#as per usual i got very long winded

[danieyells]

@mayoigotokurousagi LAST ONE OF YOURS here's Jin!!!

Jin is. . .he's a lot sweeter than you'd expect once his affinity gets high lol. . . . I FEEL LIKE I ENDED UP WITH A LOT OF COMMENTARY HERE. . .he just acts very different as affinity goes up, i have to point shit out haha

I've also amended this one to be all of his voicelines now!

Hello: (the first time the game is opened after that character is set as home screen NPC. Only happens once per day, unless the character is switched out and back.)

"Where the hell do you think you're going? Quit dawdling and help me get ready." お前、どこほっつき歩いてたんだ？……さっさと支度を手伝え

You've Got Mail: (whenever there's something in the inbox, usually Arena rewards)

"Hey, you've got mail. Don't tell me you're not going to open it. What if it was for me?" おい、手紙。放っとくつもりじゃねぇだろうな。 俺宛があったらどうすんだ？ あ？

Jin, why would your mail be in my. . .whatever

Default: (requires no affinity, has no time constraints)

"...Get to the point. The trash here is so long-winded." チッ……さっさと要件を言え。ゴミどもはこれだから面倒くせぇ

"A party? I don't waste air on bootlickers. Try Tohma." 社交界？　肩書き目当ての奴らに構うつもりはねぇよ。塔真をあたれ

"Don't just stand there like an idiot. Hurry up. ...What? You got a problem? Spit it out." おい、ぼさっと突っ立ってねぇでついてこい。 ……何だ、文句でもあんのか？

"Kneel! Tsk... Where's {PC}? Bring her to my room." 跪け！ 　……チッ。あの女はどこだ。今すぐ俺の部屋に連れてこい

"What? Your schedule's not my problem. Just arrange it around me." あ？　お前の都合なんて知らねぇ。黙って俺に合わせてりゃいいんだよ

Affinity 1: (between 5am and 11am)

"...Huh? I don't want to see your face at the crack of dawn. Get out." ……あ？寝起きから、その面見せんな…… 下がってろ

given how vulgar his speech is sometimes i'm surprised he didn't say "asscrack of dawn"

Affinity 2: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Tell the chef I'm not in the mood for meat today." ……シェフに伝えろ。今日は肉の気分じゃねぇってな

Affinity 3: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"I'm not wasting my time fooling around with those brats today. If they're really that bored, just make them go on a low-ranking mission or something." ガキの遊びに付き合う気はねぇよ。そんなに暇なら、適当に低ランク任務でも行かせておけ

he's just barely avoiding making iPad kids out of Kaito and Lucas lmao

Affinity 4: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Put my dinner over there. I'll eat later if I feel like it." ディナーはそこに置いておけ。気が向いたら食っておく

i am once again asking the ghouls to FUCKING EAT PROPER MEALS.

Affinity 5: (between 8pm and 5am)

"I need more data for this case...  Go find Tohma, servant." 任務の資料が足りてねぇ…… 下僕、塔真を呼んでこい

Affinity 6: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"A Class C anomaly? Miss me with that weak shit. Why do you think we have a Vice Captain?" あ？　Ｃ級怪異？ つまんねぇことに俺を巻き込むな。 何のために副寮長がいるんだ？

MISS ME WITH THAT WEAK SHIT I AM IN TEARS WHO TAUGHT YOU TO TALK LIKE THAT. . . .

Affinity 7: (between 11am and 4pm)

"What about class? Ha. What makes you think you can lecture me? Worry about yourself." ……授業の時間？　ハッ、俺に説教とはいい度胸じゃねぇか。お前は自分の心配でもしてろ

Affinity 8: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"You don't even know that? What do they teach here?" ……そんなこともわからねぇのか？この学園の教育はどうなってんだ

I guess Jin has a good handle on the material and everything he'd need to know, as a third year. I say 'as a third year' but Alan didn't understand some of the basics so--

Affinity 9: (between 8pm and 5am)

"Bianerus! ...I'm not feeling it today. You can go." ＜ビアネルス＞ …………チッ。調子が悪い。今日はもう下がれ

Affinity 10: (between 10pm and midnight)

"It's late. We're done here. Leave." ……もう遅い。話は終わりだ、下がれ

Affinity 11: (between 5am and 11am)

"You're late. You've got some nerve making me wait, servant." ……遅ぇよ。下僕ごときが俺を待たせるな

Affinity 12: (between 11am and 4pm)

"...I'm hungry. Go order lunch. For two." ……腹が減ったな。おい、ランチの手配をしろ。２人分だ

i guarantee you the pc did not consider that he meant "i want to eat lunch with you" the first time this happened. she probably just thought "damn jin's hungry today."

Affinity 13: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"You have plans? Take a second and really think about whether your plans are more important than me before you open that mouth again." 今日は都合が悪い？ ……俺より優先する価値があるか、よく考えてから口を開け

Affinity 14: (between 5am and 11am)

"...Why are you so chatty today? Just pour my tea and get out of my face." チッ……うるせぇ。いつもの紅茶だけ淹れて失せろ

'stop trying to befriend me and go away' lmao

Affinity 15: (between 5am and 11am)

"You should be grateful I'm giving you the time of day this early in the morning." 俺が朝から相手してやってんだ。ありがたく思え

Affinity 16: (between 11am and 4pm)

"Why do you look so worn out? If you're going to serve me, learn how to take better care of yourself. Tohma, take her to the infirmary." おい下僕、なんだその顔色は。俺に仕えるなら体調管理は万全にしろ。 塔真、こいつを保健室に運んでこい

why the infirmary. . .i don't think she needs a doctor i think she needs a nap. You're overworking her didn't Tohma tell you not to break her you donut

Affinity 17: (between 10pm and midnight)

"It's still early... You want to practice the waltz? Bold, aren't you? You're going to be sore tomorrow." まだこんな時間か。 ワルツの練習？……生意気に催促しやがって。 覚悟しろよ。お前は明日、筋肉痛だ

are we still. . .talking about the. . .dancing. . . .

Affinity 18: (between 8pm and 5am)

"You want to dine with me? Ha. All right. Show me if you've learned anything." お前と俺が、ディナーを一緒に？ ハッ、面白ぇ。お手並み拝見といこうか

impromptu lesson on table manners!?

Affinity 19: (between 10pm and midnight)

"It's quiet tonight... Sit here, next to me. We're playing a duet. Don't give me that look. You'll know this song." 今夜は静かだな……隣に座れ。 連弾だ。そんな顔すんじゃねぇよ。 ……お前も知ってる曲だ

I previously used the expression names to describe his expression as 'pouting' and 'like a spoiled child' but he mostly just looks irritated lmaooo

Affinity 20: (between 5am and 11am)

"Waking me up every morning was your idea, so I'd better see you here tomorrow too. That's an order." ルーティンにしたのはお前だろ。責任取って、明日も起こしに来い。 ……これは命令だ

how quickly we go from "i don't wanna see your face first thing in the morning" to "i had better see your face every morning". . . . (it's not quickly at all. it's actually an incredibly slow process getting affinity up.)

Affinity 21: (between 11am and 4pm)

"...I was too active yesterday. Massage me, servant. ...What the hell was that? Put some muscle into it." チッ。昨日は体を動かしすぎたな。 下僕、次はマッサージだ。 ……足りねぇよ。もっと強く押せ

i love this one he's just like bitch what the fuck kinda weak ass massage is that put some back into it?????

Affinity 22: (between 4pm and 8pm)

"You don't know about dining etiquette? I don't have time for this... If you want me to teach you, I better see that nose on the grindstone." テーブルマナーがわからない？ 面倒くせぇ……俺に教わるからにはそれ相応の覚悟があんだろうな？

we are reaching critical levels of "i need to make you presentable so you can meet my father" also I find it funny that this is after the "you wanna eat with me? let's see if you've learned anything" line. WHEN WERE THEY SUPPOSED TO HAVE HAD LEARNED OR DO YOU EXPECT THEM TO STUDY YOU AS YOU EAT

Affinity 23: (between 8pm and 5am)

"What's that? My helicopter, obviously. Quit gawking and get in." 俺のヘリだ。見たらわかんだろ。……いいから、さっさと乗れ

get in servant idk where we're going but you are going with me

Affinity 24: (between 10pm and midnight)

"I've got plans early tomorrow. Your house is too far. Stay here tonight." 明日は早朝から用事がある。お前が寝泊まりしてる寮からじゃ間に合わねぇかもな。 今夜は、ここに泊まれ

another expression note. . .he's looking away and putting his hand on the back of his neck here. He's shy, almost. Because he's not asking you to stay over to perform some task. It's not your usual master-servant dynamic. He just wants you close to him. As close as possible. He really is rather sweet.

Affinity 25(max): (no time constraints)

"Never learn, do you? I don't take you being here for granted. I know it won't last forever. That's all I'm going to say." 懲りないやつだな。言っておくが、こうやってお前が隣にいること…… 俺は、永遠に続くとは思ってねぇぞ

Jin makes a kind of sad face when he says it won't last forever. well, as sad as he can manage.

He knows that once your curse is broken you'll probably go back to your ordinary life. If your curse can't be broken you'll die. And if you, for some reason, continue to stay at Darkwick even after being cured, he'll be a fourth year next year--he's gonna go off to do field work. Eventually he'll work in the highest levels of the Institute and eventually he'll take his father's place as the president. With all of this, there's no way you'll be able to be together, no matter what. This is a short lived burst of happiness and attachment for him. It means a lot more to him than you realize.

Spring: (March-May) (between 5am and 11am)

"(yawn) What's with that look? I'm not allowed to yawn?" ふぁっ…… あ？　何だその顔は。俺があくびして悪ぃか？

(between 11am and 4pm)

"The flowers you can see from the balcony? Yeah, I had them planted. ...My mother liked them." バルコニーから見える花……？ああ、俺が植えさせた。 …………お袋が好きだった花だ

the balcony bg and the front of frostheim background don't have flowers visible in them(i mean the balcony has potted plants but no flowers). . .i wonder what kind of flowers his mother liked. maybe the pc will grow them when they turn into a Kyklos.

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Sunset's supposed to be nice this time of year. Come on, servant. Before I change my mind." 春茜か……おい下僕、少し外に出る。 俺の気が変わる前に付き合えよ

(between 8pm and 5am)

"You're going to see the cherry blossoms tonight with the brats? Suit yourself. I doubt any of you can appreciate them." あ？　ガキどもと夜桜を見に行く？ 勝手にしろ。お前らに、あの風情がわかるとは思えねぇけどな

'you guys are too poor to appreciate nice things'

Summer: (June-August) (between 5am and 11am)

"Those little shits are so loud this morning... They're worse than the cicadas. Tohma, go exterminate them." クソ、朝からガキども��うるせぇ。 塔真、あのセミより鬱陶しい奴らを駆除してこい

MODS, PUT 'EM IN THE BLENDER.

(between 11am and 4pm)

"What kind of moron chooses to go out in the sun this time of year? Unless you want your brain to melt, stay here with me." わざわざこの時期、日を浴びようなんて奴は馬鹿しかいねぇ。 お前も脳みそ溶かしたくなきゃ、ここにいろ

jin. . .this is frostheim. it is PERMANENTLY WINTER here, even to the point of that the day-night timing doesn't change. It's not hot unless we leave the boundaries of frostheim. . . . THIS IS A THINLY VEILED EXCUSE TO GET YOU TO STAY WITH HIM.

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"You've got tickets to a fireworks festival? The view's better from a helicopter. ...You've got guts thinking you can show me a good time, peasant." あ？　花火大会の観覧席チケット？ 花火はヘリから見るもんだろ。庶民の分際で俺を誘いやがって……

'peasant' is worse than 'servant' in my opinion. . . .

(between 8pm and 5am)

"Haven't heard the sound of waves for a while... Get the speedboat. I'll drive." しばらく波の音も聞いてねぇな…… おい、今すぐクルーザーを出せ。操縦は俺がする

jin just shoving you into various vehicles to take you places is really funny to me for some reason. you're like his purse dog. he just wants to take you everywhere even if it doesn't really benefit him to do so. also he can drive a speedboat????

Autumn: (September-November) (between 5am and 11am)

"I overworked myself. Go get Tohma. I was right having him get that PT license. I should have you get one too." 塔真を呼べ、オーバーワークした。 あいつに整体の資格を取らせたのは正解だったな。 下僕、お前も取るか

. . .doesn't that take like three years minimum in japan. . .how did you get him to get that. . .didn't he only meet you like two and a half years ago and you weren't even in the same house then. . .is that a darkwick offered course. . . .

(between 11am and 4pm)

"A pumpkin spice latte? I'm not drinking this saccharine garbage. Give the rest to the brats." あ？　パンプキンスパイスラテ？ こんな甘ったるい茶は飲まねぇよ。残りはガキどもにやっとけ

what do you think he is, a basic bitch like you? Not a big fan of sweets. Noted.

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"My favorite family vacation? Don't have one. This conversation is over." 行楽の思い出？そんなもんねぇよ。 ……この話は終わりだ

(between 8pm and 5am)

"I don't play the piano because I like it. It's just force of habit." 別に、ピアノが好きで弾��てるわけじゃねぇよ。た��の惰性だ

Winter: (December-February) (between 5am and 11am)

"...Don't fucking wake me up. Come back later." ……起こすんじゃねぇ。話なら後にしろ

he hates the heat he hates the cold. . .well he also hates mornings in general. . . .

(between 11am and 4pm)

"Why is my name on this snowman? Tohma, give me your gloves. Whichever half-wit made this has shit for eyes." なんで雪だるまに、俺の名前が？ ……塔真、手袋を貸せ。これ作った奴の目は、確実に腐ってやがんな

"is that supposed to be me. . .? aw hell no i am fixing this shit"

(between 4pm and 8pm)

"Tell the chef and the brats we're having a roast dinner tomorrow. Kobe beef. They know how I like it." 明日はローストディナーだ、シェフとガキどもに言っとけ。 肉は神戸牛でな。焼き加減はわかってるはずだ

i like that the frostheim ghouls eat dinner together like a family. . .jin looks at Kaito and Lucas and goes 'those are my idiot sons. i cannot stand them.'

(between 8pm and 5am)

"You're staying here tonight, servant. I'll show you an aurora you couldn't even dream of." 下僕、今夜は泊まれ。最上級のオーロラを見せてやる

see how this is worded differently from when he asks you to stay over because 'your house is too far away'? even when he's trying to be sweet to you, as long as he maintains your power imbalance he feels comfortable--he has something over you here--but trying to lay his feelings bare, just saying 'i want you to stay with me', that's so much more than he's used to saying.

His birthday: (August 31st)

"A birthday party? This has Tohma written all over it, that asshole's always using me to— You're planning it? ...I'll think about it." 誕生日パーティー？　塔真の奴、また俺を客寄せに使って…… 違う？お前が主催？ ……気が向いたらな

'that asshole tohma is trying to make me go outside aga--oh you're planning the party. oh. okay. maybe.'

Your birthday:

"The song I just played? It's G. F. Handel. He wrote it for the queen's birthday." さっき弾いた曲？……Ｇ．Ｆ．ヘンデルが、女王の誕生日に送った曲だ

in case you don't get the significance of what he's saying here. . .lemme fetch one of Tohma's lines for you--

"I'm no more than a servant. Frostheim is ruled by a king, you see." 私はあくまで小間使いですよ。フロストハイムには、キングがいますから

my dude I think jin just called you his queen--only for your birthday though don't get cocky, servant

New Years: (January 1st)

"Hope you're ready for another year being at beck and call, servant. First up, my New Year's courtesy calls. Go do them for me." おい、下僕。今年も俺専用の女中として必死に尽くせよ。 まずは新年の挨拶回りだ。代わりに行ってこい

'happy new year! your purpose is still serving me.'

Valentine's Day: (February 14th)

"What's that sad-looking box you're holding? ...Oh. No, don't throw it away. I'll take it." なんだ？　この貧相な包みは。 ……ああ、そういうことか。 捨てなくていい。受け取ってやるよ

jin is one of those characters who probably gets a mountain of chocolates given to him by admirers, all brand name and like from famous confectioners and shit. real nice fancy packages. so he sees your shitty little unprofessional homemade thing and is like 'tf is that' before he realizes it's for him and it's made with love and he just. . .ah. no, i want that, actually.

White Day: (March 14th)

"Keep your schedule open tonight. You're having a meal your peasant taste buds couldn't even dream of." おい、今夜は予定を開けとけ。庶民じゃ一生出会えねぇような美味いもん、お前に食わせてやるよ

April Fool's Day: (April 1st)

"Hey, are you all right? ...Tsk. If that was a joke, it wasn't fucking funny. I've changed my mind. Cancel all my plans for the day." おい、お前大丈夫か？ 　……チッ。質の悪ぃ嘘だな…… 気が変わった。今日の予定はすべてキャンセルだ

i feel like Jin is about to put together the most elaborate prank and it's gonna hurt someone's feelings or get somebody hurt and no one will find it funny and he'll end up feeling super shitty. like that one spongebob episode.

Halloween: (October 31st)

"Where the hell's Tohma? Asshole sent the brats to my room to beg for candy. Next time I see him I'm going to wring his fucking neck." クソ……塔真��どこだ。俺の部屋に籠持ったガキども寄こしやがって。 あいつ……ぶっ殺すぞ……

okay but did you give them candy?

Christmas: (December 25th)

"Go tell Tohma what color dress you're wearing tonight. Why? Maybe I'll wear a matching ascot tie. If I feel like it." 今夜着るドレスの色を塔真に伝えておけ。 あ？　理由？ 気が向いたらアスコットタイの色を合わせてやる

Idle: (about 20 seconds without interacting with the game) (below 13 affinity)

"...Where the hell did she go?" ……あの女、どこ行きやがった？

(13 affinity and above)

"Shit... This is throwing me off. Who does that servant think she is?" ……クソ……調子が狂う。 下僕の分際で、舐めやがって……

he feels so wrong without you next to him aw

Absent: (logging in for the first time in 2 or more days?)

"...You've got guts abandoning your place at my back, servant. I'm going to have to retrain you." …………っ、おい……下僕は常に主人の後ろにいるもんだろうが。 お前は再教育だ

ONCE AGAIN IT FEELS LIKE I PUT NEARLY ALL OF THEM IN IT'S ALL OF THEM NOW! The way he treats the pc in so many different ways but it makes sense with his character and feelings. . .as far as the home screen lines go, Jin definitely loves you in some capacity. He's actually quite clingy. . .i'm a little too sleepy for more coherent thought haha

[thecapricunt1616]

Cinnamon - (c.b. one-shot)

Snippet (more BTC): “Can I- take your panties off…p-please?” He asked shyly “wanna make y’feel good - wanna taste your pussy I miss it s’much - tastes so good baby please lemme taste you” he said and his whiney husky voice mixed with his breathlessness from being shoved into the fabric of your dripping cunt made you clench around nothing. 

��� One Shot Inspo: Cinnamon invokes lust and is considered an aphrodisiac. It can be used in love spells as well as for sex magic. Burn cinnamon to stimulate your spiritual powers and increase your psychic ability and awareness.

♡ Summary: Carmy hasn't had pussy in 2 weeks....he nearly died (he's a drama queen, but you love it) So, being the loving amazing GF you are you Mountain Dewed it up down left right (oh!!) switched it up like Nintendo - and did it so well you put his ass to sleep. (I listened to Espresso the whole time writing this its literally all I could think about hahahah)

♡ W/C: 4,140

♡ Posted Date: 05/12/2024

♡ A/N: HEYYYY!!! Okay okay so MORE STAGEFRIGHT because the amazing wonderful talented goddess level writer @l4long-winded sent in ♡THIS♡ big brain beautiful ask, and let me tell you I had some THOUGHTS!!! I have such a worship kink so .... yeah this was v fun to write. I hope you love reading as much as I loved writing. My dear please send in a request whenever you want!! Requests are open per usual :D

♡ Warnings for BTC: Kinda Sub!Carmy, Smut, Fem!Reader, AFAB!Reader, No use of Y/N, No use of physical descriptors, Black!Fem!Reader friendly (i'm pretty sure pls tell me if smth needs editing!), Kinda Virgin!Carmy, Not edited (we die like men)

♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡

It had been quite literally a fortnight since Carmy had been able to fuck you. It was all he’d thought about, well - when his brain wasn’t busy going a million miles an hour about the restaurant, which is exactly what had taken up so much of his time lately. He’d usually be grateful for this kind of work, the kind of work that he’s going in at 3:15 and not getting home until 11:30 pm or midnight when you were already fast asleep. 

He was exhausted, emotionally, physically, mentally, spiritually - but sexually?! He wasn’t sure he had ever been so wound up before. His nightly sessions of jerking his cock in the shower, biting his hand to keep as quiet as he could while he thought of the view of you when he came in that night. One leg hoisted up, nightgown ridden up over your ass. The one you knew he loved, and some of his favorite panties. 

You called them your lazy girl panties because you told him you only wore them when you weren’t expecting anyone else to see them, but that very fact meant drooled over them. The slight discoloration from being so old, the little threads hanging off the leg holes and waistband. The tiny hole right in the waistband that he loved to thumb with while cuddling in bed. 

 Two weeks. Fourteen days. Three hundred and thirty six hours. Twenty thousand, one hundred and sixty minutes. 

That had been how long he had gone without being inside of you. He didn’t know his dick could get depressed, but his dick was fucking depressed. Getting off felt like a chore. When he’d jack off, he took an extra 15 minutes yanking on the thing because he could barely cum anymore, even though his balls were aching like he needed to. 

Every time he got home, he’d stand in the doorway, just watching you. You would be peacefully asleep, chest lightly rising and falling, your beautiful body covered by some loose sleep thing. A loose sleep thing that he fantasized about ripping off into shreds. 

Tonight though - he could cry. You were up - you were fucking awake. Through his own selfish desires he didn’t even realize it was abnormal, the only thing he could think about was the blood rushing to his cock at the mere idea you could possibly potentially be in the mood. “Baby?!” He nearly tripped over his own two feet rushing to your shared bedroom. 

You were sat up on the bed, book on your thighs - a loose nightgown that accentuated your curves and hugged your peaked nipples uncovered by any bra. He could bust in his pants and all you were doing was reading. Reading what? He could care less honestly because his cock was starting to hurt. 

You sat up, putting your legs over the side of the bed to get up and greet him “Bear! How was work love? I wanted to stay up so that we could - what’re you…” you trail off confused as he slinks to his knees before you, between your thighs and lifting up your leg, putting the top of your foot to his lips. 

“In…22 minutes” he starts between kissing up your bare ankle and calf “it..will have been..15..days..” he stopped at your thighs, his cheek smushed against the flesh, he looked like he could both cry and that he was coming home. “Since I touched you. Please. Please baby - can I make you feel good? Mm?” He mumbled into your skin. “Please princess? I’m dyin’ here. I’m fuckin- I literally cut my hand t’day thinkin’ bout you. I fuckin need you” he kissed over each little tiny inch of your flesh. He was…worshiping you. 

The idea sent waves of warmth flooding your core. “Yeah baby?” You took his hand, seeing a bandage over his knuckle and kissing it gently. 

The feeling of your lips to his skin made him whimper “please- please please please” he begged, sitting back on his feet and looking up at you through his bangs, pushing his hair back quickly before his hand found your calf once again, rubbing little strokes into it “please?” He asked softly, his big blue eyes blown wide with lust. 

You gently cup his cheek “and who’s fault is it?” You were teasing now. But you knew the bastard loved a challenge, and you also had been horny and your fingers were nothing compared to Carmys. 

“Mine. It’s mine. My stupid fuckin job angel I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, how can I make it up? What can I do pretty? Mm? I’ll do whatever you want” he begged you and kissed over your knees and calves, pressing short little pecks to the skin. You grabbed his greasy curls at the root, raking through a few of the knots gently before pulling him to look at you and he moaned gently at the sudden firmness 

“Do you know I’ve been fingering myself to fall asleep. All alone - for all those days you said. My poor hand” you held it up and he brought it to his lips on instinct, kissing the pads of your fingers before opening his mouth expectantly. “Good Bear” you purr and his eyes flutter shut as you stuck in your middle and ring fingers, slipping them over his tongue. He moaned at the contact, not holding back. 

You smiled a bit, tugging his jaw open and he looks up at you, cheeks flushed and drool beginning to drip down his chin. “You’re pretty” you said softly and he swirls his tongue around your fingers before sucking on them gently, not breaking your gaze. Your stomach flips with excitement, your panties becoming uncomfortably wet but you weren’t going to let that show. He deserved to beg. 

“Do you deserve to be sucking on my fingers though?” You pull them away suddenly and he gasps a bit a the unexpected emptiness of his mouth, a pathetic little pout appearing on his lips. 

“No” he said softly and you grab his cheeks, smushing them gently “but I can make you feel soooo good - you deserve it” he told you and you pat his cheek gently with your hand, your wet fingers leaving a glistening streak on his cheek. 

“I know I do. Are you gonna eat me out? Like a good boy?” You laid back on your elbows, spreading your thigh and resting one of your feet on the edge of the bed, showing your panties that had grown a large wet spot during your conversation. He watches every move you make, his eyes focusing on the wet spot you sighed softly, deciding to take pity on him. “You can sniff my panties, you little freak” you giggle and he looked up at you like a kid on Christmas 

He wasted no time shoving his nose right in the wetness, inhaling your sweet yummy scent and groaning “thank you” he mumbled into the curve of your ass, his hot breath against the skin causing your clit to twitch and goosebumps to appear on your skin. You feel him taking another deep breath and nuzzling his nose back and forth to get deeper like a dog and you couldn’t help but giggle, raking through the knots in his curls as he stuck out his tongue and caught the fabric of your panties with his teeth, sucking the juices out of the fabric and moaning hotly. 

His hands were everywhere, rubbing over your calves, your thighs, your stomach, pushing your nightgown over your tits and rolling a peaked nipple between his fingers. You bit your lip, head falling back slightly and grinding your hips into his face, using his nose to get yourself off. “Go ahead Bear take off your jeans, you’ve been good t’night and I know you’re probably hurting” you told him 

He sighed into you gratefully “y’too nice t’me” he kissed over your clothed pussy a few times as he unbuckled his belt with shaking hands, the anticipation was killing him. 

“No me being nice would be telling you that you could touch yourself. And no dripping on my carpet” you told him as he pushed his boxers and jeans enough to let his cock free that was indeed dripping already. His boxers were creamy and wet with pre, he had been pathetically grinding against the boxspring as he sucked your panties like it was his life source. 

“Shit-“  he said, wrapping a fist around his weeping tip as he continued tonguing and nosing at the fabric between your legs. “Can I- c-can I please?” He begged pathetically, that softness to his voice you loved so much. A sweet whiney grunt leaves his lips as you pull his hair, forcing him to look at you. 

“What have we talked about? Use your words.” You said firmly. 

“Can I- take your panties off…p-please?” He asked shyly “wanna make y’feel good - wanna taste your pussy I miss it s’much - tastes so good baby please lemme taste you” he said and his whiney husky voice mixed with his breathlessness from being shoved into the fabric of your dripping cunt made you clench around nothing. 

“I wanna cum twice before you even think about touching yourself. Also take your shirt off you’re way overdressed for my taste.” You dropped his hair and he nods obediently, standing and shoving off his jeans and tugging his shirt off by the neck in that stupid jockish way that had you wanting to shove him down back first on the mattress and ride him until his balls were empty. 

Instead you kept your cool, crossing your arms over and slipping your nightgown over your head before taking off your panties, flicking them at him playfully to which he balled them up and pressed them to his nose, inhaling deeply. This caused you to laugh as you adjusted your pillow to lay back, spreading your thighs and gathering some of your wetness from your hole, dragging it up to your clit and rubbing little circles into it. 

“Mmm are you gonna keep sniffing those like a pervy-puppy or are you gonna come make good on your promise. I’m surprised this poor hand hasn’t fallen off” you teased and he dropped the panties where he was standing, coming and crawling on the bed, laying in front of you and hoisting your thighs over each of his shoulders 

“Mmm” he hummed, his eyes fluttering shut and leaning in, resting his cheek on your thigh and inhaling. “Smell so fuckin’ good” he mumbled “mouth is literally watering” he kissed your inner thighs sweetly, ravishing the skin in gentle affection. “God I missed this fuckin missed this s’much. Every morning this pretty fuckin pussy is just beggin me” he kissed your mound gently, dipping his tongue out and moaning at the taste of sweat and lotion on your skin, lapping it up like a life source. 

“Yeah? I think you’re the beggar” you mused, jaw falling slack as he licks a stripe up your heat, moaning pathetically at your taste. His eyes rolled back slightly before fluttering shut in pure bliss “mmm so pretty baby” you coo and he smiled slightly, his cheeks a blushy pink that matched the tops of his ears. He nuzzled into you, nose rubbing over your clit in the way that made you gasp, your toes curling lightly “good boy” you praised, voice breathy and light 

“Taste so good” he mumbled into your cunt, squeezing your thighs gently with his tattooed fingers. He moaned into you, watching you with wide lustful eyes. 

“Those pretty eyes” you said softly, gently brushing his warm cheekbone with your knuckle and he hums into you gently. He sucked your folds between his lips, pulling away slightly and rubbing your thighs up and down with his calloused palms, squeezing gently. You moaned hotly and couldn’t contain the cry that followed when he finally stuck his middle finger in your dripping hole, hips bucking to try and get more of him. 

“So soft, so so soft” he mumbled into your clit before kissing it gently and taking the now swollen throbbing bud in his mouth, flicking his tongue over it quickly. His fingers twist and curl as he pumps them in and out at a languid pace. You felt that familiar jolt of pleasure as the pad of his finger brushed your g spot. 

“Augh- ah- yes bear” you mewled, “right there- there” you grab his wrist and squeeze it and in response he curled his fingers the same way and you dug your feet into his shoulder blades in pure extacy, causing him to grunt into you and curl and uncurl his fingers in a rhythm that had your eyes screwing shut and loud strings of curses and moans tearing from your chest as you came undone over his fingers, dripping down his wrist already. But with how long it had been since you had him this way, that was to be expected. 

“Good - good bear good bear” you mumble praise as your orgasm washes over you he works you through it, resuming pumping his fingers - your dripping arousal being able to be put to use as lube. The schlick,schlick,schlick sound of his fingers is what you come back to, your mind fuzzy and swimming through a warm sea of pleasure, sweet jumbled moans and whimpers coming from your lips. 

“God you sound so fuckin’ pretty baby I love you so fuckin much m’so sorry m’so sorry I haven’t been around as much” he mumbled into you and you shake your head 

“S’okay shhh- shh just keep doin’ what you’re doin’” you push his head back down, watching as his eyes flutter up to look at you and he sweetly offers his other hand for you to hold, your heart melting at the gesture. “Such a sweet boy” you coo, taking his hand and lacing your fingers together. He smiled a bit in response nuzzling his nose against your clit, his lips making cute little smacking noises against your cunt. 

“You’re so messy” you giggle a bit, seeing as the tip and bridge of his nose were wet with your slick, as was his chin and entire mouth area. “Your face is so wet baby” you told him and he looked up at you 

“Mmm m’neck is wet too” he paused to say before resuming and you gently caress his cheek, the only sounds filling the room being the wet drill of his fingers and the smacking of his lips, like he was trying to devour a popsicle before it melted. 

You felt your second orgasm quickly approaching, your walls fluttering around his fingers, he curled up into that spot and that was your undoing once more, your hips pushing back into the mattress and spine arching off the bed towards the ceiling slightly as your orgasm crashed over you with no mercy to be had. 

“Jesus- fuck!” You cried out and he held your thighs open for you so you wouldn’t crush him by mistake, your hands shaking as you went to wipe the tears that had gathered in your eyes that were screwed shut from the intensity and Carmy stops you, carefully wiping your cheeks with his dry hand and removing his other carefully, wiping it dry on the sheets he always changed for you afterwards and cupping your face while you came down. 

“You did so good baby, so so good” he kissed your forehead gently, rubbing your hair and caressing your back with loving strokes. When you were finally coherent enough once again, although you were exhausted - you realized Carmy was still rock hard, pitching a full tent in his boxers that were wet with pre as he coaxed you through your orgasm. 

“That’s gotta hurt” you told pull the fabric, causing his cock to come down with it and when you release it it springs back up to full standing causing you to giggle a bit 

“Mm does but m’back. I can’t go t’night babe. I was gonna go take care of it in the shower don’worry” he yawned, rubbing over his face you furrowed your brow, slightly offended. 

“What? Is my pussy not good enough?” You teased 

He looked at you quickly “wha- no - I mean- I mean yes? No- no your pussy is good your pussy is- is perfect I fuckin’ love y’pussy but I can’t go tonight baby my back fuckin’ hurts” he explained 

“I can ride you you know” you said and his big blue eyes widened a bit. You’d been together for 6- no 7 months, and it was true you’d never ridden him, not yet anyway. 

Carmen was a missionary man, not in the boring way, in the way that he’d get home from work and fuck your brains out while going on and on about his frustrations from the day. 

People wouldn’t usually call it dirty talk, but something it turned you on more then anything that between calling you perfect and beautiful and made for him that he was just casually going on about his shitty day like his balls weren’t essentially spanking your ass with how hard he needed it. 

“Uh- oh-o-okay. Yeah. Sure- I. Mmhmm” he said and fixed his pillow, adjusting his hips for you “hop on I guess” he said shyly and you laughed at his sudden switch in attitude. 

“Have you never been ridden you poor thing?” You asked and his cheeks went cherry red as well as the tips of his ears and bridge of his nose as you straddled him easily, resting your hands on his abs for leverage. 

“No.” He muttered. “I- I just…I dunno it never..came up” he swallowed thickly, averting your gaze nervously. 

“Hey.” You said “eyes” you told him and his eyes met yours immediately, “I’m honored to be the first person, yeah? I’ve told you a billion times bear - I love you. I love being able to show you new ways to feel good, it makes me so excited” you held his hips gently and he wrapped his hands around your wrists, needing to be touching you somehow. 

“It just…it doesn’t make me seem like…like a bitch does it?” He mumbled shyly, insecurity lacing his voice. You tucked your hands under his warm back, laying yourself over him fully, embracing him and resting your forehead on his. 

“You know how I feel about that word, and no it doesn’t make you seem less manly baby. If anything, it’s super sexy and it’s so sweet that you felt brave enough to tell me. Thank you for telling me. I’ve heard for the guy it feels really good cause all you gotta do is lay there, you wanna try sweetheart?” You ask softly, kissing the bridge of his nose gently and a small smile forming on your lips when you tasted yourself on your lips upon pulling away. 

“Yes please” he said softly, eyes fluttered shut as you cover his face in little butterfly kisses. 

“That’s my brave bear” you place a kiss to the base of his throat and he smiles a bit, cheeks going redder by the second. It was adorable how shy he got when you showed him affection like this, you knew he adored it more then anything - but he’d never be brave enough to ask for it - at least not yet.  

You sit up, “can I touch you baby?” You confirm, rubbing your hands down his stomach and his abs tighten at the contact. In response he nods, swallowing thickly and goosebumps rising over his skin. His cock twitches as you grab the waistband of his boxers “so sweet and responsive” you said softly, tugging them down easily as he lifted his hips for you slightly. 

“Jesus” you mutter at the sight of it, the tip weeping and pink crying to be touched. “Poor thing, you’ve been neglected- has Carmy been abusing you in the shower huh?” You said in the direction of his cock with a playful voice of concern. 

“Jesus fuckin Christ-“ he chuckled, covering his face with his arm a big goofy smile on his face. “You are gonna kill me” 

You smiled big, leaning down and licking a stripe up his length and he whimpers softly, abs and stomach clenching at the contact, a large bead of pre gushing from his slit that you catch with your tongue. He shivers adorably, groaning at the feeling of you licking over his sensitive tip. “If y’keep fuckin doin’ that ‘m gonna cum” he breathes, the vein in his neck present seeing as he was holding himself back, his balls drawing up and releasing in a rhythm. 

“Jesus baby i dunno if you’ll last that long we’ll have to do this again so you can get the full experience mm?” You grab his shaft, lining you two up and slipping it through your soaked folds, he let out a breathy moan, back arching slightly and you let out a sweet ‘mmm’ when his tip bumps your clit. 

“Please please please can I be inside you please” he begged pathetically, voice whiny and shaking - he was going to be coming undone very soon you could tell, which is why he was desperate to be inside of you before he was too soft to do so. 

“I dunno can I see those pretty eyes?” You asked, he was still hiding behind his arm, likely still feeling embarrassed this was his first time but you weren’t going to allow that. He shyly removed his arm, looking up at you and swallowing nervously. 

“H-hey” he said softly and you smile softly 

“There’s my bear” you leaned in, kissing him lovingly as you sink down on him fully, his jaw goes slack so you settle for kissing his chin and cheeks and nose “Feel good?” You giggle into his skin and he lets out a pathetic little ‘uh-huh’ 

“H-holy oh god” he groaned when you simply roll your hips, getting yourself off with the friction of the curly patch of brunette curls at the base of his cock. You sat up, using his chest as leverage to find a good rhythm bouncing on him and he nearly growls, a sound you’d never heard him make. 

“Ooo am I releasing the bear?” You teased and he chuckled a bit 

“Shut up- fuck Jesus oh god” his head falls back on the pillow “i-i-shit” he rambled and you giggle a bit, causing him to whine at the feeling of your walls clenching around him as you continued to ride his cock with all the tricks you could remember. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever fucked you so quiet before” you tease, sure your hips and thighs were burning from how quick you’d built up to moving, but his eyes were practically rolling back and the whimpers you were drawing out of him were nothing short of heavenly. He was shaking for Christ sakes. “Are you gonna cum? Mm? Y’gonna fill me up baby?” You asked him, rubbing his chest gently 

He finally opened his eyes, looking up at you with those big blue eyes, blown out fully with lust, pants falling from his lips and his dirty blonde curls stuck to his forehead with sweat. “Mm-mmhmm” he moaned out, grabbing your hips to have something to hold and the action making him realize he could help you move. His jaw dropped slightly at the realization and he looked up at you for approval. 

You smiled and nod a bit “you can help honey- that’s really nice of you” you said and he helped push and pull you off his cock, he looked down, mesmerized by the view of his cock burying inside of you, he pushed you down with more force and you moaned, “just like that baby, you want it harder huh?” You ask and he nods quickly so you rolled your hips a bit harder. 

He bit his lip, nose scrunching up cutely. He was holding back. “Bear- I know it feels good but you can cum, you need to sleep” you cup his cheek gently and he looked up at you like a sad puppy 

“It feels s’good baby” he whined and you nod, stroking his cheek gently. 

“I know honey. We can do it again t’morrow night yeah?” You kiss his forehead and with that he releases into you with something resembling a cry covered with a grunt, of course he had to cover it. He pulled you into a deep messy kiss, wrapping his arms around your back, rubbing gently and reaching down to squeeze your ass, feeling cum dripping out of you down over his balls. He smiled a bit, pulling away to ask “Mmm can we sleep like this?”

[damneddamsy]

second sight | cregan stark x oc (part vii)

a/n: today on the fluffiest of Stark fluff, Claere goes on a vacation, Cregan rides a sky-cat of a dragon and nearly dies

The brisk winds howled through the open window like a mournful cry, and outside, from the distant courtyard, the sound of Luna's thunderous roar cut through it all—less of a roar to strike fear and more of a longing cry for her rider. It was a sound that used to evoke awe and power toward the open skies; now, it only underscored the emptiness extending between the Lord and Lady of Winterfell, and everything else.

Claere sat by the ledge, uncaring of the chill that bit through her thin gown, her chin resting on her arms. She watched Luna far away, the great white dragon shifting, discontented, wings twitching with the desire to take flight. Her violet eyes shimmered, tears welling at the corners, though none fell. Being a Targaryen meant that a dragon was more than a mere beast. To her, Luna was everything—a best friend, a daughter, a sister, a mother, a reflection of her soul in flesh and flame. Blood from her blood, fire from her fire, they were bound in a way that no human could ever understand.

The ache inside her mirrored that of her dragon. They were both grounded now, for nigh on a week, bound by the silence and influence of Cregan’s absolute command.

Cregan noticed her before he spoke, lingering in the doorway, watching as her delicate frame seemed even smaller against the vastness of the window. She was morning mist, exquisite and evasive, even in her sorrow—more so, perhaps, for the sadness that clung to her like a delicate veil. The faint sunrise caught the tear-stained glint in her eyes, the pale sheen of her skin, her braided silver hair framing her face like a crown of misery.

His heart wrested into itself. He had seen her like this once before—when she had been a stranger to him, when he first tried to coax her to eat, to bring her into the warmth of his home. It felt like a lifetime ago, though the same sadness hung over her now, albeit for different reasons.

Silently, he approached, his footsteps careful on the stone floor. He didn’t announce himself; he knew she’d sensed him long before he arrived.

"Good morrow, love," he greeted her softly, voice low, though he received no answer at first. He undid his cloak to lay it behind a chair. "Slept well?"

She didn’t turn, didn’t flinch, as per usual, her focus fixed on restless Luna below. The chill seemed not to touch her.

Cregan’s gaze shifted to the tray laid out nearby, a modest feast meant for two. He had hoped to tempt her with familiar comforts, a simple offering to break the silence between them.

“I thought we could break our fast together,” he ventured, a hint of hope in his tone.

"I’m not feeling up to it." Her voice was quiet, a mere breath against the wind, but there was no malice in it—only exhaustion.

"Don't punish your appetite for your temper with me," he advised, reaching across the table to caress the back of her head. "Dreamy girl."

She leaned her head away. "I do not have a temper."

He chuckled. "Very well, your grace."

He moved beside her, unbothered by the refusal, his eyes drifting to the spread of food laid out. A variety of her favourites: ruby apples from the capital, freshly churned butter spread over oat bread, honey and blackberry jam, all carefully selected for her. He gave a slight smile and plucked a little lemon posset from the tray, a rare luxury, one of the few delicacies he knew she held fondly from her days in King’s Landing.

“Do you remember this?” he asked, placing the pastry near her. “I had it recreated by the cooks—increasingly annoyed them until they got it right.”

For the first time, Claere turned her head, her eyes falling on the delicacy before flicking to him. The vaguest spark of something—amusement, maybe—crossed her features, but her words were far from sweet.

“Sweetsleep this time, my lord?” she asked, her tone laced with the sharp edge of memory.

The barb of her accusation cut deep, reminding him of the last time—of how he’d slipped the essence of nightshade into her drink to help her sleep, of the guilt that had haunted him since.

But he indulged her grudge, forcing a wry smile to his lips. “I'm afraid it's only lemon and cream, some sugar,” he said lightly, leaning into her. “I have learned better than to drug a dragon to sleep.”

"You're a funny man," she said, surly.

"I try my best."

She said nothing more, but to his relief, she reached for the candied slice of lemon over the posset, without hesitation, and scooped a small serving into her mouth. She chewed slowly, turning back to the window, still impassive, though her silence felt less hostile than it had in days.

Delighted, he plucked a few cranberries and placed them on her plate, slathered a thick layer of jam over the bread and urged it to her mouth.

She squinched, turning away. "I'm no whingeing babe."

“There are worse fates than having me as your meal steward,” he teased, bringing the bread closer.

“Eat it yourself, if you’re so proud of it,” she muttered, pushing the bread back to him.

Cregan dropped the bread onto her plate with a quiet huff and brushed the crumbs off his hands with exaggerated impatience. She gave him a sidelong glance as he walked to the chair beside her, pushing his own plate away.

"I won't eat either then," he declared, settling into his seat with a resolute frown.

Claere sighed, casting him a brief stare, her sweetly obvious annoyance softening, though just barely.

“Stubborn northerner,” she mumbled under her breath, her fingers resuming their idle tracing of the stone ledge.

Cregan leaned back, arms crossed, watching her with wary purpose, a flicker of a smile barely contained at the edges of his lips. “If we both waste away, who’ll keep the lords at bay? Or shall we leave Winterfell to your dragon's mercy?”

Her eyes flicked to his, a fleeting vulnerability cracking through her cold demeanour. She said nothing, but after a lengthy pause, she reached for the jam bread, biting into it without looking at him. Bite after bite until it disappeared.

Stifling his laughter, Cregan joined her side by the window, his arms resting on the ledge beside hers, though his gaze remained fixed on her rather than the courtyard below. He couldn’t help but observe her closely—the delicate lines of her face, the way the sun caught in the silver strands of her hair, the way her lips pressed together, lost in thought. She looked better, eyes alive with violet lustre, healthier now that she was sleeping again, but the distance between them had only grown.

Cregan’s gaze drifted down, his hand instinctively reaching for her side, a gentle brush of fingers over the fabric where he knew the wound lay beneath. He lifted her tunic just enough to check the bandage, his fingers ghosting over the bare skin, where pale scars were knitting around the bruised edges. She barely flinched, but he felt her inhale, the subtle tension rippling through her at the touch. He could see the bruises fading, the wound healing, yet something in her still seemed fragile to him—like glass forged too thin.

For a long moment, he simply rested his hand there, his warmth seeping through to her skin. Soon, he replaced his touch with his lips, pressing it there, as if chasing away the pain.

“It’s mending well,” he murmured, more to himself than to her, though his gaze never left her face.

He reached out, almost hesitant, brushing a loose curl from her temple. That distracting, unfamiliar, sweet perfume wafted from it; he always wondered what it was. No flowers or fruits of Westeros had borne that scent.

“You know,” he began, his voice gentle, “I only forbade you from flying north of the Wall. The skies beyond Winterfell are still yours.”

She remained quiet, her fingers tracing the rim of the weathered stone beneath her arm, but her eyes stayed on the horizon. The thought of Luna still lingered in her mind, but so did the fear—the fear of what would happen if she gave in if she let herself ride again, let herself be consumed by the thoughts of what lay beyond the Wall.

She let out a sigh. “What good is flying if it only starves her more?”

“We have an abundance of harvest. Luna’s hunger won’t tear this place apart,” he countered softly. “But your silence might.”

Claere’s lips parted, a breath of disbelief escaping her. She glanced at him momentarily, the softness in her gaze returning—wounded but filled with love she couldn’t voice.

Her slender hand lifted, fingers spreading open as if cupping something fragile, something long gone.

“When Luna hatched,” she began, her voice distant, “she was small enough to rest in my palm. I used to carry her with me, perched on my shoulder like my little protector, curled into my hair while I slept, watching over me.”

Claere’s eyes shifted to the woods beyond, where Luna prowled like a moving mountain, her growls echoing to the castle. She extended her arm toward the dragon, her fingers curling slightly as if trying to hold that immense creature from afar, to fit her once more into her hand. A wistful smile ghosted across her lips, barely there.

“But she grew… and too fast. By the time I was six, she was larger than Syrax, with white wings wide enough to block out the sun. I never spent a day apart from her. Not once.” Her voice lowered, and she dropped her hand. “And now…”

She trailed off, unable to finish the thought. It hung between them, the significance of their distance bearing down on Cregan.

He watched her, his brow furrowed, discomfort knotting in his chest, wishing for an answer he could not seem to give. There was a pain in her words, a longing he couldn’t soothe with talk of duty or love. She had always been more than a wife or a lady to him; she was fire itself, unbound and untamed. But that fire was darkening, flickering behind her impassive mask.

He could not tell her what he had seen in her sleepless nights—the agonies that had hollowed her, leaving her a shell of the woman he once knew. The hysterical way she used to tear at her hair, crying out in the darkness for things she would not speak of in the light. No, he couldn’t bear to tell her those things. Not now, when she was finally starting to pull herself back from that abyss. It was better she stayed in the dark about his fears.

Cregan straightened, unwilling to let this silence continue. He needed to act; to pull her from the depths she seemed to be sinking into once again. He had been a Lord long enough to know that sometimes it was better to take action when words failed.

“I think…” His voice was measured as if considering his words carefully. “I think perhaps Winterfell has kept you in its guard for too long. A change of scenery might be what you need.”

Claere glanced at him. “A change of scenery?”

He nodded, meeting her gaze with quiet resolve. “Castle Cerwyn. It’s only a few hours on horseback. The old Lord Cerwyn was a second father to me, and his son—well, he’s closer to a brother. It’s a smaller hold, warmer, quieter. We could ride there. Bring Luna with us. Let her stretch her wings over something other than these walls.”

There was a pause, and then, in a softer tone, he added, “And it might help you find some peace… beyond what the Wall takes from you.”

Her lips thinned, not quite a smile, but there was no outright refusal in her eyes. She turned back to the horizon, watching Luna flap her mighty wings below. They could nearly feel the snow and winds she buffeted out from so far off.

“Castle Cerwyn,” she repeated, the name sounding foreign on her tongue. “I wonder what awaits me. More Northern lords suspicious of my sanity and dragon?”

“A kind hearth,” he said simply, his tone warm but insistent. “A quieter place to breathe, to think. And Wolfswood meadows wide enough for you to fly as high as you wish, without fear of where you’ll land.”

At the mention of flying, Claere’s eyes sparkled. He saw it—the briefest spark of yearning. She still longed for the wind, for the liberation that came with it, but it was evident something plagued her, something more than just Luna’s hunger.

Cregan’s hand lingered on her arm, his thumb grazing the edge of her sleeve, and though she didn’t turn toward him, she didn’t pull away either. Her gaze remained fixed on the distant horizon.

“Luna’s not the only one who’s gone too long without a proper meal,” Cregan rasped, his voice low and wanting, fingers gently sliding down to capture hers. His grip was firm but familiar, and his thumb stroked over her palm.

Claere let out a soft sigh, her brow furrowing as if she wanted to resist him, but her grip instinctually softened.

“You’ve gone past bearing, husband,” she muttered, trying to conceal the betrayal in her own hand that curled around his fingers.

Cregan leaned in closer, pressing his shoulder to hers, nudging softly. “A few leagues southwest of Castle Cerwyn,” he murmured, “is the Bay of Ice.”

Claere’s brow quirked ever so slightly, but she said nothing.

He continued, undeterred, his thumb still tracing circles on the back of her hand. “The waters are full of sealife… the kind Luna would love.” His voice was tempting, playful even. “I’d wager she’s never tasted anything quite like it.”

“She likes her meals well-cooked,” Claere replied, still distant, though her lips twitched upward. “She’s no sea dragon of Driftmark.”

“A dragon’s appetite has more range than we think, my princess. Fish, seals; they’ll do for a feast. You need only give her the chance.”

Claere turned to him, raising her brow. “You mean to tempt me with seafood, Lord Stark?”

Cregan grinned wide, his hand leaving hers to brush against her cheek, gently tucking it around her waist. “I mean to tempt you with the skies. And perhaps a bit of seal for Luna. The fresh air might do more than you know, then perhaps you’ll remember why you belong in the sky, not grounded here.”

Claere’s lips tensed, torn between her anger and the pull he had over her. “You’re more unreasonable than I imagined.”

“Possibly,” Cregan murmured, brushing a kiss to her temple, “but you’re still here.”

Claere exhaled, her resistance weakening as her fingers brushed the edge of his leather armour, her head leaning into his touch. She didn’t want to give in, but his warmth had a way of unravelling her walls. The thought of Luna and the open skies tugged at her, the hunger of her dragon like a quiet whisper in the back of her mind.

She finally turned her head, her gaze locking with his. “You’d risk the wrath of my dragon for a taste of the sea?”

Cregan smiled. “I’d risk far worse for you.”

X

Or perhaps he had spoken too soon.

The King in the North had faced many fears in his life, but nothing quite like the trepidation that settled in his gut now. He had vanquished his foes and withstood the bitterest winters, but the thought of mounting Luna—akin to her ancestor, Balerion the Black Dread—wore at his composure. He had never been afraid of beasts, direwolves or bears, yet here he was, feeling less a man and more prey in her amber gaze.

Luna was massive, far larger than he had truly reckoned. From a distance, Luna seemed a marvel; up close, she was a force of nature, a leviathan of Valyrian legend, a living mountain. Her scales glimmered pearlescent, like snow itself, but the beauty of her glistening hide belied the danger in every shift of her sinewy muscles, every glint of her amber eyes. Her wings were half-furled, like banners of war, and her teeth—gods, her longsword-like teeth—could rend the gates of Winterfell if she chose.

Cregan had seen Claere mount the beast with the same effortless grace as a songbird landing on a familiar branch, but now, standing before her, the very idea seemed mad. When he had agreed to ride on Luna to Castle Cerwyn, he had imagined it to be a piece of piss. But such was the conceit of Northmen; if he backed away or failed, he would never let himself live it down.

"Lykiri," he rasped under his breath with a palm stretched out, the one word of Valyrian he had committed to memory, praying it held the same calming power as when Claere said it. Perhaps Luna would smell her rider on him and go easy.

The dragon rose to her lasting glories, a low, thundering growl vibrating through her chest, and Cregan felt it in the marrow of his bones. She lowered her mighty head towards him, her crown of spikes and horns juddering, her jaws unhinging just enough to reveal rows of gleaming, deadly teeth. An inferno awakened from within her throat, ready to engulf him.

He could nearly hear his instincts begging him to turn and flee, sprint for the cover of the trees, and curse himself for ever stepping near this thing.

But he stood rooted in place, blood rushing wildly in his veins. Whether it was his pride or his love for Claere that anchored him, he wasn’t certain.

And then, from behind him, that voice—gentle but commanding, laced with a soft, knowing giggle.

“Lykiri, Luna. Laehossa ynot,” Claere said, the sound flowing from her lips in flawless Valyrian, like an old cradlesong soothing an anxious child. Be calm, Luna. Eyes on me.

The influence was instantaneous. Luna’s growl ceased, her jaws closing with a quiet snap, and her massive form seemed to settle into the ground, though her beady eyes still lingered on Cregan with wary regard.

“Bisa daor sagon ēza,” she murmured. This is not your enemy.

Claere approached her dragon with graceful ease, stepping in front of Cregan as if to shield him from any lingering suspicion Luna might harbour. Her dragon-riding leathers, much like the ones he had seen on her queen mother, were regal and sleek—grey furs and blue, tailored to fit her form, with high collars and silver fastenings that gleamed in the cold light. The cloak billowed behind like her own wings, a living emblem of her Targaryen bloodline.

"Gōntan ao bōsa syt nyke tolī, gevie Luna? Ēza ñuha valzȳrys ivestragī ao merbugon?" Her voice was soft, the words lilting and musical, almost tender. It was as though she spoke not to a beast but to a dear friend, a sister. Did you miss me too, beautiful Luna? Has my husband let you starve?

Luna’s growls turned into gentle rumblings, deep in her chest, as she drooped her massive head toward Claere. The dragon’s enraged eyes quieted, and her nostrils flared in recognition as she nudged her rider, a deep, affectionate sound escaping her throat.

"Issi ao sȳrkta sir," she whispered. You are healing well.

Claere raised her hand to Luna’s snout, fingers tracing the sharp ridges of her scales, and in response, Luna’s wings fluttered, that sent a ripping tide through the air.

Cregan stood there, awestruck. His wife, no taller than one of Luna’s fangs, looked like a mere speck of snow in front of the dragon’s mountainous form. Yet, in Claere’s presence, Luna preened like a giant kitten under her mistress’s touch. As Claere’s fingers journeyed down the spikes along the dragon’s throat, inspecting the long scarring wounds, Luna roared in what Cregan could only describe as bliss. He had never seen such a creature so utterly tamed, so devoted.

"Ssh," she shushed, giggling. She rested her forehead against the dragon's hide, breathing slowly. "Ivestragī īlva sōvegon arlī, ñuha riña." Let us fly again, my girl.

That smile Claere wore—for all his jokes and sarcasm, she had never smiled at him like that. Not before the Wall's shadow had held her prisoner or the morning after they'd made love. It was especially for her pet. He found himself growing jealous of that beast.

“She won’t bite,” Claere called out to him over her shoulder, amusement bright in her eyes. “Unless you give her reason to.”

“You don’t inspire much confidence, love,” Cregan grumbled, eyeing the dragon’s teeth again.

Claere tilted her head, the corners of her mouth lifting in that happier smile. “She knows you. She just doesn’t understand why you’re still standing there like a frightened little doe.”

“I'm no doe or little,” Cregan countered, though the firmness in his voice faltered under the pressure of Luna’s stare.

“You seem like a man who wants to run away,” Claere teased and held out a hand to beckon him. “Come close, wolf. She won’t let you mount her from there.”

Cregan’s brow furrowed as he stepped cautiously toward Luna’s side. The dragon shifted, her enormous wings stretching slightly, causing a gust of wind to blow through the woods. Her amber eyes locked onto him, and Cregan could swear they were measuring his worth.

“You are certain she won’t eat me?” he asked dryly, not quite hiding the edge in his voice. “She’s been starving for a week, and I’m just the right size for supper.”

Claere laughed, palming her mouth, a sweet dulcet that was full of life, he swore a winter rose stood to bloom by her feet.

Cregan eventually stood beside her, too late to question his choices, and the towering beast dwarfed him entirely. Claere had already started to climb up the ropes and nets affixed to the saddle on Luna’s back with the practised grace of someone who had done this a thousand times.

He, on the other hand, felt immobilised, staring at the sheer size of the creature he was about to mount. If the gods were real, now would be the time to give him hope.

“Do you need a hand, Lord Stark?” Claere called down, her voice still holding that sweet laugh.

“I can manage,” Cregan replied sternly, though as his hand grasped the first rope, he doubted his words. The first Stark to ride a dragon, he thought. He would not make a fool of himself.

It took every bit of his strength to pull himself up the ropes, feeling Luna’s immense heat and powerful muscles shift beneath him. The dragon made a thrumming sound—half-growl, half-sigh—and Claere stroked her, speaking softly.

“Luna, jaelagon,” she nearly sang out. Luna, wait.

Finally settling behind her on the saddle, Cregan exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “I didn’t think I’d survive long enough to make it up here,” he muttered, his voice thick with relief.

Claere turned about to face him, her silver hair catching the sunlight. “She likes you, though I’m not sure why.”

“Perhaps because I’m keeping her friend well-fed,” he quipped, his arms instinctively wrapping around her waist as Luna began to rise, wings readying for flight.

She laughed softly, a sound he didn’t often hear from her. “Maybe. Or perhaps because she knows I’d never let her eat you.”

Cregan’s grip tightened as Luna crouched, her wings stretching wide in preparation, leathern scales creaking like taut sails. The ground seemed to tremble beneath them, but Claere was unfazed, completely at ease atop the creature that could so easily rain ruin and destruction over cities. Cregan, meanwhile, could only marvel at her fearlessness, this strange and beautiful woman who, for all her quiet rage and somber smiles, steered a force of nature with nothing more than a whisper.

“You look as though you’re debating jumping off,” Claere teased again, turning her head slightly to catch a glimpse of his tensed face. “Still uncertain?”

“Aye,” he muttered, not entirely making a jest. “But I trust you.”

Her violet eyes softened, and the distance between them bridged for a brief moment. He pressed his lips over her ear, kissing her deeply.

And with a sharp Valyrian command—"Sōvēs, Luna!"—Luna leapt into the sky, her wings beating against the cold air. Fly, Luna!

They scaled up higher and higher, the icy winds biting at Cregan's face as the ground became a distant blur below. The sheer speed, the strength in every beat of Luna’s wings, made his heart thunder. He understood in that moment what it truly meant to ride a dragon. It was more than flight—it was dominion, unchallenged and absolute. The Targaryens didn’t just ride beasts—they commanded the very essence of freedom itself.

Beyond him, Luna let out an explosive roar that echoed into the heavens, a cry not of fury but of pure exhilaration. It reverberated through his chest, drowning out everything but the sound of the wind tearing past them.

And in front of him, Claere—his ever-composed, lady wife—was not the woman bound to Winterfell or its solemn halls. She became unrecognizable. Wild, untamed, she moved with Luna as if they were one. He could see the sheer ecstasy in her, an exuberance that was unburdened by duty, unchained from her past.

Claere twisted her head back to him with a grin, her silver hair whipping across her face. “Still believe you can handle it?”

He opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, she twisted a rein around her wrist and leaned forward, and Luna suddenly plummeted. The world spun in a violent spiral, clouds swivelling as they dived. His grip tautened, and a growl escaped his throat—half terror, half awe.

“Claere!” he roared, though the rush of air stole his voice.

But there was no fear in her. She simply laughed along, steering Luna suavely.

His stomach lurched as they hurtled toward the earth, but just as quickly, Luna swooped, her massive wings spreading to catch the wind and slow them to a smooth glide. Cregan couldn’t stop himself. The shout of fear turned into something else—an uncontrollable whoop of excitement that burst from his lips. This was living, this was it. He threw back his head, letting out a deep, throaty laugh, adrenalin flooding his veins.

Still breathless, Luna glided the clouds at a leisurely pace, and Cregan curved his arms around Claere's midsection, holding her closer.

"I think I’d rather be on a horse next time,” he breathed into her hair, though the gleam in his eyes betrayed his words.

Claere twisted in the saddle, her smirk full of mischief. “You sound much braver with both feet planted, my lord.”

He barked a laugh, despite himself. “You scared the sense out of me.”

Her smile only widened, and for a moment, as they drifted across the sky, she seemed like the girl she might’ve been if things had been different—before duty, loss, and impressions. It struck him, how young she truly was, how young they both were. Six and ten, nine and ten. Merely children who had grown too fast for expectations. But that was the way of their world—of power, of society, of tradition, of ambition, of titles—that weighed heavy long before they could even begin to understand them.

Luna tilted her wings gently, and they coasted toward the golden horizon, irrevocable souls entwined with the wind.

X

The snow had melted by the time they neared Castle Cerwyn, the old stone fortress standing strong against the sprawling landscape. The castle, though smaller than Winterfell, carried the same powerful significance—an imposing sight against the bare, snow-swept hills. The black-and-silver banner of House Cerwyn—a crowned sword on a dark field—flapped fiercely in the wind.

Cregan’s eyes darted to the men waiting in the courtyard, their breath misting in the frigid air, and at the forefront stood Lonnel Cerwyn, tall, dark and broad, his thick furs making him look even more massive. His pale eyes, like chips of ice, were locked on them, his bearded face twisted into what looked like a permanent scowl.

As they dismounted, Luna’s massive form cast a shadow across the courtyard, her silver-and-pearl scales glinting against the sky. The dragon huffed, her breath steaming as she lowered her head, watching the newcomers with predatory eyes. Lord Cerwyn, his gaze moving from the dragon to Claere and then back to Cregan, strode forward with conscious steps, not wanting to agitate the beast.

“You’re late, Stark,” Cerwyn barked, his voice booming across the courtyard, rough as the northern cold itself. "Thought you’d flown off south, or maybe you’ve forgotten how to ride anything with four legs."

Cregan smirked as he helped Claere down from Luna’s saddle, although she didn't need it, his hand briefly resting on her lower back. She lingered near the dragon, her eyes scanning the unfamiliar surroundings as she edged closer to Luna’s side for comfort.

"No dragon's taken my wits yet, Cerwyn," Cregan said, unable to suppress a laugh. "I had half a mind to see if your lot’s finally learned what manners look like."

Cerwyn’s scowl deepened for a heartbeat, then cracked as he let out a deep laugh that could have shaken the very walls. He seized Cregan in a bear hug, slapping his back with enough force to knock the wind from his lungs.

"Manners, eh? If you’ve brought them with you, they’ll freeze before they reach the hall!"

Cregan chuckled, pulling back. "Some things never change. You’re still uglier than pig shit."

"Aye, but at least I’m not riding dragons, you mad cunt." Cerwyn’s grin widened as he looked past Cregan to Claere, his gaze gentling a fraction.

Turning his attention to her, Cerwyn’s mirth faded into something more respectful, though his northern bluntness remained. He bowed before her and shot her an exaggerated wink.

"You’ve made quite the entrance, Your Grace. No Targaryen has set foot in these halls—until today. Castle Cerwyn is all yours."

Claere, standing beside a rumbling Luna, felt the weight of his gaze. She inclined her head, her fingers briefly grazing the dragon's hide for comfort.

"Lord Cerwyn," she greeted quietly, her voice even, but there was a reluctance in her stance. "It’s an honour."

Cerwyn’s eyes flicked to Luna, the massive beast dwarfing the entire castle, and then back to Claere. “An honour? No, my lady, the honour is mine.” He took a step closer, his tone shifting to high earnest. “And I thank you for the Glass Gardens. Your gift will feed not only Winterfell but all of us in the hard seasons to come.”

Claere dipped her head in a bare curtsey, her eyes flickering with uncertainty, though she spoke evenly. "The North will need all its strength, Lord Cerwyn. Winter is coming."

Lonnel regarded her for a moment longer before turning back to Cregan with a knowing grin. “You never cease to surprise me, you gruff bastard. So how did you manage to charm the princess with all your brooding?”

Cregan crossed his arms, raising a brow. "Hardly a charm—more like persistence."

Lonnel snorted, amused. “Wore her down, did you? Poor lass.” He glanced at Claere, who gave a small, almost imperceptible smile.

Cregan chuckled, but his gaze drifted briefly to Claere, sensing her unease in the bustling courtyard. She stood poised but quiet, her hands occasionally brushing Luna’s scales as though seeking solace from the dragon’s proximity.

“Come on, then,” Lonnel waved them toward the castle gates, his grin widening as he added in a low tone, “before the snow buries us all.”

As they moved forward, the men of Cerwyn’s hall bowed deeply to Cregan, murmuring their respects with “Lord Stark,” while their gazes flickered in curiosity toward Claere. She received more nods and soft murmurs of “my princess” and “my lady” than she ever had at Winterfell, though the gestures only seemed to accentuate how out of place she still felt. She bowed her head in return, her hands folding neatly at her waist, but her silence remained. Cregan kept her by his side, not pressing her to speak, knowing well enough that she would adjust on her own time. For now, she was still the strange Valyrian witch of the North, standing tall and composed despite the swirl of hesitation beneath.

“We’ve plenty of meat and wine,” Lonnel added, clapping Cregan on the shoulder once more. “Though if you’re lucky, Stark, I’ll keep the jests about you riding the White Dread to a minimum.”

X

As the sky darkened above the Wolfswood, Cregan and Lonnel sat beneath the shelter of towering pines, just at the edge of a wide valley. Their breath misted in the cold air, and the sounds of the night around them blended into a quiet symphony of rustling branches and distant wolf howls. The hunting had long been set aside, and now they sat by the fire, its flickering light casting shifting shadows against the trees as they lifted their horns of ale, hands near-freezing in the brisk night.

Lonnel took another swig, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his gaze shifting to the horizon beyond. He shook his head, casting a sly glance at Cregan, his mouth tugging into a smirk.

"By the gods, Stark, you’ve gone and done it. Brought dragon's blood into your hearth. Tell me—what’s the princess like when that fire isn’t blazing for the rest of us to see?” He leaned in, his grin turning wicked. “Or does it blaze on, even in the dark?”

Cregan chuckled, leaning back against the trunk of a tree. "You’ve always had a filthy mouth, Lonnel. But she’s more than what you’d imagine."

"Oh, I’m imagining plenty." Lonnel laughed, his voice rich with mischief. "I see her there in Winterfell, all young and radiant. You’re telling me that’s what you bed at night? No wonder you’ve got that weary look in your eyes. Must take all the strength you’ve got, mounting a dragon till the dawn.”

Cregan shot him a playful glare. "Weary? I could still break you in half before you took a step. And I’d gladly do it too if you keep going."

Lonnel grinned, shrugging as he raised his horn of ale. "It’s her that keeps you on your toes, eh? Taming a woman with Old Valyrian fire in her veins… Gods, I can’t even get my own wife to listen to me, and Arelle's nought but Northborn. What chance do you have against dragon’s blood?”

Cregan shook his head, his expression softening. "There’s no taming her, and I’d be a fool to try. She’s wilder than the wind… and I wouldn’t want it any other way."

"Wild like the wind,” Lonnel mused, scratching his chin with a grin. “Or a storm? What’s it like, then? When it’s just the two of you?”

Cregan’s gaze shifted to the flames, reflective, an unknowing smile growing on his lips. Any mention of her only expanded his chest three times its size. "It’s quieter than you’d think. In those moments, it’s as if everything falls away. The world itself. She’s entirely… Claere. And she’s mine."

Lonnel raised an eyebrow, his grin easing to something softer, more genuine. "So the wolf’s got a heart, then, under all that steel and duty."

"Mind your tongue before I remember we’re only friends."

Lonnel snorted, draining his horn with a nostalgic shake of his head. “Friends, aye. But I remember when we were hardly more than lads. Drunk on bad ale and worse decisions. Gods, do you remember that girl?” He leaned in, smirking. “The one in Torrhen’s Square? Tall as a sapling, golden hair?”

Cregan laughed, rubbing his face, caught off guard. “Alannys.” He shook his head with a groan. “She took one look at us, decided I was the taller one, and sent you packing.”

“How tragic for Alannys,” Lonnel quipped, a wry grin forming. “She wouldn’t have handled both a Stark and Cerwyn in one night, I tell you that. Good thing I saved that coin for... Malia? Mylla? Fuck if I know.”

Cregan chuckled, raising his horn in a mock toast. “To bad ale and worse decisions.”

"And those poor girls who survived us." Lonnel laughed, clinking his horn against Cregan's. They let out a deep sigh in unison, leaning back. “Look at us now—wives, babes, duties. Gods, we’ve come far, Stark.”

"Too far, some would say.” Cregan’s smile faded, a sense of gravity settling in. “You took us in without question, Lonnel. For that, I owe you.”

Lonnel waved a dismissive hand. “You’re a brother to me. The gates of Castle Cerwyn open for you, whether you come with a pack of direwolves or a damned dragon. You know that.” He paused, his gaze falling on Cregan, more intense. “But you must also know why the whispers reached me before you did. The North listens, Cregan. And it’s hearing a lot more than just the flapping of dragon wings.”

Cregan’s brow furrowed slightly, but he stayed silent, letting Lonnel continue.

“They say she’s been to the Wall more times than any crow has seen. They say she’s witnessed what no man should and kept it all to herself. Dark things, ancient things. And if it all comes back for her…” He let the words hang, heavy between them. “What will you do?”

Cregan’s jaw tightened. “I’ll do what I’ve always done.”

Lonnel chuckled, shaking his head. “Stand and fight, aye. It’s what we were raised to do. But this storm you’ve brought to your door, Stark… it doesn’t just take the one who called it. It takes everything in its path.”

Cregan stared into the flames, thinking about all that had passed in the recent weeks. “She hasn’t told me all of what she’s seen,” he admitted, his voice lower. “But it haunts her. It pains me to see her like that, Lonnel. That’s why I brought her here—to find some measure of peace.”

Lonnel eyed him, more serious now, then took a long drink, the mood sinking as the fire crackled between them. “She’s not just Lady Stark, Cregan—not just your wife. And you’ve more than love at stake. If whatever comes for her… you’ll fight back, I know it. But she’s a crown. And crowns bring war.”

Cregan’s eyes flickered, his face hardening as he looked into the fire. “The North has always known war. It's nothing new.”

Lonnel exhaled a bitter laugh, though his gaze didn’t soften. “Not this kind of war, my friend. Not one that comes from the dark beyond the Wall… or from the throats of ten grown dragons beyond the Reach.”

Cregan’s gaze hardened, resolute. He would not yield his wife for anyone or anything, kin or foe.

“Then let them all come.”

X

The sunlight felt like a rare gift upon Cregan's skin, the warmth cajoling him into a state of near-sleep as he lay across the tough leather rug, between the tall grass, his head pillowed on Claere’s lap, a contented smile playing on his lips as her fingers worked through his hair, weaving small braids with deft movements. Beneath his closed eyelids, the sun burned faint patterns, flickering with each shift of the sparse clouds above. Her voice wafted over him, soft but clear, painting tales of the Bay of Ice, of the frigid, salt-bitten wind, and of Luna hunting seals over those frozen waters.

"They think she swallowed a star," she told him, laughing, a fingertip tracing the length of his nose.

This was paradise. Perhaps it had found him before his deathbed. He hummed along, not truly listening.

He caught faint fragments of her words, the sweet dulcet of her voice rising and falling like a ballad, as she described House Wull’s hardy folk, their eagerness for Luna’s fire to melt the icebergs so they could fish the rich waters beneath. He felt half-lost in the weave of her tale, lulled by the warmth of the sun, the distant clicks of insects, and her fingers threading through his hair like strands of silk.

In a flash, his head slipped from her lap, his neck cricking at an awkward angle. He straightened, rubbing at the spot with a hiss, only to catch sight of her, already cradling a small brown hare, her touch gentle as she brushed its ears and stroked its belly. The sight of her, intent on the little creature, was enough to coax a grin from him.

“Another one for the cookpot then, my lady?” he teased, his voice low and affectionate.

Claere barely spared him a glance, scowling. “Don't be daft.”

Cregan chuckled, leaning back on his elbows as she continued fussing over the hare, her fingers tracing its paws as if in reverence.

“Strange, though,” he said after a moment, his tone more curious than jesting. “What exactly turns you from meat?”

She looked down, her expression thoughtful. “I realized very young that all the world is a balance. Give and take,” she replied with quiet conviction. “My dear dragon's appetite is ample enough; I’d rather give back than take more myself. With her takings are my denials.” Her eyes softened, a shadow of memory flickering there. “I’ve stayed away from it ever since.”

He tilted his head, struck by the dignity and care in her words, considering her. “And what of your tourneys, then? The royal hunts on your namedays? A fine feast without a kill—well, some would call it unseemly for a princess.”

She gave a light shrug, almost nonchalant. “I never had any such thing.”

The words hung there, simple but sharp. She didn’t look at him, her gaze fixed on the playful hare. And he knew better than to pry—the silences of her brothers in her presence, absence of her queen mother's well-wishings, the vacant gestures from her kin, all spoke of a girl with Targaryen blood, Valyrian heritage, truest claim left with the least, yet no more than a shadow in her family’s regard. She’d been raised like an instrument, a spare, the uncelebrated princess, a piece on a board she was never meant to play.

Breaking the silence, Claere spoke, her voice barely above a murmur. “Your namedays must’ve been different.”

Cregan felt a bittersweet smile tug at his lips. Anything to divert his pity. He let the memories flood back, the good ones.

“Different, aye," he sighed.

Claere let the hare hop off her lap, which then refused to run off, waiting on its hind paws by the edge of the mat.

“I was gifted a direwolf pup once, all fur and bluster. Only two weeks in, it was off like the wind. Ran as far as its legs would carry it the first time I made it wear a collar.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “It never came back.”

She laughed under her breath, a soft sound like water slipping over stone. “I should have guessed. But I could find you one if you wish it,” she offered, almost teasing. “The kennel master’s raising a whole pack of them now. They’re all tremendous, close to soldiers.”

He tilted his head back, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Another collar and another beast bound to run?” he teased, the light in his eyes warm. “Or perhaps I’ll forego wolves and settle for that dragon I was promised.”

“If you dare to face it,” she said, eyes narrowing with playful challenge. “The next clutch is yours for the choosing.”

His laughter rolled through the quiet woods, deep and warm. “So, you’d spoil me not just with Winterfell’s fiercest fire, but with her hatchlings too? You know, I think this northern air has made you a touch reckless.”

Her eyes glinted, playful, leaning closer as she matched his tone. “It’s only fair that I spoil you in turn,” she whispered, her voice silken, carrying through the hushed trees like a spell.

"Oh, my love, you've spoiled me very much."

He hummed, pleased, and then, without warning, pulled her close and rolled her beneath him on the soft leather rug. The breath left her in a misty gasp, her gaze meeting his—startled, but not resisting. His weight was grounding, solid and warm, and for a moment, the world narrowed to the space between them, the drift of his breath, the quiet crackle of the leaves around them.

Her gaze flitted as his hand moved to the hilt of the Valyrian dagger he carried, her gift to him from the time before, offered with silent promises of protection. He unsheathed it slowly, the blade glinting, and her eyes traced its movement, following as he held it between them.

“With this. A rare gift,” he murmured, “from a rare woman.”

His words were low, each syllable drawn out as he slid the dagger to the bow at her bodice, poised at the silk ribbon’s edge. With a slow, deliberate twist, he dragged the blade down, the tip of it sharp but light against her skin as the fabric came undone. Her breath hitched as she felt the cool brush of metal taunting her, each tug loosening her defences. The fabric loosened and gave way under his touch, her chest rising and falling in a rhythm that matched his own.

“And now, sweetling,” he whispered, his lips brushing her ear, voice rough, yet unhurried, “how would you rescue yourself from me?”

He moved the knife lower, its edge trailing over the delicate fabric, a promise and a threat wrapped in tenderness. "Hmm?"

She gave a shiver, yet her eyes held his, and there was no fear there, only a steady defiance. His breath was warm against her ear, his voice a low rumble as he traced the knife along her bodice, a feather’s weight skimming her skin. But her gaze never wavered, the faintest glint of mischief sparking in her eyes.

In one swift motion, Claere twisted beneath him, and with a deft manoeuvre, caught him off balance. She rose, bashing the knife from his grip and flipping him onto his back with a victorious grin, sitting astride him.

Cregan gave a low laugh, a touch winded, staring up at her in bemusement. “You think to best me?”

Her mouth curled, fierce and gleeful. “Seems I already have.”

His hands slid up to cradle her face, and then he drew her into a gruff, enticing kiss, all hasty lips, quiet moans, his warmth a balm against the long palls she bore. She softened in his arms that scuffed into her back eagerly, her fingers trailing down his jaw, meeting his fervour with her own, as though she could draw every bit of the strength and surety he offered.

He paused, breathless, the dominating weight of her against him stirring him upright. With a steadying exhale, he pulled back, eyes still locked on hers, and reached to loosen his cuffs, the sound of each metal clasp a whirr of intent as he shrugged off the coat of plates, carelessly letting it slide off.

But when he looked up, it was her watching him, her loosened bodice held against her chest. Her gaze was calm, unguarded, a touch of wonder damping her expression as if she were seeing him in a new light, yet holding some invisible line between them. Cregan let his hands fall to his sides, sensing her hesitation, yet unmoving in his resolve.

“You think to leave me bested, then, after all this?” he murmured, his voice a teasing rumble that chased away the last shadows between them.

She raised a brow, lips curving. Her arms dropped, letting her bodice fall loose from her chest.

“Consider it a reminder of who you are dealing with.”

He laughed and leaned back on his palms, his candid gaze holding hers. “Then come closer, and let me be reminded once more.”

X

Even with the amicable airs of Castle Cerwyn, sleep evaded Claere like a wary shadow. She would lay awake, eyes tracing patterns from the night sky in the darkened ceiling, her mind tangled in dark memories and half-formed fears. More than once, Cregan stirred beside her, sensing her wakefulness. He’d gather her close, his hand soothing circles along her back, murmuring in that low voice of his.

“Sleep, love,” he’d say and kiss her hair. “It's all gone. You're far beyond it. I have you now.”

She’d push her face into the crook of his neck, his heartbeat steady under her cheek, grounding her, though the shadows still lingered.

Another night, he left and returned with a fur-lined blanket warmed by the fire, wrapping it snugly around her. He traced a thumb along her temple and cheek, eyes full of a patience that was, to her, an astonishment. Be it anyone else, they would have left her to find her own peace.

“I’ll stay awake for you, keep the shadows at bay,” he promised, half in jest, half earnest.

She reached out, her fingertips brushing the curve of his lips, a gesture that was as much for him as it was for herself. "Thank you."

A small smile lifted her lips, shy but true, feeling for once as if the weight on her shoulders had lessened, just a touch. In this moment, she knew she loved him—loved him with a depth that ran deeper than duty or bond. His patience was a balm, his nearness an anchor; it healed wounds she’d long since stopped tending to. And though she rarely gave voice to the feeling, it surged within her now, filling the cracks she had long since accepted.

In his presence, she realized, she was safe.

By the fourth morning, a softened tranquillity had woven through her—delicate, a return to herself. Breathing in the cool air of Castle Cerwyn, letting the scents of moss and pine fill her lungs, she felt her apprehension slip further away here, watching Cregan exult with his old friend Lonnel. She saw a side of him she’d never truly seen—unburdened, joyful—as if the duties that weighed him down in Winterfell had been cast aside, lightened in this place.

The aviary, her newfound haven, beckoned to her like a sanctuary of life and song. She spent hours among the birds, marvelling at the late Lord Cerwyn’s collection: songbirds that trilled melodies, fierce hawks, regal eagles, white doves, and her favourite—a grey parrot that greeted her with a soft hum whenever she hummed first. It was the gentlest of welcomes, and for a while, she felt just a nobody wandering among the trees.

"A lovely voice, Your Grace. I've only ever heard tell of it,” came a voice from behind her.

She turned, startled, to find Lonnel Cerwyn leaning against the aviary gate, a faint smile playing on his lips. She dipped her head in acknowledgement, still unused to strangers’ easy familiarity, and now hesitantly drifted along the cages, learning the birds.

As Claere continued to walk beside the cages, she sensed Lonnel’s presence still at her side, solid and patient. His eyes followed her gaze across the rows of birds, some chirping softly, others watching her back with colourful, attentive eyes.

“So,” he said, breaking the silence, “you’ve taken to our feathered friends, then? I wouldn’t have taken a Targaryen to like things caged. Would’ve thought you preferred creatures of… larger wingspans.”

Claere smiled, her gaze lingering on the hawk perched within, its fierce stare mirroring her own restraint.

“You’re not wrong, my lord. I believe they belong to the skies.” She paused, turning to look at him. “They’re creatures of flight; seeing them locked away feels strange. Wouldn’t they serve better if trained?”

Lonnel hummed, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “Ah, but trust’s a hard thing in the North, my lady. We cage what we cannot lose. They might turn loyal, but even a hawk can strike when cornered.”

Claere’s gaze drifted to a small thrush flitting nervously in its cage, and her voice softened. “Even so. Let a creature soar; you might find it follows because it chooses to. Lock it away, and all you see is its shadow.” Her fingers grazed the bars thoughtfully. "It's why Luna never lived in the dingy lairs of Dragonmont. I left her to fly free wherever she wanted."

Lonnel studied her, a flash of understanding passing between them. “Perhaps we Northerners hold onto things too tightly,” he said.

Lonnel hummed thoughtfully, reaching into a cage to coax a hawk onto his glove. "And one of those beautiful things is Violet. Violet's been a hunting guide of mine for years."

She watched as he gently lifted Violet, her wings extending wide.

But as they unfurled, a sudden vision struck her: flashes of white feathers shifting into silver scales, the hawk’s call blurring into Luna’s roar. She could see it: a thousand wildlings pouring over the Wall, spears in hand, flames burning, their faces darkened under the thick coats. Another flash—the great walls of Winterfell loomed over her, blood staining the stones, and in the fray stood Cerwyn, his hands red and his pace relentless, sword in hand, facing a shadowed foe.

She blinked hard, the vision dissipating as quickly as it had come. Lonnel was watching her, the hawk calm in his grip.

"My lady?" he called, a tension lacing his tone.

Claere steadied her breath and lifted her gaze to him, her hand immediately reaching up to press against his cheek, her fingers cool against his warm skin, as if she were grounding herself. She didn’t know what part of the future she’d seen, if it was his, his children’s, or some fate destined for the next generation. But her heart trembled with the significance of it.

“Keep your heart steady, Lord Cerwyn,” she said as if speaking to him across time itself.

Lonnel’s face flickered with surprise, but he didn’t pull away. He only held her gaze, a silent promise passing between them, however one-sided it was, a confused understanding.

And then, with that quiet exchange lingering like the last note of a song, she withdrew, leaving him with the young hawk in hand, her footsteps retreating along the path of the aviary.

X

The grand hall of Castle Cerwyn was smaller than Winterfell’s, yet it brimmed with warmth, a soft familiarity that softened the edges of the North’s rugged chill. The hearth crackled with thick logs, filling the space with a heat that seeped into the bones, banishing the crisp cold outside. Long trestle tables bore the evening’s fare—a hearty venison roast glazed with honey and herbs, cheese pies, oatcakes with dried fruits, dark bread still steaming, and pitchers of spiced ale that filled the air with a fragrant bite. The scents were rich and earthy, consorting with the soft murmur of voices and laughter that filled the space.

Arelle, Lonnel’s wife, was glowing despite her swelling belly. Her hand rested protectively over her babe, the big smile on her lips a mere instinct. Her dark hair fell over her shoulders loosely, framing a face alight with contentment as she looked to Lonnel, who seemed unable to take his eyes off her. Their gazes would meet across the table, exchanging silent fondness, and Cregan found himself observing them with a stifled smile, reminded of his and Claere’s own shared moments. He had been fortunate enough to find something like that in his own time. Patience truly was a virtue.

Cregan reached for Claere’s hand beneath the table, a gentle squeeze. She bent her fingers between his, holding him tighter, squeezing back.

For the first time in weeks, they were somewhere uncomplicated, unburdened by towering walls and solemn silences.

Conversation flowed as if from a babbling brook, Lonnel regaling them with tales of old hunts and mishaps, each story coaxing a rare smile from Claere. Then, Arelle leaned forward, her eyes bright with anticipation.

“My lady,” she said, almost shyly. “Lonnel mentioned you were… quite exceptional with the harp. I’ve longed to hear you play ever since.”

Cregan felt his chest tighten, a flicker of worry crossing his face. He knew Claere’s songs were steeped in her visions and dreams, dark prophecies veiled in melody. But before he could speak, Claere interfered.

“It would be my pleasure,” she said, her voice gentle yet trusting.

Cregan’s worry ebbed as quickly as it came, replaced by admiration. She always surprised him. He’d seen her hands coax Luna's fires to life, and wield the delicate tools of her garden, and, now, he was about to see them breathe life into a song.

A harp was brought forward on the dais, its golden strings gleaming in the firelight, and Claere’s long, delicate fingers traced over them with an intimacy born of instinct. She began to play a soft tune, one that filled the hall like a lullaby, each note like a petal floating through the air, softening the stillness. Her melody was warm and peaceful—a rare sound from her, as though she was offering a glimpse of a world unburdened.

Her sweet voice, smooth as silk, joined the harp, and the words she sang wove into the room like a spell:

"In fields of frost and towering trees, a heart’s true kin awaits in peace..."

As her voice wove through the hall, soft and lilting, Cregan felt the world fade around them. Each note hung in the air, heavy with a sweetness he recognized as his own. Her words fell like secrets meant only for him, and as her gaze met his, a smile played at his lips, slow and sure. She was singing for him, he realized, in this open hall, like an unspoken vow carved into the heart of the North.

His chest swelled, a fierce, undeniable warmth sweeping through him. Every hardship, every moment they had faced together—the bitter nights, the bone-chilling dawns, the weariness—all of it had led to this calm, boundless love. Here she was, with a song that spoke of him, binding his heart to hers before the world as if none but they two could hear it.

Cregan held onto this moment with almost reverent care, a part of him feeling almost foolishly lucky. She was his, this woman of fire and prophecy, and though she bore shadows in her past, here and now, her voice was for him. And he knew, with all the steel and sinew of his being, that he loved her more deeply than he could ever say.

And he should've known, what he had been conditioned to consider beyond all this newfound devotion, that not all good things last very long.

As Claere's song drifted in the air, the hall doors opened, and the castle's maester entered, his face grave beneath the dim candlelights. He crossed the floor to Cregan, extending a parchment sealed with the unmistakable black wax of the Night’s Watch.

“Dire straits, Lord Stark,” he intoned, his voice respectful but heavy with urgency.

Cregan’s hand tightened around the parchment, breaking the seal as he read its contents. As he did, the lightness in the hall seemed to drain.

When he looked up, a murmur passed through the hall as all eyes fixed on him. He hesitated, then addressed his audience, his voice collected but cold. “A word from the Wall.”

Lonnel, his face creased with confusion, asked, “Wildling attack?”

“Worse.” Cregan’s voice was sombre, his face darkening. “They’ve overrun the garrison at Queensgate. A chieftain who calls himself Sylas the Grim led a force of three thousand through the breach.”

There was a ripple of reaction in the room. Claere’s hands stilled on her harp, her gaze intent. She’d heard stories of wildlings crossing the Wall, of skirmishes and raids, but this was different. This was an army. And this Sylas—a man none of them had known even existed—had crushed a garrison with ease and marched past the castles.

The maester’s voice interrupted Cregan’s grim revelation. “Sylas is bound southward, with his war band tearing through the lands of the Gift.” He paused, glancing at Claere. “They say he’s sworn himself to find the one who rides the snow dragon.”

Silence filled the hall, as heavy as iron.

“He rides,” Cregan declared, almost as if the words could summon the reality, “for the Dragon Queen of the North.”

A silence fell over the room, tense and laden with foreboding. Cregan stared at Claere, her face unreadable, yet he knew her mind was already spinning, parsing every implication, every thread of what this could mean. Lonnel’s earlier warning hung between them, and it felt as though every word had foreshadowed this moment. That grim prophecy that now took shape before them all. You’ve brought the storm to your door, Stark. It'll take everything in its path.

The carefree laughter, the warmth of the hearth, the taste of ale—all felt painfully distant now. War had reached their doorstep, a shadow from beyond the Wall. She had brought her dragon, and the storm had followed. And with it, the delicate peace they’d found here, so fragile, slipped through their fingers like the last light of day.

X

*gasp* storm's a-comin'... and it's coming for our girl. only a few chapters left! thank you for reading and keeping up!

a question for my loveliest people: what do you think is Claere's sun sign or moon sign? What about Cregan's?

[ taglist: @pearldaisy , @thatkindofgurl , @theadharablack , @cherryheairt , @beingalive1 , @oxymakestheworldgoround , @tigolebittiez , @cosmosnkaz , @lv7867 , @piper570 , @danikasthings , @acsc8 , @justdazzling ] -> thank you for your endless support everyone!

[to-the-stars8]

The Waynes' Nanny

Batfamily and Reader/ Bruce Wayne x Reader Chapters Ao3

Take Your Nanny To Work Day

Without a shadow of a doubt, you could safely say that Mr. Wayne adored, doted on, and loved his children. They were the apple of his eye and the wind beneath his wings. Yet, when you appeared in his office on a Friday afternoon with his three youngest children, he was very unimpressed. 

Per usual, he said hello to the kids, smiling, kissing, and hugging them, and—in an also not unusual way—he pulled you to the side to scold you. He had told you before not to bring them while he was working, so you pointed out that it was his lunch period. 

“You can’t possibly be working during lunch, Mr. Wayne,” You said with a sly smile. “Especially when you so often encourage your children not to overwork. That would be hypocritical of you.”

There, he had little to no argument. 

Though, proudly, he could say there was a lot of irritation with you. He told you to walk ahead while he spoke to his secretary, more than likely moving meetings around so he could spend more time with the kids.

The Wayne Enterprises cafeteria was nice. With fancy glassware, plates, and the nicest selection of foods, the whole place just looked like a Wayne got their hands on it. It smelled wonderful, too, like the best chefs in the world were in the kitchen cooking away. All around the huge room were floor-length windows, and Tim demanded a table near one of them as you waited for Bruce to come down. Duke, who wasn’t one for demanding things like his older brother, asked in some agreement if all of you could sit by the windows. 

“Yeah, Damian wants to sit over there, too,” Tim said. Looking at Damian, it was clear that the little boy hardly knew what was happening.  

“Well, since you asked so politely,” You sarcastically remarked. “I think we might as well.”

Tim ran over to the window with Duke following suit, pressing his face against the glass as he looked down at all the people. Walking with Damian in hand, you looked down at the people below. You hadn’t noticed before just how high up you were, and it made you a bit dizzy as you realized it. 

Sitting, you urged the two boys to join you and their younger brother, but they were quickly caught up in an intense game of I Spy. Clicking your tongue, you instead turned your attention onto Damian who was busy playing with a new Blue’s Clues toy Mr. Wayne had gotten him. You played with Dami until you heard the boys start getting loud. 

“No! I was talking about that one,” Tim exclaimed. 

You were quick to correct him. “Timothy, inside voice.”

He mumbled an apology before turning back to the window. You admired the boys for a second and, now and then, played I Spy with them. It was nearly perfect until you heard it, some ladies and a man talking about you. 

“They don’t even look like they have the same father,” said a man’s voice.

A lady snickered before saying, “What would you expect? Just look at her.”

You wanted to get up and yell at them, but that wouldn’t be a good example to the kids. Plus, you could practically hear Mr. Wayne lecturing you if anything of the sort happened. Shaking it off, you went back to paying attention to the boys. 

At least, you tried to. 

They were still talking about you, and, even after your harsh over-the-shoulder glare, they weren’t stopping. The three of them stripped you down until they could only talk about the same things over and over. That was fine with you, as long as they were only talking about you. 

Suddenly, they were talking about the kids and you thought about ignoring them as you had with their conversation about you. 

“And the braids in that boy's hair!” It was obvious they were talking about Duke who had just had his hair done the day before and was so excited about it. Bruce was proud of himself, too, because he’d spent the whole day at the barber shop learning ways to maintain the braid. Their conversation made you decide you needed to say something when they said, "He looks like he doesn't belong, and neither does that loud black-haired boy. There has to be something wrong with them."

Standing, you put Damian next to Tim and Duke. “Stay here. Understand?”

They looked confused, but, since your voice was sharp and serious, agreed. Sucking in a breath, you stormed over to the table behind yours. 

In a low voice, you said, “If I hear one more goddamn thing come out of your mouth about my kids, I will take you into the kitchen and wipe the floor with all three of you. Maybe not you—” You pointed at the man with the thick round glasses. “Harry Potter, you look like you have streaks in your boxers.”

The three of them were red in the face, ready to scream at you before a voice cut over theirs, “Is there an issue here?”

Looking up, you saw Bruce standing there with his hands on his hips. The three at the table began to stumble over themselves, denying all accusations before you could throw them. It wasn’t until Damian noticed Bruce and ran over that they stopped. 

“Daddy!” The boy laughed as his dad picked him up. 

Duke and Tim ran over, too, both of them latching onto their father. It was then the three people at the table made their excuses and left. You tried to follow after, but Bruce snapped at you to stay. 

“We’ll talk about it in a minute,” He said. “Come on, let’s get these kids something to eat before they start biting our arms off.”

Giggling, the three boys playfully chomped on the two of you as you grabbed the trays and hopped in line. While standing in line, you tried to explain what had happened to Mr. Wayne, but he quickly quieted you. Again, he reminded you that everything would be discussed later. With a huff, you decided to change the subject for now since he was more than likely blowing you off so the kids wouldn’t have to hear. 

“Can I get some cake,” Duke asked. 

Bruce ran a hand over his cheek and smiled, “Sure thing, buddy. Tim, do you want one?”

“No, I want ice cream,” He said as he was already pulling the small bowl of ice cream toward him. 

Damian chimed in, “Me too, please!” 

Once the kids got what they wanted and were sitting at the table eating away, Bruce pulled you off to a hidden corner of the room to talk while still able to watch the kids. You were still fuming with rage, hardly able to hold back the story when he finally gave you a chance to speak. Bruce didn’t seem phased by what you had said, and you wondered for a second if he even cared.

“I see,” Was all he said when you were done.

“That’s it?” You said, shocked. “That’s all you have to say after I’ve told you about how racist and cruel those people were being?”

Bruce glanced over to the kids before looking down at you cooly. “What would you like me to do about it?”

“Don’t patronize me, Mr. Wayne.” You shook your head, about to step away because you felt it was obvious that he wouldn’t be any help. There was hardly a step taken before Bruce grabbed your arm and pulled you back. 

“I’m sorry if I gave you that impression, but I was being serious.”

“You’re such a…” You thinned your lips, not wanting to get fired so soon. When you looked up at him there was something about him that you liked way more than you should have. Sucking in a breath, you said, “Fire them, make them write a letter apologizing to you, Tim, and Duke personally—Something of the sort! Send them to a whole HR class about being prejudiced. Something to get the point across to them that what they did was inexcusably unacceptable.”

Mr. Wayne nodded as his eyes went back to the children at the table. You looked back at them to see them giggling as they happily ate their food. It made your stomach churn that anyone could talk about such sweet children in such a way. Shaking your head, you quietly added, “Make ‘em regret it.”

“I will,” Bruce said, reaching up to squeeze your shoulder. “But what about you?”

You looked up at him. “What about me?”

“What they said about you, what did you want done about that?”

You hadn’t thought about that—Really, you had nearly forgotten that part of their conversation. Shaking your head, you told him that nothing needed to be done about that. You were a big girl, you could handle a couple of insults. It was the kids that needed to be worried about. 

Bruce was silent for a few seconds before slowly nodding his head. “We should head back to the kids.”

You wanted to be speechless because, after all that, that’s how he was going to end the conversation. Nonetheless, you nodded and followed him to the table. The kids were glad to have you back, catching you up on all they had talked about in the short time the two of you were gone. 

After lunch, the five of you headed back up to Bruce’s office so the boys could say goodbye to their father in a more private setting. When the hugs and kisses were done, Mr. Wayne pulled you close to tell you that the situation was already being dealt with. You wouldn’t have given it much thought if, as you were leaving, you didn’t see the perpetrators shamefully walk into his office. Looking back at Mr. Wayne, he gave you a quick wink before shutting the door. It wasn't long until you heard loud, muffled yelling.

 Maybe your boss wasn’t as annoying and pompous as you thought.

[sp0-t]

Preview of some upcoming stories?!! (sort of rambles)

SIMON “GHOST” RILEY

You and Simon used to date, it was a while ago, 5 years, 7 months, 2 weeks, and 3 days ago to be exact. You never kept count, you wanted to forget everything. It was Simon that kept count, every second, every minute, every hour. He was there keeping track. You moved on, you had a whole new life at this point, new job, new house, new car, even a new partner. You wanted nothing to do with that old life that old place, that old job still haunting you some nights. But that was all behind you, long ago, no reason to dwell on it, you have a new life a new start that not many got. Your old life was behind you forgotten, like a bad dream.

Except this dream came back to haunt you, physically, in the present. In the physical form of Simon “Ghost” Riley. He was the reason you couldn’t sleep at night, the reason you needed a new life in the first place, needed to run away from the past.

Him

HIM

The last person that deserved to come back into your life was here. And he is persistent per usual, no matter what you do, or what you say to him, he was not going to budge he’d stay stolid and still and he’d be that way for the rest of time if he had to.

He’d wait…

KYLE “GAZ” GARRICK

Gaz and you are two of the biggest names in the modeling world. You can’t talk about it without either name popping up. What makes it even more of popular topic, is the rumor of a certain type of relationship between you two. However these aren’t true they can’t be, at least not yet…

You are in a contract with one of if not the biggest modeling agency in the world, you being their top model, however, you have a very close runner up. They’ve been gaining more and more attraction every year, placing them higher and higher in the rankings. Social media isn’t helping in this case, it’s the very thing that gained them their popularity in the first place. One post about their new male model and the internet goes fucking batshit.

“Who is he?”

“I need him!”

“He’s so fine, omg!”

“The things I would do…”

Well, who is this mystery man, no other than Kyle Garrick. He normally goes by his stage nickname “Gaz”. No one knows where it comes from, but then again no one really cares enough.

However this year both your agency’s are competing for first, both agencies have to put out their best models in a runway show, a panel will then decide who the best is. But then why do people suspect a relationship between the two. A simple cigarette, that was it, a cigarette. Paparazzi can be some nosey individuals, it was after a clothes fitting, both agencies were required to have it done by the same tailor company to remove any bias, and no changes could be made to outfits by this point. It was late out probably 11pm, about to be 12. I guess paparazzi doesn’t sleep, you went out for a cigarette or two. About to light your second you hear the door open behind you.

“Mind if I join you?”

Of course it was him, why wouldn’t it be Gaz

“Do as you please.”

Your voice comes out a bit muffled from the cigarette between your lips. You try and light your cigarette again, you spark the lighter multiple times no flames ever coming to light. You get more and more frustrated the longer it takes to see flames. You bring the thing up to your ear and shake to hear if there’s any liquid, it’s empty. In frustration you throw the lighter against a nearby wall.

“Fucking piece of shit.”

Still muffled from the unlit cigarette you sigh out in frustration and defeat, leaning against the wall behind you. You run your hand through your hair as your about to push off the wall to walk back inside the building, when a flame is placed in front of you.

“Need a light?”

You look up at him a bit confused

“Yeah. Thanks.”

SNAP* SNAP* SNAP* The image of Gaz leaning over slightly cupping the flame to prevent the wind from blowing it out, while you tilt your head a bit up to get your cigarette to reach the flame while Gaz looks down at you. That’s what was going viral, the image, the circulating stories and rumors going around. Both of your names were everywhere, one couldn’t be without the other in the media.

All over a damn cig

💿: I only have two for you today, these are just quick summaries. I’m sorry these are on like “cliff hangers”, I really wanted you guys to make your own assumptions and theories. I do want to start writing an actual full on story for one of the quick ideas I’ve wrote(author!price, PoliceForce!141, and these new ones). I’ll most likely put up a poll for people to vote on which one I’ll write first, so definitely stay around for that if you’re interested!!

(sorry the Simon one is so short but if I added more it would be like double this whole page)

written by: @sp0-t ©️

[mrs-kodzuken]

half of a whole - hajime i.

synopsis: being abused, mentally and physically, caused you to resort to unhealthy coping mechanisms (TW) and made you feel even worse when you knew your soulmate could feel every ounce of pain you felt too. running away to give yourself a better life right out of high school, you managed to run into the one person who somehow knows you like the back of his hand (soulmate!au, self-harm mentions [not explicit], age gap, older!iwa, mentions of homelessness, long fic)

You never gave a thought to how your soulmate would be feeling this, it honestly never crossed your mind. Living in a situation where you're always worried about the next temper tantrum that your parents might have lives in your mind constantly.

Having to share this pain with someone who was fated to you hurt indescribably. You never wanted abusive parents, more so, you never wanted to cope by self-harming either. You tried to shove the thought to the back of your mind and focus on the now.

Another empty beer bottle flew past your head, you felt the sharp air against your face before it crashed and broke into the wall. That definitely brought you back to the now. Your father was drunk, again. It also worsened when he was never sober for even an hour, leading to this rampage.

Between the fighting, the overly loud TVs that would keep you up, the lack of food in the pantries, and the physical and verbal abuse your so-called parents 'graced' you with, it was hard to survive.

You finally made it out of the house, having been trying to be as quiet as possible before your mother could start screaming and calling you all kinds of obscenities.

Blowing a sigh of relief, you were able to walk to work. You had a part-time job, which recently became a full-time job since you graduated, a job that you made it to every day, no matter what.

It was the key to getting out of this hell hole that you lived in too. You were so close in savings to buy a car and have racked up a good amount of experience in food and serving.

The cool wind blew past your face, enlightening a shiver out of you and goosebumps appeared on your arms. It was mid-October, and it was nearing to be very cold outside soon.

Not only did the cold weather make you freeze but it also made your thighs ache from your past unhealthy habits of coping with the parents you have. Being clean was hard, but getting out of here was even harder and you needed to be sane to do that, you thought.

Arriving at your safe haven every day for seven days a week was a blessing that you humbly enjoyed. The warmth caressed you and made you feel safe and even enticed a smile from your face.

"Now there's my favorite employee." Your manager calls over the counter. She slightly knew that things were bad at home but never mentioned it to you, knowing you always got uncomfortable with that kind of situation.

So, she made work feel like the home you never got to have.

"Hi, I'll be here till close again." You softly smiled, glad that she paid you well and enough to keep you saving good money.

"Of course, go ahead and wash up, kiddo. Don't forget bonuses go out today before your shift is over!" She said over her shoulder as you walked into the back to put your raggedy zip up jacket you've had since you were in junior high.

Your manager fed you, on rare occasions hugged you when she could tell a day had been particularly horrible for you. She was like the mother you never got, which made you sad that you wouldn't have any contact with her when you would finally run away. Not having a phone or paying a phone bill saved a lot of money for you, and being blessed with food from work was also a blessing you didn't forget.

As the night began, you found yourself enjoying your shift as per usual. Sometimes, you wondered if your soulmate knew. Like really knew what was going on with you.

They had to, indefinitely, because unhealthy coping mechanisms along with struggling to feed yourself most likely don't go unnoticed by someone who can feel all of your pain.

And for some reason, you rarely ever felt pain that wasn't yours nowadays. Maybe when you were in primary school almost nearing junior high, but your memory was hazy then.

You also often found thinking about what your soulmate was like, how would you meet them, would they even find it in themself to love you? God, you hated that thought.

Soon, it was time of night that always came. Your shift was over. The only thing that you were actually happy about was that you would be getting a bonus and that made you exceptionally happy because who knew how much that would be?

"Here you go kiddo. You're a great worker and I may or may not have put something else in there of my own. Be safe on your way home, okay?" You nodded and allowed her to give you a hug, giving her a smile in return.

On your walk home, you opened the white, crisp envelope with your work number and slowly counted up the bills that were all in there. It came up to roughly around the amount you had needed to finally buy a car and even some leftover. You reached for the little letter with teary eyes that your manager put in there.

It gave her reasoning for adding a couple more hundreds dollar bills for you. That's when the water works really hit. That night you didn't bother entering the house, you snuck in through your window and grabbed your already packed bag. You had packed it of all your essentials that you knew you'd need for when the day came.

That night, you were absolutely elated to finally leave that hell hole. It jumpstarted you finally being able to live your life too.

Two months later, you were working nonstop. You had found a great job that surprisingly paid even more than the one that got you almost all the way through high school. Of course, you were still living in your car until you could save enough to live in an apartment.

Tying your apron back, you grabbed the notepad that had come with it and went out to take orders from more customers. You loved your job; however, you didn't realize how much you never stopped. You always worked, the fear of not having enough, not being able to eat, and never having a stable place to live haunted you.

Believably, you were exhausted.

"Hi, my name is Y/n and I'll be your server for tonight. Is there anything I can start you all off with?" You faked a smile trying to bite back the exhaustion, glancing around the large table filled with even larger, built men. They had taken up the hugest dining table that the restaurant had to offer.

As you wrote down all of their drink orders, some consisting of water, alcohol, juice, and even soda one particular one made you linger.

"Smooth whiskey, please dear." A gruff voice spoke, effectively making your tired eyes meet his older olive-green ones. It wasn't new that all kinds of customers would call you pet-names, but this particular one stood out to you and the way it melted on your skin.

He looked absolutely divine. His hair was neatly gelled into a pristine style, the watch on his wrist looked like it cost a pretty good amount of money and underneath all those clothes, he looked very fit, exceptionally muscular and well built. You just couldn’t help but to ogle him.

When you happened to realize you were staring at him, you cleared your throat feeling your cheeks flush. You heard him let out a small chuckle as you wrote down his drink order.

“Would you guys like anything else to order?” You asked, not paying attention to the moment you just had with this man you don’t even know. Once you got your response from the group, you quickly turned around and headed back to the kitchen to prepare and gather the said drinks.

You just weren’t sure how or why this random man’s eyes and voice were making you feel the way you did. You’ve never even met him before. He seemed to have a certain aura about him that drew you in closer for some reason.

Soon enough, you were back out there to take everybody’s food orders, and after a bunch of disagreements within the group that you listened to because honestly, they were quite funny. You finally got an order from the mysterious man that your heartbeat fast for, for some reason.

He ordered miso soup, “Gotta gotta stay healthy.” He chuckled to his friends, who seemingly groaned, such a weird dynamic, you thought. You didn’t really understand what they were about.

You couldn’t help the tiredness from hitting your eyeballs and making them even more heavy as you were carrying out the plates, three at a time. Since there were nine people, including him, sitting at the large table, you figured it was the best way to handle the food.

As you were on your last round, your body slightly gave out to exhaustion, and the scolding hot bowl of miso soup spilled all over the lower half of your body.

Gasps were heard from the table and surrounding tables whenever you shrieked out in pain.

A hiss also came from the man who’s been watching you all night too, you could feel the first degree burn aching on your legs as you stood there dumbfounded by the pain and exhaustion from working so much.

That's when it all hit you.

The man jumped forward setting the empty, pristine white glass bowl onto the table with a clink then took your hands in his larger, warmer ones as he pulled you towards the nearest bathroom. 

He quickly and effortlessly picked you up and set you on the cold bathroom counters, which was a stark contrast from the burning of your legs. That seemed to numb by now, just a stinging pain left behind. 

Which still really hurts. He grabbed paper towels and wet them with cold water, trying to soothe your pain through your black jeans that you wore for your shift. 

“How does it feel now?” He inquired, his voice full to the brim with a preoccupation for your body, which made no sense to you. He just met you after all.

“It’s fine, thank you. I didn't expect you to help me like this. I was just in pure shock that it even happened and now I'm really ashamed as a server.” You added, disregarding the pain that you were still in, but it was a nice gesture of his to help you, you thought.

“You’re welcome,” he grinned. “I guess this is a good time to tell you that I also felt that without actually feeling it.” He let out a dry chuckle, turning around to gather more paper towels.

That left you shocked and frozen in your place on the counter.

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, you thought, finally putting all the pieces together now. About why his mere present did something to you however, you decided to play dumb and unknowing about the situation you could view through glass at this point.

“What do you mean?” You queried, your voice sounded pitchy and not like you at all. Quite frankly, you were a bit scared.

“Yeah, I didn’t expect it either.” He faltered, “Listen, I have a first-aid kit in my car. If you'd like me to go out and grab it. I just wanna check to make sure your skin is actually okay.” He paused, looking down in discontent at your legs. 

“I feel like we’ve already pushed the boundaries of being weird once I felt that hot soup hit my legs through your own.” He gave you a half smile and put his hand on your shoulder to say that it’ll be okay and then left, leaving you with your racing thoughts and heart.

You were in a terrible predicament.

You didn’t know what to do. You, first embarrassed yourself as a server in front of the entire restaurant, then unintentionally met your soulmate who seemed to be a way a lot older than you as you were just graduated high school. Not to mention just left an abusive household.

And third, it’s going to be increasingly awkward talking to him about the past pains he’s experienced from you, nonetheless when he starts asking questions about you in general.

You had half of mind just to get up and ignore the pain and trudge on through your shift since you didn’t really have a place to go home besides your car. 

You could hear the chatter in the restaurant now. It seems like everyone must’ve forgotten the incident that happened or at least you hoped they did. You also hope to the gods that you weren’t going to be fired for an incident like that. You knew how strict your boss was which was a huge difference from your first manager that you’ve ever had.

Before you could even gather a decision of what to do, the ladies room doors were opening again, and you hoped for a split second that it was just another woman. Instead, it was the man you had met, who had said he felt your pain, the man who was supposed to be your soulmate.

“Hey look, I know it’s gonna be really weird and a lot has already happened tonight, but I have some shorts you can change into. You can go into a stall, and I can turn around even, but I just really wanna check out your legs to make sure your skin is okay.” He offered the black basketball shorts to you before continuing.

“I’m a personal trainer and I went to college for this so please don’t think I have any ulterior motives," he affirmed, and that’s when you got a real good look at him.

He was definitely taller than you even though you were sitting on a bathroom counter, he had nice, impeccable work clothes on. Which made you think that he and his friends have possibly headed here from a workplace. Concern was riddled all over his features, inexplicably handsome features at that.

He was built as you could see the biceps flexing when he gestured to the stall for you to go into.

You got a redolence of his scent when you took the basketball shorts that he apparently kept in his car for what reason? You don’t know. You don’t even know this man, and that thought made it all the more strange to you, leaving you speechless as you did what he asked.

What else were you supposed to do? Tell him no?

You were only eighteen and followed the instructions of this older man who said he was your soulmate in which you’d have to verify before actually trusting him, but you trusted his profession and allowed him to help you once you got changed. 

It was ultimately awkward, peeling off your wet jeans in a bathroom stall. The squelching of it made you cringe inside and you mumbled out a little ‘sorry’ to him.

The tension between you two was very thick and you could feel it. You could probably even cut it with a knife and eat it as cake.

Whenever you unlocked the stall, he turned around and let out yet another hiss at the sight of your legs. They were a reddish color now without your jeans covering them and looked like they just radiated off pain.

The hot soup marks came from mid thigh to about your knee and a bit lower on your calf. He seemed to go into a focused mode as he inspected your legs by putting different kinds of ointment on them to help.

That’s whenever you decide to strike up a conversation by slapping yourself in the face.

“Ow, what the hell was that for?” His gruff voice yelped and made your body shiver as you realized he wasn’t lying about being your soulmate, which made things even more awkward because now it was not an accident that you both met.

“Oh, I’m–I’m sorry. I just, uh, wanted to make sure that you were actually my soulmate not lying. I’ve never done this before.” You embarrassingly stated to the handsome man, you could feel your face heating up at the mistake you made. At least you knew he wasn’t lying now though.

That brought you some kind of comfort.

He let out a nice laugh that warmed your insides and not just the warmth from your legs.

“It’s okay.” He comforted you. “I can understand when someone as young as you can get a bit frightened and unsure when someone as old as me randomly tells you that you’re their soulmate.”

“Just to be clear,” he said, “I’m not that old, just twenty-seven.” He locked eyes with you and looked you up and down.

He continued, “Which probably seems like a creep’s age given the fact that they look like you’re even twenty.”

You let out a dry laugh before stating, “Yeah I actually am eighteen, freshly graduated from high school.” That made things all the more weird for some reason.

He let out an exasperated sigh, “I guess fate works in mysterious ways.” He said, and then his expression got more serious as did his rough hands on your legs, which stopped moving, and working the ointment into your skin.

“You know, I would understand if you needed space to process this new predicament because I’ve been waiting for you for years to settle down and now it seems like you necessarily haven’t really given a thought about your soulmate, especially on settling down.” The olive-eyed man stated, and you realized you don’t even know his name yet.

You mumble, “Thanks.” 

Not mentioning his smile that he gave you, the crinkle around his eyes that made your heart flutter, even if you were just fresh out of high school and have no intent of settling down or whatever he meant by that in his words, you sure would do it to see him smile again.

You were too caught up and admiring him that you didn’t realize his hands went just a bit higher than your upper thigh and had found the pain you had caused him on some faithful nights a couple years ago.

Your eyes widened as you shoved his hands away and scooted yourself back further on the public bathroom counter until your back roughly hit the mirror.

“I’m–I’m sorry, dear.” He sputtered and it felt like he actually meant that apology too. “I just got a bit curious,” He murmured.

“I’ve been waiting for you so I could tell you that it would be okay in the end. I would be worried about you and hoped nothing horrible would happen in the end.”

His words somehow make you feel speechless for the second time in that same night and after that you didn’t speak again until you both left the bathroom, which encased you both in silence. 

After your soulmate–referring to him as that felt so perplexing but gratifying at the same time–had left his share of money on the table while you went to tell your manager you were injured on the job and had to leave. With a raised eyebrow, and a glance at the new shorts you wore that showed your naked legs which encased your first-degree burn. Your boss finally allowed you to take your leave early.

However, more unfortunate secrets for you were disclosed when the intense, bitter air encompassed your lower legs, and the ringing of the bell was heard.

"Would you like to come to my place to talk over tea or yours?" Your arms were wrapped around your frame, forgetting your zip up in the car.

The older male probably thought he would meet your parents and then talk with them and you about the situation you both happened to get into. How wrong he was for thinking that.

You cleared your throat, not meeting him in the eyes. "I guess yours is fine," you dryly chuckled before continuing. "My place is right there." You motioned at your beauty of a car that aided in the escape of your abuse.

"Oh, and my name is Y/n L/n. Which you probably knew because of dinner and my name tag." You stated the obvious after realizing your mistake, but you knew it'd be an opening to hear his.

"Hajime Iwaizumi." He sounded curt after your previous admittance, because while you were averting your eyes to gaze at the stars you could almost barely see due to the lights, he was staring at you.

His dark olive-green eyes look in your whole for the umpteenth time that night. Nevertheless, you admitting you were basically homeless and living in your car didn't make him back away from you in any form. It quite actually did the opposite and Iwaizumi wanted nothing more than to shield you from any other harm that might be in your future.

"My place then," You eventually looked over at him and couldn't shake the uncanny look he was giving you. It was something more than friendly, more than the looks you've seen after doing well for customers, more than niceness, something you haven't been given your entire life.

"Okay." You breathlessly confirmed, wanting nothing more to stop the chills that were jumping on your skin and the shaking of your body.

Following Iwaizumi in his expensive looking car was something out of a dream to look at. You realized on the way to his place that you really haven't got a clue about this older man you're following–except his name and that he's bound to you by fate.

The heat from your car was the only thing warming you up at the moment, like it has for many nights before this one too. It was different living in a car than a broken home, but you'd take it over it any day.

Pulling into the driveway, you gawked at his house. It was a very refined home that you had wished you lived in as a kid. Just the sight of it was something you could ever imagine living in.

Getting out of your car, you locked it and followed Iwaizumi across the concrete stepping stones that were placed before the door. He gave you a quick smile before unlocking the dark brown wooden door with a gold knocker.

You copied his actions of whatever he did when you walked in, self-conscious from not performing these when you lived in a house. You took off your shoes carefully and placed them beside his, then copied him when he set his keys down on a hook and you did the same with your tote bag.

He peripherally eyed you as your widened eyes were looking everywhere in his home. In pictures, the floor, the paint job, the lamps that were lit up before he left for dinner, the Christmas tree he put up and decorations scattered around the home.

He smiled at you and admired all the lights, then it faltered when he thought about how you may not have ever experienced something like this.

"Do you prefer a certain type of tea?" Iwaizumi asked, plugging in his electric kettle that he was gifted from his birthday months back.

"Uh, no." You really haven't drunk tea like this before. The sweet tea from working in a fast-food restaurant sure, but not individually bagged tea with different flavors and spices.

You meticulosity watched him arrange everything neatly for the two of you. It was kind of him to invite you here but that's when you felt all the more out of place.

"You can take a seat in the living room or on a bar stool if you'd like." His back was turned as he worked but you could hear the smile in his voice, the gruffness almost gone and replaced with something softer.

You drifted to the living room, in awe of everything that was in here. The soft velvet of the couch, the colorful lights of the green Christmas tree, and the snow globes on shelves of a bookcase were your favorite things.

The couch had plenty of throw pillows that matched the rooms' theme and even a couple throw blankets which undeniably smelled like Iwaizumi.

The thought of coming back to a house like this, to a home like this, made your eyes water and your throat get tight. You tried swallowing it down before Iwaizumi would eventually walk in here, but you were too late.

"I made you a Hōjicha tea, I figured you might like it because it's not really bitter and I got-" He stopped speaking when he sat down next to you and noticed the slight shake of your shoulders.

"Hey, hey, what's the matter?" His large hands took in your smaller ones as he didn't know what else he could do to comfort you within your boundaries.

You took a moment to collect yourself and wiped away the few stray tears, "I just... This is a really nice home. You're-you're just very nice to me."

Hajime's heart literally broke into two, definitely sure you could probably feel that too. It was pain after all, it didn't just have to be physical.

"I'm sorry you had to go through whatever happened to you. I really am. You don't ever have to go through that again nor live in your car anymore if you don't mind living here with me." He comforted, rubbing the pads of his thumbs over your hands and that's when you completely broke down.

You cried into his arms; it was warm and comforting which made things all the more saddening for you. You never got this, never experienced warmth like this, it hurt. After giving yourself a few minutes to calm down, you finally told him about your past up to now.

By the time you were done, he had been so angry for you. You, in his eyes, were a legal adult now but now you carry the trauma that your parents weren't supposed to give to you. You carry the hurt from younger you and the pain that you never shouldn't have dealt with.

Hajime then vowed to never let a single thing cause you pain like this ever again.

He stayed like that with you in his arms, thankful that his soulmate was finally safe and sound with him. He would worry about everything else later but to carefully be heedful about you and your well-being for now.

"You should call out of work for a few. I want your burn to heal and for you to get accustomed to living here and having a new, healthy normal. You can decline anytime but as someone who is bound to you by fate, I feel like this is what is best for now." Iwaizumi let go of you while you thought about what you would do.

You were technically homeless unless you accepted his offer, taking some days off work would hurt but if you lived here, it would be okay. You really haven't taken care of yourself, not having an actual shower in almost two months and resorting to sink baths was getting tiring. Not to mention sleeping in the car every night.

That effectively already decided what you were going to do, "I'll take some days off work. Are you sure you want me to live here? I don't want to intrude." You trailed, knowing he was fine with it but at the same time you had learned that your mere presence can be irritating.

"Of course, I'm sure. Don't even worry about it. You're my soulmate, remember?" He chuckled as he already planned a few things in his head to help you from your trauma if you wanted it. Therapy, coping skills, taking time off work, taking you to a doctor and specially making sure you realize you won't go without.

Your face flushed; this was all so new to you that it was hard to navigate through the fight or flight your mind and body wanted to revert to.

"Here's your tea, it should be cooled down by now." He handed you a glass mug that warms your hands–they've always been so cold, more so when you 'lived' on your own.

"Thank you, this is all so kind of you. I really appreciate it. I also really like your Christmas tree, it's so pretty."

He chuckled as you stared at it, "Thank you, I can put a miniature one in your room before the big day comes." Iwaizumi hoped that the closer you both would become, that it would help you ease into a healthier version of yourself.

He didn't expect you both to be dating immediately because, well, he would rather you talk to him about anything romantic first on your own terms. His mother raised him to be a good man.

"My room? Actually? This all feels so surreal." And bizarre that you were able to get out of a hellhole that you felt like you were going to be trapped in forever. Fate was such a weird thing.

After moving in, not that you barely had much to move in with, a new normal was settled for you and Hajime–he told you not to call him by his last name no matter how much you did. He got his guest bedroom ready, which you were thankful for. You wouldn’t know what to do if you were going to share a bedroom with him when you weren’t even ready. 

Celebrating Christmas was something you also never experienced. Waking up to a good breakfast and presents to open under the Christmas tree and watching the famous movies Hajime always talks about was so new. You loved every bit of it.

Being able to take a warm, bubble filled bath, eat a nice healthy meal, and even be introduced to Iwazumi’s friends at his workplace was so outlandish for you and the situation you had once been in. 

It got awkward sometimes between you and Hajime because after all, you can’t help the inexplicit attraction you feel when it comes to him. And of course, he feels the same but won’t act on it till you’re ready. 

“What was the highest point of your day, dear?” Hajime’s usual name that he called you with such sincerity never failed to send your heart beating wildly in your ribcage. 

You set your fork down, “Probably when I saw your friends again. I was able to talk to Miya’s wife again. She’s very sweet.” You noted, smiling. Your new normal consisted of on your days off from working you’d go with Iwaizumi to work on the days his coworkers would bring their soulmates. You were very fond of Atsumu’s wife. 

The highest and lowest point of your day started as a coping mechanism from your therapist which you both do every day now for the fun of it instead of using it to get you to open up about your past. 

You were the happiest you’ve been in forever and even though you went through literal hell, you definitely wouldn’t change a thing now. Especially with the kind and patient man sitting across from you at the dinner table. The way he looked at you with love and how you reciprocated by your actions instead of words of touches. 

Fate did work in mysterious ways. 

a/n: this shit is so ass im so sorry, i hope you guys enjoyed and even though no one requested, i hope it helps anyone who needs comfort from older iwa <3

[hughungrybear]

Lyrical essay in the On1y One series

The cicadas in that summer were more noisy than in any other year. The lush branches outside the classroom windows couldn't block the sunshine. The breeze blew through the treetops, and the sun shined brightly. They were so young.

from Episode 1: "He's NOT my brother"

He is like a tree, without happiness or sadness. A part of his body will be sleeping in the earth peacefully; a part will be dancing with the wind joyfully; a part will be providing green shade willingly; and a part will be bathing in the sunshine warmly. So quiet and so proud will he be that he won't have to depend on anyone, or search for anything. (Tian's note: Lyrical essays set the mood without being explicit, like placing an arm around his shoulder to subtly show I've already got him on my side.)

from Episode 2: "Getting close is just lips touching"

Deep into the night, all is silent. I don't know which cicada it is, but it suddenly lets out a long cry. Even though it's late summer, I feel a flutter like it's early spring.

from Episode 4: "The glamorous end of the century"

A young man's heart is unpredictable as June weather, heavy rain pouring and clouds overhead, feeling like it will never end. But when the rain stops, it's all bright again with the sun hanging up high.

From Episode 5: "Closed, as the wind rises..."

The gods take away people's fears. Young men's love is intense and passionate. At that moment, the sunset bathed the winding Tamsui River. Stained-glass windows were outlines in a golden hue, and the feather on the clasp had a glowing edge. Time, like this blessing, feels gentle and everlasting.

From Episode 7: "Belonging. Let's live in the dorm together"

A young man's heartbeat is a midsummer wasteland. It's endless and untamed. When the wind blows, the wild grass stretches out to the horizon.

From Episode 11: "Kissing is just two lips touching?"

Grief is boundless as the setting sun. Eastward I go, where wild winds run. Fallen blossoms turn to mud, nurturing spring's new buds.

From Episode 12: "Sprout. The growing pains of starting over"

Bonus not part of the lyrical writing (usually quoted from Wang, either at the beginning or end of the ep):

There are about seven billion people on Earth, if each person's average lifespan is 80 years, you may encounter 1,000 people per day, and you will meet about 292 million people all your life. The probability of two people meeting is 0.00417. If you like him, and he also likes you, you're the only one for each other. That probability is only 0.0000173...

(Tian on the mathematics of finding The On1y One)

In everyone's life, there will be the very moment, a special one on which your mind lingers. That's the most important memory in your life. Every time you think of it, you will have a special feeling in your heart.

(Wang on memories and special moments)

from Episode 1: "He's NOT my brother"

At that moment, I completely forgot what the English teacher had said about the difference between "up to you" and "down to you". It wasn't until later that I realised when Jiang Tian said those words, my world was already upside down. My world was turned upside down.

from Episode 3: "Actually, we can give it a try"

Venus and Mars are in a 180-degree opposition, creating a powerful and intense attraction. The impossible can be possible. A twist, and it's the glamorous end of the century.

from Episode 4: "The glamorous end of the century"

If there's only one person in the world who can understand you, he is the most important. I just know there's a time for everything. I should go a little wild while I'm young. After all, I'll have decades ahead to play it safe. What's the rush?

From Episode 6: "When will the schedule start?"

Isn't there a saying that when you can drop the pretense and comfortably share both troubles and joys, you'll become friends?

(Tian's thought while looking at Wang)

When I feel abandoned by the world and think nothing I do will make a difference, I forget that someone with no place to call home is still trying so hard for me and giving his all to protect me.

(Wang's thought on Tian while the latter is frantically looking for him)

From Episode 7: "Belonging. Let's live in the dorm together"

A girl's shyness is like a tender cherry under the sunlight...16- and 17-year-olds are like fruits in the morning sun, sparkling.

(Passages read by Wang from the Guide to Lyrical Writing)

It's like something straight out of the Guide to Lyrical Writing. All 16- and 17-year-olds are shining.

(Tian reminiscing as he finally empties his suitcase)

From Episode 8: "16- and 17-year-olds are shining"

The book says that 16- and 17-year-olds are shining. As summer wanes, some cicadas never escape the earth, trapped the whole season. Meanwhile, someone is stuck at midsummer's end, waiting for his one and only.

From Episode 9: "Exposing youth fearlessly"

It's precisely these movements and advancements that broke down walls. And because of these so-called boundaries, we get the chance to enter each other's worlds and understand one another. So, do you think I'm invading your world now, or are you invading mine?

From Episode 10: "Thief. Who is about to cross the line?"

[lxvebun]

whisper of the heart pt II

bun's notes: I'm really glad you guys enjoyed the first one so much :3 hopefully you will like this one as well.

synopsis: Genshin boys voicelines about you!

content:Alhaitham/Kazuha/Thoma/Cyno x gender neutral reader (so they/them prns used) in this series, their vision is in tune with their emotions, part one explains it the best. Cyno was incredibly difficult i'm sorry if it sucks shsjsjs. Eng is not my first language so I'm sorry for any mistakes!

Part one

Alhaitham

About y/n:

"y/n and I go a long way back. They are a very intelligent, kind, and creative person. We studied under the same masters. Academic rivals? I wouldn't go as far as to say we were rivals per se, but the occasional competition between who got the highest score on an essay wasn’t out of the ordinary. Who won? Well, our scores wouldn't differ much at all actually. Even to the decimal, we usually got the same. When they asked our masters how such different essays could receive the same score. According to our masters, it seemed I lacked creativity in my writing, as they overdid the creative aspect. The masters words, not mine. Although I’ve read hundreds of books and essays in my life already, none could compare to the way y/n wrote theirs"

About vision:

"Unlike other people, I’d say I have decent control over my emotional elemental power, it at least doesn’t manifest in an obnoxious physical sense. That said, as much as I try to control it, the light of my vision starts to flicker and flutter to the rhythm of my heartbeat. So you can imagine the light show that starts once y/n enters my view *sigh* They think it’s, and I quote, "Adorable"...I suppose that makes it alright"

About relationship:

"Hah, You’re surprised I'm in a relationship? While It’s true that I don’t appear as the most approachable person out there, not that I mind, even I am not immune to love… While there’s no scientific proof out there that soulmates exist, against all logical sense, I’d like to believe y/n and I are."

Thoma

About y/n:

You haven't met y/n? Oh, they’re such a sweetheart! such a kind and inspirational soul. I’m sure you’ve seen them run around Inazuma City or Ritou before. They have the prettiest eyes and the most lovely smile. they run a lot of errands and help with general activities and festivals. In their free time, they usually help me out with housekeeping or acompany me to the market. You’re surprised I'm talking so lovingly of them? Well, of course, I would, they are my partner after all"

About vision:

"sigh I’ve had to switch to steel handle brooms instead of the normal wooden ones. It happened one too many times that I would be sweeping the floors and y/n would come up to me, resulting in small waves of fire to flutter around... Let’s just say, I’m glad my Lord has a hydro vision.

About meet cute!:

y/n and I both share a love for animals, I actually met them while they were nursing a bird back to its strength, the poor thing was still young and completely soaked because of the heavy thunderstorms. Word went around they were caring for it and I decided to take a look and see if they needed help, little did I know that I would be meeting the love of my life. We routinely feed the stray dogs and cats together when we’re both free:)"

Kazuha

About y/n:

" I was able to sense their presence in the wind long before I met them. A fragment of my soulmate in the form of a warm summer breeze, bearing the scent of roses and those familiar mapel leaves. As much as I wanted to follow it, I was still a wanted man after all. I couldn’t just return to Inazuma, no matter how much my heart cried for it.

At that time I started to keep a journal on what I was doing, what I was thinking of, and where in Teyvat I was whenever the wind carried them to me, So I could show it to them when we did finally meet. I never had the chance to finish that journal because our paths crossed sooner than I expected. Apparently, just as the wind carried them to me, it did the same for them. Fate has an interesting way of bringing people together. From the moment I stood face to face with them, I knew who they were and by the sparkle in their eye and the way they immediately rushed into my arms, I can guess it was the same for them. We’ve been wandering together ever since"

About vision:

"I’m well aware of how visions respond to your emotions. I don’t actively try to fight it, In a way, i think it’s quite romantic how my vision responds to seeing y/n by sending a breeze through their hair or twirling flower petals around them. They don’t seem to mind either"

About love language:

"From the moment y/n and I met, we decided to travel together. With every step we took, we got to know each other better, and with every rest under the starry night sky, our relationship grew stronger. They love nature as much as I do, and while I show my adoration for it in poems and music, they show their appreciation in colorful paintings and sketches. If we ever run out of paper on the road, I’m not against them using my arms as a canvas, the same way they allow me to ink love poems onto their skin. That way it doesn’t matter how far apart we are, we wear our love for each other on our skin

Cyno

About y/n:

"y/n? The fact that they are my partner is not something I tell many people, but since we are so close, yes, they are. They joined the forest rangers a while ago, I met them when I dropped of some books from the Akademiya Tighnari needed. And while I gave them to Tighnari, I decided it was a good time to tell my new joke…..Tighnari did not find it amusing, but y/n did. To this day, their laughs are still the sweetest melody I've heard, and I'm fortunate to hear them every day through my excellent jokes.

About vision:

"Please, don’t bring that up, I still feel bad about it. I didn’t know my vision would respond so strongly……fine, the first time y/n and I held hands, I got so...flustered I accidentally send a small shock wave where our hands intertwined. They weren’t hurt, but I still feel bad about it. It hasn’t stopped them from holding me though, I’m glad about that

About TCG:

"y/n and I are both quite the genius invokation tcg players, and the more rounds we play the more....energetic we get. Let's just say that Puspa cafe does have a noise limit....

For my birthday they got me a beautiful commissioned card with artwork of us on it. Having it around has become a good luck charm for me. I always keep it on the very top of my deck.

Thank you for reading angels!

[lokavisi]

So about two nights ago, I had a really solid conversation with Loki. A friend got some cues from him through their pendulum, we were both very confused, and then my wife (who barely gives a shit about the Guy lol) interprets this message so pristinely. It was like getting slapped upside the head when she gave her explanation. So I started free writing to continue the conversation more directly with Loki. There were a few big points made in this conversation.

First, he expressed frustration that, in spite of working with him for 4 years now, I still don't seem to "get" him. Like I keep coming to him to vent about some bullshit that's winding me up, he offers a suggestion to help me unwind, and then I brush it off or forget or just straight up ignore it. So he was like, "I've been telling you the same shit for 4 years now... It feels like you're just fundamentally ignoring all the parts of me that make me, ME." So...naturally I felt really fucking stupid and shitty.

Then he very lovingly affirmed that "this isn't me being facetious or angry or trying to put you down. I'm frustrated and irritated, yes, but surely you do realize by now that I fucking love you and you're stuck with me." This meant a lot to me more so than it might for others because my ADHD comes with mad rejection sensitivity dysphoria. Any time anyone says something that indicates some level of upset at me, my brain catastrophizes and breaks down because "clearly" it means they hate me. (This is basically never the case.) This leads me to the primary nugget of wisdom that came from this conversation.

I realized this whole time (once my wife interpreted the initial message) I was hearing him more clearly than I had in a long time. It was nearly as if a physical person sat next to me speaking. As the conversation was wrapping up, I made a note of this and asked, "Why do I feel l hear you clearest when you're frustrated with me?" We've had plenty of similar conversations, and when I look back at past moments when I simply couldn't deny the messages were coming from outside myself, he usually had some level of frustration with me. But to answer my question, he said:

"Because that's all you wanna hear. That's all you think you deserve. Even when you seek love or comfort and I provide, you don't always fully receive it. I try to be funny to cheer you up and you won't have it, just calling me stupid. You are terrible at receiving input that doesn't put you down or reinforce any negative thoughts you believe about yourself. So stop it. Seriously. Fucking stop believing bad shit about yourself."

He went on to talk about the rune readings I did for a bunch you on here (thanks again for the practice❤️), and how I should be pumping myself up from all the positive feedback I got from it. And we exchanged some jokes and "I love you"'s before calling it a night.

As per usual, I share my story in a giant block of text to remind everyone of what Loki reminded me: to not just take in the messaging that supports a negative view of yourself. Allow yourself to believe that you are the gods' gift to humanity. (I just heard him say, "Seriously. I do it all the time. It works wonders for your self-esteem." 😂❤️) Maybe that verbage doesn't have the greatest connotations, but the point is to think more highly of yourself. Believe in the power and confidence that you possess. Even if it doesn't feel like you have either of these things, fake it til you make it - until you realize they've been here this whole time.

I'm on this struggle bus, too, y'all. We're gonna find ourselves together. Hail Loki ❤️

[deathbxnny]

Hi, this is my first time active on tumblr community, English is not my native language, so please forgive me for spelling mistakes <3

I have an idea for s/o Mitsuri (kny) with Blade, Jing Yuan, Dan Heng and Luocha please. who were dying in their arms and praying for another world, when they were reborn, and were turned into ordinary people with an ordinary past. Before I die, I want the reader to ask: "If we were to be reborn in a more beautiful world where there is no pain and loss, would you be my bride?". I am really looking forward to the reactions of the characters in hsr. Hope this angst idea is good enough-

Pray for you when you go, someone often remembers. When you return when someone is waiting. Pray for you to become the best memories in the world. Wishing you a life filled with love and happiness. I really appreciate you for the quality articles <3 Take care of yourself and I love you so much. Sorry for writing so long. (Sorry for the second post, I realized I forgot to add the character's name, so sorry =( )

-----♡

A/N: I know exactly what scene you are referring to here and I'll never recover from it tbh... Also thank you so much for your kind words and for the request! I hope this is okay!<33

Content: Potential Spoilers for kny! (?), Reader dies, hurt/no comfort (kinda), established relationships, angst, mentions of fatal injury, just pain

Reader has no set pronouns! (Though they do refer to themselves as a "Bride" per the request, but that's not outright mentioned here.)

((Not fully proofread))

-----♡

》Jing Yuan

Jing Yuan's usual calm and playful facade drops instantly, when he has your bloody and near lifeless form laying in his arms. He holds you close, knowing that your end is near and that there is nothing he can do now. He tries to still appear so calm and collected like he always is, but it's hard, when the love of his life is dying.

And it becomes even harder, when he hears you utter those heartbreaking words, as you look up at him with pleading, weak eyes. He can't bring himself to speak at first, mainly because he wants to believe that there is still some hope left in saving you. But he is no fool. He knows, that you are doomed.

And so he nods, promising you that he will, his arms holding onto you tighter, when the last breath escaped your lungs and you smile in satisfaction at him, already looking forward to seeing him again.

"Ofcourse, my love... I'll wait eons for your return, if I have to."

-----♡

》Blade

He nearly loses his composure at the sight of you, the blinding rage of the loss he felt in his heart making him nearly dip completely into insanity. Yet he keeps it at bay for a moment, just to hold you in his arms. He's trembling and for once in a very long time, he feels afraid and lost.

Your words make his already broken soul break even harder, burn up into fine ash, until it gets blown away by the wind and leaves a gaping hole in his existence behind. He can't process them at first, wanting to be stubborn even in the face of your inevitable doom. He doesn't want to show, how much this weakened him, just to spite the grim reaper himself.

And yet, it all fails, when he just let's out a pitiful, broken sigh and agrees in pained defeat, just to give you your peace. You smile at him, as the last of your life fades out, your eyes looking right through him. Only then, does he allow himself to break completely.

"Very well... but don't keep me waiting for long... I beg of you."

-----♡

》Dan Heng

Dan Heng didn't know, how you two got to this point. It shouldn't have happened. He should've protected you. And yet, you protected him from the attack. You were bleeding out, your life draining from you faster than he could stop it. Once more, a person he loved dearly was slipping through his fingers and there was nothing he could do.

He felt like a failure, like all of this was his fault. He should've died instead. Not you. And that thought gets only solidified by your heartbreaking, hopeful words. You didn't deserve this fate. You deserved someone much better than him.

And yet, he selfishly agrees to your final wish to bring you satisfaction. Your smile made it worth it, the relief in your eyes before they were drained of their beautiful spark and dulled making all the heartache disappear for only just a moment. Left behind was the emptiness Dan Heng felt, as all he could do was stare down at you in defeat, his heart broken once more. And for good, this time.

"For you, I will do anything, my love. So I'll see you then..."

-----♡

》Luocha

Luocha didn't want to believe, that it was over. That there was nothing he could do for you. He tried everything he could. He was a doctor, surely he could save you from this simple injury, right? But it was no use. You knew it. He knew it. And yet, he still denied it to the bitter end, until you gently grabbed ahold of his arm and just shook your head. A signal, that it was truly over.

And for once, he breaks down, holding you close, begging you not to disappear and yet all you could do was chuckle and utter your last wish for him. It was a promise, that eventually, you'd return to him. You'd find eachother in the next life, you were sure of it.

He was reluctant, still so stubborn and heartbroken to accept your doom, until he did. His soul died with you, when you took your last breath, he swore it. And he blamed himself, for not being able to save you, when he surely should've been able to.

"I'll find you in the in next life and the one after that one too, my dear... I promise you that."

-----♡

A/N: I hope this was alright! It was honestly heartbreaking to write... also thank you for the request!<33

[viaviavie]

Alright. I feel bad for dropping that angst in you inbox. Hope this makes up for it somewhat.

The Prefect and Ace have been acting weird lately. They‘ve been lost in thought and constantly fighting their own attention span. During lunch for example, Yuu didn’t notice Grim chomping down a majority of their food, and Ace didn’t even try to pick a fight with a classmates that bumped into their table.

It comes to the point where the other freshman pick up on their weird behavior and formulate a plan to get the two out of their slump.

Only once the Prefect and Ace split off from the group, to do who knows what, (Grim is of the convinced that they are Dating. The others have their doubts. („Truly? I can understand from where you come from but the probability of Ace confessing his feelings is nigh impossible“ „He‘d rather be collared than to admit he cares.“ „But why else would they constantly sneak off just the two of them?“)), does the rest start their master plan.

Grim and Deuce are tasked with keeping watch of the lovebirds Duo. They‘re supposed to alert the others if it looks like they are returning to Ramshackle and if possible get them others more time to prepare.

Jack was responsible for getting snacks and drinks organized. (Epel contributed some of his familys apple juice)

Ortho was tasked with organizing entertainment. With his vast knowledge of movies, games and stories this assignment was a no brainer.

Epel and Sebek took it upon themselves to rearrange the entire lobby of Ramshackle so that all of them could comfortably hang out.

By the time Ace, Deuce, Grim and Yuu returned to Ramshackle they were met with a Lobby that looked nothing like it did that same morning.

All of the furniture was moved to the walls to create space in the center of the room where a bunch of mattresses were laid out on the floor. A bit to the side you could see Ortho setting up a projector to watch movie with or Sebek throwing a whole armload of pillows and Duvets from the different dorms onto the mattress floor.

„What’s all of this for?“ asked the prefect seemingly only now regaining conscious thought. „What does it look like? It’s a surprise party. I couldn’t possibly let my Henchman and their friend be mopey all the time. That wouldn’t reflect well on my ability as a great mage.“

„That’s all well and good but curfew is soon and I at least don’t have permission from mister ‘be in bed on time or paint the roses‘ so all of this was kind of useless.“ Ace adds, very useful as per usual.

„You may not have gotten permission yourself, but we got that covered have some faith. Some more easily than others. Leopna just waved Jack off and told him to not get himself killed, Idia simply wished Ortho luck and Lillia basically threw Sebek at us once he got wind of what we were planning.“ Epel explained.

Before Ace or Yuu were able to fully process what was going on, Deuce threw his arms over their shoulders and dragged them onto the mattress fort.

As the rest settled around them and started bickering about what kind of movie they were going to watch, did the Duo start to loosen up a little. Suddenly many of their worries about how they were going to deal with the problems the future would bring were melting away, surrounded by the warmth of their friends.

in reference to this fic

WE LOVE FIRST YEAR BONDING IN THIS HOUSEHOLD !!!

I swear, Grim knows that you held some form of affection for Ace. Ever since Grim noticed that you tend to stare at Ace a little bit longer than anyone else, take care of him more, got that little longing look in your eyes— It's so damn obvious you see Ace as something more than a friend, but Grim doesn't think you will ever confess.

Ace, on the other hand, Grim gets super super annoyed with how protective Ace gets. Wherever Prefect goes, Ace seems to follow ever since the end of Book 4. And since when does Ace share a bed with Prefect?! Grim has complained about this to Deuce so many times, but the poor boy is just as oblivious and thinks its all platonic.

Imagine that this little surprise happens before Book 7, maybe? Ace and Prefect are dreading what's to come, and maybe Prefect is lacking some confidence in surviving this loop. Prefect must've died in the same spot during the overblot, and can't figure out the answer to a dream. Ace's probably losing his mind because he knows he can't do a thing to help Prefect during the overblot.

Maybe when Book 7 is resolved, I may consider the idea of the duo telling the truth for the final loop. Perhaps this get-together happens, but this time, Ace and the Prefect got their heads together and decided that maybe this time, nothing is going to go wrong. They need everyone's help, and perhaps that was the answer this entire time (the power of friendship!)

Sebek is initially taken aback and distraught by the idea of Malleus overblotting, but when he takes the time to reflect on how genuinely tired the Prefect looks, he steels himself to prepare for the worst. When it slips that the Prefect has been dying constantly in the dream realm, however, Sebek does feel a lot of responsibility to keep Prefect safe this time.

Epel considers telling Vil, but he doesn't for your sake. You do not know how much the timeline will change if anyone else finds out about this, and Epel doesn't want to betray that trust. He worries a lot for you though, especially after everything you did to help him in Book 5.

Ortho— I lowkey want to integrate him into the time loop theory. I wanna say that Ortho has felt some time-distortion every reset. He senses that something's wrong every time, but can never pinpoint why. Once the truth comes out, everything finally makes sense. He would tell the duo to place some trust in him to ensure that this loop will lead to a good ending.

Goodness, Deuce is the most relieved. He finally gets some answers and it does make him tear up, thinking about how much pain they both went through, but also that he is trusted enough to cooperate with the plan. He doesn't hold anything against them for keeping it to themselves, and is just there to remind them that they can depend on him.

But ugh, imagine Ace and the Prefect so afraid yet so hopeful for what was to come this time. Perhaps this is the first timeline they have all actively worked together for a good ending. Even if it doesn't turn out correct, at least one of them can carry on with the memory knowing that the first years will always have their back.

[gaybananabread]

Call me crazy (because I am), but the pile of Spiderverse stuff isn't tall enough. >w< If you're up for my nonsense, and it's available:

I'm thinking #4 (Hide and Seek) with either Miguel or Doc Ock as the ler and our favorite Spider-Gang as lees.

I'm biased, but I love #6 (Cuddles) with Gwen and Hobie. Lee!Gwen is my favorite, but a little close-combat tickle fight would be adorable.

#16 (Cackle) with Gwen as Lee, possibly a little comfort with her being embarrassed of her laugh. Miles obviously adores her laugh, and Hobie just likes making her happy.

#19 (Secret), How about a very funny secret identity reveal? >w< Miles gets some tickles from one or both of his parents, and through a folly of your choice (a minor injury, noticing his costume, or god forbid, him losing control of his powers) they realize that he's Spiderman.

#25 (New Discovery) Somewhere between the two movies, Gwen has been hanging around Hobie more and suddenly finds out that he's ticklish. Pavitr does not bail him out in the slightest.

I am very sorry. >w< I hope you have fun this year!

~Panda/Black Feathers

TickleTober Day 25 - New Discovery

~I've loved writing all your requests! These were so much fun; I'm gonna miss 'em. I can see Pav just tossing Hobie to the wolves with no remorse. Thank you for requesting, and I hope you Enjoy!~

Lee: Hobie

Ler: Gwen (Pav instigates)

Summary: Gwen and Hobie's friendship is still relatively fresh, though it's still strong. Pavitr gets tired of their shenanigans and decides to help Gwen discover one of his favorite Hobie fun-facts.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don't like that, scroll away!!

“H-hey, wait up!”

“Catch up, small fry!”

Gwen laughed as she chased after her newfound friend, feeling the wind rush through the breathable fabric of her spider suit. She'd been growing closer and closer to the punk, spending a decent amount of her free time in his amazingly chaotic dimension.

“No fair! You’ve got a better swing, you bean pole!” Gwen did a small flip out of her next swing, narrowly avoiding a street sign she almost hadn’t seen. Hobie laughed ahead of her, making the girl blush.

After six minutes of intense competition, the pair made it back to Hobie’s houseboat. Pavitr was already there, snacking on some of Hobie’s chocolates as he waited for them.

“Took you two long enough! Did you two argue again?” Pav chuckled, popping one of the orange cream chocolates in his mouth before Hobie could stop him.

“OI! Ge’ yer own sweets, ya moocher!” With an indignant squawk, Hobie snatched the rest of his chocolates back. As per usual, Pav had eaten all of the fruity ones. That boy was gonna pay…

“But yours are always so good! The ones from Gwen’s universe just aren’t the same,” he whined, trying to use his puppy-dog eyes to win himself a way out of trouble. The punk just rolled his eyes before placing the chocolate in the top of his pantry; to specify, his pantry whose ceiling wasn’t wide enough to climb on.

“Mean.” Pav’s lip jutted out in a pout, making Gwen giggle. She’d gotten closer to Pavitr first, but she was really warming up to Hobie. They were both amazing people, helping her to feel less alone.

“Maybe, but you deserve it.” Gwen teased the shorter teen, tasing his side. Pav jumped at the sudden feeling, giggling and batting at her hand.

“Hey! Noho need for such cruelty!”

Hobie snorted at Pav’s dramatics, using the boy’s shoulder as an armrest. “‘S not cruel, Pavi. Yer just too ticklish.”

“Says you! You are the mo- MMPH!” A hand over his mouth cut the shortest teen off, Hobie silencing him with a chuckle. The two had a playful tousle as Gwen tried to figure out what to do next. They’d just planned a hang-out, but not what they’d be doing.

“How about we watch a movie?” She wedged herself between the two bickering boys, stopping their playful argument from progressing any further. “Hobie can make us popcorn.”

…

After some light complaints from Hobie and a small debate over what to watch, the three had cuddled up on Hobie’s couch with a bowl of popcorn and some drinks. They were watching Spookley the Square Pumpkin for the fun of it.

As the three cartoon spiders moved across the screen, Hobie huffed. “I don’ see why they had to be such dicks abou’ the crown. Could’a jus’ shared it from the get-go.”

“It’s a kid’s movie, Hobie. Nobody ever does what they’re supposed to at first, or there wouldn’t be any plot.” Gwen leaned over to nudge his shoulder, sandwiched between the two teens.

“Hush. ‘M allowed to complain.” Hobie crossed his arms with a huff, sinking into the couch beside her. Before he could comment on the near impossibility of a naturally-grown square pumpkin, the lanky teen felt nails softly spidering up the back of his neck.

“Aww, c’mon! The spiders just wanted some-” Gwen was cut off by a strangled little squeal from Hobie. His dark cheeks burned as he shied away from her touch, smacking her hand away.

“Uh…what was that?” The playful look in Gwen's eyes gained a curious edge – one that shook Hobie to his core. Shit…

“Nothin’, don' worry ‘bout it.” He shoved at her face, his large hand covering her mouth before she could ask any more questions.

“Mmph- hey! What is with you and covering other people's mouths?” Gwen giggled before scooting closer, forcing herself farther into his personal space. The lanky teen tried shoving again, but she just pushed his hands away.

“Maybe ‘cuz you lot ‘re a bunch’a- GRK!” Hobie jerked as she squeezed his side, one hand flying to cover his mouth as the other grabbed her wrist. “Kn-knock ihit off, Gwendy…”

“Why should she? Is someone perhaps afraid of our new friend pointing out that he-”

“SHUT UP, PAV!”

The fluffy-haired boy narrowed his eyes at Hobie, tired of his snippiness. They both knew it was all in good fun, but he still wanted revenge.

“Gwen, go for his hips. I will go grab us some drinks for later.” Pav climbed off the couch, Hobie gaping at him as he sauntered off to the kitchen.

That cheeky little-

“ACK! SH-SHIHIHIHIT! GWEHEHEN!” Hobie jolted as he felt two sets of nimble fingers drilling into his hips. Pav was going to die later; for the moment, Hobie had bigger problems.

“I can't believe you're ticklish! Like, super ticklish!” Gwen seemed giddy at that fact, squeezing and scribbling all around Hobie’s sensitive hips. “You don't seem it, but… Well, wow!”

“S-STOHOHOP AHACTIN’ LIHIKE ‘M AHA CIRCUHUS AHAHACT!” Hobie bucked and thrashed beneath her touch, trying to knock the girl off him. She held strong, however, refusing to let him get away so easily.

“I will when you stop being entertaining,” Gwen quipped, not letting up for a second. Hobie was an easy-going guy with his friends, but he rarely ever lost himself like he was in that moment.

Gwen eased up a bit, moving both hands up to his sides. She wanted to tickle him, not push his boundaries.

“How long were you gonna keep this from me, huh? Friends are supposed to trust each other.” The girl smiled as she inched one hand towards his navel, making the punk kick and snort.

“I-ihihihit’s noho- *snort* Shuhu’ ihihit!” Hobie's loud laughs simmered down to bass-sounding giggles, the occasional snort slipping in with his breaths.

“Wow. What a clear, coherent answer.” Gwen rolled her eyes fondly as she continued to tickle him, noting the near complete lack of struggling. Sure, he was a squirmy mess, but he wasn't really trying to fend her off anymore.

“Hobs…do you like this?”

Even though her tone was nothing but innocently curious, Hobie's cheeks burned. He was not a self-conscious guy, but when something so close to his heart was questioned… Yeah, it didn't feel good.

“I-Ihihi- ihit’s nohohohot-” Hobie struggled to find the right words, struggling through his giggles. Noticing his sudden discomfort, she softened her tone considerably.

“Hey, I'm not judging. I like it too, Hobie. Just a question.” Gwen slowed her touch to a near-stop, just barely ghosting her fingers across his ribs. “You don't have to answer if you don't want to.”

“N-nohoho, it's… I-I lihike it. Both wahahays.” Hobie broke eye contact as he answered her, a bit afraid of her response. She was the first person besides Pav and his few close friends that he'd told.

“Good to know. Which do you prefer right now? Or none, if that's what you want.” Gwen’s voice was soft with fond amusement, her eyes glittering. She was happy to have found another teen who enjoyed tickling the way she did.

“Mmhmhmph…gehettin’ ‘em.” Hobie leaned his head on her shoulder, hoping she'd leave it at that and not make him ask for anything else.

Gwen got the message and, thankfully, decided to have mercy.

“You got it, Hobs.” Gwen's fingers trailed up and down his sides and ribs, her fingers occasionally zipping down to skitter across his belly.

She worked methodically, pulling as many different types and volumes of giggles and laughs from the other teen. She was enjoying herself, doing whatever felt right and made them both smile.

Hobie stood strong and took the tickles for about seven minutes, just laughing his cares away. When he finally did reach his limit, he weakly smacked at her hands.

Gwen got the message, switching from tickles to back massages to try and calm him down. “Wohow, Hobie. You lasted, like, way longer than I ever could.”

“Sh-shuhuhush…” Hobie just blushed and hid his face in her neck, catching his breath. She was stupidly good at tickling… He'd have to remember that.

“Okay, you two! I made smoothies!” Pav’s cheery voice filtered in from the kitchen, making Hobie growl. That little shit had gotten him into the whole mess…

“Comin’, Pav.” Hobie glanced up at Gwen, their eyes meeting in a silent understanding.

That smug little goofball needs to be taken down a peg.

[sinsinsininning]

A little bit softer

Chapter 5

Eustass Kid x crewmate!fem!Reader

TW: some street harassment from an unnamed man, cursing, allusion to prev smut, very brief descriptions of sexual harassment, drinking

A/N: this one was loooooooong, sorry I’ve been struggling with work and I can’t work on this as much as I’d like too

~~~~~~

It was nothing. You thought the moment you woke up.

It was nothing. Over and over in your mind as you rolled out of bed.

It only happened because you were tired. You almost said it out loud while getting dressed, your mumbling earned you a look from House.

Because you couldn’t think of anyone else. You felt like a zombie trudging to the galley for coffee and your daily assignments.

And you couldn’t think of anyone else, because you were tired.

You rubbed your eyes and tried to not think, as Killer greeted you, the coffee still brewing.

The rest of the morning crew were giggling and chatting away, you kinda wanted to shoot one of them out of jealousy. Instead you tucked into the plate of eggs and fruit Killer placed in front of you.

He paused at your tired expression, but went back to cooking. Today would be long, you decided.

It’s my punishment for last night. You shook your head quickly to clear your mind. A few crew mates nudged each other, grinning.

“Hey sunshine,” Hop called out. “You look a little rough, long night?” Quincy giggled, you sent them both a withering glare.

“Maybe if you hadn’t chipped your sword in 5 different spots I wouldn’t have been up all night.” You grouched, she blushed and clammed up. You turned to Quincy. “Stop giggling, how the fuck did you manage to break the bolt on your gun?”

“Hee~ it’s a mystery.” She winked.

“You’re a menace.” You said, stuffing more eggs in your mouth. Killer places a mug of coffee in front of you and clears his throat, gaining everyone’s attention.

“We won’t be docking until a little past noon, if everyone gets their tasks done before that then you can do whatever you want on shore,” He paused for the usual cheers, being morning crew on shore days was the best. Afternoon crew had to do supply runs and maintenance, but at least they got to sleep in. “Now finish eating and I’ll give you an assignment.”

You don’t take your time, hoping to rush through whatever cleaning you have to do and get a nap in before docking. After rinsing your dish and chugging your coffee, you wait in front of Killer.

“You only got two chores today, mopping the hallways and helping Wire with some charting.” Killer pauses for a moment. “After that try to get some close range target practice in before going on shore. Captain wants everyone in top shape.”

You almost groan, charting maps with Wire and sharp shooting practice would easily take the full morning, if not the whole day. Maybe you can get Wire to have mercy on you, doubtful though, he’s way too passionate about maps. Killer dismisses you and you refill your mug before heading out to mop.

The hallways weren’t difficult to mop per se, but they were long and winding, plus there was frequent foot traffic to account for. Too many people walking around leads to slipping, so it was best to mop a section then go back with a towel to dry it then rinse and repeat. Your caffeine buzz gave you a burst of energy and it only took you an hour to get it done.

Now you just had to help Wire and you could nap, though you weren’t sure how you could help with charting it wasn’t your area of expertise.

Still, it was an order from Killer so you met with your tallest crew mate on the deck. There were several crew mates milling about, either working on chores or sparring. Wire was already sitting, pencil moving briskly with a smile on his face.

“You’re literally the cutest,” You said as you sat down. “Seriously I could eat you up.” He looked up at you with his heavy eyes and smiled again.

“Oh sweetie I doubt you have the appetite.” He said demurely, before the both of you burst out with laughter. Wire was easily the biggest flirt on the crew, besides you of course. He took a moment to observe you as you sat, noticing your eye bags and red sclera. “You look like you had a long night. You got a special someone I don’t know about?”

“Ha! Yeah right,” You snort, taking a sip of your now cold coffee. “You’d be the first to know if I had a new beau.”

“Oh I better be.” Part of you worried he’d start making assumptions again, but he spared you instead rifling through some papers.

“So what do you need me for? I’m not exactly a navigator.” You ask, he smiles again.

“True, but charting isn’t just marking a path on a map, it also involves some local intel.”

“Oh? How can I help then?”

“Well you know how Captain has changed course to go to the West Blue yes?”

“Uh- yeah I guess.” You feel an anxious pit in your stomach.

“Well we’re going after a specific crew, have you heard of a Captain Badger?” He asked, pulling out an old faded bounty, the picture was grainy but you’d recognize that face anywhere.

“Ummm.” You grabbed the paper, playing up your pause. “Yeah I think I have.” Wire seemed excited.

“Wonderful! Do you know where he operates out of? Or what his crew name and size is?”

You knew, but getting the words out was difficult. You didn’t think Kid had been serious about going and killer you former captain. Now you’d have to explain you past to everyone, who knows how they’d react. They’d think you were a coward. Or worse they’d pity you.

“Pretty sure he’s got a smaller crew, like less than 20 people. And I uh- I don’t remember his crew name, it was something like Wave or Tide Pirates.” You offer with a sheepish grin and a shrug, Wire tilted his head then started writing again. “Did the Captain say why he was go after him?”

“He said he wants him dead and that’d I’d know more when I need to know more.” Wire grinned. “Which is what he usually says so chances are this guy insulted him once like a year ago and now we’re gonna kill him.” He chuckled, you tried to join in but it sounded watery.

“We-Well if you don’t need anything else-”

“Oh, yes do you know where he operates out of? Does he have a base camp or anything?” Wired asked.

He wishes, you thought wryly.

“Hmmm, I think he stays around Toroa. That’s all I can remember.” You laugh shakily again and dismiss yourself. Wire frowns, he’d rather have you here while he finished the map to answer any other questions. But you seemed so unlike yourself today, he hoped you went and rested a bit.

Part of you wanted to scream, Kid was seriously delaying their journey just to go kill some guy he’s never even met. You laid back down on your bunk, Hip was getting dressed while Emma brushed her hair.

“Morning, Doll.” Emma smiled at you, you grunted out a greeting and pulled the blanket over your head. “Oooff you alright?”

“She got in late last night,” Hip answered for you, fixing her lipstick. “Let her get some sleep before we dock.” She flicked the lights off.

“Hip I could kiss you right now.” You groaned out, grateful to your friend. The two opened the door to leave, Hip poked her head back in.

“You’d ruin my lipstick~” She purred dramatically.

“Tragic, how will I ever recover?” You chuckled dryly, taking the time now to remove your outer clothes before your nap. You ended up in your underwear and a baggy top.

“Have sweet dreams love!” Hip called out, Emma slammed the door shut probably sick of your jokes.

You didn’t sleep deeply, constantly tossing and turning, you tried not to think about Kid or why he was doing all of this. It was so out of nowhere, a month ago you barely even spoke.

Eventually you settle enough to dream of nothing, of course that didn’t last long and soon enough someone was pounding on your bunk door. You jolted awake, worried there was a fight or something, and grabbed one of the many knives off the wall before yanking the door open.

Kid seemed surprised to be on the business end of your knife, you stared at each other for a bit before he started laughing. You flushed and lowered the blade with a muttered apology.

“Shit you’re a fucking sight!” He cackled, leaning against the doorway. His eyes drag up and down your form and you feel like bursting into flame when he gives a low whistle. “What’s with the get up? You trying a new look?”

You slam the door shut and go to put some clothes on, you wouldn’t bother to put clothes on if the ship was under attack. But you didn’t really feel like talking to your captain in your undergarments. At least you’d worn boxers so there was a little bit of coverage.

Kid shoved the door open as you picked up some clothes.

“Oi could’ve broken my nose!”

“Why were you pounding on my door like that?” You asked trying to yank your pants on. “Thought we were under siege or there was a fire!” He laughs again.

“Well nice to know you’re always ready for a fight!” He’s grinning and if you weren’t so embarrassed you’d have found the situation funny too. “Anyways we just docked and you weren’t on deck so I came to grab ya.”

“Thanks, Boss.” She buckle your belt, making sure it sat well on your hips before pulling your tank top on. His eyes were still watching you, you felt warm again. “Sorry, I was sleeping, didn’t hear the call on the comms.” He grinned again.

“Yeah? You were up late last night.” He didn’t say it like a question, but you still answered like it was.

“Yup weapon repair took longer than expected. Didn’t finish until late.” You yank on your boots now, he’s back to leaning on the doorframe.

“I know.” His smile was wide and at that moment you felt exposed again.

“Huh?”

“I was up and saw your dinner still in the fridge.” He shrugged. “Figured you weren’t done yet.” He didn’t reveal more, just in case you suspected it was him outside the showers last night. You feel a little bit better now.

“Yup, like I said. Took a while, I ate eventually before bed.” You kept it short, hopefully you seemed relaxed. Probably not. “You need anything else?”

He frowned at the dismissive tone, but didn’t comment just walked out towards the deck, leaving the door wide open. You sighed, glad he was gone. That conversation could’ve been much worse, you count it as a victory.

Heat popped his head in as you finished getting ready, eyes suspicious.

“You alright? Just saw Kid walk out of here like he was pissed.”

“I’m good, he woke me up from my nap and I kinda held a knife at him.” You tie your hair back away from you face with a grin.

“Woah why’d you threaten him?” He looked impressed.

“He scared me! I thought we were under attack so I was just prepared for an enemy to be at my door!” You laughed while trying to defend yourself. “I’m sure he’s pretty pissed about it. Surprised he didn’t revoke my shore leave.”

“Nah there’s no way he’d be mad at you.” Heat walked with you to the deck. “He’s probably into that typa shit.” You make a face and cover your ears as he opens the door for you, cackling at your blush.

“I don’t need to know your theories, thank you!” The deck is mostly empty, just a few people who are on duty milling about. Killer and Kid are next to the exit, talking together with Wire.

Heat walks with you to the exit, you have no plans at shore but it’s mid afternoon so there’s plenty to do. You pass by Kid without looking at him, hoping to escape without an incident. Wire waves you over and you feel like crying.

“I’ll catch up with you,” You let Heat go on without you. “Let’s meet for drinks in an hour. Same spot as last time, yeah?” He gives you a thumbs up and climbs down. You walk over to the group and nod your greeting, eyes on Wire.

“I was just letting Captain and Killer know, I’ve finished charting our course!” Wire was lit up, lidded eyes shut as he smiled and swayed. “Thank you for the help, by the way.” Kid looked bored and Killer looked….well like Killer.

“Of course, not a problem.” You desperately want to leave right now, but with 3 high ranking crew mates you knew better than to go without being properly dismissed.

“If you remember anything else, let me know! I’m hoping to figure out his crew’s name.” Wire hummed distractedly. “Maybe I can find a more recent bounty with it.”

Killer cocks his head to the side, an exaggerated confusion, while Kid just flat out gapes at you. Your smile is wobbly and you hope they don’t ask you about it. You just didn’t want more people knowing about your old captain, it’d be too much of a hassle.

“I think it may be a good idea for you and Wire to have a session together.” Killer said slowly, Kid opened his mouth but a nudge from his first mate kept him quiet. “You’ve been here for months, it’d be good for you to have a check up.”

“Oh?” Wire perked up, he knelt down so he was a little closer to your height, something he did when a sensitive moment popped up. “You know, I didn’t realize it, but we never had an official talk before have we?”

“I guess not,” You cringed, the idea of having a sorta-kinda therapy session didn’t interest you at all. “I don’t think it’s necessary.” Wire waves at you are with a smile.

“Nonsense! It’s part of my duties, plus it couldn’t hurt.” Wire patted you gently.

“So it’s decided,” Killer said. “You two make a plan for it, if there’s a problem, let me know.” He said that last part to you, you could feel it.

“Wonderful!” Wire smiled and you tried to mimic him, but it definitely looked like a scowl. Kid was frowning now as you were finally dismissed and practically ran off the boat.

“I’m getting a drink.” Kid announced, feeling pissy as he followed slowly after you. He pretended he didn’t hear Wire’s little chuckles.

You had a sizable lead on him by the time he actually dismounted, but he kept a close eye on you as you darted from stall to stall in the marketplace. It was a rare luxury to be able to choose from such a variety of stores, he found himself taking his time at certain spots. His bounty proceeds him so most places gave him a hefty discount, he grinned as he browsed a stall full of niche tools.

He hadn’t meant to get distracted from you, but he was conversing with the elderly man at the stall about which item would be the best suited for his style of work when a commotion from on the other side of the crowd started up. A man’s voice could be heard, cocky and forward. Kid could make out something about a date.

“Oh boy, looks like another young man is causing trouble.” The old man said tiredly.

“Huh?” Kid tried to peer over the crowd but the commotion was around a bend, obscuring his view.

“There’s a lot of very…insistent men around here.”

“Insistent? What the fuck does that mean.” The old man curled his lip at the cursing, but Kid was too busy being nosey to notice.

“You know, insistent…with the ladies. Especially in such a crowded place.” The man shrugged as Kid turned to sneer at him. “Try not to let it disturb your browsing. It’s a minor nuisance.”

“So you don’t try to stop it?” Kid felt himself getting angry. “Even though you know it’s a problem?”

“Not really, it really can’t be helped, especially with so many new, beautiful women coming though every day. The boys will grow out of it eventually.” The man chuckled, like he thought Kid would laugh too.

The red head snarled and shoved his way back onto the streets, easily knocking several people out of his path. He came upon the scene and nearly exploded.

Of course it was you giving him a damn head ache.

You were facing a tall, spindling young man. His face pinched in a frown as he tried to grab your arm again. You yanked your arm back, lips curled back in a sneer.

“Fuck off, I said I’m not interested.” You told the man, the crowd continued moving around you both as if they didn’t even notice. The man tried to step closer, you put your hand on your holstered knife, he paused.

“Come on now, a pretty thing like you ain’t gotta carry a knife.” You caught sight of Kid, relief flooding your face, until he started grinning.

“Nah,” Kid interrupted, stepping behind the guy. The scrawny man turned to glare at him but went pale when they made eye contact. “Pretty thing like her ‘as gotta carry a knife. Too many little shits out there tryin to be creeps ya know?” He grinned down at the guy, then walked to stand by you nudging you with his elbow.

“I think you should stab him.” Kid continued, eyes locked on you.

“Wait a min-“ The man starts.

“Unlike some people I actually try to keep a low profile on shore.” You ignore the man, glaring up at your captain. “Let’s just leave.” You move to walk off, but Kid grabs you by the belt loop, gently halting you.

“Who? Me?” He laughs, the crowd is thinning out as they sense his threatening presence. “Did you even tell him you were a pirate?” You shrugged, peering up at him now.

Oh shit, he wanted to show off for you.

“Woah a pirate?” The man, who Kid had honestly forgotten about, shouted. “No way you’re fucking lying!” Kid rolls his eyes.

“Fuck you’re annoying,” He drawls and raises his hand to the Bowie knife strapped across his chest. “I’m sick of hearing you talk. If she won’t kill ya, I sure as fuck will.” The man jumps back, knocking into someone, Kid starts to move towards him but your hand on his arm stops him.

That’s right, I’m supposed to make her not scared of me.

His pause gives the creep enough to run off blubbering and the crowd of people come forward to occupy his now empty place. Kid nervously glances down at you, wondering how much he set your relationship back. He was met with your bored stare.

“Seriously? We’ve been on shore for what? And hour?”

“Hey don’t lecture me, I’m the captain I’ll do whatever the fuck I want.” He grumbled, but allowed you to lead him down the street. Your hand was still on his arm, the one not covered by his coat, and the feeling makes him flush.

“You are, but everyone’s gonna be pissed if we have to deal with Marines already.” You press into his arm now to direct him down a smaller path. It’s less crowded so you let go of him and give a little space, he tries not to yank you back to him.

“Whatever, can’t believe you let that fucker live.” He knew he should leave it alone and just be glad you didn’t run scared from him. But he couldn’t help poking at that bear.

“If I killed every creep that flirts with me, I’d be in jail.” You chuckle a little, one look at your captain though and he looks pissed.

“Who the fuck is flirting with you all the time?” He barks and you bristle.

Oops.

He realized now it kinda sounded like he didn’t think you were attractive enough to be flirted with.

“So two seconds ago you were calling me pretty. Now I’m not?” You tried not to feel insulted but… it stung a little. You don’t know why, but you didn’t like the thought that Kid found you unattractive. It’s nothing.

“That’s not what I meant!” He tried to argue, but you spotted Heat waiting outside a bar ahead. So you took the easy way out and sped up to a jog. Kid kept his pace, but followed after you, desperate to make his case.

“Heat!” You called out and hugged your friend.

“Took ya long enough,” The stitched man smiled, then did a double take as Kid trailed behind you. “Hey captain. What’re you doing here?”

“We ran into each other,” You said dismissively, pulling Heat to the bar’s entrance. “Do they have food? I’m fucking starving.”

“Yeah I think so.” Heat glanced back to watch Kid follow you both in. “He good?” He asked you in a hushed tone as you sat down at a booth in the corner. Heat stood glancing between the two of you.

“Probably?” You shrugged. “There was a guy I got into it with, he’s probably pissed I didn’t kill him.”

Heat slid into the bench opposite from you, as Kid sat at the bar. The place wasn’t busy, but late afternoon would fade away into night soon and it’d be packed. The bartender served Kid then came over to get your order.

“Hey I remember you!” He said as he pointed at you. “You were here a few weeks ago, yeah?” You smiled politely and nodded, Heat had a guarded expression, but the guy just took your orders and left for the kitchen. Kid glanced back at you as you sipped your beer.

“Weird that he remembered us.” Heat started, you chuckled.

“I mean, you and captain are pretty memorable.”

Heat grunted but didn’t continue. The time passed by quickly, you and Heat ate and drank your beers. Slowly more patrons started trickling in, mostly your crew but some locals too. At some point you pulled out a deck of cards and started a no stakes game with Heat, hoping to improve your skills.

Kid was suspiciously quiet, you’d glance at him often, but he just drank in solitude. Occasionally a crew mate would come up and chat with him, but when they left he’d just fall silent again. He glanced at you about as often as you did him, until Killer finally joined on the stool next to him.

“Pay attention before I make us play Go Fish.” Heat admonished you, your face turned red.

“Jokes on you I’m a shark at Go Fish.” You grin at him despite the shame of being caught.

As the night finally kicks off and nearly the entire crew, minus those on ship watch, are here, you and Heat finish your game. He splits off to find Wire and you go up to the bar for some stronger drinks. There were no open spots so you tapped on Killer’s shoulder, he made space between him and Kid. You waved at the bartender, having to stand on the barstool’s foot rest to be tall enough.

“What can I get you, gorgeous?” The man asks smoothly. Both men beside you tense, but you through your head back in a laugh, the previous drinks got you a little more comfortable.

“Can I get 2 shots of whiskey and a rum and coke?”

“Of course!” The bartender starts working on that, you keep an eye on him as Killer leans to speak with Kid over your head. You can’t really hear them, but ignore to focus on the man making your drinks. “Here you go.” He places the 3 glasses down and you put a few Berries on the counter, Kid swipes them back to you quickly.

“Hey!” You and the bartender say at once, your captain sneers then throws down his own Berries.

“Shut up both of ya!” He avoids your eyes and tucks back into his drink. Killer let’s off a restrained chuckle, you can feel it more than hear it against your side. You shrug, ready to let your captain’s weird behavior go if it meant free drinks, the bartender though didn’t seem as willing.

“Aw what a gentleman,” He grins at you. “Here I thought chivalry was dead.” Kid glowered at him, but Killer shook his head, which made the redhead frown harder.

“Thanks, Boss!” You say to ease the tension, then offer him one of the shots. “This was for Heat but he ditched me, you want it?” He regards you for a moment and takes the shot without a word. He grunts at the burn and watches you take yours then take a quick sip of your coke to chase it. Killer let’s out a brisk goodbye and vacates his seat, yanking you onto it.

“This shit is cheap, let me get some of that.” He gestures to your glass, normally he wouldn’t need a chaser, but he didn’t want you running off just yet. Or worse, talking with the stupid bartender again, who seems to be hovering around you. You slide him the drink, he takes a sip and grimaces again. “Fuck that’s strong, got what? Like an spit’s worth of coke?” You nod.

“Yeah it’s kinda strong,” You make a face as you take another sip. “Maybe I just gotta stir it.” You swirl it with a straw from the bar and try again. Nope, still strong.

“Tryin’ to get her drunk fast?” Kid shoots at the bartender, who pretends like he wasn’t listening.

“Does the lady not like her drink? I can certainly remake it for you.” He ignores Kid to speak with you, who is steadily considering murder. You wave his question off.

“Nah, it’s fine.” You’d rather just drink it, this guy was really annoying Kid and it was better if he just gave you some space.

“If you change your mind~” He winks at you and you fight back a laugh. This guy was over the top with his flirting. “Just let me know, my name is Jon.” He finally walked off to service some more patrons, the second bartender, an older woman, arrived to help with the orders.

“Fucking annoying ass dick head.” Kid mutters, you roll you eyes, but he doesn’t see it.

“He seemed nice enough.” You said lazily, eyes scanning the crowd as you stir your drink again. “Kinda cute too.”

“What? Seriously?” Kid looks you up and down like you’ve grown another head.

“Yeah, he’s nice at least.” You shrug.

“Gross. You’re way outta his league.” He needs to shut up, right now.

You’re stiff again, suddenly remembering his insult earlier. He can feel the change in you and quickly looks away, staring at his beer like it would hide him.

“Whatever.” You hop off the stool and go to leave, his hand grips your upper arm tightly. You flinch and tense, his grip softens but doesn’t leave, you let him pull you back onto the stool.

“That wasn’t what I meant… Earlier.” He said slowly, his hand slips down to hold your forearm.

“When you said I wasn’t pretty enough to be flirted with?” You clarified for him, he scowled but tried to force it away.

“I never said that!” He cuts himself off. “Look, you’re plenty pretty. I just meant that creeps shouldn’t be bothering you, ya know?” He finishes lamely, heat on his face, trying to look at you. A pause hangs in the air and he finally looks at your face, you keep it neutral for a moment.

“So… you think I’m pretty?” You ask with a grin, he snatches his hand away from you with a growl. Your face is also red, but you poke his arm playfully. “What’s next? You gonna propose?” He flushes more and grits his teeth.

“Knock it off will ya! I’m trying to be nice for fucking once!” He bats your hand off of him, hoping he seems as annoyed. “Acting all hot and cold on me.”

“Calm down, Boss. You know I don’t mean anything by it.” You hold your hands up in mock surrender. His eyes cut to you then back to the crowd.

“Yeah, I know.”

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Wait; I don’t remember much about some arcs, but the foxy the pirate arc was fun; if you’re willing to do anything with this it would be much appreciated!❤️

It’s about on child lucky/reader during the foxy the pirates where they take the reader during one of the games, trying to win her back. Since she’s a child and has no idea what’s going on, she starts crying and stuff, but once they win her back that she’s so clingy and won’t let go of them to the point where she just holds onto on their legs when they win her back and if they lose again; she starts fighting tooth and nails to not let go.

Or something else. I just want to read more child lucky stuff if you have any! Thank you for reading, have a good day author!

I keep telling myself that I’m not going to spoil Lucky Break… but y’all keep giving me these plot bunnies and I keep caving instantly

When I wrote Get Back Here! I’d only imagined the deaging to be temporary, but now this ask has me thinking about it being permanent and now Lucky has been factory reset into a four year old. It’s a very interesting dynamic to think about. I’m gonna have to write about this some more… I’m hereby calling this the Little Lucky AU

I’ve written something like this about the Foxy Pirates before actually! It was just a short drabble, here, but it’s got a similar vibe. The davy back fights do not mesh well with yanderes, and considering that normal, regular-ass Zoro suggested just killing them and leaving in the anime, I think I underplayed how dangerous yandere Zoro would be tbh

Ok so into the spoilers for Lucky Break. They would not get Lucky at all. Period. Why? Because they couldn’t have come in at a worse point in the story. Don’t get me wrong, the Straw Hats wouldn’t take it well at any point, but by this point in Lucky Break they are unhinged. Skypeia is a really bad time for Lucky, and it really messes with adult Lucky so child Lucky is going to be severely traumatized by it. Enel winds up being the tipping point for the Straw Hats going from low-key yandere to full on yandere. Everything post Skypeia takes on a darker tone to match it and the yandere elements of the story go from subtle to very intense.

By the time they get to Long Ring Long Land, Lucky is looking like she got thrown down a flight of stairs, electrocuted, and strangled. This is concerning to see on an adult, and is horrifying to see on a literal preschooler. The Foxy pirates aren’t even really being malicious when they try to take her, they’re genuinely concerned (and also suffering under the effects of Lucky’s amulet which becomes much more potent post Skypeia). They have a team meeting beforehand and are all like “so we’re gonna take the baby and leave the rest of them behind, right?” and no one disagrees.

But needless to say, all of the Straw Hats are on edge and fucking feral so this concern is not taken well. This was supposed to be a drabble, but as per usual I have no self control and wrote a whole ass chapter basically.

3.9k words

Resisting the urge to pick at your scabs was hard on a good day, but when you were feeling sick to your stomach with nerves, it felt impossible not to do. Not wanting to make Chopper upset, you move your hands to grasp at the brim of Luffy’s hat. Partially to keep your hand busy, and partially to keep it from falling over your eyes again.

You guess it made sense that they wouldn’t let you participate, but that didn’t make having to be separated from your friends any less nerve wracking. Luffy had tried to bring you onto his boat regardless, only relenting when Nami bitterly admitted that they had a point and you would be safer on land. 

Terrified at the idea of being alone, you immediately began to tear up and protest, but Luffy made a compromise with you. Since the race was going to be so dangerous, he needed someone to look after his hat and keep it safe. So, if you could be brave about being by yourself for a little while, he would entrust this task to you. Part of you still wasn’t happy about this, but you didn’t want to let Luffy down, so you put on a brave face and accepted. 

Now you were left to sit on the cliffside overlooking the start of the race, waiting for it to begin so it could be over already. At least not everyone else will be in the games after this. From your perch, you could see your friends frantically scanning through the crowd. Oh, they were probably looking for you.

Standing up, you maintained your hold on Luffy’s treasure with one hand and waved to them with the other. Sanji was the first to spot you and pointed you out to everyone else. They all swiveled their heads in your direction, and the relief on their faces was palpable. Everyone waved back at you, and Luffy stood up, rather shakily on his raft, to call out to you, “Don’t worry, Lucky! We’ll win this no problem!”

There were some chuckles coming from the audience, and the weird looking announcer guy felt the need to comment on this, “Oh! What’s this? The Straw Hat’s captain thinks they’ll win this no problem? A bold claim to make from someone who has never seen the might of! The! Foxy! Piiiiraaates!”

You winced at the sheer volume and noise of feedback, not able to resist the urge to cover your ears. Luffy’s hat fell over your eyes, blocking out the view but doing nothing to block out the noise. You already didn’t feel good, and that was not helped by the roar of applause and cheers coming from the crowd. 

The breath lodged in your throat. The onslaught of noise felt like it was coming at you from all angles, melding together and ultimately amping up into an obnoxious ringing in your ears. Your knees buckled, making you fall onto your behind as you struggled to force yourself to remember how to breathe.

It’s too much! It’s way too much! It’s-

“Hey!” Two familiar hands fell onto your shoulders, snapping you out of the downwards spiral you were falling victim to. One of the hands moves to lift the brim of the hat just enough for you to make eye contact with your best friend. He smiled, and just seeing it was enough to soothe you a little, “It’s going to be okay! Don’t listen to them, we’ve got this!”

“Y-Yeah, of course you do,” you choked out.

Luffy brought you in for a quick but tight hug, smushing your face into his red shirt, “That’s it! We’ll be back before you know it!”

“Luffy! If you’re not in your boat by the start of the race you will be disqualified!” The announcer shouted, causing you to flinch again.

His grip on you tightened, and while you couldn’t see it, you just knew that he was scowling. His neck snapped towards the announcer furiously, “I will be! Stop being so loud about it!” Gently, Luffy pulled you away from him, offering another smile. His voice was quieter than usual, “Don’t worry about it, we’ll beat them and be out of here before you know it.” 

With a quick pat to your head, he rocketed himself back to his raft, nearly flipping it over in the process. While the exchange had eased your fears a little, there was still an overhanging discomfort about the situation. What would happen if they didn’t win? Who would those other pirates take? You shook your head. No. You’re not gonna think about it! Luffy will win, you just know it.

The distinct sound of grass crunching beneath feet made your shoulders tense up. Hesitantly, you turned to identify who was coming up behind you. It was two people. One of them was the captain, you think Luffy said his name was Split-Head? Yeah that sounds right. The other one was some big monkey-looking guy. You’re pretty sure his name was Hamburger, a funny name but who are you to judge?

Split-Head grinned at you, but it was not providing the warmth and comfort that Luffy’s gave you. It reminded you of a sleazy salesman that your mother yelled at in the mall one time for being too pushy. Maybe he’ll go away if you ignore him? You hope so.

“Why hello there, young lady! Your captain didn’t include your name on the roster, can you tell me it?” Split-Head was now crouched down next to you, much too close for comfort.

You kept your head down and shrugged, “I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”

This didn’t deter him in the slightest, “Aww, come on! You won’t make friends that way, kid. You can trust me! I’m captain Foxy of the Foxy pirates!” From your peripherals you could see him puffing out his chest in pride. His name is Foxy? Split-Head is more fitting in your humble opinion. He must think really high of himself. “There, now I’m not a stranger!”

It seems like this guy isn’t going away any time soon. You dug your heels into the dirt anxiously, wishing he would leave you alone. “Yeah, well… you’re still strange,” you mumbled.

Split-Head-Foxy let out an offended gasp, then fell to his knees with a gloomy aura looming over him. Wow. He’s pushy, full of himself, weird, AND dramatic. You rolled your eyes and took a decisive step away from him, looking out at the ocean as the race finally started. 

It was then that it dawned on you that this race went around the whole island, meaning that you’re going to have to run to try and keep up. Emphasis on the try. Without a word to the two pirates bothering you, you ran after your friends’ boats. Both of your hands were tightly grasping the hat on your head to prevent it from flying off. Sure, there was a string attached to it around your neck, but you didn’t want to risk it.

Immediately, it became obvious that you were not going to be able to keep up. Even if you were at your best, you wouldn’t be fast enough. But with how injured you were, everything was sore and the pain of your muscles pulling on your scabs made your run more like a trot. The Straw Hats’ boats were getting farther and farther away, and you could feel frustrated tears prickling at your eyes.

There was the sound of… galloping? Yeah, galloping behind you. Pretty soon, Foxy pulled up next to you riding Hamburger like a horse. Man, this guy just keeps getting weirder.

“Looks like you need a ride there, kid. Why don’t you hop on so we can watch this race together, hm?” Foxy held out his hand to you, smiling smugly. Memories of your preschool teacher telling the class to never get in a stranger’s car came to mind. A monkey man isn’t exactly a car, but you think the same idea applies here.

You shook your head vigorously, “No, I don’t wanna go with you.”

Foxy’s smile fell, and his hand drooped. He plastered it back on his face after a moment, “Kid, you’re not going to be able to keep up, just come with me. I’ve got some candy! I’ll give you some if you hop on!”

A stranger offering you candy to get in their vehicle was another thing your teacher warned you about. Yeah, this was definitely a bad guy you shouldn’t talk to. You doubled your effort to run a little faster to put some distance between you and them, “No! Leave me alone!”

They sped up, closing the gap in seconds. Instead of saying anything, Hamburger simply reached out and plucked you right off your feet then dropped you onto Foxy. Naturally, you started thrashing and screaming, “Let go of me! Put me down! Stranger danger!”

Hamburger laughed at your terror, “What a feisty child.”

“Quit laughing Hamburg, she’s kicking up a storm,” he was frantically trying to get a good hold on you. “Calm down! We’re not going to hurt you, we’re help- OW!” You managed to land a good kick to his face. Despite that, he was able to hold onto you. He spun you so that you were facing away from him.

His hand grabbed your face and turned it to gaze out at the ocean, “Look! We’re caught up now!”

True to his word, you could see the contestants. Your face scrunched up in confusion, not seeing Luffy and Sanji’s boat anywhere. Or Zoro and Chopper’s. Were they that far ahead? Yeah, that was definitely it, had to be. You could still see Usopp, Nami, and Robin at least. Seeing them made you feel a little calmer.

“See? We were just trying to help you out,” his smug grin was back. “Now how about you tell me your name?”

As much as you didn’t want to, he probably wouldn’t shut up about it until you did, “It’s Lucky.”

“Lucky? Is that supposed to be a nickname or something?” “It’s my name! You asked and I told you, stop bugging me about it,” you grumbled. You want to get down, but you get the feeling they wouldn’t let you do that. At least you get to follow the race now.

Foxy fished around in his pocket and pulled out some brightly colored objects, “Here, I bet you want some candy, don’t you?”

It’s bad enough that you’re riding with him, you’re not gonna take any candy from this weirdo, “No thank you, I don’t want any.”

He sighed and stuffed it back in his pocket. You hoped this would be the end of his chattering. Unfortunately, it didn’t appear that luck was on your side today. Or this week, really. Foxy held out your arm, scrutinizing all the scabbed over burns on it, “How did this happen, Lucky?”

“It’s none of your business, I don’t wanna talk about it mister,” you huffed. You didn’t want to even think about that ever again. About him. About how cold and uncaring his eyes were. About how much it hurt. Your shoulders started to shake and your lip trembled.

“Whoa, hey it’s okay! You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to!” Foxy brought you in for a hug, but you really didn’t want it. You squirmed and tried to get away from him, but he wasn’t letting you.

“What’s this?! The last remaining Straw Hat boat has broken into first place with incredible speed!” The announcer shouted.

Wait. Last remaining?! How was there only one boat left?! You looked out to see Usopp, Nami, and Robin barreling towards the finish line. They were going to win! They needed to if they were the only ones left.

Foxy cursed under his breath, “Hamburg, you need to hurry to the end goal!”

Hamburger only nodded and sped up. You were kinda impressed by how fast he was able to go. Despite being pestered by these two so much, you were smiling and kicking your feet in excitement. They were going to win this race! And then they would win the other two races, too!”

A little ways before the finish line, Hamburg came to a halt, and Foxy hopped off. You took the opportunity to scramble off him, too. You rushed to the cliff and called out, “You can do it! You’re gonna win!” If they heard you, they didn’t react.

“I wouldn’t count your chickens before they hatch, Lucky,” Foxy stated ominously. He held out his hands and made some weird shapes with them, like he was trying to make shadow puppets. All you could do was eye him curiously, trying to figure out what that was supposed to mean. You don’t have any chickens, why is he talking about counting them? Weird. 

His fingers were pointed right at your friends and then he said something about a slow-slow beam. Your friends, who were previously rocketing towards the finish, abruptly slowed down to a crawl, seemingly unable to move. Your jaw dropped as the other boat with the pointy nosed girl on it took the lead and then, much to your horror, won the race.

You whipped around to Foxy, who was looking quite proud of himself, “What did you do?!”

“I put my devil fruit to good use, that’s what! I can slow down anything with my slow-slow beam.”

“That’s cheating! You’re a cheater!” You stomped your foot angrily, pointing an accusing finger at him.

“No it’s not. I said there were no rules in this race, didn’t I? That means I’m allowed to help my team from the sidelines if I want.” He tried to pat your head, but you slapped his hand away.

“But that’s not fair!”

“Life isn’t fair, kid, you should get used to it and be a good sport about your team losing,” Foxy had the audacity to try and scold you for your behavior. Who does he think he is?!

“I hate you! Stupid Split-Head!” You kicked his shin before running off to try and find your friends, you need to tell them about this. 

Due to how large Foxy’s crew was, it was difficult to find one of your friends. Especially when everyone was trying to get you to stop and talk to them for some reason. Finally, though, you spotted the red shirt that you would recognize in a heartbeat. 

“Luffy!” 

That catches his attention, alright. He whirls around and then runs to meet you. Knowing the drill, you lift your arms so he can pick you up. He does just that, holding you out in front of him, “There you are!” His clothes were wet and water was dripping out of his hair, he must have fallen into the ocean at some point.

Your first order of business was to return his prized possession to him. You pulled the hat off your head and placed it onto his, albeit a bit crooked, “I kept your hat safe for you!”

“I knew you could, good job Lucky!” Luffy pulled you in to balance you on his hip and used his free hand to ruffle your hair.

Now onto the big thing, “Luffy, that Split-Head guy is a cheater! He’s got a devil fruit that makes stuff super slow and he used it on Usopp, Nami, and Robin! He uses his fingers to do it!”

“Is that what happened?!” The grin he was previously sporting dropped and he looked surprised.

You nodded, “Mmhm! I saw it myself!”

Luffy mimicked your nod, humming in thought, “Well now that we know about it, we can look out for it in the next game. We’ll figure out how to beat it, don’t worry!”

You looked away, picking at his shirt nervously, “Are you sure? You said the same thing about winning the race, but…” 

He tensed up from that, “Hey, come on! Have some faith in me, in all of us. We’ll win the rest of the matches for sure!” Luffy knelt down to put you on the ground, “Now how about you go stand with the others, okay?”

“Okay,” you didn’t really want to leave him, but you needed to listen to him. He probably had important captain stuff to do. It only took a second to spot some of the others. They weren’t far away and were watching your interaction with Luffy. You hurried over, squeezing yourself in between Robin and Sanji.

Sanji dropped onto his knees and brought you into a tight hug. He was also soaking wet. “Were you okay being on your own, princess? No one bothered you, did they?”

“I’m okay. Some people did bother me, but I gave them the slip after I kicked one of them in the shins,” you declared proudly.

Sanji’s face pinched in fury, “Who?”

“Um,” you took a second to remember their names again. “Oh, Foxy and Hamburger!”

“Hamburger? Do you mean Hamburg?” Robin asked, stifling a chuckle. Oh yeah, Foxy did call him that, didn’t he?

“Yeah, that. They kept trying to talk to me and made me come with them to watch the race. I didn’t want to, but Hamburger- I mean Hamburg, picked me up and made me come with. Oh, and Foxy tried to give me candy but I didn’t take any.”

Sanji was scowling and looked ready to go on a rampage. Forcing himself to take a deep breath, he let you go and stood up while digging his cigarettes and lighter out of his pockets. He was muttering about caving their heads in later.

The announcer and captain were standing on a stage and said that it was time to announce who they were taking for their victory. Your heart sank and you clung onto Robin’s leg nervously. Who were they going to steal? Would Luffy really be able to win them back? What if they won all three rounds and stole three of your friends? Robin pet your hair reassuringly.

“We have decided on who is becoming a Foxy pirate! It is none other than,” there was a pause for dramatic effect. Your stress was climbing with every second. The announcer took a deep breath and finally finished the sentence, “Lucky!”

Everyone fell silent, but for only a second. Then chaos erupted.

“Absolutely not!” Nami shrieked.

“You said she was too young to participate!” Sanji interjected.

“We said she was too young to participate in the fights, not that she was off the table for this part,” Foxy pointed out with a smirk.

“She’s four years old! What could you possibly want from her?!” Sanji was already mad before the announcement, but now he was furious.

“That doesn’t matter, you need to hand her over now, lest you want to break the rules,” Foxy reminded him.

Sanji was distracted from his argument as he heard a sob behind him. From you. Robin was quick to scoop you up, cradling you in her arms and trying to calm you down. “Now look what you did! She’s crying!” Sanji barked at them.

“I don’t wanna go, I don’t wanna!” You wailed, clinging onto Robin like your life depended on it. Which, as far as you were concerned, it did.

“Pick someone else, Lucky isn’t going to go with you,” Luffy spoke. His tone was cool, but the words were sharp.

“Don’t tell me what to do, straw hat. I’m making the rules here, not you. She’s a pirate, is she not? She needs to learn not to be such a crybaby. Besides, once she’s with us she’ll see how nice we are!” Foxy crowed proudly. 

“This is cruel, she’s just a child!” Robin chimed in, clutching you to her chest even tighter.

“Quit complaining so much, it’s not like we’re going to hurt her any worse than she’s already been hurt. We’re probably better suited for protecting her than you are,” the pointy-nosed woman was now approaching you and Robin, looking annoyed. “Now give her to me. Come here, Lucky! Do you want to go get some cotton candy with me?”

Her reaching for you only made you scream louder, “NO NO NO! I’m not going!” She tried to grab you anyways, but Robin was quick to put a stop to that. Arm sprouted from the woman’s body and immobilized her. 

Robin backed up by several paces, “Get away from her, you’re just going to make this worse!”

At this point, tears were pouring down your face and you felt like you couldn’t breathe despite how frantically your lungs were working. You coughed and hacked between hysteric breaths and sobs. Your heart was pounding out of your chest and your head hurt. They were going to take you away. You were going to be taken away from your friends again. Just like in Skypeia.

They were going to steal you.

They were going to hurt you.

“Don’t let me get taken away again!” You wailed at the top of your lungs.

Foxy scoffed, “This is getting ridiculous! Fine, if you won’t give her to us then I’ll tak-”

His sentence was ended abruptly by Luffy’s fist connecting with his face. A sickening crunch cut through the air. Before he even hit the ground, Luffy’s hand grabbed hold of his jacket and pulled him close. As soon as he was in range, Luffy was on him. 

He climbed on top of him and as Foxy was raising his hands to defend himself, Luffy grabbed them and snapped his fingers before he could put his devil fruit to use. Then Luffy began wailing on him, furious, raw screams erupting from his throat.

Everyone was frozen in place, shocked at the display, but then the crowd rushed at Luffy to save their captain. They couldn’t even get close, though. Zoro leapt into action, cutting them down like paper. You weren’t able to see anything else after that, as Robin snapped out of her own state of shock and buried your face in her neck. “Don’t watch this, Lucky,” she whispered.

A hand landed on your head, gently stroking your hair. It feels like Sanji. He confirmed this by speaking lowly, “Robin, get Nami and Chopper and head back to the ship. Prepare it to set sail, it looks like we’re not going to be finishing these games after all.” He peaked around her shoulder to be able to look you in the eyes, “Don’t worry Lucky. We will never let you get taken away again, I promise.”

Many Foxy pirates swarmed around you ready to attack, only to get sent flying by Sanji. He didn’t even look back at you and Robin, “Go! I’ll protect you so just focus on getting the others and going back to the ship.”

“Right, let’s go Lucky,” Robin held you securely in her arms and ran. “Navigator! Doctor! We’re leaving, follow me!” They didn’t need to be told twice, cutting through the crowd to run in tandem with you and Robin. “We need to free the ship and get it ready to sail!”

“Should be easy enough,” Nami said. She caught your eye and switched to a softer tone, “When we get back to the ship, I need you to go hide in our room until one of us comes to get you, okay?”

“O-Okay,” you sniffled pitifully. At least the tears had stopped now. You chose to nestle in closer in Robin arms for the duration of the sprint back to the Going Merry, eager to leave and for this to all be behind you.

[decaf-mother]

Warnings: MDNI, Smutty

-

Your back hits the plush surface of your mattress, rose petals recklessly scattered from the sudden force, the wind nearly knocked out of you with Peter's weight shoved into you, the motion fast enough to make you nearly dizzy. Giggles erupting into the air while you tug at his messy silver locks, earning an embarrassing little noise that sounds similar to a whine from the man.

"Easy there, Quickie... I would preferably like to not end up in the hospital on Valentine's Day."

"Sorry, babe... Y'just look too good. Fuck..."

You had surprised Peter for Valentine's Day, planning to have a nice romantic night in... Rose petals scattered and you in a pretty new set of lingerie. However as per usual he got a little bit overly excited, his hard on rubbing against your thigh as he peppers sweet kisses down your neck.

"Gonna make y'feel so good... Promise. Just gotta feel you... The things you do to me. Damn."

Yeah... This new set of lingerie won't survive very long. Oh well.

-

[anika-ann]

GG Steve and A, I, and/or R??

Well hello, Ro, sorry that this took so embarrassingly long 🥲

Here are some dirty thoughts from this game concerning my beloved Gentle Giant Stevie from Love on the Brain in scrambled order... you'll find the dirtiest and longest at the bottom (is this a pun? it's a bad pun). Technically, the you is his partner in every sense of the word aka Sparkles, but it can be read independently of the series.

Thots under cut. Warnings: they are 18+, okay- also there's very little editing, it's a headcanon, not an essay.

R - Routine (do they have a routine when it comes to picking up one night stands? do they have scheduled sex with their partner? are things spontaneous or planned ahead of time?)

One-night stands are no-no. Very much no no and they were even before he met you… but where scheduled sex is concerned the answer is also no. With your crazy schedules, it might make sense to try to plan so you can squeeze in some intimate together time, but with emergency missions… not so much. Things keep getting in the way (cough cough, there might be a ‘drabble’ about them getting actually frustrated at the lack of closeness and sexual encounters of theirs in general due to schedule conflicts). So spontaneity usually wins – certainly in a way of appreciating every moment you catch together. It doesn’t always have to be sexual per se, but it often ends up that way 😏 You had two years of pent-up sexual tension, can anyone blame you??? Not to mention that adrenalin and emotions can sometimes fly high, so if there is something routine-like, it’s winding down together after a mission, be it sweet and tender, all desperate hungry kisses with clashes of teeth, grasping and grabbing and fuck me we are alive, or celebratory god damn you were hot and capable and badass today. Does that count as a routine? One routine thing though; Steve is a man with a plan. Just because he doesn’t necessarily schedule sex, he is using his strategic mind to find windows in your calendar so you find time to be together. To take you out for a date for dinner, for a bike ride, or just lie under the stars and cuddle. Sure, these things often do result in intimacy of all kinds, but that man has a heart larger than his already impressive body and you fill a huge portion of it; it’s only fair you take up his time too.

P.S. The man is not only a planner but an overthinker often. Remember when it took you forever to sleep together for the first time? He ran his mind over thousands of scenarios, planned everything he’d say, everything he’d do, guessed how you’d react (and had some alone time over that a lot),how many times he’d get you off before he starts counting the times he will. Because he wants to treat you right and the one moment when you admitted a guy had been after getting you to bed and then instantly fled the so-called relationship since he got what he wanted is ingrained in his brain and he’ll do everything in his power to show you that he’s not him. Even if it means blue balls or might result in a supersoldier carpal tunnel issues.

Which gets us to:

A - Alone time (how do they get off when they’re all by themselves? do they watch porn, is it all in their imagination, do they jerk off, do they use toys?)

I’ll start with the last one: nah. There is no way he got his hands on toys in his original time and he was doing just fine and he doesn’t need them now. How would he even get them without half the globe learning about it? No thank you. He’s got hands. Two big hands. If you ever express interest in him using toys on you, he is all game and will get off on watching you squirm and nearly lose your mind to pleasure – which he will try to replicate on his own because dammit he will not have some toy satisfy you better, at least make it a cooperation dammit – but not on himself. Not when alone.  

Steve’s a sensual, visual guy. He imagines a lot, but feels rather bad jerking off to a specific person, because it feels rather… invasive and unfair. So his mind conjures images, perhaps a combination of actual memories of voices and visuals (and yes, some inspiration might have come from porn, but he doesn’t downright puts on an adult movie and gets on it, nope), perfumes and scents, images of hands smaller than his on him he can mimic by his own touch and that is what gets him going… and off. If he has the time. He doesn’t have a problem with a quick work in a shower (which often is a solution and I know I share this headcanon with someone, cough cough).

The problem starts when you join. Because A, his need of alone time increases exponentially and B, his mind just. Wouldn’t let go. He’s damn ashamed of it, because you are friends and your friendship is sweet and teasing and maybe there’s a little bit of flirting, and the act itself feels like defiling you, but well, there’s the fact that he would like to defile you. He has so many memories of you filling his senses that get him off, even if they come from workout or from movie night or from perfectly innocent hugs. He feels like a creep and it’s utterly disrespectful to you, but he can’t help it. He tries to relief his conscience by not actively starting with imagining you.

In that sense, it is a real liberation to him when you get together, because he might need a lot of alone time then too before you take your relationship to that level, but at least his conscience is clean even as his mind is filthy.

Speaking of filthy mind… drabble-ish thots ahead.

I - Impact play (here’s where talking about things like spanking, paddles, canes, floggers and the like.) - not me having to google stuff on this

My instant reply was no. NOT STEVE. No violence in any form in the bedroom, not in intimacy. Violence is for battlefield, for missions. For training to a point, and even there he’s careful not to hurt you. When in bed, he might hold you a little too tight, grab a little too harsh, knead and squeeze and maybe suck enough to bruise when you feel just so good and he’s losing himself in you, losing control, but no hitting or slapping or-- nope. He earned the nickname of a Gentle Giant for a reason he might be sensual to a point of filthy, but if he hurt you (even if you asked), he couldn’t look himself in the eye in the mirror.

BUT ALSO.

He’s a handsy man. He does adore drowning all his senses in you, he loves exploring his lover’s body with all he has and he simply loves to touch at all times, feel the softness and warmth and slick, every curve, the thundering of your heartbeat under your skin with his fingertips or lips. To taste you where you let him. Inhale the scent your perfume, your arousal, the heady smell of sex in the air. To listen to the little or not so little noises, swallow them and let them melt on his tongue. To watch.

And that’s when it happens.

He didn’t mean to do it. He did not, and he’s horrified for a split second, because fuck he did not just- You were riding him. A glorious sight, pretty flushed face with slightly love-bitten lips and pupils blown with pleasure, breasts bouncing, muscles straining and little overworked from having mostly earned that previous orgasm on your own besides his lazy strokes over your clit and feeling where you were joined; you stilled for just a moment to get precious air into your lungs, breathy sounds of his name falling from your parted lips, so gorgeously fucked out and still needy for him and he could feel you so close again, his hand spread over your breast, over your hip, gripping and kneading your ass, your thigh and you were almost there, fluttering around him and he wanted one more, sweetheart, gimme one more, wanna feel you and he---

He meant to tap your thigh in encouragement when you started moving again, chasing your peak and it turned out to be more of a full-palm slap over the tempting curve of your ass and it was an accident, Steve would swear it.He froze, his thoughts faster than the reaction of your body, mind already flaring with horror and anxiety by the time your body caught up with what he had done nd had not meant to do and you-

You squeezed his cock so hard he felt it in his throat and he nearly choked, but mainly felt his groin spasm as you lost yourself to pleasure and all it took was a few rapid thrusts into your spasming burning heat and he was done for. Your juices coating his balls. His mouth slanting over yours on instinct even as the keen you released was the single lewdest soundhe had ever coaxed from you and his balls might be empty, but his chest is full of pride and his brain empty of thought but full of question marks, new fantasies and an image of you etched into his memory forever.

Your hips are still jerking minutely on instinct, your face now hidden in his shoulder, chest heaving beautifully against his, his lips kissing anywhere they can reach and holy damn. His hands grow softer, more comforting than exploring, mouth whispering sweet nothings even as they want to ask questions. You’ll tell him; he hopes you will. If there was one thing you were learning fast, it was communication; the last time you failed to communicate on a massive scale about how you felt, you ended up longing and lusting after one another for about two years. He’d rather not wait that long.

But he doesn’t press; in return, you press to him, peek at him shyly and kiss his lips sweetly, climbing off him only to settle in his lap anyway and hug him close, finger drawing non-sensical pattern on his shoulder and back until you both rise and rinse the sweat and other juices off your bodies in a shower together.

Only when in fresh sheets – the previous ones were beyond saving, at least for the night – when held close in his arms, gentle hands mapping out the familiar, and with sleep evading you despite the sleepiness and comfort of each other’s embrace, you confessed.

“I… I think I really liked it because I—I know you’d never hurt me,” you admit softly, earning a thoughtful hum at the half explanation.

“I didn’t mean to do it. I didn’t expect that reaction either, but I’d never do it without asking first. You know that, right?”

“I know. That’s what I mean, GG. I trust you…” you remind him softly, even as you teeth worry over your still kiss-swollen lower lip. “But if you… liked it too, you can do it again. Sometime. I… you didn’t mean to do it, I get that, but you let yourself get lost in the moment. With me. You lost- you let go of control a bit… for me. You let go because you feel comfortable enough with me to do that. That means a lot to me. And… you feeling so good with me that you… lose it and take what you need – without hurting me besides a little fading red mark or a tiny bruise – makes me feel pretty damn powerful and proud too. Really wanted and desired… pretty golden.”

The admissions hang heavy in the air, your whole body buzzing with nerves, a little voice in your head sleazily whispering of judgement. Your Gentle Giant, looking at you with disdain, even as what you confessed weren’t all that scandalous. The things you had encountered in your BAU days made this look about as freaky as wearing a little lace. And yet… your body buzzes with nerves and a little thrill and the chances of falling asleep now are precisely zero.

The voice falls silent the second Steve turns you in his arms so you face him and you find him watching you with his smile warm, eyes blown wide and curious – and everything but tired just like you.

“I do trust you too,” he whispers, fingertips brushing your cheekbone, strand of hair from your face, eyes roaming your face until they fall a little lower, as if in shame. Even in the limited light, you can tell his face is burning too. “Where-- I’d always ask, but--- and never with force, I don’t want to hurt you, and never your face, I--- but if I ever… where?”

Your heart thunders in your ribcage. You gulp as with his every word, it leaps into your throat too, your body brimming with nervous energy. But he watches with such genuine curiosity and excitement, the plans no doubt already whirling in his head, the strategist, the planner, the lover, the pleaser… the little shit. Your GG.

Your face is aflame, your hand shakes a little as you take his and it’s both anxiety and arousal, something scalding hot pulsing in your core again, when you lead that hand to set on your bare hip.

His gaze is dead set on yours, watching your reaction; you know he picked up on your quickened breathing, as you guide his hand over the globe of your ass, over your outer thigh, skim over the front to slip on the inside, heading higher, under his hand is cupping your sex.

His gaze is smouldering. You nervously lick your lips, escaping the cage of his gaze because you cannot bear it anymore, a little whisper of shame returning to back of your head, but the moment you look away, his free hand – the other is still touching you – slides under your chin, thumb brushing over your lips. The thumb of his other hand does the same as he slips under your panties and moves to your slick sex and slightly swollen and oversensitive bundle of nerves. Erection poking your thigh. Mouth against yours, whispering.

“Good to know, sweetheart…” Rough. His voice is so rough and husky and his lips are slick and warm and filthy. “Anything for ya’. Love ya so much… got me so hard for you again… the things you do to me, I swear-”

He clearly picked up more than on you just liking just the touch alone; the filthy praise spills from his lips, empowering, and the late night finds you tangled in the sheets once more, languid deep kisses that consume you, the connection forged by a secret revealed, secret shared, whispering between you about next time, even as now is all that matters, all you feel.

Steve is an observant man; he still needs confirmation ahead, but he learns the signs. It’s not something you engage in often, but he recognizes that soft mewly quality to your sighs now, the special glint in your eyes barely even hinting you need it; and he gives. And since he has consent, he lets himself lose control with you a little bit more too.

-.-.-.

Ro, I think I read too many of your wonderful replies to this game that I adopted the manner in which you write them. Ehm. I hope that's okay with you.

Thank you for the ask 💕 It took forever, but it was fun ✨