#he's so tender and thoughtful my heart just explodes

[flowerandblood]

Duty and desire (Oneshot)

[ canon • Aemond x niece • wife female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, sex content, smut, angst, praise kink activated, lactation kink, fluff ]

[ description: An incident between her husband and their sons causes her uncle to completely break down. She decides to show him how deep her feelings are towards him and to comfort him. A heartbroken, vulnerable, infatuated Aemond in need of simple tenderness. ]

Author’s note: The events of this oneshot are part of the canon of The Fall from the Heavens series and feature the same characters. I couldn't sleep and that's how I mentally coped with what I saw in the second episode of the second season. You're welcome, lol. If you still didn't watch it, wait with reading it (if you don't like any kind of spoilers). It can be read as a standalone story.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

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He had returned to their chamber earlier, tense and visibly frustrated despite the fact that he usually spent that part of the day sparring with their sons, training them in the wielding of the sword.

She smiled at him from above her book, watching as he involuntarily looked into the cradle where Visenya slept peacefully.

The birth of their first daughter was joyous news for the entire kingdom, including them.

"So early?" She asked, spreading out comfortably in her chair, curious about this change of plans. Her uncle only pursed his lips at her words, walking over to the table where she sat and reached for a cup, into which he poured himself a little wine.

He remained silent.

A bad sign.

"What's happened?" She asked immediately, seeing that hundreds of thoughts were currently running through his mind, which if they did not find an outlet would eventually explode in the form of his fury.

He took a few deep sips from his goblet without looking at her, setting it down with a loud clink of steel on the table.

"Viserys and Aegon have suggested that Ser Robert should be the one to train them today. They apparently want to become archers." He said with a sneer and anger that startled her. She swallowed hard, closing the book, understanding full well that his words were only the tip of what he was really thinking about.

"In your presence they always feel they have to prove themselves. They're afraid of being ridiculed in front of you. Maybe it's…"

"At their age I dreamt of my father doing for me what I do for them. This is our time together." He growled, looking out of the corner of his eye into the area where she sat, but not directly at her, immersed in his thoughts, memories and regrets.

"I know." She whispered and her words, something about the way she said them made his lip tremble, made him lower his head in shame and cover his face with his hand, drawing in air loudly.

"They are terrified at the sight of me. Both of them. They don't love me, they just fear me. Their own father." He mouthed, his quivering voice betraying that although he tried to control himself, something about the thought had broken him.

She stood up from her seat, shaking her head, coming up to him quickly, wanting to touch his arm with her hand, but he moved away and turned his head, not wanting her to see what was happening to him.

"If you could hear with what pride and admiration they speak of you when you are not there. They so desperately want to please you." She muttered in pain, feeling a squeeze in her heart at the thought that he might have believed he was a bad father, when they both knew how hard he tried.

"To please me? My sons, they live to please me? And if they don't then what will happen to them? Hm?" He asked and fell silent, looking at her at last, his eye red with grief and despair, his face simultaneously red and pale with emotion, his lips parted in a heavy breath.

He covered his eyes with his hand as he burst into silent sobs, as if he had not stifled the thought for a day or a month, but for years, ever since their first son had been born.

She looked at him in disbelief, stunned, at the same time hurt and saddened by his words, by the thought of how he judged and perceived himself.

"Looking into my eyes do you see anything other than love?" She asked, renewing her attempt, taking a step towards him, and this time he didn't pushed her away, looking at her uncertainly.

"– it's something else –" He whispered.

"– how can it be? – do you think I would love a man who is a bad father to my children? –" She asked further, and he swallowed hard, trying to calm his breathing, his cheeks red from tears.

"– stop it –" He said and turned away, wiping his face, walking to the other side of the room, embarrassed and ashamed of his weakness.

"– sit down on the bed, husband – I want to explain a few things to you –" She finally said.

He sighed heavily and did as she asked, making room beside himself, looking down at his hands, heartbroken. She, however, walked up to him and did not sit next to him, but on his lap, surprising him by taking his warm, red face in her hands, stroking his moist skin with her thumbs.

For a moment she simply looked at him, all helpless and vulnerable, feeling the heat in her chest.

"– you're defending our family – you're the rock that protects us – you have to show strength – be determined – and that's hard when you're king and father at the same time – the burden of the crown is great and you know it – you're trying to prepare them for it –" She whispered, with each successive word placing kisses on his red face: on his forehead, his temple, his eyebrows, his eyelid, his cheekbone, his lips, his jaw.

She felt his hands involuntarily rise to her waist, stroking her through the material of her gown.

"– so why don't they understand this? – why do they push me away? –" He muttered, focusing his gaze on her full, plump lips, his manhood hidden in his breeches pulsed softly in a natural reaction to her closeness.

"– because they are still children – children who need their father to love them no matter what – a father who will sometimes let them go their own way –" She said softly, in a gentle, light motion untying the black ribbon at the back of his head, making the front strands of his silver hair fall over his shoulders.

"– I just want to spend time with them like a father with his sons – I want them to need me –" He whispered, and she nodded, letting his broad hand move her hip closer, making her body press against his.

"– I know, my husband – my sweet, sweet husband –" She whispered and heard him draw in the air loudly, surprised, his erection pulsed hard between her thighs.

She licked her lips, wondering if he was aroused by what he was hearing.

"– my husband is so good to me –" She gasped softly, letting their lips join in hot, sticky, lazy kisses, making wonderful heat surge through her body. "– my sweet friend – my sweet boy –"

She shuddered as his fingers tightened on the material of her gown, his throat leaving a sound she had never heard before.

He moaned.

Not the way he usually did, low and deep, when it was on the verge of panting, but high, the way she did when he gave her sweet pleasure.

Their fingers tightened on their bodies, letting their mouths find each other in greedy, violent, deep kisses – his cock between her thighs swelled all over and pulsed, hot, betraying that he was now completely ready to possess her.

"– I love you – please –" He muttered, forcibly ripping her gown off her shoulders, exposing her naked breasts, all swollen with milk. Something like a sigh of delight and relief left his throat as he sank his face into her sternum, his thumbs stroking and teasing her nipples hard from the cold.

She moaned as she tilted her head back, untying the material of his breeches, feeling the wonderful, pleasurable wetness between her thighs, proving that she was ready to receive him deep inside her.

"– my sweet husband deserve to be soothed – doesn't he? – to feel his beloved wife – how warm she is – how wet she is –" She whispered, cupping his swollen, quivering erection in her palm, feeling how incredibly hard it was, its tip thick and smooth, dripping with his moisture.

"– yes –" He mumbled in shame, directing one of her breasts to his face, holding it in his hand, finding her nipple with his mouth, beginning to suck it loudly along with her milk as she guided the head of his cock against her pulsing slit.

"– ah – my husband is so hard for me – makes me feel so fucking good – so, so big –" She cooed, sinking slowly onto his manhood only to lift herself on it with a loud click of her wetness, opening her thirsty, fleshy cunt again and again on his long, throbbing erection.

"– f-fuck –" He exhaled, embarrassed, imposing a fast, aggressive pace on her at once, clearly aroused by what she was saying and how she was behaving, needing her affection, her acceptance, her closeness, everything he couldn't ask of anyone else outside the door of their chamber.

"– it's all yours, my dearest – I can ride you all night – you'll fill me with your seed as many times as I need, won't you? –" She gasped, and he groaned loudly into the skin of her breasts, clamping his hot hands on her hips, pounding into her like there was no tomorrow, panting and quivering along with her.

She wasn't sure she had ever experienced a similar orgasm, so overpowering, hot, soothing, delightful.

"– f-fuck – f-fuck, Aemond, yes –" She whimpered, throwing her head back as she felt his body convulse, his warm seed filling her womb wit his low moans of pleasure.

He released her nipple from his mouth, panting heavily, snuggling his cheek into her chest, letting her arms embrace him in a tight grip, her lips placing tender, hot kisses on his hair.

"– forgive me – I'm ashamed – I –"

"– you are my husband – let me give you relief when you need it –" She whispered, combing her fingers through his long hair.

"– but – it was –"

"– a husband can show tenderness and understanding to his wife, but a wife to her husband cannot? –" She asked in pain, and he swallowed hard, letting out a loud, shuddering breath.

"– it won't happen again –" He muttered, needing, apparently, for her to tell that lie so he could stop thinking about how weak he was, how he needed it, how pleasant it was.

That he would beg in his mind for more.

More of her tenderness.

More of her praise.

More of her love.

"– as you wish –"

[annievrse]

It Only Hurts This Much Right Now / Act I

Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader  Summary: When your captain, Luffy, tells you to run from Bartholomew Kuma on the Sabaody Archipelago instead of fighting, you end up on a submarine. Takes place pre-time skip. W/C: 15k C/W: Fic structure: Sabaody Archipelago → Dressrosa spoilers, canon timeline but majority canon-divergent events, is organised into scenes, she/her pronouns, no use of y/n. Content: panic attacks, anxiety, descriptions of injuries, blood, passing out, trauma (Luffy), and Law has his death tattoos pre-time skip because I said so.

Labyrinth Series Masterlist

— Scene 1 —

“Run! Now!” 

Your legs move of their own accord, your mind screaming against your captain’s request. Bartholomew Kuma’s Paw-Paw Fruit had your crew disappearing off the Sabaody Archipelago one by one. 

With ragged breathing and a burning chest, the further you get from the grassy patch, the more your heart clenches in agony. Your family is gone, and you don’t know if they’re dead or hurt, and the thought of them being in that state has you clutching your chest. 

“Luffy!” You scream as he vanishes from sight, your voice broken, but there is nothing you can do. The Devil Fruit you’d eaten as a child feels useless against someone of this calibre, so you run, just as your captain told you to. 

The island is in an uproar of violence and fear; the only place you know to go is to the Sunny. The Straw Hats’ dear ship, who’s been waiting for its crew’s arrival, only to be left abandoned when you run directly into the back of someone. 

You stumble backwards, the sudden stop causing your legs to give out from underneath you. You land on the ground, a sharp pain in your tailbone sending shockwaves through your spine. Breathing rapidly, you scramble to stand, but not before a hand clasps around your throat. 

“Who are you?” 

The voice is deep and commanding, and you spit your name out quickly. Your vision is blurry, but you can make out the vague outline of a large man, his fiery hair sticking out in all directions. With exhausted muscles and the little strength you have left, you claw at the man’s hand, his grip tight around your neck. The man scoffs and lets you fall to the ground, the second impact on your spine hurting more than the last. 

“Kid, leave the poor girl alone.” 

You rub your temples with tender fingers where a deep pain in your skull threatens to explode. 

Kid? Where had you heard that name before? 

Your voice comes out as a whimper, your body on the cusp of failing you. A warm liquid drips from your hairline, and you pull your hand back, your fingertips crimson. Panic rises in your veins, and you’re reminded of the terrible fate your crew faces. A dull ache on your side stops you from standing, but you try to do so anyway with no success. 

“Hey, you’re with the Straw Hats, right?” 

Tears collect on your waterline at the sound of it, and your brain focuses on one key component – Straw Hat. 

“Come with me.” 

Spluttering nonsense, you try to think through the rapid rise and fall of your chest, your inhales raspy, and your exhales short. Your body doesn’t feel like your own, and as tears roll down your cheeks, you wish Kuma had given you the same fate. 

“Calm down,” The voice mumbles, hands finding purchase under your armpits to lift you off the ground. “Panicking will only make it worse.” 

“M-my crew, they’re gone.” 

“Gone?” 

You choke on a raggedy cough, your thoughts disordered. With a tightening chest, you nod. “Can’t breathe.” 

The man calls something you can’t hear, setting you back on the grass. The sudden threat of Kuma out there and possibly coming for you next has you crawling away from the man, who has his back to you, talking to someone in an orange jumpsuit. Blood drips from your head onto the grass below you, and your arms struggle to hold you. Coughing out sobs, you keep dragging yourself further from where you know Kuma is. 

“Hey.” 

“Leave me alone,” You rasp. “He’s coming.” 

“Who?” 

“Kuma,” Your heart tightens as your lips form his name. “He’s going to kill me next.” 

“Fuck.” 

And before you reach the trunk of a Yarukiman Mangrove, you’re lifted off the ground and thrown over someone’s shoulder. And despite your feeble attempts at hitting their back, you aren’t getting down. 

“Don’t take me to Kuma, please,” The plea burns your tongue as you sob, your limbs thrashing. A sharp pain shoots from your side, and you wail out. “Please, get me away from here.” 

“You’re safe, you’re free now.” Usually, you’d need proof if a strange person told you something with so much certainty; instead, you nod, and your eyes close of their own volition, exhaustion overpowering your common sense. 

— Scene 2 —

You wake with a start, gasping as you sit up. Fear claws at your consciousness and leaves goosebumps in its wake. You don’t dare speak a word. Squinting into the bright overhead lights, you realise you’re in a bed, a thin blanket pooled around your waist. An IV protrudes from your arm, and you shiver at the feeling of it inside you. 

“Oh good, you’re awake.”

Your head snaps to the other side of the room, where a tall, lean man stands over a desk. You tilt your head at his appearance, familiarity picking at your mind. It isn’t until he turns around that you gasp. It isn’t his fur hat or patterned jeans that make you recognise him, but the deep steel of his eyes. 

Trafalgar Law. 

You’d seen him inside the human auctioning house where Luffy punched a Celestial Dragon, thinking nothing of him. Sure, he was a rookie pirate with a higher bounty than your captain, 440 million berries, but he’d done nothing to prove his worth to you. 

You stare at him as he walks over, his steps lazy. Trafalgar Law’s blood runs cold, and he’s nothing short of sadistic; at least, that’s what Shakky told you. The man before you now seems to stalk you like you’re his prey, but his voice is surprisingly full of something close to friendliness when he speaks. 

“You had a panic attack, and you were severely dehydrated, hence the IV,” You blink at him, your brain processing why Trafalgar Law is standing at the end of the bed and not a doctor. “You have a deep gash on your scalp and one on the left side of your torso, too.” 

Your hand lifts to your head unconsciously, your fingertips meeting gauze. It’s obvious there’s some form of pain suppressant coursing through your veins since your body is light and your mind isn’t nearly as sharp as it should be. You curse yourself for being so weak. 

“Best try not to touch it.” 

Frowning, you lower your hand, feeling the same white fabric around your stomach. This time, you can see the dark splotches seeping through the gauze. Your lips smack softly at the dryness in your mouth, and Trafalgar gestures to the glass beside you.

“Wanna tell me your name?” 

You mumble your reply, watching him warily as you sip the drink–-water. The room is quiet, save for the muffled sound of metal clanging. 

“Where am I?” You mutter, holding the glass between your hands. 

“My ship, the Polar Tang.” 

Your stomach clenches with panic. “Why am I here?” 

“Your crew was attacked by Bartholomew Kuma. Do you remember?” 

Nodding, your eyes sting at the memory. 

“You found me and begged me to take you away.”

Your gaze hardens as you set your eyes on him. “I didn’t beg.”

“Believe me, you did.”

Setting the glass onto the bedside table, you rip the blanket off and stand from the bed, noting the discomfort of your side. 

“I know you,” You say. “You’re the guy who did nothing as my crew freed the slaves from that auction house.” 

Tilting his head, Trafalgar says nothing, though his expression is standoffish. You stand there, your body shivering involuntarily. Maybe you should’ve stayed in bed. 

“Drop me off at the next port.” 

Trafalgar clicks his tongue. “No, can do; we’re not leaving Sabaody for a few weeks.” 

Your eyes dart around the room, noticing the lack of windows.

“I know you don’t trust me,” Trafalgar says, irritation dripping from his tone. “But there was nowhere else for you to go.”

You shrink from his piercing gaze and wrap your arms around your body, being careful to avoid your injury. “How long have I been here?” 

“You’re full of questions today, aren’t you?” 

You don’t dignify him with an answer and wait for him to reply. 

“Two days.” 

Two days? “I have to leave. My crew needs me.” 

“You’re no good to anyone like this,” Trafalgar shakes his head and raises his palm before you. “Besides, you don’t even know where they are.” 

You feel like screaming and crying and throwing up all at the same time. It’s not fair. 

“I mean,” He smirks. “You could always ask Kuma where he sent them.” 

You narrow your gaze at him. “That’s not funny.” 

Trafalgar throws his hands up in false defence. “Never said it was, sweetheart. However, you can’t do anything but stay here and recover.” 

You think it over. What he says is true, but that doesn’t mean you must be useless. His nickname washes over you after you go through your options, and you roll your eyes. “Don’t call me that.”

“What? Sweetheart?” He laughs, turning away from you. “I think it’s perfect.”

You want to retort, to yell at him for patronising you at a time like this, but are interrupted when a large something rushes through the door. 

“Captain,” The polar bear says, wiping sweat from its forehead. “Kid needs to talk to you.” 

Your first thought is Chopper and how excited he’d be to meet another talking animal. Your second thought is far more depressing, and you swallow the emotion lodged in your throat. 

Trafalgar sighs and waves his hand at you. “Change her bandages.” 

The bear salutes and walks toward you as Trafalgar leaves. “Hello.” 

“Hi.” You tilt your head, knowing better than to ask questions. 

“Oh,” It looks down at itself and laughs nervously. “I’m Bepo.” 

“Bepo…”

“I’m a navigator.” 

A familiar feeling rises in your chest. “A navigator, huh?” 

“Yup, I navigate the sub,” He scratches behind his ear. “Who are you?” 

You smile and tell him your name, slotting that you’re on a submarine in the back of your mind. “I’m a seamstress for the Straw Hats.” 

Bepo’s eyes widen. “Captain said we had a guest, but I didn’t know you were a Straw Hat… Anyway, do you mind if I change your bandages?”

Your walls go up, and you glance at the white fabric around your torso. “Uh–”

“Captain had to sew you up,” Bepo says solemnly. “It was a deep cut.” 

You nod and reluctantly drop your hands by your sides. 

“Let me just— over here,” The bear stammers before rushing to the opposite wall. Usually, you can stitch yourself up. Before Chopper had joined the Straw Hats, you were the one to aid the crew. Zoro’s laceration across his abdomen, thanks to Dracule Mihawk, was your most significant job. 

So, when Bepo returns with a fresh roll of gauze and scissors, you quickly take it from his hands. “I can do this.” 

“You sure?” He asks carefully, his teeth showing as he cringes. 

You swiftly remove the old bandage, unroll the new one, and apply it just as briskly. When the gauze is tightly wrapped around you, you notice Bepo watching in astonishment.

“Are you hungry?” He splutters, eyes still trained on your torso. You guess he’s not the best with blood. 

Your stomach rumbles at the sound of food, and Bepo laughs softly. You cover your stomach as you feel your cheeks warm. 

“Penguin made rice balls, Captain’s favourite. You’re welcome to have some,” Bepo says, walking to the door. He seems to have forgotten about your injury. 

You nod, but before following, you stick your hand out. “Can I take this out?” 

The bear turns around at record speed, his eyes honing in on the needle sticking out of your wrist. “Uh, Captain might kill you.”

You pull your hand to your chest. “Why?” 

“Captain does all the medical stuff; he’s a doctor. He wouldn’t want to take it out, b—but if it’s uncomfortable, I can take it out for you.” 

“He’s a doctor?” 

Bepo nods. “And a surgeon.” 

His large paws hold your hand delicately. “Okay, this is fine.”

You give him a wary look, letting him take it out despite the fact you can do it yourself. “You’ve never done this before.”

“I-I have, just not on people,” He splutters. “Captain makes me practice with fruit.” 

Smirking, you watch the needle slide out from under your skin. 

“Done. Let’s go.” 

You shake your arm before inspecting the area. Bepo is already in the hallway when you decide to follow him.

“This is the infirmary, obviously,” He says, then points to the other end of the hall. “That’s the Captain’s quarters.”

You nod, though you doubt you’ll need to remember the layout since you’re leaving soon. 

You follow Bepo up the stairs as he talks about the submarine, how it works, how he navigates underwater, and how it doesn’t implode. It’s all very fascinating, and you can tell Bepo is passionate about his job on the Polar Tang, but you can’t help but think about your own navigator— 

“—and this is the kitchen.” 

— how she knows the weather patterns like it's a part of her, how she draws her maps with such detail that it shocks you every time you get your hands on one, how you gossip with her until your cook pesters you to try his new dish. 

And then you’re being introduced to the Polar Tang’s cook, and it feels like an iron grip on your esophagus.

“This is Penguin,” Bepo says, pointing at a guy wearing a hat. You give him a wave, though it's half-assed, and you regret it immediately. 

“Hi,” You smile, trying your best to push the memories out of your head and make up for the lazy greeting. 

“Rice ball?” He asks, handing you said food on a plate. 

You take it graciously, thanking him for the snack. 

“How’re you feeling?” A new voice calls. You turn to see another man with a hat, but his sunglasses make him different from Penguin. 

It takes you a second to swallow the rice. “Been better.” 

“Oh, that’s Shachi,” Bepo says before turning to the man. “Would be nice if you introduced yourself.” 

Shachi shrugs and returns to his own rice ball. 

“I’m here too,” A large man mumbles. 

“Jean-Bart,” Bepo gasps. “He’s new. Just joined.”

You nod, finishing your rice ball. 

“I see you’ve met some of the crew.” Trafalgar’s voice makes you freeze. You wipe your lips and turn to face him. There’s a katana propped on his shoulder, and you take a moment to study it. 

Zoro’s face and stupid laugh pop into your head, and then you’re chewing the inside of your cheek. 

“I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping,” Trafalgar says, leaving the kitchen. You tug your eyebrows together and follow him. 

“I’m leaving soon.”

He ignores you and continues down the stairs and past the infirmary. From Bepo’s description of this floor, the only two rooms are the clinic and the Captain’s quarters, and considering Trafalgar is the captain, you deduce that you’ll be close to him. 

The thought makes you cringe. 

He stops before the final door and opens it. 

“Ikkaku stays in the other room.” He says it like you know who that is and ushers you inside. “She’s away at the moment.”

Stepping inside, you realise there are more doors. Three are on the right, and two are on the left in the smaller hallway. He stands close behind you. 

“Your room is through the second door on the right. Make yourself comfortable. We’re going into Sabaody tonight.” 

And when you turn to ask Trafalgar Law if this is some kind of joke, he’s gone. 

You should put a bell on him. 

The women’s room is more extensive than you expected, considering there’s only one woman onboard. You peer around corners and keep your footfalls light as you explore, not wanting to snoop in Ikkaku’s stuff accidentally. 

There’s an empty room next to the bathroom. Stepping inside, you realise that the warm light of the bedside lamp and the half-full bookcase in the corner make it seem almost homey. The bed is lush when you sit and run your fingertips over the quilt. What is going on?

Despite being alert, the comfort of the room allows you to let your guard down, and the feeling alone makes you want to close your eyes. Only for a moment do you let yourself pretend everything is fine. Luffy runs laps around Sanji as he prepares the fish he’s caught. Nami and Robin are lounging on the deck, and Zoro’s asleep against the mast. Franky’s tinkering with something under the deck with Usopp, and Brook keeps them company with his violin. You’re sitting on the railing of the Thousand Sunny with your legs swinging back and forth as you chat with Chopper, fixing a patch to the underside of his hat where one of Usopp’s inventions blew it off his head. 

It was meant to be a sleepless dream, yet you fall victim to the clutches of darkness and dreamless sleep. 

— Scene 3 —

You feel sick. Your mouth is dry, and your head is full of cotton. The last thing you remember is laughing at Chopper’s attempt at imitating Sanji. 

The isolated room is a punch in the gut, a harsh reality that beats the dream in your head to a bloody pulp. You swallow thickly and sit up from the bed. You don’t know the time since a submarine has no windows, and the actuality of where you are is a cruel reminder of your situation. 

You rub your eyes with your sore knuckles hard, ignoring the countless stars that cloud your vision when you drop your hands to your lap. There’s no sound from outside the door, and when you really concentrate, there’s no muffled noise from the level above either. 

You groan at the dull throbbing of your side but forget about it when your eye catches on a white jumpsuit hanging from the door handle. You endure the disgust that coats your tongue. 

Before you know it, you’re up and snatching the suit from the handle. You swing the door open, not bothering to care that it slams against the wall, and make a beeline to the infirmary. You only know he’s in there because the overhead light is on. 

Trafalgar has his hat off and a lab coat on. He’s pulling a latex glove onto his hand when you enter. 

“What is this?” You spit, holding the jumpsuit up. Trafalgar’s head turns toward you, his face barren of any emotion. “I’m not one of your pirates.”

“When you’re on my sub, you wear it.” 

Scoffing, you throw it onto a cot. “I’m a Straw Hat.” 

“You’re on my ship.” 

“Against my will.” You know it’s unfair, but the words spill from you anyway. 

Trafalgar shakes his head, a small laugh falling from his lips. He returns to his work before him on the metal table. “I’m not arguing with you right now. How’s your wound?” 

You ignore his question. “Well, when can you fit me into your busy schedule to argue, Traffy?” 

His unamused glance sends shivers down your spine, but he doesn’t bite. 

“It’s a safety precaution.” He says, lifting a jar to his face to inspect it. 

You look down at your clothes and the gauze around you and sigh. Your head is still fuzzy from your nap, and fighting him will get you nowhere, you can tell that much. It’s safe to say that Trafalgar Law gets under your skin, and not just because he’s a surgeon. 

“Not happening,” You shake your head and step back. “I’m not a part of your crew.” 

“As you’ve said,” Trafalgar utters, his voice tinged with irritation. “Fine.” 

Your face softens at the finality of his tone. 

“But when you’re wandering around Sabaody, don’t come running to me when someone attempts to cash in the bounty on your head. You stand out.” 

You smile, your pride overpowering any other emotion for a second. “You’ve done your research.” 

“370 million berries,” He states, turning around. “But I have yet to see why.” 

Your expression sours, and you spin toward the door to leave. “Goodnight, Trafalgar.” 

He says nothing as you swipe a new gauze roll from the shelf next to the entrance and shut the door behind you. 

“Asshole,” You mumble, flexing your hands to stretch out the fists you didn’t realise you’d been sporting—perhaps it’s best that you didn’t lose control of your powers in front of him. The walk back to your room is short, choosing to go to the bathroom before heading back to bed. 

After poking around in the bathroom for an hour, you exit with a towel around you, again noticing the lack of noise on the ship. It is eerily silent as you redress in your old clothes, but once you’re done, you see a new set of clothes on the bed. 

When did they get there? 

You hold the new top, noticing the size is slightly off. Sighing, you move your fingers in a certain way to change the width and length of the garment. “Sew.” 

Seams pop, and new ones are made until the ill-fitting clothes resize to fit you perfectly. You hum in contentment and place them on the chair in the corner of the room. 

You wrap your wound with new gauze, thanks to the roll you stole earlier, but the pain suppressants are wearing off, and the pain is beginning to seep through. Your gaze catches on the new clothes, and despite the bloodstains and dirt patches on the clothes you wear now, you decide you feel more comfortable in them than the foreign ones in the corner. 

Laying on the bed, your eyes close almost instantly. The emotion you feel from earlier and the spat with Trafalgar has tired you. You thought it’d be difficult to fall asleep in such ghostly silence, but when the blanket covers you, you’re dreaming about your crew again. 

—

It’s only slight, but the knock that comes from outside of your door startles you. You’ve been awake for hours, picking through the books on the shelf and thinking about how you were leaving Sabaody when it happened. 

Your name is low on his lips when he speaks it, and your heart jumps at the sound of it. 

“Come in.” 

The door opens slowly, like Trafalgar’s nervous about what he’ll find. 

“How’re you feeling?” 

You glance at your stomach and shrug. “Achy.” 

Trafalgar nods, standing awkwardly in the doorway, one of his hands digging in the pocket of his jeans. “I brought you some pills for the pain.” 

The bottle is small, but it's full of medication. You thank him, screwing the cap and emptying two into your palm. The air is thick with tension, but not the good kind. What he said earlier in the evening still rings in your mind. 

“I’ll show you why my bounty is so high when I’m ready, okay?” 

Trafalgar eyes you warily. “Okay…” 

“Thanks for bringing these,” You gesture to the tablets in your palm, trying to diffuse the tension. “Maybe I’ll be able to sleep properly.”

“You’re having trouble?” Trafalgar scratches his chin halfway out the door. 

“Not bad,” You lie, waving your hand in dismissal. “Just nightmares and stuff. About Kuma and my crew and drowning in a submarine.” 

You don’t know why you’re talking to him like this, exposing your fears, like he’s a Straw Hat, but something about his mellow demeanour is comforting. His shy eyes and shadow of a smile starkly contrast to the man you spoke to earlier in the night. 

“Well, I know that this submarine isn’t going to sink, spring a leak, or implode, so you can scratch that off your list of fears.” 

His good-natured humour surprises you despite his cold look. “Take two every four hours, and the pain should be almost absent.” 

You nod, realising he’s talking about the medication. Taking the glass from the bedside table, you wash the pills down. 

“Goodnight, Trafalgar.” 

“Night,” He murmurs, whispering your name afterwards. 

You open your mouth to say something else, anything else, when he beats you to it.

“By the way,” Trafalgar says, his voice oddly soft. “The situation with your crew will only hurt this much now. As the days pass, it’ll get better.”

He shuts the door behind him, and you stare at it like he still lingers there. 

You can’t help but believe him. 

— Scene 4 —

Bepo looks at you oddly from across the table. 

It’s the next morning, and he’d informed you the day before in his tour that breakfast was at eight am sharp. It wasn’t until you heard the first sound above you that you’d studied the clothes given to you with such caution that you thought yourself ridiculous before sighing and putting them on. You’d shoved your feet into your shoes and trudged upstairs to the dining room, where Penguin shovelled various foods onto your plate without asking your preference and sent you to the table where you sit now. 

“What?” You ask Bepo, moving pieces of your breakfast around your plate. 

Bepo jumps at your voice, suddenly finding the fish before him extremely interesting. “Nothing.” 

Twisting your lips, you feel bad for catching him off guard. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t apologise,” The navigator shakes his head. “It’s just that you’re not wearing a boiler suit.”

“Oh,” You mumble, looking down at yourself. Maybe you should’ve worn your own clothes. 

“It’s not a bad thing,” Bepo interjects quickly, noticing the look on your face. 

“Yeah, never a bad thing,” Shachi comments from the other end of the table. 

Bepo gasps. “Ignore him.” 

You give him a small smile. 

“It's just that the only person who doesn’t wear one is Captain Law. It’s just odd seeing someone else aboard not wearing one, is all.”

“Alright,” A familiar voice says from the doorway. “We’re going onto Sabaody. Get your shit together and meet out the front.” 

You watch the Heart Pirates scramble to finish their meals, stacking their plates beside the sink as they exit the room. Soon enough, you’re sitting at the table on your own. 

“You’re welcome to join us,” Trafalgar says. “Just stay close.” 

“I’m good here,” You don’t turn to look at him. “Not looking to cause any problems.” 

He sighs. “Do you need anything?” 

You think it over, deciding to take his question literally. What you need is to get off this island and find your crew, to get to the Sunny and go to Fishman Island, like the original plan. Instead, you’re on a submarine, docked on the island where your crew went missing without knowing how to get them back. Your words are bitter as they leave you, but you don’t regret them. 

“What I need is impossible for you to get.” 

“Are you always this melodramatic?” 

His quip surprises you. Your chair scrapes against the metal floor as you stand. You narrow your eyes at him as you walk to the sink and put your plate on the top of the stack. “Are you always this big of a dick?” 

“Only when someone is being difficult. It’s not hard to accept help, you know. Or is that against the rules of the Straw Hats?” 

You blink at him in shock, your voice low as you approach him. You can feel the power of your Devil Fruit tingling under your skin. “You know nothing about me or my crew.” 

“Yet, I can read you like a book,” Trafalgar laughs, looking down at you. “I see you fit in the clothes fine.”

“Are you done?” You scowl, your fingers moving into their usual position when your powers are in use. It’s difficult to control yourself around him. At least you got your answer as to where the clothes came from. You don’t have it in you to thank him right now. 

Adjusting the katana on his shoulder, Trafalgar sighs, lifting a finger to move the needle that materialised before his nose. “Let’s get out of here, hm?” 

You gasp at the sight of one of your needles, regret swimming in your eyes. The needle vanishes like it was never there as you grab hold of your ability. “I’m so sorry.” 

He turns around, ignoring your apology. “I see.” 

“See what?” You ask, breathless at your lack of control. Your feet carry you after him, seemingly having a mind of their own. 

“You ate a Devil Fruit.” 

You don’t care that he’s leading you outside. “What if I did?” 

When the breeze hits his face, Trafalgar stops, and you almost run into his back. “I want to see what it does.” 

You swallow thickly. “No.” 

Being outside, on Sabaody, makes your chest hurt. You try to push down the emotions clouding your vision and circle Trafalgar to stand before him. 

“No?” 

You nod once. “I’m not a circus animal.” 

“You say you’re not a lot of things, sweetheart,” He says. “When can I hear about something you are?” 

His words are honeyed, and you refrain from shivering. “I am pissed off at you.” 

His eyebrow quirks up at you. “Now we’re getting somewhere.” 

Ignoring him, you turn. “I’m going to get some supplies, don’t follow me.” 

“I thought you were good here… but, unfortunately, sweetheart, I wasn’t planning on it,” Trafalgar mutters. “Just stay low, okay? There are pirates and marines everywhere. No matter where you are, they’ll be there too.”

You acknowledge his warning and turn to leave, but the call of your name from his lips has you glancing over your shoulder. 

“Try not to open your wound, okay? Don’t need you dying on me.” 

— Scene 5 —

When Trafalgar told you there were marines everywhere, you thought he exaggerated. Surely they wouldn’t be around every corner, store, on every rooftop…

Now, you know better than to doubt his judgment. The screaming of civilians and the sound and vibration of explosions have your heart leaping every few minutes in fear. 

“Shit,” You curse as you jump into another alleyway. A group of Marines run past, and your heart beats in sync with their footsteps. 

A trip to the town is more complicated than you thought. Shoving your hand in your pocket, you fish out fifty berries and whine silently when you realise how little you have to spend. 

You don’t want to, but Nami’s tips on stealing and bargaining cross your mind. Thieving on Sabaody Archipelago seems like a foolish thing to do—there’s no way you’d get away with it with all the Marines on duty. Rolling your eyes, you step from the street and onto the main strip. 

When nobody jumps you, you make your way to the closest store. It's dark inside the building, but you use that to your advantage and slide various small items into your pockets. The aisles are empty; the only person in sight is the cashier, an elderly man with horns. 

Trafalgar’s words swim in your mind as you wander down the aisles. 

Don’t need you dying on me… I can read you like a book… 

His mood swings give you a headache; you’ve only known him a day. You couldn’t imagine having him as your captain. Despite Luffy’s carefree attitude, he’d never get smart like that, and he would never call you melodramatic. Hell, he wouldn't even know what melodramatic means. 

The thought of your own captain has your stomach sinking, but then your skin is burning at the sheer audacity of Trafalgar Law. Bepo seems to have a high tolerance for his captain, and you guess that skill only develops with time. You scowl at the thought of spending more time with Trafalgar than you have to. You sure hope your crew makes it back here soon. 

But, your mind is so focused on the captain of the Heart Pirates that it isn’t until you’re at the counter, paying for three rolls of gauze and a box of rice cakes, that the newspaper beside the counter catches your attention. 

PORTGAS D. ACE TO BE PUBLICLY EXECUTED

You stare at the headline. It takes a moment for the words to sink in. Ace. Executed. 

“Miss?” 

Blinking once, you drop the berries onto the counter, snatch the newspaper from the stand, and run out of the store with it pressed to your chest. 

No, no, no. 

At a time when your captain needs you most, you’re not there. No tears well at your waterline; only panic has you in its steel clutches. 

You sprint back to the Polar Tang, your legs burning and your mind racing. You don’t dare look at the paper again until you're safe in the room you’re staying in. Throwing it on the bed, you finally look over the details. 

The World Government has captured Fire Fist Ace…. The renowned pirate Blackbeard has been invited to become a Warlord…the execution has been set to be at Marineford in one week… 

Shaking your head in disbelief, you refuse to believe the printed words. You scrunch the paper in your hand and fly from the room into the infirmary. 

Trafalgar is nowhere to be found. 

“Please,” You plea as you run up the stairs and into the kitchen. “Hello?” 

The Polar Tang is empty. 

Your voice echoes off the cold metal, and you sink to your knees. A sharp pain rolls through you, and you look down at your stomach to see the bandages soaked in blood. The sight makes your head feel light. Your heart rate rapidly inclines, and the kitchen spins before your eyes, the adrenaline coursing through your veins tapering off. With shaky hands, you unfurl the newspaper. 

Where’s Trafalgar now? Where are the words he spoke to you last night? It only hurts this much right now? It’s not getting better, only worse. Why would he lie?

Despite your racing thoughts, the only name on your mind and tongue is Luffy before you pass out, and your head hits the metal floor of the common area with a dull thud. 

— Scene 6 —

“I’m starting to get Deja vu, sweetheart.”

You groan when you hear his voice. 

“I thought I told you not to die yet,” Trafalgar mumbles, urgency in his tone. “Never mind, the war’s started.” 

War?

“What war?” You slur, squeezing your eyes shut against the overhead lights. You feel exposed, and when you peer down at your body, you see a blue gown covering you. 

“Your body has undergone immense trauma, both physically and mentally,” He ignores your question. “It's been a few days since Bepo found you bleeding out in the kitchen.” 

You blink, covering your eyes with your hands. “What’s going on?” 

“You were comatose, close to death. You’re stable now, but I thought I told you not to reopen your wound and—” 

“Not with me,” You sit up, your eyes still hurting. “With the war.” 

Sighing harshly, Trafalgar sits on a chair beside the bed, resting his forearms on his knees. You turn to look at him, noticing his sleeves have been pushed up to his elbows. On his arms lay stark tattoos, the ink trailing down to his hands and then his knuckles. 

EATH

You open your mouth to ask about its meaning but aren’t quick enough.

“Whitebeard’s at Marineford. We’re on our way there now.” 

You furrow your eyebrows, finally comprehending the grinding and clanging of metal around you. “Why?” 

“Portgas D. Ace’s execution is today.”

The name makes you lurch, and you scold yourself for thinking about asking Trafalgar about his tattoos. How foolish. 

“What’s wrong? Is it your wound?”

“He’s Luffy’s brother,” You whisper, dread flooding you. “Why are we going?” 

Trafalgar gives up on your health when he realises you won’t tell him anything about it, but the information that Luffy is Ace’s brother catches his attention. “It would be a shame for a rival to die this early.”

“Rival? Ace is a rival?” 

Trafalgar lets out a humourless laugh. “Monkey D. Luffy is a rival.” 

You’re speechless. Wholly and utterly silent at his declaration. Your mouth opens and closes as you try to form the words your brain wants you to say but to no avail. 

He shrugs when he sees you attempt to say something. “We’re pirates, or did you forget that?” 

The idea that you could be here for shifty reasons hits you all at once. Sure, you’d thought about it when you woke up the first time, grateful that a pirate was willing to save you, to put their life on the line to help another pirate. But you were a fool for thinking it was out of the goodness of his heart. 

That’s why it all spills out when you open your mouth this time. “Why keep me alive, then? I’m a pirate from an opposing crew with a bounty of over three hundred million berries. Why not kill me and cash it in?” 

“You could be useful.” 

“Useful.” The word is bitter on your tongue. Useful, not as an addition to a pirate crew, but as a weapon to wield against the people you love. Who was that man from your first night here? Does he exist under the facade of Trafalgar Law? Or was it all a lie?

“You know…” He ponders, running his tongue over his teeth. “Leverage.” 

“Huh,” You smile fakely, disdain morphing your expression. “So, that’s all I’m good for?” 

“Right now? Yes.” 

Your hand flicks up before you know what you’re doing. The act of sewing his lips shut fills you with such jubilation that you can’t help but smile a genuine smile. The black thread of your power has Trafalgar rising instantly, the chair he was on flying out behind him. 

“You may be Trafalgar Law,” You say lowly. “But I’m not a pawn.”

Trafalgar claws at his lips before sticking one hand out. A blue dome covers the room, and you feel an odd sensation in your chest. It feels as though your heart is being ripped out of your chest. You scream in agony, most likely ripping the stitches in your side as you clutch at your breast. The IV needle in your hand tears through your skin, and your blood spills onto the gown you wear, soaking through it. 

Trafalgar gestures wildly at you, screaming through his closed lips as the threads tighten. You’re unknowingly making them taut, suffocating him. He staggers, the trolley that houses the surgical equipment rolling away as he falls to the ground. Scalpels and scissors clatter to the ground, the infirmary turning into a place of chaos.

His face is red, close to purple when you see it, a blue cube with a fist-sized organ inside it. Your heart. 

“What the…” Your brain seems to forget the pain when you see your lifeline in the hand of Trafalgar Law. 

You’re in such a state of shock that you loosen and remove the thread from his lips, your body falling limply onto the pillows behind you.

“What the fuck?” His voice is hoarse. “Are you insane?” 

“Are you?” You ask pathetically, still trying to process what you just witnessed. 

He doesn’t answer, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his lungs trying to take in as much oxygen as possible. He leans his back against the cupboards, his legs bent in front of him. The blue cube hangs from his fingertips behind his knees. 

You yelp in surprise and paw at the empty slot in your chest. 

“Give me my heart back,” You don’t know what you’re saying. How could he have your heart? 

Trafalgar pushes himself back to his full height, his breathing still ragged but quiet. “What Devil Fruit did you eat? They’re not strings, that’s impossible.” 

“What?” You ask absentmindedly, still occupied with the phenomenon of your open chest. 

“What are your powers?” He presses, staring at you. 

“The Sew-Sew Fruit.”

“Sew-Sew Fruit…” 

“I have thread and needles and shit, okay,” Your breathing starts to go rigid. “Where’s my heart?” 

“You suffocated me, that’s—”

“Trafalgar!” Tears roll down your cheeks. “Where is my heart?”

His body goes still, and the terror in your eyes is enough for him to lift it and slot it back into your body. The sound of blood rushing through you is loud, and you can feel the blood in your veins. The first beat of your heart back in your chest is painful but quickly dissipates as your body recognises it as its own. It’s an experience you never want to endure again. 

You scramble away from him, climbing onto the floor and pressing your back against the furthest cabinet. 

“Careful of your wound,” Trafalgar mutters, his gaze glazed with concern. His face has returned to its standard shade, and he rubs his chest. 

“I don’t care.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

The apology should shock you, but you shake your head in disbelief. “What was that?” 

He swallows thickly. “I ate the Op-Op Fruit. I can control all matter within the range of my room.” 

“This room?” Your hand lands on your side, the pain returning. 

“This room,” He says, lifting his hand. “Room.” 

And as before, a blue dome covers you, and you stare at the ceiling in wonder, though you’re confused about how you could be so fascinated at something that almost killed you. 

“Op-Op…” 

“So, what does yours do?”

“I have sew,” You gesture with one hand. “Which you saw, that controls threads, and needles, which controls, well, needles. Sew can be used to stitch up wounds, trap people, and, you know, tie them up, strangulation. Whereas with needles, I can produce giant ones for stabbing and stuff.”

Law hums. “That’s a simple way of putting it…”

A smile you can only believe came from the deepest depths of your soul spreads across your cheeks. “No wonder your bounty’s so high.” 

“And I now see why yours is so high.” 

You feel your body relax when Trafalgar retracts his room. “I’m sorry.” 

He shakes his head. “I deserved that. I was being a dick.”

“You were being a dick,” Your lips quirk. “But I was way out of line. I know we’re pirates, but—”

“What happened? I heard screaming,” Bepo barges into the infirmary, the door slamming against the wall. 

You shake your head in dismissal. “Nothing, I just fell.” 

Trafalgar’s eyebrows twitch when he looks at you. You could’ve easily told Bepo his captain almost killed you, but you couldn’t tell him you almost killed his captain, too. 

“Oh,” The bear sighs. “Are you okay?”

You nod, pushing yourself off the ground to stand. “Thanks for checking in.” 

Bepo smiles before speaking to Trafalgar. “Captain.” 

“What is it?” He asks, turning so his back is to you both. 

“We’ll be docking soon. The waters are rough around Marineford.” 

“Understandable,” Trafalgar mutters. “Get the crew ready to retrieve Straw Hat.” 

Bepo nods and quickly leaves. 

“We’re retrieving him?” 

Trafalgar sighs. “I told you, a rival can’t die this early. We’re rookies, we have to protect each other until the new age surpasses the old.” 

His words have a strange intonation of leadership as if he feels responsible for Luffy. And maybe it's the underlying knowledge that he feels like your captain could be useful to him, but for now, you’re grateful he’s willing to help him. 

“That’s sweet.”

Trafalgar narrows his eyes at you. “Get ready to resurface. We won’t have much time.” 

You look down at your bloody gown and hurry to your bedroom, your stomach churning with both excitement and dread. Excitement for seeing Luffy, dread for everything else.

— Scene 7 —

“Hurry up!” Trafalgar yells to his crew. “We get Straw Hat out of there and leave.” 

“Yes, Captain.” The response is a collective voice, and you stand in the corner, nursing your wound. You would’ve rather done it in the privacy of the infirmary or your bedroom, but with Luffy so close, you don’t care if the men see you. 

“Only Bepo, Penguin, Shachi, Jean-Bart, and I will be on deck, the rest of you are on standby, given things go to shit.” 

Another collective, yes, Captain, rolls through the common area. You’re on the verge of yelling that you’re going with them when Trafalgar finds your gaze and nods once, confirming that you’ll be there too. 

Swallowing, you inhale sharply. Your wound is secure, and you can feel your power surge through you, just in case. 

The submarine lurches, and then the crew rushes to their stations—some to the boiler room (you learnt was below your bedroom), others to the control room, and more to prepare the infirmary. It’s a practised procedure, and the tension around you reminds you of your own crew. 

Trafalgar clears his throat, and you turn to see him before you. “Be careful up there, okay? We don’t need you more injured.” 

You laugh. “Care about me, huh?” 

He clears his throat. “Just need my leverage to be in good shape if i’m to negotiate with Straw Hat.” 

You want to roll your eyes but don’t. You swear it hurt him to say that from the set of his jaw. 

Before you can ponder it, you notice Bepo taking the stairs up to the main door. 

There’s no time to be thinking about him. Luffy is your top priority.  

“Are we there?” 

Trafalgar glances over his shoulder to follow your gaze. “Yeah. Come on.”

You can hear the chaos before you see it. It's a cacophony of cannonballs, gruff wails of anguish, and the distorted sound of bones shattering. 

Bepo pushes the door open, and the wind hits you in the face. The air is thick with rot, burning flesh, and salt, and you cover your nose before you gag. 

“Welcome to the battlefield,” Bepo says. He means it as a joke, but it's utterly morbid.

Far away, chatter erupts when you step onto the deck. Marineford is seemingly silent at the arrival of the submarine. Blood sprays in the distance, accompanied by strangled cries and all you want to do is crouch down and cover your ears like a child. You can’t imagine Luffy here. 

“Hey!” Trafalgar yells, and your attention is turned to the floating bodies in the sky. You recognise who it is immediately and run to the front of the deck. 

“Luffy!” You scream, your eyes catching on his unconscious body. You feel yourself gag at the mangled state of his chest, but when you look at who is holding him, you’re stumbling over your own feet. “Buggy?” 

“Hey!” The clown yells, his eyes wide. “Hey, I remember you! You’re that girl who sewed my arms to my legs back in Loguetown! Why are you here?” 

Trafalgar snorts beside you, brushing off the rest of Buggy’s questions.“Quick, hand over Straw Hat.”

“I don’t take orders from you! Besides, what do you want with him?” Buggy asks. “Who even are you? What are you doing with the girl from Straw Hat’s crew?” 

Trafalgar ignores him, lips pursed. “Just hand him over, he’ll die without my help. I’m a doctor.” 

You notice the Fishman Buggy holds under his other arm. “Who is that…?” 

“Doctor, my ass! No doctor carries around a sword that big,” Buggy cries. 

“I don’t have time for your shit, clown. Hand over Straw Hat.” 

“But, what’s in it for me? You’re just a —”

The familiar high-pitched sound of a cannonball makes your heart leap. “Trafalgar…” 

“Uh, Captain,” Shachi calls, his voice wobbly. “Navy battleships are approaching the stern.” 

“Fuck,” Trafalgar curses. “Hurry up! Give him to me!” 

Four more cannon fires can be heard before the sub rocks violently from the impact. 

“Captain, we’re almost in their firing range!” 

The wind from a cannonball landing so close to the sub has you panicking. “Quick, Buggy!” 

“Don’t you start bossing me around, little lady,” The clown screams, his voice cut short when you feel the submarine lean dangerously to the left.  

“What’s going on?” Bepo yells, holding onto the railing. 

“Oh, fuck,” Trafalgar says, looking to where Buggy floats. You follow his gaze, your body freezing at the sight of Kizaru. “Drop him now!” 

“Fine!” Buggy exclaims, throwing Luffy and the Fishman down to the deck. The clown yells more nonsense, but you don’t care to listen. Your heart is in your throat as you watch them fall. 

“Jean-Bart, quick, they’re coming.” 

The large man raises his arms and catches them as Trafalgar yells, “Submerge.” 

You run inside, going down to the infirmary. The submarine lurches, and you grab ahold of the handrail to stop yourself from stumbling down the stairs. You enter the infirmary, dodging crew members as they prepare for the worst. 

Trafalgar and Bepo are nowhere to be seen, but you can hear shouting down the hall. 

“Prepare for surgery!” 

You slip into the corner of the room as the Heart Pirates file inside. The only evidence you get of Luffy is the glimpses of his bloody body. You cover your mouth with your hand at the state of him. 

“Set up for a transfusion! He’s lost a lot of blood.” 

The main door to the submarine slams shut, and the metal walls vibrate from the jolt. You wait with bated breath as the crew rushes around the room, sticking needles in Luffy’s arms and opening sterile equipment. 

It’s captivating how fast Traflagar’s crew prepares Luffy and the Fishman for surgery. If it weren’t Luffy, you’d find it exhilarating. 

Footfalls down the hall grab your attention, and soon, Bepo and the Heart Pirates Captain are entering the infirmary. Trafalgar holds something in his grasp, but you’re too engrossed in Luffy to realise what he shoves in your hands. 

“Keep this safe for him, okay, sweetheart?” 

You draw your attention away and look up at Trafalgar before noticing the familiar straw of Luffy’s hat between your fingers. Nodding, you curl your lips between your teeth to stop your emotions from teetering over. 

He walks away, taking white latex gloves from Penguin and putting them on. Trafalgar looks over the Fishman. 

“He’s been shot through the stomach… amazing he’s still breathing.”  

Finally, the last tube is inserted down Luffy’s throat, and you hold your breath while you wait for Trafalgar’s assessment. 

“Straw Hat’s injuries are fairly severe, too,” He says. “But I think his emotional trauma is the real issue.” 

Your heart skips a beat. Ace. 

“Do they need anaesthesia?” Penguin asks from the corner. Your jaw clenches at the mere thought that they wouldn’t. 

“No, Straw Hat is close to comatose, and the Fishman is unconscious. They won’t feel a thing.” 

Your mouth falls open. “But, Trafalgar—”

“It’s gonna be a fun operation, yeah?” 

His words make you feel sick. “Hey—”

“Get her outta here,” Trafalgar says, waving his hand in dismissal. 

“Yes, Captain,” Bepo mumbles, walking over to you. 

“Bepo—”

“Captain’s orders,” He says tightly. “I’m sorry.” 

You shake your head, your hands clutching Luffy’s hat to your chest. “I can’t leave him—”

“You have to; he’ll be just fine.” 

“But—”

The door to the infirmary closes behind you and Bepo, and you're at a loss for words. There’s no use screaming about it, Trafalgar needs to concentrate. 

“Stay here until I come and get you, okay?” 

Bepo smiles sadly at you before he leaves you in your room. Now that you’re alone and the adrenaline of helping Luffy has worn off your wound throbs. Groaning in pain, you limp to the bedside table and swallow four pills. 

The sub is silent, except for the relentless beeping down the hall. 

Suddenly, the sub rocks uncontrollably. Screaming ensues from the infirmary, and panic clutches at your chest. You stagger and fall to the bed, instantly rolling off when the sub jumps. 

“Bepo!”

Crying echoes down the hall as he races to your room. Your door swings open, and Bepo falls inside, rolling on the floor beside you. “Aokiji’s turning the ocean to ice!” 

The submarine surges forward, going faster and deeper. The rocking calms down, and Bepo knocks his forehead on the floor. “No more stress, please.” 

You sigh out a nervous laugh at where you lay on the floor. The sub jolts again; this time, it isn’t until the ship starts swerving that Bepo cries out. “We got lucky once. Now we’re really gonna die!” 

“We’re not going to die,” You say, trying to keep your voice even. “Just hold on.” 

Bepo whimpers, and before he can do as you say, he rolls into the other wall. Your name falls from his mouth in a whine, his eyes closing with dizziness. You cringe with pain, your body slamming into the leg of the bedframe. 

Finally, the sub evens out, but you can tell you’re going extremely fast. The door squeaks on its hinges when it opens. 

“You guys okay?” 

You lift your head to see Penguin panting with his hand on the doorframe. 

“Never better,” Bepo murmurs, his paws scratching the metal floor. 

You nod and attempt to stand, your hand over your wound. “How’s Luffy?” 

Penguin stands taller. “Surgery’s going fine. Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, just a bit dizzy,” You say, knowing your skin will be marred with bruises. You don’t tell him of the sharp pain in your temple. “Are we safe?” 

He visibly swallows. “Should be. Jean-Bart says nothing is attacking us now.” 

“Thank you, Gods,” Bepo whines in happiness, pushing himself back to his full height. “I’m going back to the infirmary. I need an ice pack.” 

You and Penguin watch Bepo leave, his legs wobbly. 

“Do you need anything?” Penguin asks, his eyes trained on where your hand presses against your side. 

“Should be fine, thanks.” 

He gives you a tight-lipped smile before exiting. You sit on the bed, lifting your shirt to inspect your wound. 

It’s bloody, and it's clear your stitches have come undone again. When will you catch a break?

Taking a deep breath, you unravel the bandage. Once the soiled gauze is off, you look away, feeling queasy. You move your fingers against your skin, not needing to look when your power starts. “Sew.” 

There’s no sensation when your needle pierces your skin and begins sewing you up. It's a painless procedure, one you’ve done one too many times, but a minuscule part of you wishes it were Traflagar’s nimble fingers threading a needle and cotton through you. It isn’t a welcomed thought, though you don’t curse yourself for thinking such things. You blame the minor blood loss and continue staring at the floor as you sew yourself back together. 

— Scene 8 —

You don’t know how you keep finding yourself in these positions, causing yourself unnecessary pain for the sake of others. Though, you can’t help it this time. 

Luffy is recovering in the infirmary after his surgery. It’s been four days since Trafalgar finished his procedures on your captain and the Fishman, who you have now learnt is Jinbe, a former Warlord. 

You’re outside the door, in the hallway, your backside hurting from sitting in the same position on the metal floor for a few hours. Your neck aches, and your back needs a stretch, but you feel guilty about getting up. You refuse to leave with your captain unconscious and without a specific timeframe of when he will wake. He went through hell in an attempt to save his brother, who you’d met once in Alabasta, and it wasn’t fair that he had to endure that while you were sealed inside a submarine with another crew. 

Trafalgar said it was unfair that you felt like this, and it took time for you to believe him. The past four days have been full of anxiety and tears, but you finally pulled yourself together to see Luffy without having a breakdown. You can feel sweat dripping down the side of your face, but leave it to do so, and you draw your knees to your chest and lean your forehead on your knees. 

“It’s too hot down here,” Bepo complains from down the hall. He’s on the floor, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as Penguin and Shachi watch him with apprehension. “I’m going to fade away. Goodbye, cruel world.”

“Shut up, Bepo,” Penguin snaps, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Now I’m hot, and I wasn’t hot until you said something.” 

“All that fur really sucks, huh?” Shachi laughs, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Bepo pointedly ignores him, slumping his body flat on the floor. 

“I hate going so far underwater. It gets so stuffy,” He cries before narrowing his eyes at his crewmates. “And the company is oppressive, too.” 

You can’t help the giggle that falls from your lips. 

“Not you,” Bepo comments, looking down the hall at you. “You’re not mean to me.”

“Yeah, well, we hate being here with you too, jerk,” Penguin says. 

“Such vitriol. What is a poor bear to do…?” Bepo whines, lugging himself to his feet. “To win the love of his crew members?” 

The collective disgusted sounds of Penguin and Shachi echo down the hall, and you lift your head to see why. Bepo hugs them both into him, rubbing his sweat on their faces. You smile at the sight, a pang of homesickness making your stomach turn. You remember Zoro doing the same thing to you and Sanji when you complained about his lack of bathing. 

“Fine! We’ll ask the captain if we can surface,” Penguin yells, trying to pry himself away from Bepo. 

“Captain!” They yell, stumbling over each other to get up the stairs. You sigh and return to staring at the wall opposite you. 

Heavy footfalls shake the sub above, but you ignore it, wiping a stray tear from your cheek. Your stomach drops as you feel the sub incline rapidly, and you barely smile when you hear the cheers from the common area. 

You stand when the sub is stationary, and there’s no movement above you. You place your hand on the door handle, the cool metal soothing the warmth of your body. You twist the handle and step inside the infirmary. The sight of the Fishman sitting up on his bed surprises you, but your focus is solely on your captain, who lays there motionless, with a large tube coming from his throat. 

“Who are you?” The man asks, and you jump at the gravel of his voice. 

You tell him your name. “I’m a Straw Hat.” 

Jinbe looks taken aback as you run your eyes over Luffy’s body. He’s covered in bandages from head to toe, and you can’t imagine what his injuries look like. You notice Trafalgar’s katana leaning against the bed.

“How are you here? Luffy said his crew was gone.” 

You stand over your captain, your face warm with emotion. You move the katana down to the end of the bed. 

“He told me to run, so I did,” You whisper, brushing his hair off his forehead. “I think he thought Kuma got me too.” 

Jinbe blinks at you before he gets up. “There sounds like trouble above deck. I’ll go.” 

You nod without lifting your head, though you can sense him studying you. 

“He spoke a lot about his crew. I’m glad you’re here.” 

Smiling wetly, you sniffle. “I’m glad too.” 

When the door clicks, you fall to your knees beside the bed. Trafalgar said not to disturb Luffy and told you not to touch his recovering body, but you can’t follow his orders, no matter how hard you try. 

“I’m so sorry,” You sob as you rub his wrist, the gauze rough against your fingertips. “I should’ve stayed back and helped you. Why would you tell me to run?” 

You know you won’t get a response, but having him this close after believing him dead is something your poor heart can’t fathom. 

You don’t know how long you sit there, your head leaning on the side of the bed, but when you come back to your senses, it's obvious the sub is moving. To where? You can’t begin to guess. 

But, you hope Bepo got his fresh air. 

—

Chaos has ensued above deck, you can tell that much. The sound of cheers and then screams of fear, with the dull thuds of arrows lodging into the walls, make you nervous. 

“I’ll be back,” You say, flying from the room. The submarine is empty when you get to the top floor, and you aim straight for the exit. 

The main entrance is ajar, and you push it open. “Trafalgar, what’s—”

“A woman!” 

You freeze after you stumble onto the deck. In awe, you’re suddenly the focus of several people, no, women, lining the walls of a bay. They all wave at you, clearly excited to see you. 

Smiling awkwardly, you wave back, glancing at Trafalgar. 

“Where are we?” You mutter, noticing the large ship in front of you veering off to the left. 

“Amazon Lily.” 

“Okay…” You drop your arm. “Why?” 

“They’re going to take care of Straw Hat.” 

Drawing your brows together, you shake your head. “What happened to being the best doctor on the Grand Line?” 

“I never called myself that,” He scoffs. “Boa Hancock has a fixation on your captain, so she’s going to house him here.” 

Boa Hancock. “The Warlord?” 

“Mmhm,” He hums. “I’m in the dark about how they know each other, but she’s eager to help him.” 

“He’s not something to be passed around.” 

“I know that, but Hancock is adamant about it,” Trafalgar says, voice hard. “Though I said otherwise, I do want him to be okay. Is that alright, sweetheart?”

“Yes, it’s perfectly fine, Trafalgar.” 

He gives you an inquisitive look, one that you brush off. “What’s your problem?” 

“Hancock.” 

Trafalgar snorts and cocks his head. “Yeah, well, don’t make that known here, okay?” 

“Why are we circling the island?” 

“Men are forbidden on the island.” 

“What?” 

“Luffy is the exception.”

You put your hand on his arm, holding back a giggle. “So, you’re going to get shot down? I can’t wait to see this.” 

Trafalgar clicks his tongue, unamused. “Unfortunately, you won’t. We made a deal with Hancock.”

“Disappointing…” You trail off, your fingers slipping from his forearm. But when you look back at him, his eyes are trained on the spot your touch was.

“Docking!” Penguin yells. 

It happens quickly and with skilled practice. A wood plank is placed between the Polar Tang and the patch of land, and the crew piles onto the island. 

Multiple women are on the shore, most setting up tables, tents, and a giant curtain printed with Jolly Rogers. The sun shines down on the grass, and you realise it's the first time since Sabaody that you’ve seen such greenery. 

“The Kuja Pirates,” Trafalgar says in your ear, pulling you from your mind. “Heard of them?” 

You shake your head, not daring to turn to face him. “But this is where Luffy’s staying?”

“Yep, I’m to treat him until he’s better, and then he stays here. It’s a perfect location to hide him from the Navy. You’d know how annoying they are, considering you’re just as if not more.” 

You gape at him, a slight grin pulling the corner of your lip upwards. “You’re kidding—”

A delicate hand on your shoulder pulls you away from him suddenly. You watch as Trafalgar keeps walking, never sparing a glance back. 

“Come with me,” You’re met with a woman with blonde hair. “I’m Marguerite.”

You tell her your name and follow her, though you are unsure where. 

“We have so many clothes for you to choose from,” She giggles. “It isn’t often we get women visitors. Most of the time, it’s men trying to infiltrate.” 

A pang of grief hits you in the chest. It’s unfair these women are still under the threat of unknown men despite having their own island. Though Marguerite doesn’t look too upset about it, you know they are more than capable of handling those men on their own. It’s inspiring. 

“Here,” She continues, shoving you lightly into a tent. 

Immediately, another woman hands you a red bikini. “Try this on.” 

And then you’re swept up by the group of women. Silks and linens are thrown at you, tried on and discarded when you decline the colour or fit of a piece. The women are in awe of your power. They ask you to mend or adjust certain places on their outfits, and you're more than happy to help. 

You hear the Heart Pirates murmuring from their spot on the grass behind the tent walls, food piled high on their plates. Despite your initial hesitation, you laugh along with the women, trading secrets and tips that you could only do with Nami and Robin. 

You feel comfortable here. 

It isn’t until you emerge from the tent that the men go quiet. After knowing you for a fortnight, seeing you in such little clothing has them hollering. You grit your teeth. 

“Enough,” Trafalgar snaps at his crew. You won’t admit it, but the commanding tone of his voice warms your cheeks. “Get back to your food, morons.”

Marguerite laughs at him, and then she turns to you. “Remember, strength equals beauty.” 

You nod, smiling, adjusting the straps of the bikini you wear with your power. It’s something you hold dear to you for a long while. 

“Line up if you want seconds!” A tall woman says, laughing when the Heart Pirates stumble over each other to form a queue. 

“You better get in there if you’re hungry,” Marguerite smiles. “Looks like they’ll take it all.” 

You spot Bepo near the front of the line and thank Marguerite for all she’s done. 

“It’s my pleasure,” She waves as you snake through the crowd. 

“Hey,” You greet Bepo. “What’s on the menu?” 

“Uh…” His eyes look directly into yours, his body stiff. “Stew.” 

You squint at him. “You wouldn’t mind if I skip the line, then?” 

“Never.” 

You roll your eyes at his clipped tone. Scanning the crowd, Trafalgar is nowhere to be seen. Someone in front of you hands you a bowl, and you thank them, stepping to the front of the line. 

“Hello,” The pirate smiles. “I’m Aphelandra.” 

You tell her your name and stick out your bowl when she gestures for it. 

“Must be weird being in a submarine full of men,” She rambles. “Are they all stretchy?” 

You’re taken aback by her question but laugh. “No, the only stretchy guy I know is Luffy.” 

She gasps. “So, you know Luffy?” 

“He’s my captain.” 

“Really? We must tell the Snake Princess,” With a full bowl, you’re pulled beside her. “Eat, you must regain your strength.” 

With your eyes on the trees, you do as she says. You swear you saw a glimpse of Traflagar’s patterned hat when you emerged from the tent. “Have you seen the guy with the funny hat?”

Aphelandra smiles down at you. “The spotty one? He went into the forest.” 

“Thanks,” You grin, placing your empty bowl on the small table beside her and making a beeline for the trees. 

It smells of pine and the rotting wood, and if it weren't for the crashing waves, you’d think you were on an island far away, deep in the trees. 

Your hair snags on a twig before you decide to call for him. “Trafalgar?” 

His response is almost immediate. “Here, sweetheart.” 

You follow the sound of his voice. Trafalgar sits against a tree, a burgundy bottle between his fingers. 

“Whatcha doing out here?” 

He shrugs, sporting his usual bored look. “Not a very social person.” 

You sit in silence as he sips his drink. The birds sing tunes you’ve never heard, and the waves crash against the cliff faces harmoniously. There’s an inkling of anxiety stirring your insides, but you know you’ll get through it. What did Trafalgar say? It only hurts this much right now... You repeat it like a mantra. It will get better. 

“Don’t think too hard. You might hurt yourself again.” 

Scoffing, you shove his shoulder. “Shut up.”

Trafalgar gives you a sidelong glance, a smirk on his lips. “How’s your side? Getting better?” 

You nod, your fingertips running over the bandages unconsciously. “The medication you gave me helps a lot, I barely have any pain.” 

“Good.” 

You study his side profile: the slope of his nose, the harsh cut of his cheekbone, the two gold hoops in his lobe, the dark hair that makes up his goatee... Swallowing, you exhale shakily. 

“I—”

“Excuse me.” 

You jump, looking up to see Marguerite and smiling when she greets you. You rub your palms against your thighs. What were you going to say to him just then? 

“Has Luffy regained consciousness?” 

Trafalgar shakes his head and keeps his voice even. “At this point, it’s up to his spirit and whether he wants to live or die. Nothing I can do anymore.” 

You’re surprised. He hasn’t told you that.

“Marguerite! Hurry up!”

The blonde girl turns, nodding. “Take good care of him until he gets better.” 

Trafalgar keeps the lip of the bottle up to his mouth but makes no move to drink. 

“His spirit, huh?” 

He sets the bottle into the dirt and twists it to stay upright. His demeanour shifts so seamlessly that you barely see it happen. 

“I see you’ve made yourself comfortable.” 

You look down at yourself. Usually, you’d feel embarrassed, but Trafalgar seems uncaring of such things. His eyes don’t criticise you, and you swear there’s a shimmer of something close to appreciation in his gaze. 

“I love it here,” You say, tilting your face to the sun. The distant chatter of the Heart and Kuja Pirates only elevates the warm feeling in your chest. 

“Then stay.” 

“What?” You ask, startled. 

Trafalgar closes his eyes and leans his head on the bark. You haven’t encountered his expression yet and can only interpret it as something close to pain.  

“I’m going wherever Luffy goes.” 

He sighs shakily. “Then it’s settled.” 

The air is thick, and you don’t dare move. You frown, mind racing. Have you done something wrong? Said something?

“Why would you—”

“Luffy! Calm down!”

The alarmed scream has you running toward the submarine, Trafalgar not far behind you. 

You see Jinbe standing on the edge of the cliff and reach him in time to see the roof of the Polar Tang explode, and something fly out the top. You're in too much shock to comprehend what’s happening. And before you know it, Luffy’s bandaged body falls to the grass with a sickening thump. 

“Luffy…”

“Something’s wrong,” Jinbe mumbles beside you. 

Your captain slowly pushes himself to his knees, his fingers digging into the dirt. “Ace.”

Your heart stops, and you grab Trafalgar’s wrist. The doctor is frozen. 

“Ace.”

Cries fall from Luffy’s lips, and he rises before you can approach him. “Where’s my brother?”

You stumble backward, Trafalgar’s chest is hard against your head. Clutching your stomach, you feel sick. He wraps his arm around you, his forearm leaning on your collarbones, barring you from running over there.

Luffy moves before you see him, and then he’s gone. 

“That way!” Penguin yells, pointing to the area you were not 30 seconds ago. The Heart Pirates go after him, but Trafalgar holds you close to him. 

“You’re okay,” He whispers, steadying you. His breath is hot on your ear, and your body almost betrays you. 

Jinbe watches Luffy run around with worry etched on his face. “What happens if he stays in this state?” 

“If he keeps flailing around,” Trafalgar says, narrowing his eyes. “He’s more likely to open his wound, and if that happens, then he’s dead.” 

You cover your face with your palms, unable to form words. 

“Quick! He’s down!” 

Tears blur your vision as you look up, but as soon as they jump on Luffy, the Heart Pirates get flung into the sky. “I have to get to my brother! Get off me!” 

“Oh, Luffy,” You cry, watching as he runs through the curtain separating Amazon Lily and the bay. The pirates stop before they cross the threshold. You want to yell at them for stopping, but remember what Marguerite said. 

“Repair the ship,” Trafalgar commands behind you, removing his arm to throw it toward the submarine. 

“Yes, captain,” A few of them obey, boarding the ship and immediately getting to work. 

You snatch Luffy’s hat from the rock when Trafalgar’s back is turned before standing on wobbly legs and running toward the curtain. 

“Hey, hey!” Bepo yells after you, but you don’t look back. 

Trafalgar yells your name, worry etched in his tone, but you refuse to stop. 

You must get to your captain. 

— Scene 9 —

You trudge through the trees, insects zipping past your ears every few seconds. It's humid in the forest, and you wipe the sweat from your forehead. 

A stick snaps behind you, and you spin around, your hands out. “Jinbe.” 

The Fishman grunts and walks past you. “We must find him. I fear he’ll get himself hurt if we don’t soon.” 

You silently agree, following him over logs and through thick brush. Luffy’s hat sits at your back, the string around your neck. You’d never put it on, but you don’t want it ruined before you give it to him. 

The ground rumbles under your feet, and you stagger. “What was that?” 

Jinbe quickens his pace. “This way.”

You jump over a particularly large branch and try to keep up with him. A scream echoes through the trees, and your body freezes in its spot. 

Jinbe glances over his shoulder. “The only danger here is Luffy.” 

“Luffy…” You whisper. You can't imagine the agony he feels right now. 

Another scream is heard before there's a crash, one that causes the trees to sway uncontrollably. You see rocks flying in all directions and duck to avoid them, using Sew to weave threads above you to catch stray debris. Birds fly overhead at alarming speeds, and you can only guess what was thrown into the mountain to create such an explosion. 

“We’re close, quickly.” 

Before you know it, you see your captain hunched over on the ground, his forehead on the dirt. You gasp at the blood on his hands and back. 

Luffy lifts his head, and you have to look away from the sheer torment on his face. 

“Luffy, listen to me,” Jinbe calls. “Your brother is—”

“Don’t say it!” Your captain screams. “You think I don’t know? You think I think this is a dream?”

You wipe the silent tears that run down your cheeks. It's jarring to see someone you’ve seen be carefree for as long as you’ve known him like this. You feel sick watching him as tendrils of your thread lift the debris from around your captain. 

“If this were a dream, I’d already be awake, don’t you think?” 

“Luffy…” You mutter.

“This isn’t a dream… Is it?” Luffy sobs. “He’s really dead, isn’t he?”

Jinbe sighs. “I’m afraid so.” 

Your captain starts hyperventilating, his breaths short and his face wet with blood and tears. 

“Luffy…” You call, noticing how his body freezes. His eyes find yours, and his jaw falls open. 

He murmurs your name. “Is this a dream, too?”

You stumble over to him, your hands out before you. “No, this isn’t a dream. I’m here.” 

“Wha— How? Did you see Ace, too?” 

You crouch in front of him and shake your head. “I didn’t, but I was at Marineford when we picked you up.” 

‘We?” Luffy asks, his voice holding a tinge of hope. “Are the others here?” 

“No,” You say, wiping his face. “It's only me.” 

Luffy’s cries don’t lessen. “Are they dead, too?” 

You feel your bottom lip tremble at the question. You shrug pathetically. “I don’t know.” 

Luffy falls back down to the dirt. “I’m so tired.” 

You throw Jinbe a desperate look, feeling Luffy slip through your fingers. 

“I’m so weak!” Luffy suddenly yells. “I’m useless!” 

“Luffy—”

“How can you call me your captain? I’m pathetic.” He stands and runs at the large boulder just outside of the trees. He slams his fists into the rock, breaking it into pieces. “I couldn’t save my brother or my crew!”

Jinbe walks up beside you as threads halt the stones from flying into you, and you struggle under their weight. 

“Fuck!” Luffy screams, punching another rock. “Useless!” 

Jinbe says your name. “I think you should leave.”  

Your hand covers your mouth, and your expression morphs into shock. Did you hear him right? You feel the needles of your power wanting to escape, to tighten around him. Your Devil Fruit purrs in your ear as it drops the rocks a few feet away and aims for the Fishman instead. 

“Please don’t make me force you.”

“No! I’m not leaving my captain here!” You scream, threads weaving from your fingers. “What kind of pirate—what kind of person would that make me?” 

“There’s no time for questions,” Jinbe exclaims. “Go!”

“I can’t—”

��I’ll bring him back safely. You don’t need to see this.” 

Your power cracks and fizzles out under your skin as you grapple for it. But it's useless unless you want to lose control, and you know better than to let that happen. 

“Jinbe,” You cry, body too weak to fight him. Luffy hunches over with his hands on his knees, yelling. “Help him.” 

“I will,” He waves you away. “Now go!” 

You sprint back to the bay, forcing your legs to run. You’ve betrayed your loyalty.

Your cheeks are stained with tears and dirt, and your hands are covered in blood. With weak knees, you try jumping over the fallen logs as you did before, but now you’re exhausted, and it feels like they are rocks tied to your feet. 

You sob frantically, stopping to press your palm against a tree every few minutes. Shaking your head, you sniffle. The bay isn’t too far away, and you can hear the seagulls chirping. Your fingers wipe under your eyes, though you know it won’t do anything. You can imagine the state of you. 

You hear Bepo calling your name as you stumble through the curtain. “What happened?” 

There’s blood all over you, which you failed to notice before; the staining on your hands was just the start of it. You stare at your hands as panic rises inside you. Who’s blood is this?

“Where did you go?” Trafalgar’s harsh voice hits your ears before his hand grips your bicep. “Who did this?” 

“Nobody,” You cry, holding onto Trafalgar’s fingers. “Luffy, he—”

You don't hear what the doctor says before he catches you. “Okay, let’s get you to the ship.” 

You shake your head, forgetting the blood on your hands when you fist his shirt. “No! I can’t go there. Not with Luffy out here.” 

“Okay, well, where do you want to go?”

If Jinbe were to be trusted, which seems like a silly thought to question, you know Luffy would be okay. It takes your mind a while to accept that your body needs rest. The adrenaline from seeing Luffy and then running is wearing off, and the fatigue you’ve ignored hits you all at once. 

You sniff, pulling him weakly to a rock. “I just need to lie down, and then I can fight for him.” 

Trafalgar makes no sound when you push him to the ground. Your breathing is calming down, though hiccups still pass your lips. 

“Who were you fighting against? Did they do this to you?” 

“Just sit still for an hour, okay?” You whimper, putting your head on his lap, his jeans rough against your cheek. You can feel his thigh tense underneath you, clearly not used to having someone so close. Sniffling once more, your muscles relax against the ground. “No more questions.” 

When you close your eyes, Trafalgar says nothing, and the waves crashing against the rocks are just as soothing as the hand on your shoulder. 

— Scene 10 —

There’s a hand patting your head when you wake. It’s not gentle, and there's no rhythm, and when you lift your head, you notice the bandages wrapped around his legs. When did Trafalgar get injured? 

The sky is dark, and the stars sparkle above you. It’s a sight you’ve missed. 

“Hey, sleepyhead.” 

“Luffy,” You're in shock at the familiar voice, scrabbling to your knees so you’re not leaning on him anymore. “Are you okay? Why are you here?”

Your captain shrugs, a dopey grin on his face. “I don’t think so. I’m here to say goodbye.” 

“What?” You shake your head. 

“Straw Hat. Pack it up.”

Luffy sighs, his wide eyes glassy. “You gotta go.” 

You pause, a crease forming between your eyebrows. “What? Where?”

“Traffy’s going to take you with him.” 

Shaking your head, you don’t dare take your eyes off Luffy when you hear someone walk up behind you. “I’m staying here with you.” 

“You can’t. We have to get stronger.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

Luffy puts his hands on your shoulders. “You’re going to go with Traffy, and I’ll see you in two years.” 

Two years. “Wait, what? What do you mean two years?” 

Strong hands slip under your armpits from behind and lug you to your feet. You feel your body lift off the ground but do nothing. You’re too shocked to form complaints against whoever’s taking you away. 

“Meet me back at Sabaody in two years.” 

“No, Luffy. I’m here now. Why would I do that?” You struggle against them, your power still sleeping under your skin. 

“We won’t stand a chance in the New World,” Luffy stands. “Get stronger.” 

The person leading you to the Polar Tang whispers an apology as they spin you around and throw you over their shoulder. 

“Bepo?” Your voice comes out in a cracked whimper when you realise it's the bear carrying you. 

“I’m sorry,” He repeats, holding you tightly. 

“Luffy!” 

“Please,” Your captain says your name. “It's the only way. I’ll be fine here!”

“What about the others?” You cry. “How will they know?” 

“I have a plan.” 

You scoff, bordering on laughter. “Of course you do.” 

“Get stronger!” Luffy yells. “And I’ll see you in the New World!” 

Shaking your head, a crazed laugh falls from your lips in disbelief. You should’ve known he’d do something like this. He never does anything half-assed. 

Get stronger. 

“Are you out of your mind?” 

Luffy cackles, tears bordering his waterline. “Yeah!” 

Get stronger. 

If he can smile at a time like this, especially after what he’s been through, then so can you. 

And if Luffy trusts Trafalgar Law to train you in the two years he promised, then so do you. You trust Luffy with your life. 

Swallowing your emotion, you smile back at him. “Fine! I’ll see you in two years, captain!” 

Get stronger. 

You hear Luffy whoop with joy, and before you know it, the door of the Polar Tang slams behind you. Bepo lets you down, steadying you as the submarine goes under. 

It hits you just before you take the first step. “Luffy’s hat!” 

“It’s okay, I gave it to him,” You turn to see Trafalgar leaning against the wall with his katana back on his shoulder. “You feeling okay, sweetheart?” 

“Physically, kinda,” You say, holding onto the railing as you descend the stairs. “Emotionally, no.”

Trafalgar clicks his tongue. “Expected.” 

“Captain, maybe she should eat…” 

You’re so terribly worn out that your eyes are dry. There’s no use crying when it doesn’t serve a purpose. You’re here now, and you will be for the next two years. You hold onto the hope that you’ll see your crew on Sabaody after that time, and that’s enough for a small smile to grace your face. 

You peer up at Bepo, who smiles sheepishly. “Hungry?” 

If polar bears could blush, they’d now look like Bepo. “Uh, no. Just a suggestion, you know… Food helps everything.”

He sounds like Luffy.  

“Can you make rice balls?” You ask Trafalgar. 

“Me?” He acts like it offends him. 

“Bepo let it slip that they’re your favourite, so I know you’d make them best.” 

“Tsk,” He glares at the mink. “I’m busy.”

“Surely not enough to decline making your guest food, Traffy.”

“Traffy, huh?” Bepo snorts. 

Trafalgar runs his tongue over his teeth. 

“Please?” You smile. 

“No. You’re a pest. Go bother someone else.” 

With that, he disappears down the stairs. You stand there with Bepo, the sound of pots clanging making your stomach rumble. 

“I can’t remember the last time he made rice balls,” Bepo says. “He makes other foods, but that one is special to him.”

You go to ask why, but think against it. Trafalgar wouldn’t want his crew members airing out his business. Instead, you shrug. 

“Maybe one day I’ll persuade him.” 

Bepo laughs, scratching behind his ear. “Good luck with that.”

You quirk an eyebrow at him. 

“Anyway, let’s go ask Penguin what’s for dinner,” The bear says. “I wanted rice balls, too.” 

As you turn the corner to the kitchen, the area is quiet. 

“That’s weird,” Bepo says. “Penguin doesn’t shut up when he cooks…”

A familiar katana leans against the counter when you enter, and before you can decipher why, Bepo gasps behind you, confirming your outlandish suspicion—which, as it turns out, wasn’t so in the first place. 

“What filling do you want? I’m not asking again,” Trafalgar’s voice holds irritation. He stands at the stove without his hat, his hair dishevelled. You refrain from giggling. 

Bepo makes a surprised sound. “No way…”

You laugh, stunned, and slide onto the bar stool beneath the counter. Trafalgar’s hat sits beside you, and you eye it as you think about what type of filling you want.

He nods at your request and begins preparing it immediately. Bepo hasn’t moved from his spot in the doorway.  

“Snap out of it, idiot.” 

“Sorry.” Bepo lowers his head and ambles to you to sulk in the chair beside you. 

Trafalgar works silently, seeming comfortable as he rolls the premade rice into triangles. He’s meticulous, using a practised amount of rice to protect the filling, and a knife to slice the nori into even strips. 

Watching him be so careful with the onigiri makes you wonder if there’s more to his delicate touch. One that can bring warmth and comfort to someone. If that translates to his intentions, and if he really wants you here, or if he felt pressured by Luffy to take you on board. 

The question bubbles out of you before you can help it. Despite the setting, it's not one about food. 

“Why did you tell me to stay on Amazon Lily?” Your voice surprises him. 

Bepo looks at you incredulously. The question hangs in the air, and you see Trafalgar’s shoulders tense. 

“I’m gonna go…” Bepo murmurs, slipping from the chair and running from the kitchen.

Trafalgar sighs, rolling his eyes at his crew member. His back is to you, but you can tell he’s thinking of a reply. 

“I figured you’d had enough of a submarine full of men. You seem happy on the island.”

There’s something unsaid in his words, something deeper, but you’re too unsure what it could be to delve into it. Instead, you smile. 

“And here I was, thinking I was just a pawn,” You laugh, running your fingers along the brim of his soft hat. The memory of a few days ago burns deep inside you. It makes you think about his hands again. “Besides, you’re not allowed there, so why would I stay?” 

“Mm?” Although the hum sounds non-committal, you can feel him side-eyeing you. 

You wouldn’t admit it, but you’ve grown fond of him. But your cheeks warm when you realise the connotation of your rhetorical question, and your focus remains on his hat. “Who will I annoy if not you?” 

Trafalgar sighs and laughs a breathy laugh. “You’re going to be a pain in my ass, aren't you sweetheart?” 

You raise your eyebrows and shrug, feigning innocence. His easy laughter gives you all the evidence that he wants you on his submarine. “Two years isn’t that long, Traffy. You’ll survive.” 

He mumbles something under his breath and turns around, two plates in his hands. 

You take one from him. On the plate sits two onigiris, each a perfect triangle with a strip of nori on the bottom. “Thank you.”

Trafalgar grunts and picks up one of his onigiris. You copy him, eyeing how he bites the top off precisely. 

“What’s in yours?” You ask, chewing. The flavour explodes in your mouth, and you refrain from moaning in delight. You can feel Trafalgar’s eyes on you, but don’t look up as you play with a stray piece of rice on the plate. 

“Grilled salmon,” He speaks when he finishes swallowing. “Do you like it?” 

The question seems loaded, as if he’s not just asking about rice balls. It catches you off guard, the discernable keenness. Maybe you didn’t notice it before, with all your exhaustion and constant unconsciousness, but he’s hanging on your every word. His eyes are full of hope before he blinks, and it vanishes. You swear you saw it, and it fills you with shy satisfaction. 

He definitely wants you on his submarine. 

Remembering his original question, you nod. “It’s good.” 

It's an understatement, but Trafalgar seems content with your answer and continues eating his food. 

“You can call me Law, you know. No need to be so formal now that you’ll be here for a while.” 

Your eyes widen, and a soft ‘oh’ leaves your lips.  

Trafalgar is quick to speak. “Only if you’re comfortable. I know I’m considered a rival and all that.” 

You mull over his request, eyeing his hunched posture and countless tattoos beneath his elbows. His hair flops over his forehead, and his lips are twisted into an awkward pout, and you realise this is the same man you saw on your first night. 

“Law,” You whisper, and when you look at him, your mind plays a trick on you because his cheeks are tinted pink, and there’s a vulnerable look in his eye. 

A fortnight isn’t a long time, and despite your quarrels, you think you’ll get to know Trafalgar Law much more than you anticipated.

[ln444]

✩ moonlight

summary: oscar never realized how much he got used to your company until you're miles away from him.

cw: f!reader, fluff, smut, dirtytalking, oral (f), fingering, oscar is crazy in love:(.

now playing: moonlight by ariana grande

requested my anon

_________________________________________________

six weeks. six long and lonely weeks since you been away from oscar. the empty side of the bed, the lonely nights clutching your pillow instead of him, it felt like you became too familiar to it. and you hate it. sure, it's not the first time that you're apart due to his f1 commitments, but it had never lasted that long. usually, you always find a way to join him during the grand prix, to support him and share his world, but this time was different, you needed to stay here in australia to get some things done.

the fact that you couldn't make it to the races made a gnawing sensation grow in your stomach. but today was finally the day, the day he come back for a precious week before diving back into his f1 driver life — with you by his side this time.

every minute spent apart from oscar felt like an eternity, and you couldn't bear to miss a single moment of his time back home. so you decided to meet him at the airport. the anticipation built as the minutes ticked away, making your heart race with a mix of excitement and impatience.

the moment oscar appears, the world faded into the background. there were no greetings, no words exchanged; you just fall into each other's arms, holding each other as if there is no tomorrow.

as you pull away, your eyes meets his and you exchange a loving and long gaze. a smile appears on both of your lips and you don't even need words to understand each other. just the sparks in his eyes makes you understand how much he missed you. oscar's hands cup your cheeks, caressing them, it's like he wanted to make sure that you're real, that you're here with him.

your lips meets in a kiss that contain all the longing and love you've been storing up during your time apart. the kiss is slow and gentle, you're tenderly exploring of each other's mouths and you can feel the butterflies explode in your stomach. it seems like the world around you fade away as the kiss deepen, full of hunger.

oscar's hands found a way to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. your bodies fits like missing puzzle pieces and the kiss become more urgent, as you could never get enough of each other.

out of breath and after what felt like an eternity, you finally pull away and your eyes meets his again, the sparks in it brighter than before. you can't help but smile, your hands sliding in his messy hair, trying to adjust it.

"i missed you", he places a kiss on your nose, "so much, baby". your smile grows bigger and you plant a sweet peck on his lips, "i missed you more" you whisper against his kissed lips before sliding your hand in his, intertwining your fingers, "let's get you home, babe"

the way home was filled with silly stories and laughs, accompanied by stolen kisses while oscar kept his eyes on the road. when you finally made it in the apartment that you and oscar shared, you could feel the heavy weight on your heart beginning to lift and the discomfort in your stomach has been replaced by the warmth of oscar's presence.

oscar messily throw his stuff in the corner of your shared bedroom. he just have one thought in mind right now; holding you as close as he can for as long as he can. so, with a tug on your waist, he fall backward onto the bed, pulling you down with him. he gazes as you with intensity, taking time to examine every details of your face, as if he wanted to paint them in his brain forever.

"god, you look even more beautiful than when i left," he murmured, and you couldn't help but blush, your cheeks warming with a rush of affection. without hesitation, you leaned in to capture his lips in a tender kiss. oscar's hands slid instinctively beneath your shirt, sending shivers directly down your spine. it's like oscar was discovering your body all over again, his hands exploring every inch of your stomach, chest, and back, making you whimper through the kiss, which had now become far more intense.

oscar never truly understood the depth of his love for you until these weeks without you. he didn't realize how much he cherishes having you by his side every day, with the joy of your smile constantly brightening his days. he treasure the way you always make sure that he's okay, that he's sleeping and eating well. how you always make sure that he feels loved and happy. every little habits of yours, endearing or not, was something that oscar adores. he loves everything about you. maybe being apart for a while had his advantages because oscar finally realized that he's crazy in love with you.

lost in his thoughts, oscar doesn't even notice that you're now both naked. you look at him, a bit puzzled and concerned, your hand stroking softly his cheek. "hey, you're okay, baby?" you ask softly, a little out of breath from the intense make out session. your question remains unanswered, oscar is too captivated, gazing at you as though you hold the entire universe in your eyes.

"i love you" he suddenly says, his chest filled with all sort of overwhelming emotions. your eyes widen, a sudden wave of emotion washing over your entire body. you can't help but lose yourself into oscar's eyes, which are so sincere and tender that your heart feels like it could burst out of your chest at any moment.

"oscar... i..." you whisper hesitantly, the words getting stuck in your throat due to the overwhelming feelings traveling your body. but as soon as you feel oscar's body tense beneath yours and his look changing, you immediately panic and grab his face. you give him the softest look you can, filling it with all the adoration you have for him, saying "i love you, so much".

without any words, oscar pulls you for an hungry kiss, his hands firmly placed on your waist so he can pull you as close as he can. as you moan through the kiss, oscar seized the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, and your two tongues began to dance in perfect harmony. the kiss feels so different, a whole new feeling filling both of your body and it just makes you crave for more.

his lips leaves yours, traveling your jawline to end up on your neck that he start to mark, gently sucking and kissing your skin. the continuous whimpers coming out of your mouth encourages him to go further; his fingers finds your nipples, playing with them. like it's not already enough for you, his mouth joins his fingers, making you a moan mess and your hands slid into his curls.

"oscar..." you whine, looking down at him and he looks back, his lips ghosting your nipple. "what is it, baby?", he knows exactly what you want but he wants to hear you say it. "please..." you pout, your grip on his hair getting slightly firmer. "use your words", his tone is so soft but yet so authoritarian. oscar loves how you missed him and his touch, feeling so wanted by the person he loves create a new sensation inside him that feels so exciting.

"oscar! please stop teasing" you groan softly and he chuckles, kissing both of your nipples and he doesn't hesitate to take his sweet time to get to your core, he even stops to admire it and then his eyes goes back to yours, "fuck, i missed your pussy so much", you can't help but blush, and your thighs instinctively closes. you break the eye contact to throw your head backward and oscar just smirks. he will never get over the effet he has on you, enjoying every single second of it.

"eyes on me, sweetheart" after making sure that you're looking and that your legs are opened for him, he doesn't waste any more minutes and start making out with your pussy, sucking softly on your clit to taste you and a soft groan escapes from his lips, feeling overwhelmed by the missed feeling.

you, on the other side, is a literal mess, you could feel all the sensations you felt the first time he ate you out. with a hand on his hair, you arch your back, repetitively moaning his name and oscar is now completely pussy drunk. he's eating you out like there's no tomorrow and it doesn't take you long to reach your climax, not even finding the time to warn him. it didn't stop him though, his tongue keeps lapping your core, tasting you again and again, never getting enough of your pussy. he makes sure to lick you clean, not leaving any drop of your juice.

"you taste so fucking good" he groans, looking at you proudly and pulling you for a messy kiss. completely breathless and shaking from the orgasm, you try your best to kiss him back. the kiss is sloppy, both craving for more. it gets even messier when two of oscar's fingers slips inside you. you can't even keep up with the kiss, too busy trying to control your moans and the way your body shakes.

"you're feeling so good, so wet, just for me" you can feel his breath against your neck and it drives you completely insane. it's not like you didn't think about this when oscar was away, touching yourself for hours and imagining his fingers deep inside you. but, right now, it's not your imagination. everything is real; his fingers inside you, his lips on your neck, his words. just by this thought, you feel another orgasm grow in your stomach, holding tight into oscar's busy arm.

"coming... oscar!" you almost scream and oscar just keeps going, even fastening his moves to accompany you through your orgasm. he places gentle kisses all over your neck, whispering sweet words and telling you how good you are doing. it's just too much for you, your back arch as you reach your climax and you unconsciously plant your nails into oscar's skin, moaning his name a few times.

oscar leaves a few more kisses on your neck and jawline, making sure you catch your breath before going back to kissing you, softer this time. you try to transfer all of your feelings through the kiss and oscar can feel every single of it, making his heart explode in his chest. your bodies won't leave each other, like they're meant to be linked forever, fitting each other like puzzle pieces.

completely dizzy, oscar pull out to admire you, his eyes brightening and he's completely dazzled by you. "i want to make love to you" he whispers softly, his fingers ghosting your cheek like you're the rarest piece of art ever. you didn't even know that your heart was capable of taking that much love and affection.

"do it. i'm all yours." you whisper back, like the world around you doesn't exist anymore and it's just you two and your love. oscar can feel his chest burning from all the mixed feelings and he swears that he could go crazy just by looking at you.

with sweet touches and whispers, he makes love to you during hours, trying to make up for lost time. he doesn't hesitate to remind you how much he loves you and he missed you every time you kiss.

maybe being apart from you wasn't that bad, but oscar doesn't want you to be far from him ever again. in fact, he needs you forever.

_________________________________________________

[gothamhappiness]

The nightmare (Jason Todd x GN!reader)

Warnings: no proof reading, angst, kinda comfort but not really, mentions of blood, violence, Joker, dark!Jason at the end

You woke up sweating and your heart beating so fast that you thought it was going to explode inside your chest. You sat up before frantically looking for your boyfriend Jason in the bed. You needed several instants to collect yourself and remember that he was patroling away tonight.

You couldn't stay in bed, not after the nightmare you just had. You needed to busy yourself until Jason came back. You went into the kitchen and started to prepare some tea. Hopefully, it could calm down your nerves. You wanted to call Jay, but you were worried you would distract him during a mission.

The tea didn't help. Your eyes were focused on the time passing by. You were getting very distraught now. What if something had happened to Jason?

Just like in your nightmare.

At the instant you heard the window getting opened, you rushed to it. Red Hood barely had the time to get inside; you were already hugging him before checking him for any injuries. If your warm welcome made Jay smile at first, it was until he noticed how anxious you were. He removed his helmet, let it fall on the ground before gently cupping your face into both of his hands.

"Hey babe. Is everything alright?" he whispered to you

"I'm just... so happy to see you're all good" you replied, starting to cry.

Jason panicked. He wasn't standing to see you in such a bad state of mind. He quickly sat you down on the couch, then knelt down in front of you, trying to comfort you with gentle words and touch. You managed to calm down after a little while.

"I'm so sorry, this is so silly. I just had this nightmare and I worried about you and..." you babbled

"What nightmare, love?" Jay asked

You didn't reply. You weren't too sure you wanted to talk about it to Jason. He took your hands in his and stroked them.

"Alright, I'm gonna grab a shower and..."

"Let me take care of you" you asked

Jason simply nodded, he couldn't deny you anything.

You helped him undress and then washed him with great care and tenderness. It was allowing you to stop thinking about the nightmare. Jay enjoyed your quiet love for him. You were the only person who ever cared for him like that. He was so grateful you were part of his life. He didn't know how he could live without you.

He also looked after you in a comfortable silence even though your boyfriend hated to see you so tense. For the moment, he allowed you to keep your thoughts to yourself.

But at the instant you both settled in bed, he gently guided you on his lap. You instinctively snuggled against him.

"So, what's going on?" he whispered

"I'm not positive that I want to tell you about it..." You admitted

"Why not?" He stroked your cheek

"It was about... him." You said

"Him?" Jason asked even if he guessed your answer

"The Joker." You replied

"Alright, what happened with him?" He asked, his jaw clenched

"He... kidnapped the two of us. You were tied up on a chair, and his goons took me on top of a pool full of acid. Joker told me I had the choice. Or I could watch him club you to death, or I could jump in the acid." You explained.

Jason's face was unreadable, but deep down, he was losing his mind.

"And what did you say, love?"

"I jumped of course, and I woke up" you murmured.

Jason instantly grabbed your face and brought you even closer to him.

"My love, I need you to make a promise to me then. Even if I'll do anything to keep you safe, if one day something like that happens, never choose me over yourself. Promise me you'll do everything to stay alive." he was deadly serious

"But Jay..."

"No but. I don't matter."

"How can you say something like that! This is not true! I love you" You cried out

"Let's me rephrase that. If I die, nothing bad will truly happen out of it. You'll get upset, but it'll pass. On the other hand, I can assure you that no one in Gotham would want to deal with the aftermath of your death."

"What... what do you mean?" You frowned

"That if anything happened to you, I'll burn this whole city to the ground and there would be no survivor. Not even Batman." Jason darkly promised

"Jay..." You were speechless

"You are my world, my everything, and if I lose you, everyone goes down with me. So now promise me you'll always pick yourself over me and anyone else, baby." He continued

"I... I promise you." You replied as you realised it was the only answer you could give him.

[anantaru]

DAY 17 — VIRGINITY LOSS

kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3

𖧡 — including — blade, jing yuan

𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, first time, virgin! reader, taking your v card, soft & passionate, pussy drunk hsr men

𖧡 — BLADE

the jammed breathes blade expelled from the top of his lungs evidently showcased the current emotions he had been experiencing— and despite him taking his time with his darling, letting you adjust to his throbbing cock without actually hurting you, knowing it was the right route to take, he applauds his self control for being so strong and resilient.

blade doesn't thrust into you after he slides his inches into you, rather did he take dazzling delight in traversing over your thudding desire— he coughs and it's followed by a muttered curse, whilst your own short, pitchy whines were muffled into his neck as they echoed on his flesh.

still shaking from the intrusion, your hips had a mind of their own and tremble as you jerk up a little, desperately seeking more contact of him, you need him faster, stronger, to water down the slight, lingering burn on your creamy hole, a raging fire wavering on his cock when you begin to constrict and let go, clamp on his length before milking him with your warmness.

"b-blade.." your voice breaks into delicate trembles, "you can move now.."

he nods at you, most handsome and alluring before tightening his arms around your body, idle musing being acted out as blade plants a kiss on your forehead— fuck, everything felt different now, especially since you're completely open to him and he doesn't know how to react, or how you're vulnerable from inside and out and blade practically floats at the feeling of a deep satisfaction matching your own.

"how does that feel?" he was continuously content with you, never once looking back to view his own sentiments, the brightest hues of his vulnerabilities exploding inside the humidity of the room— through soft fingertips and passionate gazes, through a steady breathing rattling over your lips and through those sweet words, sinful noises, all combined into one giant sensation weighing above you.

you pant, scrunching your eyes together before folding your arms around his back, "g-good," you whisper, "you feel.. nice," and he smiles at your words, as if your existance was the key to his soul, silencing the gruesome whisperings of doubts in him.

his cock throbs at your mewls, the length hot and wet when he begins to pick up on pace, eagerly gazing down in between your bodies as you took him in, bathing the swelling vehemence of his frame when you accepted him wholly— before blade, your handsome boyfriend, clenches his fists around the silken sheets at the pressure of just how much he loved and craved you.

𖧡 — JING YUAN

you always knew that you won't ever regret giving yourself to someone such as jing yuan— you'd never look back at it with any form of remorse, not one bit, because you utterly loved him and were certain that he was the one.

a breathless heave follows a murmured swear as jing yuan bucks his hips into you, to get a feeling for the situation and reach some guise of control, even though he could barely contain himself right now— for one, the thought about you being, untouched, and him being your first in basically everything, was holding his heart in a choke hold, a bristling warmth on his chest perfectly slotted against your own.

the general loved you so much, realizing that he will forever be in love with you, and between his body and mind, it was an honor to be chosen by you.

"oh... fuck! my love, you're so tight," he grunts, swallowing down the assemblage of saliva in his mouth before kitty licking across your bottom lip, surrendering to your warm pussy trapping him in between, not wanting this moment to end and go on forevermore.

jing yuan was confined inside the tenderness of how good you felt touching him up, taking his inches and gushing around his shaft— but he wants more, he needs to feel more and begins to rock his hips deeper— your creamy arousal sousing over your wrecked insides before dribbling down his balls with every new drag in and out, his head silently slanting forward to have his lips placed on the crown of your head before you both cry out in a plethora of salacious sobs and hasty whispers.

but he still wanted more, needed everything, everything. everything.

it's incredible and your legs ache at his hips keeping them parted with the stinging nerves on your hole shrieking and twisting from being penetrated for the very first time in your life, fusing with the bliss touching you like pins and needles on your wet sex— jing yuan carries on to move in and out, stretching you flawlessly with his weighty dick dripping his pre on your warmness, throbbing against your walls all the while slamming his body on top of yours, your little pussy doing all the work, stroking his hard length— sharp, frantic jerks battering your cunt as you remained enclosed in each others arms.

©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[drewsbuzzcut]

I Wanna Taste The Crush

Mat Barzal x model!fem!reader

A visceral in doses fic

Warnings: SMUT and alcohol consumption

Takes Place: July 2024

You walk out on the deck of your yacht, picking up a beer from the ice chest and heading towards your boyfriend. He’s laid out, taking in the sunshine. There are still droplets of water on his body, making your breath catch in your throat. The ridges of his abs gather your attention, making you think about the night before when you licked up his torso while jerking him off. A subtle blush settles in your cheeks at the thought, joined by a yearning pooling in your tiny bikini bottoms.

“Hey, hotshot,” you greet, standing over him.

He raises his eyebrows at your stance. A hand is on your hip and your legs look miles long. Mat loves your legs so much. Don’t even get him started on the way your lips are glossed to perfection.

“Hey, baby,” he hums and sends you a bright smile. His eyes are captivating with the way they practically glow.

He bites down on his bottom lip, ogling your body that’s donned in his favorite black bikini. Slowly you straddle his lap, claiming every single ounce of his attention that wasn’t already on you.

“Want a drink?” You offer him your bottle after taking a sip. Some of the beer trails down your chin, making Mat gulp back his desire.

He hesitates, but only because you let your hand trail up his chest. Your nails lightly scratch at his skin, igniting a spark in his groin. He accepts the drink and brings it to his lips, letting the cold liquid calm his senses.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathes out as if he’s been keeping the fact a secret. As if he doesn’t tell you that every second.

You grow flustered under his smoldering gaze, subtly grinding yourself on him as you adjust. He traces a finger down your sternum and chills prick at your skin.

“I love you,” you respond and lean down to connect your lips with his.

His large hands paw at your back, moving up and down to feel every notch in your spine. You nose at his jaw, letting your body melt into his at the familiar sensation of him tracing your tattoo.

“I want you,” he whispers, breath hot in your ear.

“You have me,” you respond and untie your bikini top. You let Mat take over the ties resting on your hips.

“You’re going to give me a taste, pretty girl?”

You simply nod your head in response.

“I want you to sit on my face.”

Your heart stutters in your chest, yummy anticipation filling your body.

“You know I’m all yours,” you sigh out in bliss (you can already feel your orgasm building) and crawl up his upper body to straddle his face.

“Fuck, baby you’re already so wet,” Mat hums against the skin of your thighs. Your scent sends a rumble through his chest.

“That’s because the thought of you eating me out drives me insane.”

A small squeak leaves your lips as he blows cool air on your aching heat. He spreads your folds open, mouth watering at the sight of you dripping for him.

You card your fingers through his hair, guiding his eyes to yours. For a few seconds you exchange silent communication. It’s tender and reassuring.

“Love me,” you moan, body going rigid as his tongue connects with your clit.

The very tip circles your bud, making you buzz. Your thighs dare to clench around his head, but instead you lean back with your hands holding yourself up on his much stronger thighs.

“Oh my god, Maty!” He lets his tongue travel to your fluttering hole, teasing you until you can’t handle anymore.

The hockey player massages your bud until your soft moans fall repeatedly from your mouth. You try to focus on not letting yourself explode so quickly, but the way he caresses you with love and fervor makes you weak.

“You taste so good, baby,” he groans into you, sucking your clit into his mouth. With a jolt your body arches, pushing your pussy further into his face.

“Just like that,” you whimper as your body starts to vibrate with your impending release.

As he sucks on your swollen bud, he inserts two fingers inside of you, working you towards the edge. You can’t help but grind on his face, eager and greedy for his salacious mouth.

“That’s it. Ride my face, baby.” His sweet like honey voice echoes around you. You feel as if you’re surrounded by nothing but him.

“I’m going to cum,” you announce as you sit up and tighten your hands in his tendrils of curls.

His fingers curve into your g-spot, and your legs begin to quiver as he sucks your orgasm out of you.

“Fuck. Fuck. Oh my god,” you shriek, hands tugging at your hair as you resist the passion forcing your body backwards.

Mat stares up at you, eyes glued to the way your breasts sway with your heaving chest, or how your eyes have turned into whirlpools of lust.

“I will never get tired of eating you out,” Mat huffs out, his chin shiny with your orgasm. He softly massages your thighs until you’re able to come down from your high.

You bite back a victorious smile, but you’re too tingly to even successfully hide it.

Without a word, but with a devious smirk, you slink down his body. You pull down his tiny swim trunks and stroke him until he’s rock hard- which doesn’t take more than a few seconds.

“Now I want you,” you whisper in his ear before sinking down on him.

“You’re so tight, pretty girl. You were made just for me,” he groans, hands cupping your ass as you rock your hips into him.

Lacing your hands around his neck, you pull yourself closer and let his tip prod at your g-spot. With every nudge you feel your release reviving, taking over your consciousness and making you bounce on him until you’re crying out in pleasure.

“Don’t stop. Don’t stop,” you whine as his thrusts meet your movements.

Mat takes your nipple in his mouth, kissing and biting until he’s dragging his mouth all over your chest. He rises to his knees and with all his strength, hauls you off his cock and places your legs over his shoulders. His hands find your hips, slamming you down on his length and ramming into you. Your pussy flutters around him at the position change, sensitive to the way he hits much deeper this way.

“Oh my god,” seems to be the only words you can formulate and they come out in a whimpered mantra.

White dots start to blur your vision and your limbs feel uncontrollable. The knot in your stomach starts to tighten, sending waves of heat through your body.

“Cum for me. I can feel your pretty little pussy squeezing me,” Mat grunts in a hot rasp. It sends a chill down your spine.

Your walls collapse around him, spasming against his pulsing length. With whatever strength you have left, you jut your hips up and take him as deep as he can go.

“You’re so beautiful, baby,” your boyfriend compliments you as he pulls out and brings your body to his.

Your chest thunders against his as you try to grasp at him, so that he can keep your quaking body still.

“I love you,” you whisper into his collarbone, leaving a soft kiss there.

“I love you.”

Mat lays you back on the deck in front of him, your figure glowing under the sun. You emanate love and passion as it courses through your veins. Your hair is past the point of being messy and your lips are extra swollen from biting them. The sea breeze washes over you, and makes chills dot your skin and makes your nipples tighten.

You spread your legs, letting Mat catch sight of your orgasm dripping out of you. The yacht rocks back and forth on the waves, pushing him towards your glistening core. Or maybe it’s the craving of your taste that has him crawling to you on all fours.

“Do you have one more in you?” One of his fingers traces around your inner thigh.

“Always for you,” you sigh and stretch out your arms above your head.

“Look at me, pretty.”

You almost combust as you watch your boyfriend kiss down your slit. He parts your folds and lets his spit drop onto your clit. He spreads it around your opening, hungrily eating up the way you clench around an annoying emptiness. His tongue swirls around your begging hole, making your legs twitch. In an effort to keep you still, he places your legs over his shoulders while his hands are planted on your ankles.

His moans of satisfaction mix with your cries of ecstasy as he slurps up every bit of your arousal and previous orgasms.

“Uhh I love your tongue,” you breathe out.

“I know you do,” he mutters against you, dropping his eye in wink.

“Holy shit,” you gasp as he thrusts his tongue inside of you, exploring your pussy as if it’s the first time.

“Look at you, you’re already shaking. Cum for me.” His hands gravitate to your boobs, palming them with his large hands as he continues to fuck you with his mouth.

Your hips buck into his face, needing more of him. Your toes curls and your body stiffens as another release ravages your already limp body.

The heat coiling within you bursts into flames. You shiver and writhe around while he laps at the mess between your thighs. You’re too blissed out to feel him snake up your body and bring you into his chest. He circles your bud, smiling in admiration when your head falls back. Your eyes are closed, long eyelashes dusting your cheeks and your mouth is open in a silent moan. His lips kiss on your bitten bottom lip, bringing you out of your haze.

“Are you okay?” Mat’s voice is soft much like his hands as they roam all over you.

“Yes, you were so amazing,” you whisper, your forehead pressed to his neck. You hold onto him tightly as you catch your breath.

“I’m amazing? Baby, you’ve never seen yourself cum around my tongue or my cock. You’re ethereal always, but even more so when your body is completely rendered to me. You get this distinct glow,” he returns the compliment as he noses at your hair.

“I’m so in love with you,” you laugh and kiss him once more.

“No, I’m in love with you. I can’t believe we get to be here together.”

“You’re so sexy when you’re being sappy,” you giggle into his lips.

“You’re perfect,” Mat states, eyes boring into yours and his hand holding your cheek.

“I know,” you grin and relax into his body. The waves carry you both into a peaceful and warm orgasmic glow. Completely wrapped around each other, not sure where one ends or begins.

a/n: Before editing this piece, I didn’t really like it. Now I love this piece and I hope y’all do too!!

[noobsoconfusing]

‘heartworm’_hamzahthefantastic

tired and sleepy conversations with your boyfriend who doesn’t shut the fuck up .

fluff, suggestive talk about martin, family ideas, cuddling in bed, established relationship.

>_<

one thing you noticed about your boyfriend is that he has many things inside his head, a raging –almost painful– need to tell you everything he is thinking about, and while you thank him for the trust, you can’t help but wonder if he analyses the things he says out loud before verbally vomiting them.

“y/n, are you awake?” hamzah’s voice came out soft and groggy, his low tone dragging in a whisper made you open your eyes almost so quick that it hurt.

“hmm, yes.” you replied, adjusting your sight to the dark room.

“do you…wanna talk?” he shifted on the bed, turning his body to face yours. he had a small smile as he looked at you. you felt warm.

the way his hair was messy, and his face so naturally familiar to you felt almost dreamy.

hamzah’s big sleepy eyes made your heart feel like a cooker bomb. weird comparison but to be honest you could almost feel the way it was going to explode anytime.

and god, you love him so much. unexplainably so damn much. he thought the same of you.

“cant sleep, huh?” you asked, getting closer to his body under the covers, but then you felt how one of your cats, probably blue, squealed. he was probably sound asleep between hamzah’s body and yourself, always looking for warmth. the protection of his cat parents

“mmm, nope, not really.” he sighed. “have so much stuff going on, you know? inside my mind, i mean.” he admitted, one of his hands travelled to your face, and he stroked your cheek only to feel some sort of contact. “so fuckin’ pretty, huh, you’re my pretty girl..”

you leaned into the touch like a needy pet, and he couldn’t help but smile, heart feeling full.

“whats inside your mind, hamzah?” you asked curiously.

although you were extremely tired and sleepy, hamzah always came first to you. soul intimacy was important, not only sex, and you wanted to know what was bothering him or keeping him awake at such indecent hours.

“you. always.” oh. “like, for real, y/n, and i don’t wanna sound obsessed, even though yeah, i am pretty much obsessed with you–,” he paused to swallow. your heart felt so heavy with a feeling you couldn’t quite describe, but only hamzah made you feel. “i am always thinking about you.”

to be reciprocated, to be seen. hamzah made you feel seen, as he pretty much matched your deep feelings for him. –oh, y/n, you match my freak!– his voice filled your head. so nice.

“i feel the same way” you bluntly said. “each day i feel like we have been dating for my whole life, because this crazy funny feeling never really goes away.” by that you meant, the exciting feeling of expectation and young love.

first love.

he giggled, low tone. “right! i know, it’s like, okay, like i feel like i am a kid in love, you know? all silly and nervous around you, but at the same time i feel like we have been married for ages!”

to be reciprocated, to be seen. to be in love.

“i love you, hamzah.” you admitted, your voice suddenly softer.

and he didn’t reply, instead, he lifted the covers all the way up till they were engulfing your bodies, the closeness was comforting, and his arms moved around your frame until a hug was crafted. so perfect and tender. his body was like a boiler, providing you of heat, almost like a heat pad for cramps… but man sized.

he looked at you, big round eyes silently speaking, hoping you hear them, –god i love you, i love you so much you’re my fucking world, i wanna spend my whole damn life by your side.– silent confession.

instead, he says;

“have you ever had tapeworms?” hamzah asks out of the blue.

you blink. blink twice. then three times. and then you sigh, remembering your boyfriend was just, well, just like that. it didn’t ruin the atmosphere though, you enjoyed… whatever the fuck he was trying to say.

“hmmm, i don’t think i have had tapeworms, no” you answer snuggling up to his bare chest.

hamzah hums. “it’s fine, me neither by the way, i just asked ‘cause whenever i think of you my heart feels like it’s got a tapeworm inside of it…”

silly, you thought. lovely.

“yeah. i think i know what you mean.”

“i think it’s in the way we match each other so fucking well, yeah? i never thought i could find a person that just… loves me… for what i am…” he said and you felt your heart skip a beat.

your eyebrows furrowed. “elaborate.”

“for instance, you’re my friend, but also my girlfriend, but also my wife, but also my best friend, and not only that, you’re also like, my life partner, you know?”

ugh, stupid fucking feelings. you felt so deeply about hamzah that your heart felt like it could burst out anytime.

“hey, i love you so much it’s almost overwhelming.” you admitted, melting into his touch. “for so long i thought nobody would ever notice me or listen to me or even just, be my friend. or try to take the time to understand me…” your voice lowered at the end of your sentence.

he groaned at how close you were. satisfaction, of course.

“you’re so beautiful, y/n.” he kissed the top of your head. “like, i also thought that martin would be my only friend forever, as scary as it sounds.” he laughed and you did too.

“hey! martin’s nice!” you defended your friend.

“i mean yeah, i love him too, but it’s different. not in the way i love you, and i know he doesn’t love me in the way he loves mandy.” he explained.

“yeah, i know.” you laughed sleepily, as you leaned onto hamzah’s body. it helped a ton that he slept shirtless because you liked the raw closeness.

“martin is cool, but if i had never met you, i would have blue balls and an empty heart!”

“and gay allegations, still.” you added, laughing.

“but most importantly blue balls..” hamzah said serious, with a sigh.

“huh?!”

“i can’t fuck martin. i can’t make love to martin, though, just think about it.”

“dude…” you said, trying not to burst out laughing out loud.

“i have thought about it, but only before meeting you, it’s just weird!” hamzah explained, with a nervous smile on his face.

“you don’t have to think about that, hamzah!” a smile creeped up on your lips. an awkward one.

“right, i know.” he defended himself-, “i don’t think about it anymore, i was just a lonely man before you, though.” ah, you knew that.

every time they could, mandy and martin made sure to tell you how much of a loner miserable man hamzah was. a painfully single dude. even the slushies would be constantly commenting jokes about it.

“because you’re weird that’s why…” you joked and he clicked his tongue. “that’s why i love you”

“you know, before you; it was my hand, lotion, tissues and me against the world.” he listed as if it was a great accomplishment.

as if it was something super fucking serious. to be fair, it was very serious to him.

“no video?” you joked. it felt so nice and genuine to talk about silly stuff like this with your man.

he stopped to think for a second. “nah, just my imagination. always imagined you though, even before meeting you i always imagined someone like you.” he kissed your forehead.

“wow, how romantic, it’s almost as if you’re not talking about beating your meat.”

as you both comfortably joked and laughed, a nice silence filled the room.

hamzah pulled you closer, which you thought was physically impossible, but still, your body thanked his devotion for physical affection.

his low voice broke the silence.

“y/n…”

“yes, hamzah?”

he sighed, holding your waist close to his own. you could feel him, feel him merging with your body, but it was nice, not really anything more than intimacy.

“i can’t wait to have a family with you.” he said, the weight of the confession leaving his chest felt so good.

your eyes opened wide. and you stuttered to reply.

“we are a family.” you said.

the cats, him, you. yeah, a family as god intended, right? but still, you knew what he meant. and you wanted it too.

“do you think we’ll be good parents?” he asked, the tone in his voice indicating he was being honest, being hopeful. he hoped for you to say yes so badly.

you thought for a moment…

“i think we’ll be okay, hamzah.” yeah.

“we’ll be okay, love.” he said, but it was almost as if he was trying to reassure himself.

hamzah wanted a big family, and he liked thinking about caring for the little humans you’d create together.

and the room filled with silence yet again, as you heard his calm breathing, you realised he had fallen asleep. the comfort of his embrace made you fall asleep as well.

hamzah felt so safe with you, so understood. never judged at all. he said weird stuff, but you always had a smile on your face. never grossed out by him, never angry, always loving.

it was nice. to be reciprocated, to be seen.

the heartworm inside his heart wiggled happy, eating his flesh and leaving a trace of only you.

>_<

hope u liked this. i did. heh.

[brewed-pangolin]

Consider lovely charming Soap trying to make an innocent reader swoon for him, all for the reader to unintentionally pull an uno reverse on him. Hes chatting their ear off, talking himself up. All of sudden the reader interrupts him and says that he has the prettiest eyes they've ever seen. Johnny starts to malfunction, he can't talk, his face is going red hot.

Usually he doesn't get so tripped up but it came from such a genuine place, he tongue tied. Instead of him being a cassanova like usual he's just staring at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes and pining for you.

Blue Eyed Casanova

Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x Fem Reader

18+ MDNI Sexual Themes

Synopsis: Johnny Casanova pulls you in with his eyes, and you shake up his world with nothing but an unconscious whisper.

--

Look, you can't just throw Johnny's eyes out there and not expect me to go a little crazy. His baby blues fill my soul, okay.

I went back and forth on this for a while. Wanted to do a full fic but went for the drabble instead. Hope you like it.

Also including this with @glitterypirateduck SoapItUp Challenge. Used Prompt 29.

Happy Super Soap Sunday 🧼

You never thought you'd be so enthralled by a man while sitting at a coffee shop.

Hanging on every word, ears perking to the subtle nuances of his thick accent. Going all doey eyed as he reminisced about his younger years back home in Glasgow.

Eyes tracking his hands as accentuated his stories with gentle, undulating movements. Glancing every now and then at his luscious lips that just begged to be kissed.

You had to pull yourself back a few times. The urge to lunge over the table and lock him in an embrace, making your skin tingle and stomach churn with overwhelming eagerness.

But it was his eyes. Those gorgeous, cerulean orbs that sparkled like diamonds in the soft light of the morning sun. A blue that enchanted, pulled you into the maelstrom of his soul, and you were nothing but a wading vessel lost in his turbulent sea.

-

"You have such pretty eyes, Johnny," you whispered under your breath. Barely audible.

Johnny froze mid sentence. Hands raised, cupping the bulk of his account between his palms with his mouth agape and eyes twinkling in boyish bewilderment.

"W-what ya say?"

You smiled. Unashamed at being caught by your verbal plunder.

"I said, you've got the prettiest eyes I've ever seen."

Johnny closed the cavern of his gaping mouth with a dramatic gulp. Adam's apple undulating beneath the flesh of his neck as a rosey hue radiated over the circumference of his cheeks.

And those eyes glistened. Exploding waves of color like a supernova within the whites of deep space.

"Uh- me eyes? Ya- ya like me eyes?" He stuttered. That confident Casanova overtaken by childlike astonishment at the most beautiful words he'd ever heard.

"Yeah, Johnny. I do."

"Um, thanks. Got 'em from me mum. She's got th'most hypnotizin' stare I've ever seen. Y'know, the kind that..."

You couldn't help the curl to your mouth as he rambled on once more. The skiddish waiver on his tongue was all the confirmation you needed that your words had had the unconsciously planned impact.

You leaned over, just enough to cup his jaw in your hands to render him silent to your oncoming approachment.

"You talk too much," you purred, just before placing a tender kiss on his welcoming lips.

A subtle moan reverberated deep within his throat, making your eyes flutter closed as it vibrated against your mouth and echoed down the curve of your spine and into the hollow of your core.

The faintest gasp escaped your lips as you felt his tongue beg for entry into your mouth.

Granting him. Tasting him. Savoring the flavor of espresso and last night's whiskey on his breath as the calloused flesh of his palm cupped the supple curve of your jaw.

You wanted more. Needed more. Begged for the world to disappear and let his skilled hands work you over as his mouth greedily devoured your heart and soul.

The last remnant of your sanity made you pull away. A hushed whimper fell from your lips as your eyes cracked open to see the very flushed face of one breathless Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish.

"Steamin Jesus, lass. Was tha' your plan th'whole time? Makin me swoon all over ya, only fer you to get me all wrecked by them pretty words a'yers?"

"Maybe. Did it work?"

He nodded. Eyes swirling, bright blue darkening like an approaching storm.

"Aye. It did."

He leaned in to take your lips once more, yet you halted him. Pressing your fingers to his mouth while you pursed your lips with a knitted brow.

"Not here. Need somewhere more private."

"Why? Cannae I kiss ya out in public?"

A devious smile crept into your lips. Leaning in while simultaneously grabbing at your purse. Bringing your mouth to his ear to mutter the sweetest temptation and force a pleasured shrill down his spine.

"I don't want you to kiss me on my lips up here, Johnny. I want to see how pretty those eyes are gonna look between my thighs."

Drabbles Masterlist

@deadbranch @sofasoap @punishmepunisher @d3athtr4psworld @glitterypirateduck @shotmrmiller @ghosts-goldendoodle @astraluminaaa @writeforfandoms @obligatoryghoststare @homicidal-slvt @jynxmirage @queen-ilmaree @thetrashpossum @tacticalanxiety @simpingoverquestionablemen @mykneeshurt @kkaaaagt @haurasha @havoc973 @luismickydees @foxface013 @designateddeadend

[willownwisp]

love like a love song

a love sung, is a love that is lived.

author's note: hi, i'm opening my requests now so feel free to send asks for me! just peek at my nuh-uh list in my pinned for the things i'm okay with and fandoms that i write. also i still suck at titles, and pardon if my format isn't set yet, and my writing style changes. i'm an indecisive air sign also pls befriend me </3 it's so lonely in tumbles w/o friends the fic isn't dialogue heavy as i want to focus on feelings. <3 cw: nsfw mdni pls, SOFT AND FLUFFY, reader is a hopeless romantic and leon is hopelessly in love, fem!reader x di!leon kennedy, p in v.

What once was a sneaky mission to ease your midnight munchies turns into embarrassment when Leon, ever the alert and seasoned agent, catches you leaving his side, and unfortunately thwarting your plans as he follows the sound of your soft footsteps towards the kitchen. Finding you and wrapping his arms around your waist, the height difference making you nuzzle up into his chest and you smile up at him. Sleepy blue eyes, looking at you like you were his life line, and he's never shy to admit that you are. So you look at him like he's the only man in the world, you hope your memory etches every detail of his face because you are so disgustingly in love with each other, sometimes words fall short, and you want to love him with all that your body can show. You never learned how to dance, skipping prom might have been the best idea you've ever struck in your high school mind occupied with thoughts of wanting to be different, coupled with your averseness to boys. Leon doesn't dance, never learned to, the only dance he knows is a tango with death most of his life. Perhaps dancing in the palms of top brass? You pick. Yet the two of you both find yourselves in the kitchen at midnight, you in one of his old shirts, faded with time, Leon in his sweats swaying with you to the beat of nothing but the thrumming in his chest as he cradles you close to him.

It's laughably corny how the moonlight illuminates your eyes, the argentine glow of that lone moon like a spotlight as it peeks through the opened kitchen window. No words are spoken when he sways your body along with his as you are caged in his arms, you face him, and he stops in his tracks. If you were a cartoon character, you'd have hearts for eyes by now. Tired blue eyes looking back at yours, and you swoon, because you know you're his life line, and you're proud to be his. Leon captures your lips in a sweet kiss, you sigh in his mouth before your hands reach up to cup his cheeks, the feeling of his stubble on your skin is one of your favorite sensations, second only to him kissing you. Leon kisses you like tomorrow doesn't exist for him, he savors the taste of your lips that murmur sweet nothings when you think he's asleep, yet only pretending to, just to hear you. You're the only tender thing in his life, so he worships the softness of your skin, the gentle youth you had in you, because that will never be him. Your soft sighs, pleasant moans, are adorable to him, especially when you try to reach him, standing on the tips of your toes because you're cute like that. "Leon? Lovey?" "Hm?" "I love you so much my heart almost always wants to explode." You confess to him, and he swears he could cry, but not now. Leon scoops you up in his arms and lays you down the kitchen table unceremoniously. He covers your body with his and he kisses you all over, while you're wide-eyed and sighing whenever his lips land on your skin, leaving a trail of heat. Calloused hands slowly pulling up his old shirt to expose your bare breasts as he rains kisses down on you. Worship and devotion, Leon kisses the valley between your breasts, thumbs massaging your nipples while his kisses trail south. His fingers hooked on your panties before he gently takes it off of you. His lips follow south, pressing open-mouthed kisses on your inner thighs down to your calves. He grins at the glistening wetness on your pussy before he presses a chaste kiss on your clit, another one, and another one before lapping at your wetness like you're a goddess feeding him ambrosia. Because Leon is a starved man, but with your appearance in his life, his hankering for love, affection, company is quenched and more. So he loves you with his mouth until you cum on his tongue. Your fluids coating his stubble but he doesn't care. When his cock slips inside you, he doesn't move, not yet. He puts his weight on you, lacing his fingers with yours because he doesn't just have sex with you. He makes love, because you are the embodiment of love for him. You savor his fullness, and he delights in the way you clench around him. Sometimes he wonders if there is another way to be even closer to you, to be one with your very soul. His thrusts are slow, he doesn't focus on roughness. That was for when he's stressed, or when he has gotten home after an op and wants to feel you, to anchor himself in your warmth. You lazily wrap your legs around his waist and sigh, your hands bringing him down as you cup his cheeks to let his forehead rest on yours. Deep blue eyes that hold the deepest depths of his love for you, and you stare into that ocean and dive with him. When you cum, you cum together. Basking in that love with the beating of both your hearts and the syncing of both your breaths. After a moment of silence, Leon smiles and whispers: "I love you so much that my heart wants to explode."

[geotjwrs]

can you do a Sabrina Carpenter x Male Reader where he (R) ask her to marry him at one of her concerts

short 'n sweet

Pairings ; Sabrina Carpenter x Male!Reader

Warning/s ; none

The crowd buzzed with excitement as Sabrina stepped back onto the stage, her silhouette glowing against the bright lights. The energy in the arena was palpable, a sea of excited fans eagerly awaiting the next song. Sabrina’s smile was warm as she waved at her audience, feeding off their enthusiasm, but tonight was special for more than just her fans. She had a surprise planned for one person in particular—someone who had no idea what was coming.

Y/N stood in the front row, his heart pounding. He had always loved watching Sabrina perform, the way she could light up a stage with her voice and her presence. But tonight felt different. Sabrina had invited him to this concert personally, and while he thought it was just a sweet gesture, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more. He was about to find out just how right he was.

Sabrina grabbed the microphone, her smile turning playful as the band quieted behind her. The crowd settled, sensing something unexpected was about to happen.

“So, I’ve got a little surprise for you all tonight,” Sabrina began, her voice carrying a hint of mischief. The crowd murmured in curiosity, leaning in to catch her next words.

She glanced over at Y/N, her eyes twinkling as if she were holding back a secret. He felt his breath catch in his throat, the noise of the crowd fading as her gaze lingered on him for just a second longer than usual.

“There’s someone really important to me here tonight,” she said, walking to the edge of the stage. Her voice softened, and the atmosphere shifted as if the arena itself was leaning in to listen.

The lights followed her as she stepped down, her hand outstretched toward the front row. The crowd erupted in cheers, but Y/N’s heart nearly stopped when he realized she was heading straight for him. Sabrina smiled, locking eyes with him as she reached out her hand.

“Y/N, would you come up here with me?” she asked, her voice sweet but with a hint of excitement.

The crowd’s cheers grew louder as Y/N, feeling his palms grow sweaty, took her hand. This was unexpected. His heart pounded in his chest as he looked into Sabrina’s eyes, trying to figure out what was going on. She just smiled warmly, her touch steadying him as she pulled him toward the stage.

Security parted the way, and before he knew it, Y/N was being ushered up to the platform. The bright lights were almost blinding, but all he could focus on was Sabrina, her presence calming the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside him.

Sabrina led him to a small stool placed center stage, turning to the crowd with a grin that made the entire arena feel like an intimate gathering. “Alright, guys, this one’s for someone very special.”

The crowd exploded into cheers and applause, but Y/N barely heard it. His entire world had shrunk down to Sabrina standing in front of him, her smile glowing under the spotlight. He sat down, still holding her hand, feeling the rush of adrenaline mixed with confusion and excitement.

Sabrina gave him a soft smile, her eyes locked with his for a moment before she turned back to the microphone.

“Y/N,” she began, “you’ve been such a huge part of my life, and tonight, I wanted to do something just for you. So, I’m going to sing you a little song.”

Y/N’s breath caught in his throat. He had been to so many of her concerts, watched her perform countless times, but this was different. This wasn’t Sabrina Carpenter, the pop star. This was Sabrina, the person he loved, sharing something personal and intimate with him in front of thousands of people.

The guitar strummed softly behind her, the melody slow and sweet. The lights dimmed, leaving the stage bathed in a warm, soft glow. Sabrina began to sing, her voice tender and full of emotion.

It wasn’t one of her hit singles or something that had made the charts. This was something new, something Y/N had never heard before. Her voice floated through the arena, the lyrics delicate and heartfelt. Each word seemed to speak directly to him, telling the story of their time together, the moments that had brought them closer.

The audience fell into a hushed silence, the magic of the moment settling over everyone as Sabrina poured her heart into the song. Her eyes never left his, as if the entire world had vanished and it was just the two of them, alone in the universe.

Y/N could feel the tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, overwhelmed by the love and sincerity in her voice. She was laying her soul bare in front of thousands of people, but all he could think about was how lucky he was to have someone like her in his life.

The song reached its final verse, the melody fading gently as Sabrina’s voice softened to a whisper. The last note lingered in the air, a beautiful, lingering echo of the love they shared. The crowd erupted into applause, but Y/N barely heard it. His chest felt tight with emotion, his heart so full it could burst.

Sabrina took a step closer to him, reaching out her hand. He stood up, taking it, and she pulled him into a gentle hug. “You liked it?” she whispered in his ear, her voice shaky with nerves.

Y/N pulled back just enough to look into her eyes. “That was incredible,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re incredible.”

Sabrina blushed, her smile shy in a way that made Y/N’s heart flutter. They were still standing center stage, the crowd cheering around them, but for that moment, it felt like it was just the two of them, wrapped in their own little bubble of love.

Y/N was overwhelmed. His heart was pounding not just from the concert, not just from the song, but from the realization that he didn’t want to wait any longer. He had carried the velvet box in his pocket for weeks now, waiting for the perfect moment. And now, standing here with Sabrina, bathed in the warmth of the crowd’s love and the intimacy of her song, he knew this was it.

Without thinking, Y/N reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the small velvet box. Sabrina, still holding his hand, felt him pull away slightly. When she turned to look at him, her eyes widened in shock.

The crowd went silent as Y/N dropped to one knee, the bright lights illuminating him as he held the box open in front of Sabrina. The ring sparkled under the stage lights, but all Y/N could see was the look of pure surprise and love on her face.

“Sabrina,” he began, his voice steady despite the emotions coursing through him, “I wasn’t planning this tonight. But after hearing you sing that song, after standing here with you, I realized I don’t want to wait any longer.”

Tears welled in Sabrina’s eyes as she looked down at him, her hand flying to cover her mouth in shock.

“You’ve brought so much joy, so much light into my life,” Y/N continued, his heart racing. “I love you more than words can express. I want to spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you’ve made me. So, Sabrina Annlynn Carpenter, will you marry me?”

For a moment, time stood still. The crowd was silent, holding its collective breath as everyone waited for Sabrina’s response. Y/N felt the world pause, his heart pounding in his chest as he looked up at her, his love for her written in every line of his face.

Sabrina stared down at him, her eyes wide with emotion, her hand trembling as she pulled it away from her mouth. A single tear slipped down her cheek, and then, with a shaky laugh, she nodded.

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. “Yes, of course I’ll marry you.”

The arena exploded into cheers, the noise almost deafening as Y/N slipped the ring onto her finger. He stood up, pulling her into his arms as the crowd roared around them. Sabrina laughed through her tears, her arms wrapped tightly around him as if she never wanted to let go.

“You did it,” she whispered in his ear, her voice trembling with joy.

Y/N pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, his hand gently brushing a tear from her cheek. “I had to. I love you too much not to.”

Sabrina smiled, her eyes shining with happiness as she leaned in, pressing her lips to his in a soft, tender kiss. The crowd cheered even louder, but all Y/N could feel was the warmth of her lips, the softness of her touch, and the overwhelming sense of love that surrounded them.

When they finally pulled apart, Sabrina turned back to the microphone, still holding Y/N’s hand tightly in hers. She laughed, wiping at her tears as she waved to the crowd.

“Well,” she said, her voice full of joy, “I guess we just gave you all a little more than you expected tonight.”

The crowd erupted into laughter and applause, and Sabrina turned back to Y/N, her smile radiant.

“This is the best night of my life,” she whispered, her eyes filled with love as she looked up at him.

Y/N smiled, pulling her close again. “Mine too,” he whispered back. “And it’s only the beginning.”

[14thgalerie]

i peeled my orange today

• pairing: james potter x reader

• now playing:

• word count: 1.3k

• genre: angst

— a short one that i did last night. peeling fruits had always been something that shows the tenderness of humans to me. that one poetry reading about oranges made my heart clench at the thought that came to me of best friend!reader who has always pined for james and the bittersweetness of being too late.

There he was standing by the edge of the lake, his slender silhouette illuminated by the pale blue moonlight. At the crunch of stray leaves, he turns to look at you, his expression containing surprise.

In hushed communion, you stood in silence beside him, opting to fix your gaze on the languid current of the water before you. Capturing a mental photograph of the delicate interplay of the light as it hits the dancing small waves deep into your mind, ingraining the image to a corner that you could visit now and then when you forget the laughter that bounced against the corridors.

For a while, you chose to linger in the sound of the rusting trees surrounding the castle that casts a melody for you. You were in no rush to speak your mind, not when there was a clear understanding that he would stand sentinel for a thousand years should you want to.

17 years of friendship told you that. Threads of shared laughter and silent conversations. Tales that were shared with no urgency.

And so, in the fragile and sacred lull of the moment, you reveled in the comfortable silence. If the years it took to be freed from your heart was to be likened, it would be a while before he could fathom to be in the same space as you.

“James.” You call. Slowly, you turn your head to face him, only to discover that his attention is transfixed on you already.

Finding that gaze studying you; flickering ever so slightly across the features that painted your face— perhaps he already knew the words that were poised to slip out of you. After all, he did know the twists and turns of your soul much more intimately than any other. Those pretty eyes mirrored the waters in front of you with the light hitting the silvers on his waterline.

The 15-year-old kid within you felt enraged to see the swarm of emotions that drowned you in those eyes.

A tempest of desire, and longing, woven with heaps of frustration, and guilt. It was something that held you captive and consumed you for longer than you dare admit, threatening to swallow you whole. As you stand before him, your brain struggles to recall how exactly you escaped it.

Reaching out the hand closest to him to grab his warm hands, missing the way it enveloped your shivering ones. You couldn’t help the fluster of memories that came rushing back and the instinctive way your tear ducts activated.

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs, a tremor infused in the last syllable.

“For what?” You ask, brushing aside tears with a subtle flutter of your lashes. Thumbs caressing the skin on the back of his hand, moving with a patterned path. You didn’t notice it but he did and that realisation added to the weight to the lump that blocked his airways.

“I just stand here and yet I still manage to upset you.” He says, a hesitant exhale lingering between the words.

“What made you think that?” You press.

“If the past year wasn’t enough proof of that, then I don’t think I even know you as well as I would like.”

The words hung in the air like a storm cloud threatening to explode. His lungs relax as he realises how he held his breath when you moved your eyes away. 

The combination of his emotions, adding the ones he still couldn’t pinpoint, left him staggering in his stance. If it weren’t for the way his knees locked from his many years of quidditch, he would be beside you on his knees. 

Every second that passed felt like a sharp blade. The pain was hollow yet deep, striking the centre of his heart and reaching throughout every nerve in his body. And it was only a deep, and unending sense of devastation left in him.

He knew what was coming, a somber revelation that loomed over his head for several weeks already. Yet, he resisted the need to acknowledge it, not when your own countenance showed no obvious indication of it. Thus he indulged himself in this false pretense, allowing himself that at least. Alas, the days kept getting shorter, and the hours were swift in their passage and he was left gripped by a sinking fear as you kept getting further and further away from him even though your physical body remained next to him.

As you always did from the ungraceful encounter on the path to the Hogwarts Express when he was 11, your faces meeting the stone cold ground with a huff.

He couldn’t accept that this would be the culmination of a slow, painful unravelling and elimination of all he knew that defined his every day.

His soul was incredibly and seamlessly intertwined with yours, so intimately bound that he trembled at the thought of the scissors you wield, deadly afraid that they would sever it when he least expected it, leaving behind a scorching mark upon his very essence.

“I peeled my orange today.”

In the hushed atmosphere, your words hung in the air, an admission that crushed you to admit out loud. But from the anguished expression of the man opposite you, you could easily surmise that his emotions far surpassed yours and were nowhere near the ones that hit him at such a mundane divulgence. 

The lake’s tranquil waves lapped against the shore in a rhythmic pattern. The serene waters played a soothing contrast to the tempestuous tide swirling in the recesses of his mind.  He didn’t say anything for a while, the silence between you was heavy with unspoken shared vulnerability. 

However, for you, surprising as it was, it was nothing but a statement now. The words transcended meaning except for a mere reflection of a newfound learning. Something you were proud of enough that you shared the thought with him.

At last, he spoke, his voice filled with subtle remorse that is obscured by a quirk of tenderness that he kept reserved for you. “You did? You didn’t spill the juice all over your hands?” 

James was surprised at himself for the unexpected eloquence that flowed from within him, a symphony of words that were likened to a normal conversation between the two of you. Astonished at the way his voice remained unnervingly steady and held no tremors. It seemed as if the invincible, vice-like grip that threatened to crush his vocal chords vanished.

You cast your gaze upon him again, your eyes directly looking at his own. In that silent exchange, his vulnerability was laid bare, accompanied by a sense of helplessness in them.

Because unlike you, that sentence meant a lot more to him. Because for him, it meant that he could no longer tell you how much he loved you when he couldn’t peel oranges for you anymore.

Your impatient self wouldn’t be hovering next to him as his hands tenderly tore apart the tough skin of the citrus until the soft flesh of the fruit was revealed. The scent of sweet citrus filling the air and the twinkle in your eyes at the pleasing aroma as he splits it apart. The calloused flesh on his fingers that were a stark contrast to the way the figures were so gentle in separating each slice.

It meant that he could no longer ignore the pout that formed when you noticed how he gave you the better half.

James’ heart ached and throbbed in the worst ways possible at that bitter realisation.

“I love you.” 

So despite knowing it was too late, he summoned the courage to tell you in the way you’ve always yearned for in the sidelines. 

In reply, you whispered “I love you too.” accompanied by a genuine smile that felt natural.

He just didn’t expect your hurt to feel like this. 

masterlist

[teddybeartoji]

thinking a lot of thoughts about bf!gojo :(

he will be the sweetest bf ever.. it's a bit concerning with how attached he is to you, bordering on codependency but he just cant help it he loves you too much :(( everytime youre both together on something like lunch with friends or hanging out the sight of you two is enough to give anyone who spares a glance cavities.. his eyes are so in love and hes always got that dopey smile on his face, his touch is always gentle and caring despite him being a teasing asshole sometimes 😭

and behind closed doors ... dear god this man is INSATIABLE.. always has to have a hand around you and touching you !!!! and his sex drive.. erm.. yeah.. idk i see him as the type to want to do it everyday because he just loves you too much and he doesnt know what to do with himself and all this love he has !!!! theres something sweet about him just always wanting you and wanting to make you feel good eufnhffhehrjfnf

the stark difference between you two being such a sweet couple in public but also .. having seen each other INSIDE OUT quite literally is so hot and cute.. :( that level of intimacy .. :((( BF!GOJO WE NEED YOU !!!!!! ok this has gotten too long im sorry HAVE A GOOD DAY THANK YOU

HIIII MY SWEETHEART I'M SORRY FOR THE WAIT!!!! BUT I'M HERE I'M HERE I'M HERE!!!!! I'M HERE AND I'M FEELING TERRIBLY SOFT FOR HIM AND I NEED TO HAVE HIM IN MY ARMS RIGHT THIS INSTANT!!!!!!! i agree with everything you've said nonnie!!!! and i am covering you in kisses as thanks!!!! mwah mwah mwah!!!! wait also!!!!!!!!!!!! more exclamation marks!!!!!! please please please don't apologize for rambling!!!!!!!!!! i will always hear you out!!!!! i want more actually!!!!!!!!!!!! please!!!!!!!!!!!!! i love you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ok everybody get comfortable bc i have some of bf!gojo headcanons for you!!!!

his pupils are literal hearts whenever he's with and whenever he's Thinking about you!!!! (i'm saying that his pupils are always like that)(he is simply unable to get you off his head)(he's not even trying)(he's so fucking in love with you).

he's constantly resting his head on your head or on your shoulder. this just came to me. he wraps his hands around your middle and he always gives you a squeeze!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and a kiss on your neck. and he probably (read: definitely) smells you. and then hums into your skin. omfg i need to hug him so badly. i am losing my mind here nonnie...

okay and i just talked abt him taking naps with you too, right? and i just can't stop thinking about him always taking pics of you whenever you fall asleep on top of him:(((((((((((((( drooling or not, he's taking the pic!!!!!! AND i truly believe that he has begged (literally begged down on his hands and knees) shoko and suguru, so that they'll take pics of the two of you together aswell!!! satoru has a folder with like a THOUSAND pics of you both just napping together:((( he goes through it whenever he's really missing you:(((((((

ok and he loves taking showers and baths with you. loves, loves, loves. he just wants to sit under or in the water with you, just feeling your skin against him. feeling your heartbeat against him. he likes the intimacy of it all. it's so tender and so soft and so loving and he just wants to do everything with you. he's gonna take a fucking piss with you if you'd only let him.

he loves your smile sm. this is such a basic little concept but he does. nothing else in this sick world brings him as much joy as your smile and laughter. and oh my fucking god his heart feels like it's going to explode whenever he makes you laugh (which is all the time let's be honest he's very fucking funny and he is not afraid of making himself look like a fool just for you<3). he loves it when you laugh at cat videos, he loves it when you laugh at whatever the fuck is playing on the tv and he loves it when you laugh at a joke one of his friends make!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! he goes a little insane whenever he sees you having fun with his friends:((((((((((((((((((((( it just means the world to him:(((( and you and the younger ones too!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! omfg when he sees you coddling gumi and yuuji and nobara:((((((((((((((((( stop, he literally feels like he's going to cry every time i am also crying i can't do this anymore

btw he always swings your hands whenever his fingers are interwiened with yours!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ahhhh!!!!!!! and he has that big dopey smile on his lips again and his dimples are showing and he's laughing so loudly that everybody is turning to look at you both on the street but you couldn't care any less!!!!!!! how could you when your boyfriend is making your heart grow twice the size it was before and you just feel so giddy and so full of love and you want to kiss him stupid!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

he loves spending his morning with you. i actually think of him as more of a morning person actually idk how popular that concept is but yeah. don't get me wrong - he refuses to let you up from the bed for at least an hour after you wake up but he does have a lot of energy. he wants to kiss and he wants to hug and he wants to tickle and he wants you to play with his hair and he wants and he wants and he wants and you will give and give and give!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! he's a little lovesick puppy and he needs your attention like he needs air!!!!!

and then he wants you to brush his teeth for him. yes. you read that right. he sits you down onto the bathroom counter and bares his teeth at you like the puppy that he is and HE'S SO FUCKING CUTEEEEEE FUCKKKK CUTENESS AGGRESSION IS SO REAL I NEED TO JUST SQUEEZE HIM A LITTLE AAAAAAAAAAA I NEED TO PINCH HIS CHEEEKS!!!!!!!!!!!! he still looks sleepy and his smile is so fucking big and his hands are resting on your hips, his thumbs are drawing hearts into your skin. and he most definitely kisses you before he actually rinses his mouth.............. and then laughs when the toothpaste gets all over you. it's a mess and he's laughing and you're in love.

he loves it when you baby him. he does ask for it as a joke but when you genuinely do it he gets a little flustered. the tips of his ears always turn into a shade of dark pink and he's looking at you like puss in boots. you know what i'm talking abt. big eyes, fluttering eyelashes - he loves you so fucking much. he loves it when you tuck him in bed, he loves it when you kiss his nose, he loves it when you pinch his cheeks i am biased i just said i want to do that don't look at me, he loves it when you tickle him!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WAIT STOP HE LOVES IT WHEN YOU TICKLE HIM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!! HE WANTS YOU TO STRADDLE HIM AND TICKLE THE LIVING FUCK OUT OF HIM HE WANTS TO LAUGH WITH YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i died

he also loves it when you cling to him. in any way. hands around his neck, around his body, around his arms - it does not matter. he wants you to quite literally climb him like a tree. he loves it when you snuggle into him and when you refuse to let him go. and when you hold his hand and try to stop him from leaving. he's not going to go. it doesn't take a lot for him to give into you. he's folding immediately. he doesn't want to go either. he loves it when you're needy. he loves it when you whine. he loves it when you tease him. he might pop a boner. at everything you do. he just loves you sooooooooooo muchh!!

18+ HE IS INSATIABLE!!!!!!!!!!!!! HE IS THEE LOVERBOY!!!!!! i think he does like to get a taste of you every single day, no matter whether it's actually having sex or it's eating you out or it's just making out or it's entertaining you with his beautiful slender fingers or it's dry humping etcetcetc. he wants to touch you, he wants to feel you - it's a must!!

i already said it but he loves intimacy!!!! like yeah ofc he likes his freaky sex as much as the next guy (he most definitely likes it more than the next guy) but he loooooves when he can just be in the moment with you!! he's always savouring you - holding your hand when his burying his dick deep inside you, he's snaking his arm around your body as he grinds into you from behind. he's licking and nipping at your skin because he just can't get enough of you. he's sucking on your tongue, he's pressing your hips down against his, he's kissing every fucking inch of your body. i truly think he wants to eat you and he wants to devour you and he wants to merge the two of you together forever<33

okay i have officially melted away... i am a puddle of love Goo... ily nonnie

[minnaci]

POST-SHOW AFTERGLOW

contents: heartsteel!shieda kayn x afab gn!reader (reader's anatomy is described using the words "pussy", "cunt", "clit", and "cervix"), bottom!reader, use of insertive sex toys by reader, kayn walks in on reader masturbating, established relationship, bedsheet banter, fingering, penis-in-vagina sex, cervix mention, light dumbification, creampie, post-coital cockwarming

watching kayn perform live never fails to get you hot and bothered. luckily, kayn is always willing to take responsibility.

or, kayn fucks reader after a heartsteel concert. it's ridiculously good.

there's a wild sort of energy that ebbs and flows around kayn post-show. adrenaline— lightning in a bottle. he's on top of the world. he'd win any fight. he's ready for anything—

his train of thought comes to an abrupt end as he nudges open the door to your bedroom, and immediately, every cell in his body is subsumed by the low-burning embers of arousal.

he is not ready for this.

blankets lay crumpled around your spread legs. you're an angel, every curve caressed by soft light, and your eyes are squeezed shut as you fuck yourself on a thick dildo.

kayn recognizes that toy. it's the one that's the closest to his size and shape. you only use it when you're feeling particularly needy for him, or when you miss him. a soft, tender ache blooms in his chest.

"kayn," you whimper, sugar sweet. you don't seem to have noticed him, lost in your own world of pleasure. "kayn, please, please, i need you, please—"

your voice breaks on a sob, and kayn's mouth goes dry. his fingers curl with the need to take.

"what a nice surprise." kayn's smirk widens into a full, cocky grin when your eyes fly open and you squeak with surprise.

"kayn!" your hands scramble to pull the toy out, and kayn greedily watches as your pretty hole gapes ever so slightly, fluttering around air. another shot of heat, straight to his cock.

"oh, don't stop on my account," kayn says. "i'm just enjoying the show."

your resultant pout creases right between your eyebrows, and he lets loose a laugh, crossing the room in three eager, bounding steps to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. his tongue flickers out, and he licks into your mouth. he loves how you melt in his arms, how you always let him in so easily. you're so perfect for him. he's just about to crawl into bed and show you just how perfect he thinks you are when—

"shower first," you murmur against his lips, as if you hadn't been making a mess of the sheets for hours before he came home.

"but—" kayn knows exactly what you're about to say. he's got "dirty" clothes on, so he can't get on the bed, which is "clean". but can anyone really blame him when you look so tempting, so obscene, that his brain hurts from how hard his cock is?

"kayn—"

"hear me out." he presses a few sweet, pleading kisses to your cheeks, relishing in the way you melt under his easy affection.

"...fine."

"you're so beautiful, baby. look at you all fucked out. do you really expect me to make it a whole shower without jerking off? and if i jerk off, i'll cum, and there won't be anything left in the ol' sacks to fill you with."

you raise an eyebrow, clearly not impressed. damn it. looks like kayn has to bring out the big guns.

"...i'll wash the sheets after we're done," kayn adds. "so they'll be clean again."

"you really want me so bad you'd do laundry for me?" you swoon dramatically— a feat when you're already laying in bed. "is this what it means to be loved?"

"you're a menace," he says. it can't be legal for you to be both cute and devastatingly sexy at the same time. fuck, he loves you so much he swears he'll explode with it. his chest tightens. his fists clench. he can't stand it.

he pounces onto you, heart singing at the elated little yelp you let out as he presses a flurry of kisses to your face.

"i love you," kayn growls, incongruously aggressive for how sweet the words are. his fingers find their way between your thighs, rubbing where you want it the most. he dips inside, just a little, but you tense as if he's shoved all five (and a half!) inches inside of you at once.

"love you— love you too, kayn—"

fuck, he could listen to you saying his name just like that for years, and he'd never go soft.

"relax for me, baby." he stretches you in gentle, practised movements, head spinning as you obey, body going pliant under his covetous hands. you're so perfect for him, already soft and wet from your earlier stint with your toy. your lips find his weak spot— the tender patch of skin right between the junction of his neck and jaw— and he groans, feeling a little insane as you rock back against his fingers, dripping sweet and sticky like warm honey.

"i can't hold back much longer," he says, voice strangled.

"so don't." your breath catches as the tip of his finger brushes against your sweet spot, so he does it again, just to hear you gasp. he could get lost in this, this pleasure of playing your body like the finest of instruments, pulling sound after needy, dripping sound from your pretty mouth.

"kayn— kayn, please, stop teasing, don't hold back, please, i need you—" the sheer desperation in your voice makes kayn's blood sing with pleasure, and he gently removes his fingers from your aching hole, much to your chagrin. you line up the head of his cock with your entrance, shuddering as it pulses a thick glob of pre-cum over your skin. "inside, inside, please—"

-

there's nothing quite like the initial stretch of kayn's cock as he bullies his way inside of you. he's so thick, and the way he's got you folded makes him feel even bigger. your jaw hangs slack, every nerve trembling with anticipation.

the tip of his cock nudges inside, and you both let out twin moans. your cunt is hungry for it. desperate, even— your gaze goes hazy and unfocused as your pussy sucks softly at his tip.

"so fucking good," he groans. "how are you so fucking good every time?"

if you could speak, you'd say that you could ask him the same thing, but any semblance of coherent speech is knocked from the forefront of your mind as he eases deeper into you. every additional inch of his hot, throbbing cock only serves to make your mind go blank with pleasure. your eyes roll back, flutter shut.

"fuuuck, that's it, baby. feels good, doesn't it?" kayn shudders as he bottoms out. the very tip of his cock kisses a spot deep inside, so sensitive that it sends a thrill up your spine. "there it is— there's that weak spot. yeah, let me use it against you, baby. 'm gonna fuck all that resistance right out of your pretty hole..."

he rolls his hips once, twice, giving a few deep, experimental thrusts. true to his word, his cock massages over your sweet spot. you can't fight the onslaught of sensation, and even if you could, you wouldn't want to. it's so, so good— too good to resist, too good to fight. pleasure melts your brain, turning every coherent thought you might have had to gooey bliss.

your jaw hangs slack. your head spins. pleasure curls around your limbs, pulling you to new heights of mindless need.

"yeah, that's right. this is what you needed, isn't it?"

you don’t have to reply— the answer is written in the slight crossing of your eyes, the subtle trembling of your ribcage, the thin line of saliva that drips from the corner of your mouth. heat builds in your core, spreading like fire across your skin, and you let loose a long moan.

“kayn…” you struggle to make eye contact, lucidity slipping through your fingers with every devastating thrust.

“no thinking,” he says. his thumb finds your clit. the added stimulation makes it all too easy to obey. any semblance of logical thought dissipates into hazy pleasure. you wouldn’t be surprised if your brain was leaking straight out of your dripping cunt.

“no thinking,” you repeat dumbly, looping your arms around his neck and pulling him close. your fucked-out gaze meets his, and he curses under his breath, cock pulsing inside of you. through it all, he continues rubbing those maddening, mind-melting circles on your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

heat envelopes you, swallows you whole and digests you, transforming you into a being of need and pleasure. your nerves sing with molten arousal. every touch, every breath, every heartbeat only sends you spiraling further and further into the depths of debauchery.

“that’s it, baby, let me make you feel good, yeah, yeah—” kayn babbles, his hips stuttering out of rhythm. it makes his cock slide in that much deeper, makes his thumb slip just right against the hood of your clit, and— and—

you fall apart on his cock with a wail, unable to resist the overwhelming pleasure. it burns through you, sets the stars ablaze behind your eyelids. your sanity shatters as you all but convulse, gorging yourself on decadent sensation.

thick, creamy warmth floods your insides, and you practically purr at the way the tip of kayn’s cock kisses the sensitive mouth of your cervix. he’s still mumbling mindless praises against the soft skin of your neck even as he fucks you through both of your orgasms. his voice takes on an edge of wretched desperation. “so good, so good, it hurts, baby, hurts good, i— i— fuck…”

he collapses over you, sheathing himself balls-deep with a groan. the last dregs of his cum drool from his tip, dribbling over your sensitive walls. your pussy flutters around him in response, hungry for every last drop of him, and he nearly whimpers at the added sensation. pain and pleasure swirl around you in a heady cocktail of hormones as you come down from your highs together.

when kayn kisses you, it feels right— the natural product of the raw desire that connects you. his lips move against yours sweetly, softly, and he holds you like you’re the most precious thing in the world. the afterglow is made for kissing, for heavy petting, for the cooling of sweat and softening of breaths.

"what was that all about?" kayn murmurs in the hazy quiet, pulling you closer to him. you grumble a bit as his soft cock shifts inside of you, threatening to fall out, and he makes a soothing little noise, ignoring the pricks of painful overstimulation and focusing on keeping you nice and warm and full.

"what was what all about?"

"don't play, baby. what had you so needy tonight?"

"...ah." your face heats up, and you bury your nose in his chest. still, it doesn't muffle your next words. "you looked really, really good on stage tonight. i couldn't stop looking at your stupid bulge through your stupid leather pants."

the honestly is unexpected enough to subvert kayn's knee-jerk instinct to be insufferable and smug. he gapes at you. "you're so fucking cute."

“mhm,” you hum in agreement. “and you’re beautiful. so we match.”

there’s a frazzled sort of silence as kayn short-circuits from the praise. for someone who presents with such an inflated ego, his reaction to genuine compliments is nothing short of charming.

"so... the sheets?" you break the silence, only half-joking.

kayn groans. “i’ll wash them tomorrow. let me enjoy this, baby.”

“i’m holding you to it.” you bury your face in his chest, heart melting a bit as his lips brush over the crown of your head. dirty sheets or not, there’s nowhere else you would rather be than here, limbs tangled with his, soaking in your shared pleasure.

tags: @enchantedforest-network @angelshub

[oompaloompadidu]

What about Dazai having a fetish for women who have a powerful aura and who are older than him? By the way, the reader is one of these types of women

hiii! I literally LOVED writing this, thanks for the request!

It also took me a while even if it's kinda short but English is not my first language so...

HOPE YOU LIKE IT

UwU you literally read my mind, I too think he has a fetish for women like that~

𝕮𝖆𝖓'𝖙 𝖌𝖊𝖙 𝖊𝖓𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍✮⋆˙

You work for the Ada since almost seven months. Since you joined the agency, he couldn't stop thinking about you, he watched you when he thought you didn't see him, he admired you from far away. The way you walked, as if every room you walked in was yours, your eyes, those damn eyes of your that looked so tender and yet so cruel at the same time. He would drown in those eyes. He would stare at them for hours without even realizing it. He got to go on missions with you, and the thing he most like is that you're so incredibly different from everyone else he knows. No one would react like you do. No one thinks like you do. He loves going on mission with you, he feels so small when he sees you smiling at the enemies, a smile he would never want to receive, not 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 smile of yours. He knows that when he sees it you're most likely going to kick the shit outta them, and he loves it. He loves seeing how strong you are, how you don't care how far you go once you're 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 angry. He sees a small resemblance, between the two of you, even if you never said it (after all, why should you?) he somehow knows you must be or have been in pain too. Like him. He never felt like someone, he never even though he could meet a woman who was even slightly like him. But you were. You were not desperate as he is, he's perfectly aware of that, and somehow the fact that you're not even if you're living the same situation he is only makes him more attracted to you. He saw so many things about you, and he was so convinced a woman as strong as independent as you would never, never ever like him. Why should you like him after all? What could he offer you that you didn't have already? What does he have that you could 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦? Nothing. He spent so many days since you joined the ada about what he could give you to get your attention, but he only came to the conclusion he could never reach your level. After all, you're the devil. You're devil for him. You're dangerous, cruel, beautiful, sweet as an angel could be. So you must be the devil. You'll be the poison he will happily drown himself in, forever.

You two just finished a mission, as always he almost didn't need to do anything. You were a genius, a monster when it came to fighting skills, so 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦 he didn't have to do anything.

"I'm cold."

He blink and turns to look at you. He was definitely caught off guard when he heard you saying that you were 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥. Your hands were covered of blood, keeping the documents in a strong grip. Yes, he knows Kunikida and the President won't be happy about how you got the information needed, but he... He loved it. He adored it, you. He realizes he wasn't answering and blink again, shaking his head to go back to reality "ah... take my coat" he puts the light brown coat on your shoulders, watching as it almost touches the ground (it's way too long for you).

"won't you be cold, though?"

And here again. Your voice. Your eyes. You were asking if 𝘩𝘦 was going to be good, you were worried for him... With that sweet voice that he makes him flutter every time, even if he knows it's part of your weapon. "...me? No. No, I'll be fine."

"Dazai-san"

He feels his heart exploding, it may seem weird but you actually never called him by his name "yes?" He answered instantly, probably looking like a pathetic idiot waiting for you to call him

"humanity is overrated."

"...eh?" He looks at you with a dumbfounded expression, totally confused. "What does that even mean?"

"why, don't you get it?"

Again. Why. Why do you have to say such weird thins and think he'll understand. He's not a damn genius as you are. "I don't understand..."

"I see. I was just thinking, that being human is not such a thing to crave"

He blinks. 𝘖𝘩. 𝘖𝘩𝘩𝘩𝘩. 𝘕𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘪𝘵. "You say so?"

"I do."

He nods "hm. Maybe I can say so too." There are a few minutes of silence, then he turns around to look into your eyes. Ah, if he could swing in those eyes. For him, they seem the universe. So deep, so beautiful, so different every time, so many stars you can admire..

"Y/n."

"yes?"

"... I...."

There are a few moments of silence, then his voice again

"even if you asked the most terrible thing.... I would do anything you wish me to."

He feels his heart dropping when you don't reply and keep a straight face. Did he go to far?... Shouldn't he have said it?...

"I see."

𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯? Is it good? Did you accept...?

He freeze when you lean on his shoulder and press your forehead against his. Damn. He feels his heart clenching so hard it could stop to beat, but somehow it was beating stronger than it ever did. He was happy. He was, for the first time in his life, he felt something. Thanks to you. He had experience with women before you, but God knows he never loved any. He could not feel anything at all, for no one, for nothing. Now he wants you to keep making him feel things, as if he was just a child. Because he is, he feels like he child when he's with you, a feeling he never managed to get... As if you were his savior, always, forever, even if he knows he's probably just attracted to a devil. But the Devil is an angel too.

"I love you..."

"I know."

[danses-with-dogmeat]

fallout 3 and fallout new vegas companions trying to flirt with lone/six for the first time?

FO3 Crushing! Companions Try to Flirt with Lone for the First Time

I. Absolutely. Love. This. The mental images that this prompt inspired were just lovely 👏👏

Sorry this took like... literal years to get out 😅 I hope you like it!

Fallout New Vegas is on the way as well, so look out for that... eventually :)

Butch:

He’d flirted with them before… only, even he hadn’t really known that that’s what it was. His mom often said he liked them, and other adults commented similarly when Lone and him were kids, but he’d always made disgusted faces, retching noises or flipped the people off that tried to tell him he liked Lone. Of all people, Lone?! No, not Butch. He bullied them, he disliked them, if anything. 

At least, then, that’s what he believed. Now though, Butch knew the truth, and he couldn’t believe how stupid he’d been all along. He plans to make up for lost time, to correct those little errors of his from the past. Butch has a short lifetime of flirting under his belt, and he means to put all that experience to good use. 

Just need to find the right time. Can’t do it out of the blue, not with Lone, can’t risk something like that. Has to be all romantic an’ shit…

–

“See anything you like?” Butch wiggled his eyebrows as Lone’s blurry form swam into focus. “You’re… awfully close to me, baby.” 

“Butch?” They mumbled, and he noticed that their eyes were closed. He’d thought they’d been staring at him, but their eyes were closed.

Just my luck…

“Butch, you’re awake?” Lone nearly jumped out of their seat as their blinking eyes widened in shock. “How do you feel?” 

“I feel great, baby. How’re you?” 

Their brows furrowed quickly, confusion warping their concerned features. 

“You were hurt, Butch. A car, some raiders… It exploded and you passed out, lost some blood, you… I wasn’t sure when you were going to wake up. The doctor said you might not.” 

Butch’s foggy mind began to clear, a headache began to form at the front of his skull, and the aches in his body became more and more pronounced with each word that left his companion's mouth. 

…I what? 

“Lone, only blood I loss was because you pierced my heart.” 

That one sounded good, right? That one should really drop the hint to ‘em. 

Butch grinned at the thought. 

“Oh, Butch…” They reached out a hand, tentatively reaching for his forehead and brushing away a few strands of hair. “You’re still coming out of it, huh? Just rest, okay?”

A new determination burned through his aching joints, his battered body. At the feel of Lone’s tender touch, at the realization of their obliviousness to his, frankly obvious, feelings, Butch tried again. 

“Can’t rest. Not now baby. Not ‘till you’re mine. Not ‘till you see it… See the way I feel.”

He tried to get up, to emphasize his point, but his arms could hardly move. The blanket that was stretched over his half-bare body felt like sandpaper over his burned and blistered flesh, and his muscles roared in painful protest at every movement. 

A groan left him at the sudden pain of it. 

“Butch, no, easy.” Lone’s hands gently encouraged him to stay down, and their eyes shone with sympathy that made his chest ache from more than his wounds. “You must be half delirious to be saying all this, but… don’t try to get up, okay? Just try and rest.” 

He wanted to listen to them, wanted to do what his partner asked, wanted to please them that way, but he needed Lone to know. 

It’s been too long. Maybe this deliriousness is what I needed. 

Shoulda tried this earlier.

“Lone, no. You gotta understand-”

“Butch, shh.” They laid a finger over his lips as their other hand stroked over his shoulder. “There’s time. You can tell me everything soon. I want to hear it, okay? Trust me, I do. But now, please… just rest for me. Work on healing, just for a little while. Then you can tell me how you feel.”

Butch’s eyes closed without his permission, their sweet words lulling him back to blissful unconsciousness as their hand continued it’s soothing stroking over a bit of unmarred skin on his arm.   

“And then,” He heard, just as he felt sleep wrapping him in its embrace, “Then I can tell you how I feel, too.” 

The last thing he could recall was a simple touch. In reality, it was faint, but to Butch, their lips upon his forehead felt like a heavy crash, an avalanche of weight poured over him that left nothing in its wake but the possibilities. For his future, and for theirs. 

Charon:

“Wait.” A large, calloused hand grasped at Lone’s shoulder as they made a move to step out from behind the pillar. “I’ll go first.” Charon’s rough voice sounded close to their ear as his hand stayed firmly on them, encouraging their form to move back behind cover once more.

“Why? Did you hear something?”

Charon paused at his companion’s inquiry. Did they think it was odd that he took precautions? That was his job, wasn’t it? It was in his contract...

But we both know I don’t always follow every little rule the paper alludes to in the finer print.

The ghoul cleared his throat, retracting his hand from Lone’s shoulder as he moved to step in front of them, pointedly avoiding their gaze as he thought through what he should say.

Charon didn’t ever recall being so concerned for his employer’s safety before. In fact, it was more likely he would do the bare minimum that was required to keep them from being blown to bits or falling off a cliff than it was for him to go out of his way to ensure their safety of his own accord. He had to follow orders, had to step in harm’s way, should it suddenly become clear to him that they would be injured or killed if he didn’t do so, and… That was it. The contract never mentioned the careful thought process he now went through each time the pair entered into a potentially dangerous situation. Nowhere in the paper did it say that his heart would need to flutter with anxiety when his companion was in danger, or that his body should flush with the heat of anger when a bullet did happen to graze them. The contract never told him to remain up all through the night, poised and ready for an unexpected attack, or lie awake in Lone’s dim room, his mind fraught with worry for the next day.

Yet, here he was. Doing all of that. When the hell had all this happened?

Charon tried to convince himself that it was only due to Lone’s kindness, to their low-maintenance in comparison to the likes of his previous employers. He tried to tell himself that the only reason he didn’t want them dead was because then he’d be saddled with some other asshole he had to answer to, but Charon knew deep down that that was bullshit. Even when his employers had been bearable, he’d never felt this strongly for them.

A moment of silence passed before Charon finally fixed his companion with his intense, icy gaze.

“No.” He said simply, “I didn’t hear anything.”

Their eyebrows scrunched together and Charon saw the question forming in their mind. Before they could even voice it, he replied.

“I just want to keep you safe.”

Clover:

“Sugar, you know I mean it when I tell you you look good, right?”

Clover always flirted, it was more of a personality trait than a conscious action at this point. It was just the way she was, the way she had been told to be, made to be for so many years that it just became a part of her. Now was different though, she always flirted without realizing it, but now… Well, she actively wanted to, and of course, of course Lone would be impervious to it. Did they really not notice? They almost seemed to ignore her little compliments, her teasing words and forward touches, and Clover does not like being ignored under any circumstance.

Finally, one day, she'd been driven to confront her companion about it.

“What’s your problem, huh? What’ve you got against me?” Clover finally burst out after the umpteenth time she’d said something sickly sweet that they’d just completely brushed off like a dead leaf on their jacket.

Look, she’d tried being subtle, she’d tried being low-key as much as the ex-slave could be, then she’d gotten more aggressive with her verbal affections, she’d gotten more direct with her lingering touches and her suggestive comments, but Sole seemed to just laugh off all of it, or worse, they’d pretend as if she didn’t do anything at all.

Clover was over it.

“Is it the way I look, huh?" She held her arms out wide, and Lone shrank back in response. "Is it cuz of my past, then? What, I been with too many folks for you to handle? What?”

“Clove,” Lone looked down at the floor in… what, embarrassment? Shame? It was hard to tell. “I didn’t realize–” 

“No, you look at me, sweetheart. Look me in the eye as you tell me what I don’t wanna hear.” 

“I didn’t want to take advantage of you, is all” Their gaze was sympathetic as it met her sizzling expression. 

“What?” 

“It’s like you said, about your past… I wasn’t sure if you, well, how you felt about me at all. Not when, your whole life, you’ve been forced to try and attract everyone around you, to be suggestive and touchy and I didn’t just want to be another asshole that only sees you as a piece of meat.” 

They wrung their hands with their confession, but their eyes stayed locked to hers, just like she'd asked. 

“Because I don’t. I… I like you, Clove.”

“You… Honest? You really do?” She took a step closer, her expression vastly changed from the flared nostrils and low brows she’d had before. Elation hung behind a thin curtain of disbelief. 

“Well, yeah. I just… Didn’t want you to think that’s why I bought your– well, you."

The word sounded so hollow, and Clover felt it like a pang in her chest. It wasn't often that she let her past hurt her this way. That wasn't a trend she could afford to start, but seeing the way it pained Lone to speak about...

"You don’t owe me anything." They continued somberly, "It’s as I said before, you’re free to go, if that’s what you want–”

“It’s not, sugar.” Clover shook her head as a poorly contained smile tugged at her full lips, as her hands went to either side of Lone's face, her thumbs brushing over their cheeks. “As I’ve been tryin’ to tell ya all this time… I want you.” 

She couldn't help all the flirting she did, both before, and after their conversation. Her past also made it hard for her to know which feelings of hers were truly real, as opposed to ones put in place in order to defend herself. Clover's still working all of that out, but just knowing... Understanding Lone's point of view, and hearing the genuine words leave them... It made the process of falling for someone easier than it's ever been before.

Cross:

“A very good shot. You must have exemplary eyesight, ma’am/sir.”

The action of flirting never came naturally to the Paladin. Obviously it wasn't high on her priority list when it came to skills she sought to perfect. If it were, her proficiency in other areas, with focuses on survival and combat prowess, surely would've suffered. But at this rate, she wished she could've had at least some form of training in the subtle art of wooing someone. Not just any someone, but Lone. Her companion, her friend, someone not in the Brotherhood, someone who wouldn't cause her to break decorum if she were to be with them.

It was a strange sensation, knowing that she had feelings for Lone. She was rarely certain about these things, and she almost never caught feelings for anyone. Maintaining distance from those around you, remaining indifferent to people you spend inordinate amounts of time with, it's a burden every soldier had to bear if they hope to defend their hearts and minds from the brutality of sudden and bitter loss. And yet, here she was, catching feelings for a civilian.

Perfect.

Cross tried to ignore it for ages, but it only seemed to become more obvious the more she attempted to conceal it. She would stumble over her words, blush more, become embarrassed about certain uncivilized things soldiers shouldn't think twice about. Why did she have such a hard time asking Lone to halt when she has to… relieve herself? She's a damn Star Paladin for Christ's sake, taking a ten-one shouldn't effect her in such a way.

In the end, she would find herself utterly unable to keep from at least complimenting her companion on their combat skills, their abilities as a diplomat that she so admired, their compassion towards others, and even their athletic physique. Is it really flirting? Hopefully Lone thinks so, because this as much as the Paladin can seem to muster in the ways of wooing.

Fawkes:

“You are a good companion, and an even better friend. I am beyond fortunate to have you in my life, and if ever there is anything you need, I will be here.”

Fawkes isn't quite sure what all of these feelings mean. The way his stomach tingles, a smile involuntarily crinkles his eyes, how he feels so warm inside when he looks at his companion. Is it friendship? Friendship is strong, and he felt strongly towards Lone, that, he knew.

When it comes down to it, Fawkes has no idea what he's doing as he relentlessly compliments this incredible person beside him. He's simply honest with his companion. Fawkes thinks they're the bravest person he's met, they have a good sense of humor, a kind heart, and they gave him a chance when no one else would even think to. He's proud to call Lone his friend, and he doesn't hesitate to let everyone know.

The day he finds out that it's more than friendship that he feels for his companion, Fawkes becomes, well... quite shy. Though, he'd never want to waver in his compliments, as he believes in being genuine and would never feel embarrassed about telling Lone the truth, he'd be more careful with his word choice, and the comments would be less frequent. As he continues his assault of kind words, praise, and appreciation for his companion; he would be planning his confession to them. Lone deserved to know the way he felt, even if they didn't feel the same. He just had to tell them, because, if they did feel the same? It would change his whole world for the better.

Jericho:

"Fuck, kid. You're crazier than I am, heh."

No form of praise is light praise, when it comes to Jericho. The ex-raider has a sorta allergy to compliments, especially the genuine kind, but Lone, he likes.

So what if he tells 'em that they're nuts enough to run with him? He can eye them up when they make a great shot, or tell them they're a badass when they make some shit explode, check out their ass in those tight road leathers they like to wear. That doesn't mean nothing.

He's too old for any of that shit, anyway. No, Jericho outgrew the ability to have feelings for anyone when he was about 10 years old. An' his conquests back in his raider days had left him full enough for two lifetimes in terms of companionship.

Nah, Lone was just... They were alright. The first 'alright' vault dweller he's ever met, and the first person in ages that didn't make him wanna set off that bomb in Megaton's center and give them all a little peace.

It wasn't 'till his actions started reflecting those little glimpses of... whatever the fuck was going on with Lone, that he even realized he was acting out of character.

Sure, sharing ammunition and helping 'em scavenge enough scraps to fix up their armor, sewing up a wound while they gritted their teeth, and swapping food stores wasn't anything groundbreaking, but... Well, he's never done any of that shit with past traveling companions. Hell, he more so wished his past companions’ armor would fail so he could loot their corpse when they dropped, that they wouldn't notice the ammo he swiped from their pack at night, that their wound would fester and he could have a few more caps in his pocket when they didn't wake up from fevered sleep.

With Lone though... it went even further. Giving them first dibs on loot, offering to carry more of their shit, so they could have a lighter load, sharing a fucking cigarette with 'em. That shit was strange.

Cigs are like straight fucking gold to the ex-raider, and yet...

Shit...

Look, they wanna run with an old raider like him, Lone has gotta be the one to say it, to admit any feelings. But those actions of his? That's as loud as Jericho gets with the vulnerable shit, everything else is in their hands.

[leaawrites]

Lie to Girls (LH44)

Lewis Hamilton x fem!reader

Summary: in which, both lie to themselves to keep the butterflies alive.

Warnings: angst, lying, bit toxic behavior, swearing,

Wordcount: 0.8k

Masterlist, Short n'Sweet Series

It could’ve been different if she was someone else. Someone who was able to confess their own thoughts and not let the mirror blind her when looking at him. The pink tinted glasses of life taking over her whenever he did something he swore not to do, reminding her of all good he’d done for her.

“Lewis, why is the bottle standing there. Half empty?”

She knew he’d been drinking, more than before. She knew he lied to her about it. She knew he wouldn’t stop now and be honest with her all of a sudden. It wasn’t his way of life. Whatever happened, as long as it was bad, never happened because of him. It was always something outside of his control.

“Baby, I swear, I only had one drink. It was already this empty when I took from the cabinet.”

It wasn’t. She knew it wasn’t, because it was a new one he bought yesterday. Replacing the empty one in hopes of her not noticing the difference, but she did. She always noticed, but she never said anything.

Putting the bottle back in the cabinet, she heard him walk up behind her, his arms wrapping themselves around her waist as if out of instinct. His face snuggling into the crook of her neck, leaving little kisses on her skin.

“I missed you,” he mumbled against her skin. Tickling her with the stubble of his beard and making her giggle, the doubts flying away to the back of her mind like they always do. “How was brunch?”

“Good,” she answered, turning around in his arms and looking at his face. God, he was gorgeous. “I missed you too though.”

She could smell the alcohol lingering on his tongue and the endless excuses forming in his head. The unbearable truth catching up to her before she could let herself fall into him once more, ‘you’re gonna loose your mind if you keep going like this.’ The endless arguments catching up to her and coming back like they were love confessions. The pictures that kept her up at night, which he brushed off as isolated incidents that wouldn’t happen again. But they did. Everything he swore wouldn’t reoccur to them, happened over and over and over again.

Still, his lips tasted so sweet when they touched hers. His hands on her body still felt so comforting.

And in the end, he woke up next to her, right?

People could say what they wanted, about them and him, in the end they still ended the day together and they would until the end. She was sure of that.

“Sometimes, I’m afraid you’re just a dream I’ll wake up from,” she confessed, her hand brushing over his cheek, watching his face lean into her touch. Watching him take in her tenderness.

“I’m real,” he promised her, “and I’m only here for you.”

Butterflies erupted in her chest, her heart feeling like an exploding volcano. Filling her body with love and affection and tearing her doubts in two individual pieces before burning them completely, turning them into ashes. She’ll most likely look back on this in years time and see how stupid someone clever can be for love. An embarrassing thing it is; love. Something so simple hurting someone so much. Like a simple touch can break a vase. It was fragile and delicate, but with the right care, it can stay alive for centuries to come. And he was willing to provide her with the right care, when he was around.

“I had a talk with my mother and my sisters today over brunch,” she started telling him the thing pondering on her mind the whole drive home. “Lou, my friend from college - you remember her right?”

“The one with the glasses?” He asked back, making sure he knew who she was talking about.

“Yes, she married a few months ago and - as you know - I never really liked the guy.”

“Yeah, you never tried to make it unknown.” Lewis laughed at the memories of hours of her complaining and telling him all the shit he’d done.

Rolling her eyes in playful annoyance, she continued talking, “Anyway, Sarah was at her house a few days ago . I think, Monday or something - and the whole house was a chaos. Lou, she looked terrible and her husband he was sitting on the sofa, watching some shit TV-show while she did all the housework. It just - I hate men sometimes. They are terrible and she just lets him do it and says that he isn’t usually like this, but I can’t believe that.”

Her sister, Sarah, knew that feeling all too well, who didn’t? She knew what the situation in a relationship was when the house looked like that. She had been there, telling herself that he wasn’t usually like that. She told it everyone she passed on the street and who cared for her. Lying to everyone, including herself.

“You know I would never do stuff like that if that’s what you’re worried about, right?” He assured her, taking her face into his hands and looking at her with sincerity filling his eyes.

He was just as pathetic of a liar as she was.

“I know.”

It was the terrible faith of a woman falling for a boy.