#hull fair

[xielian-gets-his-own-blog-now]

Can't take a picture of the boys tonight because I am gaining whiplash from hull fair

[winterseve00]

Hull fair, hull, UK 2024

[prepare4trouble]

[addamvelaryon]

Fair at Spicetown

Artist: vats9_9

[mannekenpressprints]

Manneken Press at EXPO Chicago 2023

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[britishsportinglegends]

Eddie Gray.

[yesterdaysnewts]

a fair rake :/

[aceyalonso]

mirror, mirror on the wall - GEORGE RUSSELL

pairing : boyfriend!george russell x fem!reader kinktober day 10 - mirror sex

summary : ever since y/n and george started spending some weekends on the boat, she has always wondered why he needed to have a mirror on the wall and on the ceiling of the bedroom

warnings/notes : short smau at the end, swearing, smut, switch!reader & switch!george, established relationship, smut (with A LOT of plot), unprotected sex (always use a condom guys!), handjob, cum play (ish?), creampie, multiple orgasms, oral (m!receiving), slight body worship, praise kink, begging, use of "good boy/girl"

word count : 4.3k

a/n : i need this man SO BAD

main masterlist | kinktober masterlist

Y/n and George spent the day on his small yacht, the warm sun beating down on the deck as the gentle waves lapped against the hull. The salty sea breeze tousled Y/n's hair, and she could feel the sun's heat on her skin, making her feel alive and invigorated.

George stood at the helm, his tanned muscles glistening with sweat as he expertly navigated the yacht through the crystal-clear waters. His blue eyes sparkled with excitement as he glanced over at Y/n, who was lounging on a plush deck chair, a fruity cocktail in hand.

"Isn't this just perfect?" George asked, his deep voice carrying over the sound of the wind and the water. "Just you, me, and the open sea."

Y/n smiled, taking a sip of her drink before responding. "It's amazing, George. I can't think of a better way to spend a day off."

He grinned mischievously as he approached Y/n, his wet swim trunks clinging to his muscular thighs. He knelt beside her deck chair, his eyes roaming over her sun-kissed skin before settling on her face. "I think it's time we get a little closer," he said, his voice low and seductive.

Without warning, George lunged forward, pressing his dripping-wet body on top of Y/n. She let out a surprised squeal, her hands instinctively pushing against his chest. "George! You're soaking wet!" she exclaimed, laughing playfully. "I'm trying to get a tan here, and you're ruining it!"

George chuckled, his breath hot against her ear. "Oh, I'm sorry, did I interrupt your tanning session?" he teased, his lips brushing against her neck. "I just couldn't resist getting a little closer to you."

Y/n giggled, her fingers tangling in George's damp hair as they playfully wrestled on the deck. She managed to push him off her, but he quickly regained his balance, his eyes gleaming with determination. "Oh, you want to play, do you?" he growled, grabbing her wrists and pinning her arms above her head.

"Hey, no fair!" Y/n cried out, squirming beneath him. "Let me go!"

George smirked, his grip on her wrists tightening as he leaned in close. "I don't think so," he whispered, his lips hovering just inches from hers. "I think it's time we take this to the water."

With a sudden burst of strength, George released Y/n's wrists and grabbed her around the waist, lifting her off the deck chair. She let out a surprised yelp as he carried her to the edge of the yacht, the cool sea breeze whipping through her hair.

"George, wait!" she called out, her heart pounding in her chest. "What are you doing?"

He didn't hesitate, his strong arms wrapped tightly around Y/n as he leaped from the yacht into the crystal-clear waters below. They hit the water with a splash, and Y/n's scream quickly turned into laughter as the cool sea enveloped them.

As they surfaced, George kept a firm hold on Y/n, his hands gripping her waist as they tread water together. "There, isn't this better?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

Y/n splashed water at George, her eyes narrowing playfully as she asked, "Are you crazy? What if I couldn't swim?"

George grinned, his hands still firmly gripping her waist. "Oh, I'm sure you can swim just fine," he teased, his voice dripping with confidence. "But even if you couldn't, I've got you. I'll never let you go."

He pulled her closer, their bodies pressing together in the cool water. Y/n couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement as she looked into his eyes, the sun reflecting off the waves around them. "You're such a show-off," she said, her voice breathless. "But I guess I can't blame you for wanting to impress me."

They swam together, their bodies moving in sync as they cut through the water. Y/n marveled at the way George's muscles rippled beneath his skin, his powerful strokes propelling them both forward. She felt a sense of freedom and exhilaration, the saltwater invigorating her senses as they played in the waves.

As they swam, George suddenly stopped, turning to face Y/n with a mischievous grin. "Race you back to the yacht!" he challenged, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

Y/n laughed, her competitive spirit ignited. "You're on!" she exclaimed, pushing off from him and striking out for the boat.

They raced through the water, their laughter echoing across the surface as they splashed and kicked, determined to reach the yacht first. In the end, it was a photo finish, with both of them arriving at the ladder at the same time, breathless and grinning from ear to ear.

As they climbed back onto the yacht, George reached up and grabbed Y/n's hands, helping her onto the deck. Once they were both standing, he wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her effortlessly, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.

"I think you've had enough sun for today," George murmured, his lips brushing against her ear. "Let's get you out of this wet swimsuit and into something more comfortable."

Y/n shivered, her body responding to his touch as he carried her towards the cabin. "I don't know," she teased, her fingers playing with his damp hair. "I kind of like the way you look in those wet swim trunks."

George chuckled, his eyes darkening with desire as he kicked open the cabin door. "Oh, I'm sure you'll like what's underneath even more," he said, his voice low and seductive.

He carried Y/n into the small bathroom, setting her down gently on the edge of the bathtub. He turned on the faucet, letting the warm water fill the tub as steam began to rise, filling the room with a soothing, relaxing scent.

Once the tub was full, they both slipped into the water, sighing contentedly as the warmth enveloped their bodies. George pulled Y/n close, her back pressed against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her, his hands resting on her stomach.

They sat in comfortable silence, the only sounds being the gentle lapping of the water and their soft breathing. Y/n closed her eyes, relishing the feeling of George's skin against hers, his strong arms holding her securely.

"This is perfect," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the water. "Just you and me, no distractions, no worries."

George pressed a kiss to her shoulder, his lips lingering on her damp skin. "I couldn't agree more," he murmured, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her stomach. "I never want this moment to end."

Y/n's curiosity piqued as she thought about the mirrors in the master bedroom. "You know, I've always wondered why there are mirrors on the ceiling in the master bedroom," she mused, her head resting on George's shoulder. "And why only in that room, since there's already a mirror on the wall."

He chuckled, his fingers still tracing patterns on her stomach. "Ah, that's an interesting question," he said, his voice taking on a playful tone. "I guess the previous owner had some unique tastes when it came to decorating."

George's hands slowly moved up Y/n's body, his fingers dancing along her ribs before cupping her breasts. She let out a soft gasp, her nipples hardening under his touch. He leaned in, his lips finding hers in a passionate kiss, their tongues intertwining as they explored each other's mouths.

Y/n's hands roamed over George's chest, her fingers tracing the defined muscles before moving lower, teasing the waistband of his swim trunks. He groaned into the kiss, his hips pressing forward, seeking more of her touch.

She stood up from the bathtub, water cascading down her body as she reached for her bikini. She quickly removed the wet fabric, revealing her smooth, sun-kissed skin. George watched, his eyes darkening with desire as she slipped into his oversized shirt and a pair of short shorts that left little to the imagination.

"I really want to have sex," Y/n said, her voice low and sultry as she ran her hands through her damp hair. "But I need to cook first. I'm starving."

George groaned, his arousal evident as he watched her walk away, the shirt barely covering her assets. He knew he'd have to wait, but the anticipation only made him want her more.

In the kitchen, Y/n busied herself with preparing a meal, her movements graceful and sensual. George followed her, leaning against the counter as he watched her work. The sight of her in his clothes, the way the fabric clung to her curves, was driving him wild.

As Y/n cooked, George couldn't take his eyes off her. The way she moved, the way her hips swayed as she stirred the pot, was hypnotizing. He felt his desire growing, his body aching to touch her.

Y/n turned around, catching George's heated gaze. She smirked, knowing exactly the effect she was having on him. "You know," she said, her voice teasing, "I think I might have a little surprise for you later."

George's eyebrows raised, his interest piqued. "Oh, is that so?" he asked, his voice low and husky. "And what might that be?"

Y/n just smiled, turning back to the stove. "You'll see," she said, her tone playful and mysterious.

She set the food on the small table, the oversized shirt riding up as she bent over, revealing her barely covered ass. George couldn't help but stare, his mouth watering at the sight. He knew he had to control himself, but it was proving to be a challenge.

As they sat down to eat, George found it difficult to focus on the food. His eyes kept wandering to Y/n, taking in every curve and contour of her body. The way the shirt clung to her chest, the way her shorts hugged her hips, it was all too much for him to handle.

"You're staring," Y/n said, her voice playful as she caught him in the act. "Is there something stuck in my teeth?"

George shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "No, nothing like that," he replied, his eyes never leaving hers. "I just can't help but admire the view."

Y/n suddenly stood up and tied her hair into a messy bun. The action caused the shirt to ride up even further, revealing more of her toned stomach and the tantalizing curve of her hips.

George's eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat as he took in the sight before him. He could feel his heart racing, his body responding to the visual feast in front of him.

She sat back down, her eyes locked with George's. She could see the desire burning in his gaze, and it only fueled her own arousal. "Eat up," she said, her voice low and seductive. "You'll need your energy for later."

As they started eating, some of the sauce from Y/n's food began to drip onto her fingers. Without thinking, she brought her fingers to her mouth, licking the sauce off in a slow, deliberate motion. The action was unintentional, but the effect was undeniable.

George watched, transfixed, as her tongue darted out, swirling around her fingers. He could feel his desire growing, his body aching to touch her. The way she licked her fingers, the way her lips glistened with the sauce, it was all too much for him to handle.

"You know," he said, his voice low and husky, "I think I'm done eating."

Y/n looked at George, confusion evident on her face. "Didn't you like the food?" she asked, genuinely concerned.

George shook his head, his eyes never leaving hers. "No, the food was perfect," he said, his voice filled with longing. "It's just that... I need you."

His words were spoken with a submissive tone, a plea for her to understand his desires. Y/n's eyes widened, realization dawning on her. She could see the desperation in his gaze, the way his body trembled with want.

"Oh, I see," she said, her voice soft and understanding. "Well, I suppose we could finish this later."

With that, she stood up, her hand reaching out to take George's. She led him to the bedroom, her heart pounding with anticipation. As they entered the room, she turned to face him, her eyes filled with desire.

"Show me what you need," she whispered, her fingers trailing down his chest. "I'm here for you."

George guided Y/n's hand down to his crotch, his hardness evident through the fabric of his swim trunks. "I need you so badly," he breathed, his voice filled with longing. "Please, touch me."

Y/n's fingers brushed against his length, and she could feel him twitch beneath her touch. She could sense his desperation, his desire for her to take control. Slowly, she slipped her hand inside his trunks, her fingers wrapping around his hardness.

"Like this?" she asked, her voice low and seductive. She began to stroke him, her movements slow and deliberate, teasing him with her touch.

George groaned, his head falling back as he savored the sensation of her hand on his most intimate part. "Yes," he gasped, his hips bucking into her touch. "Just like that."

Y/n's eyes sparkled with mischief as she looked up at George, her hand still stroking his hardness. "You know," she said, her voice filled with excitement, "maybe we should put those mirrors on the ceiling to use."

She guided him towards the bed, pushing him down onto the mattress. "Lie back," she instructed, her tone commanding. "I want you to watch yourself as I please you."

George complied, his eyes locked on Y/n as she positioned herself between his legs. He could see his reflection in the mirror above, his chest heaving with anticipation.

"Look at yourself," Y/n said, her voice low and seductive. "Watch as I make you feel good."

Y/n's hand continued to stroke George's sensitive cock, her movements slow and deliberate. She could feel him throbbing beneath her touch, his body responding to her every caress. In the mirror above, she could see his reflection, his eyes dark with desire, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath.

She leaned down, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "Do you like watching yourself? Do you like seeing how much you want me?"

George nodded, his eyes never leaving the mirror. He could see every twitch, every shudder of his body as Y/n pleasured him. It was a sight he would never forget, the way she controlled him, the way she brought him to the brink of ecstasy.

"I'm going to make you feel so good," Y/n promised, her voice filled with desire. "Just relax and let me take care of you."

Y/n's hand continued to stroke George's cock, her movements growing faster and more intense. She could feel him getting closer to the edge, his body tensing beneath her touch.

"You're doing so well," she praised, her voice low and encouraging. "Such a good boy, letting me take control."

George's eyes remained fixed on the mirror, watching as his body responded to Y/n's ministrations. He could feel the pleasure building inside him, his hips bucking into her hand as she stroked him.

Y/n laughed as George continued to thrust into her hand, his body desperate for release. She leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his forehead, her lips lingering on his skin.

"You're so eager," she teased, her voice filled with affection. "I love how responsive you are to my touch."

George groaned, his eyes fluttering closed as he savored the sensation of her hand on his cock and her lips on his forehead. He could feel the pleasure building inside him, his body trembling with anticipation.

"I'm so close," he gasped, his voice strained with desire. "Please, don't stop."

Y/n's hand moved faster, her grip tightening around George's cock as she brought him closer to the edge. "I don't know," she said, her voice filled with mischief. "I kind of like seeing you like this, so desperate and needy."

George whimpered, his body shaking with the effort of holding back his orgasm. He could feel the pleasure coursing through him, his cock throbbing in Y/n's hand.

"Please," he begged, his voice barely above a whisper. "I need to cum."

Y/n smiled, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Alright," she said, her voice softening. "Cum for me, George. Let go."

George's body tensed, his muscles clenching as he felt the wave of pleasure wash over him. With a low moan, he came, his seed spilling over his stomach and abdomen. Y/n watched, her hand still stroking him through his orgasm, prolonging his ecstasy.

As the last spurts of his release subsided, George collapsed back onto the bed, his chest heaving with exertion. Y/n released his cock, her hand moving to caress his thigh, her touch gentle and soothing.

Y/n began kissing George's abdomen, her tongue lapping up the remnants of his release. She could taste the saltiness of his skin, the musky scent of his arousal filling her senses. As she cleaned him up, she felt his hand run through her hair, his fingers tangling in the strands.

"You look gorgeous like that," George murmured, his voice filled with admiration. "I want you to be a good girl and suck my cock, okay?"

Y/n's eyes widened at George's command, a thrill of excitement running through her. She loved it when he took control, when he demanded her submission. Without hesitation, she positioned herself between his legs, her hands gripping his thighs as she took his cock into her mouth.

George groaned, his fingers tightening in her hair as she began to suck him. He could feel her tongue swirling around his shaft, her lips sealing tightly around him as she worked her way down.

"That's it," he encouraged, his voice deep and authoritative. "Take it all, just like that."

Y/n obeyed, relaxing her throat as she took him deeper, her nose brushing against his lower abdomen. She could feel him throbbing in her mouth, his cock growing harder with each passing second.

George's grip on Y/n's hair tightened, his hips thrusting upwards as she continued to suck him. He could feel the pleasure building inside him, his body responding to her actions.

"Fuck, that feels amazing," he groaned, his voice strained with desire. "You're such a good girl, taking my cock so well."

Y/n moaned around him, the vibrations sending shivers of pleasure through his body. She loved the way he talked to her, the way he praised her for her efforts. It only fueled her desire to please him, to bring him to the brink of ecstasy.

As she bobbed her head up and down, her tongue swirling around his shaft, George could feel his orgasm approaching. His body tensed, his muscles clenching as he fought to hold back his release.

"I'm going to cum," he warned, his voice barely above a whisper. "Swallow it all, just like a good girl."

George pulled Y/n up, his hands gripping her hips as he positioned her in front of the mirror on the wall. He sat upright, his back against the pillows, as he spread her legs, slowly pushing her shorts off her legs. Her back was pressed against his chest, and he could feel her body trembling with anticipation.

"You did so well," he praised, his voice low and husky. "I'm so proud of you for taking my cock like that."

Y/n blushed, her eyes meeting his in the mirror. She could see the desire burning in his gaze, the way his hands roamed over her body as he admired her reflection.

George's hands trailed down Y/n's body, his fingers ghosting over her clit, teasing her with light, feather-like touches. She gasped, her hips bucking slightly as she sought more of his touch.

"You're so responsive," he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear. "I love how your body reacts to my touch."

Y/n's eyes fluttered closed, her head falling back against his shoulder as she savored the sensation of his fingers on her most sensitive area. She could feel the heat building inside her, her body aching for more.

"Please," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I need more."

George's hands trailed down Y/n's body, his fingers ghosting over her clit, teasing her with light, feather-like touches. She gasped, her hips bucking slightly as she sought more of his touch.

"You're so responsive," he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear. "I love how your body reacts to my touch."

Y/n's eyes fluttered closed, her head falling back against his shoulder as she savored the sensation of his fingers on her most sensitive area. She could feel the heat building inside her, her body aching for more.

"Please," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I need more."

He placed a soft kiss on Y/n's shoulder, his fingers slowly dipping into her wet heat. She moaned, her body arching into his touch as he began to move his fingers in and out, his thumb circling her clit.

"You're so tight," he groaned, his voice filled with desire. "I can feel you squeezing my fingers. Relax, baby."

Y/n's breath hitched, her hips moving in rhythm with his fingers. She could feel the pleasure building inside her, her body trembling with anticipation.

"I'm going to make you cum," George promised, his voice low and seductive. "And you're going to watch yourself in the mirror as it happens."

George continued to finger Y/n, his movements growing faster and more intense. Just as she was about to reach her peak, he abruptly stopped, his fingers slipping out of her heat.

"I want you to cum on my cock," he said, his voice filled with desire. "Not on my fingers."

Y/n whimpered, her body aching for release. She could feel the frustration building inside her, her hips bucking against his hand as she sought more of his touch.

"Please," she begged, her voice strained with need. "I need you inside me."

George positioned himself behind Y/n, his cock pressing against her entrance. He could feel her heat, the way her body craved his touch. With a slow, deliberate movement, he pushed into her, his cock stretching her walls as he filled her completely.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned, his voice filled with pleasure. "You feel so good."

Y/n moaned, her head falling back against his shoulder as she savored the sensation of his cock inside her. She could feel every inch of him, the way he throbbed within her depths.

"Move," she pleaded, her voice desperate. "Please, I need you to move."

George complied, his hips beginning to thrust in a steady rhythm. He watched as Y/n's reflection in the mirror mirrored his movements, her body arching and undulating with each stroke of his cock.

"Look at yourself," George commanded, his voice low and husky. "So gorgeous, taking my cock like this."

Y/n's eyes met his in the mirror, her gaze filled with desire and lust. She could see the way her body moved, the way her skin glistened with sweat as George thrust into her. It was a sight she would never forget, the way he controlled her.

"I'm so close," she gasped, her body trembling with anticipation. "Don't stop, please."

George's hand moved to Y/n's chin, gently guiding her gaze back to their reflection in the mirror. He wanted her to see herself, to witness the raw passion and desire that radiated from her body as he pleasured her.

"Watch," he insisted, his voice firm yet tender. "Watch as I make you cum."

Y/n's moans grew louder, her body arching into his touch as he continued to thrust into her. She could feel the pleasure building inside her, her body tensing as she neared her climax.

"I'm going to cum," she warned, her voice strained with need. "Don't stop, please."

George's grip on her hips tightened, his thrusts becoming more forceful and intense. He could feel her walls tightening around him, her body trembling with the impending release.

His body tensed, his muscles clenching as he felt his orgasm approaching. With a low groan, he came inside Y/n, his seed filling her as he continued to thrust into her.

"Fuck, you're so amazing," he groaned, his voice muffled against her shoulder. "You take my cock so well, so perfectly."

Y/n's body convulsed, her own orgasm hitting her with a force that left her breathless. She could feel George's warmth inside her, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself into her depths.

As their climaxes subsided, George wrapped his arms around Y/n, holding her close as they both caught their breath. He pressed soft kisses to her neck and shoulder, his hands roaming over her body in a gentle, soothing manner.

"That was incredible," he murmured, his voice filled with awe and admiration. "I love you so much."

George pulled Y/n close, his lips brushing against her temple as he whispered, "Do you want to go again?"

She shook her head, a soft smile playing on her lips. "I'm too tired," she admitted, her voice filled with contentment. "But that was amazing."

George chuckled, his hands continuing to roam over her body as he peppered her with kisses. He kissed her temple, her shoulder, her jawline, and every other inch of skin he could reach.

"Okay, my love," he said, his voice low and tender. "Let's rest for a while. I've got you."

y/n.l/n

liked by george_russell, francisca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux and 10,824 others y/n.l/n sunny skies and butterflies ☀️ tagged george_russell

alexandrasaintmleux so this is why you said no to saturday brunch? :( ↳ y/n.l/n i'm sorry babes, he took me hostage 😔😔😔 ↳ george_russell I DID NOT???

george_russell Who is that gorgeous man on the last slide? 🤔 ↳ y/n.l/n idk but i'd let him hit ↳ george_russell You already did

francisca.cgomes can you fight?? george_russell ↳ george_russell Yes. Now leave me and MY girlfriend alone ↳ francisca.cgomes last time i recall her ignoring YOU so she could go to ME. ↳ y/n.l/n ladies, ladies, calm down there's enough of me to go around ↳ george_russell Absolutely not. I'm not letting this woman take you away from me.

taglist

for all posts; @nepobbylver @wobblymug @xoscar03 @irishmanwhore @nitiii

kinktober taglist; @cloud-55 @emryb @sie17136 @jaimeleannavanlloman @wosof1 @wholetmewritethat @glitterbitch1 @under-seasoned-pasta @sinners-98-world @lewishamiltonismybf

[rennalaqotfm]

𖤓 DRAGONSPEAR | J.V (PART III)

Pairing: Prince Jacaerys Velaryon x Martell Princess! Reader

Synopsys: Upon discovering Aemond Targaryen's alliance with the Triarchy, the Blacks are pushed to the point of desperation. With the war looming over the horizon, they have no choice but to turn to an unlikely ally: House Martell.

Content Warning: Violence, blood and injury, mentions of death, alcohol consumption, angst, and a lot of 'fucking politicking,' as King Viserys said, (not proofread).

Dialogue in italics is High Valyrian.

WC: 5.4k

Series Masterlist

(A/N and taglist at the end of the chapter)

Prince Jacaerys Velaryon had always prided himself on being a capable fighter. Although Jacaerys' strength primarily lay in politics, he never let his swordsmanship fall behind. In fact, Ser Harwin Strong, the captain of the City Watch, and as many whispered, his real father,  had taught him everything about the art of yielding a sword. From the correct way of unsheathing the blade to keeping his knees slightly bent so he wouldn't stagger as easily. He still recalled how at the tender age of six, Ser Harwin kneeled to his level as he placed his heavy arm on his shoulder.

'A sword is but a tool. Its true power lies within the one who yields it. Visualise your desired outcome, and your blade will follow.'

Ser Criston Cole, however, had no patience for his idealised notions of battle. While Ser Harwin had taught Jacaerys the foundations of swordsmanship, it was Ser Criston who introduced him to the unforgiving truth of a real battle, proving that sparring with a straw dummy wasn't useful beyond the training grounds.

'When steel is drawn, a fair fight isn't something anyone should expect.'

He still bitterly remembered how Ser Criston had him spar against his uncle Aegon. Anyone who watched that scene would've thought it wasn't a fair battle. Aegon was already four-and-ten, much taller and stronger than he was. Jacaerys still remembered how Aegon's strikes had come faster and harder than anything he had faced before, especially the kick to his stomach that sent him flying to the ground with a thud, and yet, Aegon didn't cease delivering blow after blow with brute force.

'Is this what you teach, Cole? Cruelty to the weaker opponent?' 

The sting of defeat, the bruises that lingered for days, and the humiliation of being bested in front of others, particularly his grandsire Viserys, were all part of Ser Criston's lesson. And in that moment, Jacaerys came to realise that cruelty might be something he didn't possess.

Now there was no excuse. It wasn't going to be an unfair battle since Prince Elyas Martell was but a year older than him, and couldn't have trained any differently. However, Jacaerys had never killed a man with his own hands. Yes, he had led men into battle, but taking someone's life with his sword was something he had yet to experience. There was no doubt that killing was nothing more than just a mundane task for Elyas. Those Dornishmen seemed to take pleasure in the most outlandish ways, which made him question how strong of a warrior Prince Elyas was to defeat such great lords.

Then he recalled the story Addam of Hull had told them in Dragonstone, how the reason why Princess Y/n remained unwed was because his suitors had met the common fate of death. As much as he didn't want to believe those rumours, he had bitterly grown to accept that all those tales about the Dornishmen were nothing but true. 

The young prince frowned as he took in the arid, unforgiving weather. It would've been foolish to wear his full armour for the trial; the extreme heat would likely cause him to collapse before he even reached the arena. He sported nothing more than a Targaryen breastplate on top of a linen tunic, and his breeches. He considered sporting his gauntlets, but the sweat of his hands would affect the grip on his sword. Even with just the breastplate, he already felt how beads of sweat rolled down his back.

Jacaerys had been so fixated on winning the trial that he barely had any time to process his betrothal with Princess Y/n. He wondered if all of her suitors even wished for power, or mayhaps they were simply entranced by her beauty. Despite her attitude,  there was something enticing about the Princess he couldn't bring himself to deny. But what was he going to do if behind that beauty lay nothing but different ideals and hostility? What would the rest of the houses think upon finding out about their alliance with House Martell? How would the two of them rule the whole realm if the Princess put Dorne's interests before the rest of Westeros? 

Not to mention, even if he emerged victorious from the trial, he doubted Princess Y/n would be too pleased if her brother's life was the price. The thought gnawed at him as he fastened his boots. But what if he were the one to fall? He couldn't even begin to imagine the devastation it would bring to his mother, and the mere thought of her grief twisted his stomach. Daemon had offered to fight in his place, a suggestion his mother had eagerly supported. Yet, Jacaerys had refused, knowing that the Princess would never consider his proposal if he didn't prove his own worth in the arena. To win her hand without facing the trial himself would be dishonourable.

No matter what he did, all odds were against him.

"It's time," one of the guards spoke behind the door.

One guard led the way, as the other trailed behind him, with his spear in hand, ready to attack if the Prince even attempted to do anything. They walked through the labyrinthine halls of the Old Palace, adorned with pillars and chandeliers, lighting up the place as the blinding rays of sunshine met with the golden decorations.

They stepped into the flourishing gardens leading to the arena, where Rhaenyra and Daemon awaited his arrival. He could hear his mother's voice as they spoke in High Valyrian, unaware of his presence.

"I have lost too many children, Daemon. The thought of losing Jace—" Rhaenyra's voice faltered, her lip quivering as she fought to swallow the rising lump in her throat. 

"Elyas would be a fool to slay the Crown Prince," Daemon mumbled. 

"You, above all, should know what these people are capable of."

"But killing the future king of the realm is a line they would not dare cross."

"And yet, must the price we pay for this war be our children?" Rhaenyra's voice broke. 

"I was not aware how my death would be such an interesting thing to discuss," Jacaerys muttered bitterly.

"Jace," Rhaenyra turned to face her son, cupping his cheek. "For the last time, you do not have to do this—"

Jacaerys swatted his mother's hand off, his eyes full of contempt. 

"You have no right to act concerned, Mother. You pushed forward with this, knowing the risks, knowing that I might pay with my life. Whatever fate awaits me in this trial... if I die, my blood is in your hands. But at least I will have done my duty."

Before Rhaenyra could say anything else to her son, the guards urged him to move forward.

With a heavy heart, Jacaerys turned to face her mother one last time, but she was nowhere to be seen as they most likely had been taken to the gallery. Before the guards pushed the double doors they exchanged a look of pity, clearing a path for him. That didn't go unnoticed by the Prince, and it only added to the river of negative emotions he had been drowning in since they arrived.

As Jacaerys stepped through the double doors, the world around him was suddenly swallowed by darkness, with only a narrow beam of light from the distant end of the tunnel. The corridor stretched before him, its walls echoing with the muffled sounds of the world above. He could hear the creak of wooden beams straining under the weight of footsteps, making him wonder how many eyes might be waiting for him outside. The air was cool and heavy, carrying with it the scent of the arena's sands, yet the usual roar of a crowd was eerily absent.

Jacaerys took a deep breath before stepping into the arena. The sun was almost blinding, leaving him momentarily disoriented. Feeling like a caged animal, he scanned his surroundings, shielding his eyes with his hand. To his surprise, there weren't many spectators; he could only make out the members of the Martell council. Then, his eyes quickly found his mother, whose face was etched with deep concern and regret. Nearby, Daemon, unable to sit still, attempted to calm his nerves with a cup of wine. Not very far from where the council sat, there were three empty seats in the royal box, where Prince Qoren took his seat, with Farien on his lap. Jacaerys grew confused as he saw Prince Elyas take a seat next to his father, leaving one empty. Was he not going to fight for his sister? Mayhaps the Princess' champion was her sworn protector. 

A few moments had passed, yet the Princess was nowhere to be seen. Jacaerys' mind raced with doubts. Was she not going to attend the trial she herself had proposed? 

Suddenly, the double doors opposite him began to open and the Martells began to cheer. Prince Qoren wrapped his arm around Farien, who couldn't stop clapping as he bounced on his father's lap. Elyas signalled one of the servants to bring him a cup of wine, as he leaned back on his seat and looked at Jacaerys with a sneer. 

His eyes widened in shock as the figure emerging from the other side of the arena wasn't one of the twins either. 

It was Princess Y/n herself.

The Princess strode toward the centre of the arena, the sun-kissed amber fabric of her dress flowing like a whisper with each step. The high slits on either side of the skirt fluttered and snapped, revealing glimpses of her legs as she moved. With a fluid motion, Princess Y/n unsheathed the two golden daggers holstered on her thighs, playfully twirling them around her fingers.

"Princess Y/n Martell, the Dancing Serpent of Dorne, and Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, the Crown Prince. Let the trial commence," Ser Domeric Uller announced, earning another wave of applause from the Martells. 

Dancing Serpent of Dorne?

Jacaerys took an instinctive step back, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. Two guards blocked the door with their spears, leaving no chance of escape. In the glaring sunlight, Princess Y/n appeared like an oasis amid the dunes, her bronze skin glowing with an ethereal radiance, akin to that of a deity. She moved with the lethal agility of a serpent, her eyes locked onto him, calculating, and ready to strike. A storm of doubts began to cloud Jacaerys. What was he supposed to do? Kill her? Maim her? 

He suddenly heard Ser Criston Cole's voice echoing in the back of his mind.

'Blades up. Engage.'

As if guided by pure instinct, the Prince unsheathed his sword, the sharp silver catching and reflecting a ray of sunlight. He quickly assumed a defensive stance, his eyes fixed onto the Princess. If he kept his distance, he should have the advantage over her. He lunged, aiming not for a lethal blow, but to knock the Princess off her feet, hard enough to force her to yield. 

He was not there to shed blood. 

The Princess easily dodged his attack as his blade slashed the air, and he quickly withdrew to his defensive stance. They began circling each other, eyes locked, neither daring to look away.

A bead of sweat trickled down Jacaerys' temple, his heart pounding as he watched Y/n assume a low, unfamiliar stance. She held both of her daggers up, poised like a serpent's fangs as she moved with languid grace, inching closer to him, almost hypnotically.

Before he could fully register the movement, a sharp pain sliced through his arm. Jacaerys hissed as Y/n's blade carved a deep gash, warm blood seeping through his white tunic and dripping onto the sand. He clenched his jaw, forcing the searing pain to the back of his mind, determined to ignore the Martells' cheers echoing around the arena. At least the arm wielding his sword was still intact.

The dance between the dragon and the serpent continued. Y/n darted forward, her twin daggers a blur as she unleashed a relentless flurry of slashes. Jacaerys struggled to block, each clash of steel sending vibrations up his injured arm. As she pressed her assault, he caught a glimpse of something feral in her eyes, a familiar look he knew all too well: bloodlust.

Growing weary of her relentless attacks, he sidestepped one of her strikes and delivered a swift, powerful kick to her side. The sheer force sent the Princess onto the sand with a grunt, one of her daggers slipping from her grasp.

Seizing the moment, Jacaerys lifted his blade to force her to surrender. But before he could strike, the Princess rolled to the side and kicked his shin, sending him stumbling backwards. In a heartbeat, Y/n was on him, knocking the sword from his grasp. She straddled him, raising her dagger high, ready to plunge it into his throat. Jacaerys reacted just in time, catching her wrist in a bone-crushing grip. Y/n cried out, the pain weakening her hold, and Jacaerys seized the opportunity. With a desperate reach, he grabbed the dagger she had previously dropped, which was just at arm's reach, and drove it straight into her side. 

"Sister!" Elyas stood from his seat, ready to drive a spear into Jacaerys' heart. 

The Princess wailed in agony, her body retracting as she recoiled from the blow. Jacaerys quickly rolled free and scrambled to his feet, retrieving his sword and pointing it at her, his chest heaving as he tried to keep her pinned under the threat of his blade.

"Princess, please, I do not wish to hurt you—"

Jacaerys' eyes widened in horror as he watched Y/n yank the dagger from her side with a wicked grin. Without hesitation, she drove it into his calf. He groaned in pain, nearly collapsing, and used his sword to regain balance, the blade trembling under his weight.

Princess Y/n stood up from the ground, twirling the dagger as she watched the Prince struggle to get back to a defensive stance. Blood trickled down her side, soaking into her dress and staining the sand beneath her a deep crimson colour.

Jacaerys clenched his jaw in humiliation, feeling how pathetic he must have appeared to his mother, Daemon, the Martells, and most of all, to Y/n herself. 

Before he could fully recover, Y/n moved like a shadow, slipping behind him. He grunted as she wrapped her arm around his neck, pulling him close. The cold edge of her dagger was pressed firmly against his throat, and he dared not move.

He caught a glimpse of his mother, restrained by Daemon and the guards, her blood-curdling screams piercing through the air. It was the last sound he wanted to hear in his final moments. Jacaerys squeezed his eyes shut, trying to drown out the chaos and focus on memories that brought him comfort: the waves crashing against the cliffs of Dragonstone, the rhythmic beat of Vermax's wings cutting through the clouds, and Lucerys' carefree laughter.

As he opened his eyes and looked up at the sky, he smiled bitterly. The absurdity of it all nearly made him laugh. From the moment he had stepped into the arena, he knew he was doomed to fail. Yet, some foolish part of him had clung to the hope that he could make the Princess surrender. 

He felt the Princess' laboured breaths in his ear, sending a chill down his spine. He waited, and waited, and waited for the dagger to slash his neck, but the excruciating pain he had anticipated never came. 

Instead, a simple command reached his ears. One that, under any other circumstances, he would have defied without a second thought. But at that moment, his life was in the hands of Princess Y/n, and he dared not disobey her.

"Kneel before me," she whispered, making his blood run cold.

Jacaerys felt the Princess's grip loosen, allowing him to stumble forward. He turned back to face her, dropping to one knee, his gaze locked on hers. But in her eyes, he found no trace of mercy, nor cruelty. The bloodlust had drained away, replaced by a storm of emotions she herself couldn't fully comprehend.

That was the first time he had looked closely at the Princess. Her chest rose and fell rhythmically, beads of sweat rolling down her temple as a few droplets of his own blood stained her face. There was something undeniably bewitching about her, a pull he couldn't fathom. As he gazed up at the woman before him, a creeping sense of fear began to coil in his chest as he came to realise the power she wielded over him. She was the kind of woman who could either plunge the Seven Kingdoms into chaos or unite them under her command.

"I choose Prince Jacaerys Velaryon as my betrothed," she declared, her voice echoing through the arena as her eyes locked onto Rhaenyra. "House Martell will stand with Queen Rhaenyra in the Targaryen Civil War. In return, we demand control of the Stepstones, the unwavering protection and loyalty of House Targaryen whenever called upon, and the unchallenged independence of Dorne once the war is won. And most importantly," she looked at her father, giving him a firm nod, "I expect an official acknowledgement of Dorne's sovereignty. Let this moment be written in history, for the generations to come."

The dining hall of the Old Palace was in full swing. Delicacies were served in abundance, and the servants scurried about, refilling cups left and right. The Princess was deep into her fifth cup, trying to numb the burning pain of her wound, which had been sewn and bandaged by Maester Kyce, and although her wrist was badly bruised, it wasn't dislocated.

Her gaze shifted to the erotic performance happening before them as they ate. A pair of men and women explored their bodies, trying the most peculiar positions that she never thought were possible. She could only chuckle, the wine painting the scene as the most amusing thing she had ever witnessed. She finished what she had left in her cup, before ushering the servant for more. 

It was the only thing that could help her escape the suffocating atmosphere at the round table. Her father wasn't particularly pleased to be sharing the table with the Targaryens, and the feeling was mutual with the Martells. She couldn't bring herself to look at Elyas, whose eyes burned with the desire to start a war. Rhaenyra appeared torn between wanting to have her publicly executed for hurting her son and embracing her for sparing his life—yet even then, Y/n wasn't sure if what she had done was truly an act of mercy. Daemon leaned back, indulging in the finest Dornish wines, smirking as he silently celebrated the small victory of his successful plan. The only person who could have made the ordeal more bearable was Farien, but he was already fast asleep in his chambers. 

Then there was Jacaerys. He sat stiffly, trying to focus on anything but her. Yet, there was something about her presence that commanded his attention, and his eyes betrayed him, drifting toward her against his will. Mayhaps her eyes lingered on him longer than she had realised, as their gazes suddenly met. He looked away, as though her eyes just scarred his soul.

"Well, isn't that pathetic..." she muttered under her breath.

That was the man who was to be her future betrothed, a prince who couldn't even meet her gaze without flinching. The thought of marrying someone like him left a sour taste in her mouth.

"Have you got something to say, Princess?" Jacaerys suddenly spat.

"Oh, I most certainly do," Y/n retorted, her lips curling in a mocking grin as she tried her best not to slur her words. Casymir helped her stand up. She took her cup and slowly raised it. "I wish to propose a toast," she began, trailing her eyes at Daemon and Rhaenyra before resting her gaze on Jacaerys. "After all, it's not every day that we witness such a... historic moment. The mighty Dragon, so fierce and proud, finally finds its place... on the ground, with one bent knee before the Serpent. To the ever-lasting and prosperous alliance of House Martell and House Targaryen." 

The room fell into an uneasy silence. Prince Qoren hummed in approval, raising his cup with a satisfied smile, while Rhaenyra and Daemon's expressions tightened in shock and disbelief at the blatant disrespect. Daemon's eyes narrowed dangerously, lingering on the knife beside the roast piglet, his fingers inching towards it. But before he could act, Rhaenyra's sharp glare stopped him. Jacaerys, however, had enough of her insolent attitude.

"I wish to propose a toast as well," Jacaerys stood up, wincing at the pain in his leg. "I wish to thank House Martell for their... overwhelming hospitality in receiving the Crown," he paused, taking his time to look at the Martells and each guard. "Not only have we been looked after with the utmost care, every single moment accompanied by the comforting presence of a spear at our backs, but you have also shown us that the great tales they speak of the Dornishmen are nothing but the truth. Fighting against the Princess herself has truly been an honour, and I am forever grateful for the mercy she has shown me. Mayhaps the Princess has a soft spot after all." 

"Oh, my Prince," her eyes narrowed, knowing all too well that the mercy Jacaerys had referred to was cowardice. "I would love to have another duel, but I'd much prefer you alive for our wedding."

Jacaerys' face twisted with fury, his anger momentarily blinding him. In a swift motion, he drew his sword. Y/n didn't flinch. Instead, she unsheathed her dagger instinctively, pointing it directly at his forehead.

"We should take this to the arena if the Prince dares, that is," Princess Y/n smirked. "Well?" She taunted, looking down on him.

Jacaerys' nostrils flared with rage, knuckles turning white as he tightly held the grip of his sword. His mother's comforting touch slowly calmed his inner storm, and with a sour look on his face, he put his sword away. 

"That's what I thought," she muttered loud enough as she sat back down.

"Aren't they lovely, both of them? Already bickering like an old, married couple," Prince Qoren laughed. "Speaking of, they should marry as soon as possible. The wedding of my beloved daughter should be an event to remember," he turned to the Targaryens. "What do you want, Y/n, dear? We should get a pair of fine Braavosi tigers and make the prisoners fight them in the arena—"

"We are at war, Prince Qoren, we have no time for celebrations," Daemon interrupted him.

"It is only a matter of weeks before Ser Tyland reaches the Free Cities if the winds are in their favour," Rhaenyra echoed Lady Mysaria's words, not able to hide her concern. "Rest assured, once the war has been won, the celebrations will be held in the Red Keep."

"But who can assure me the Prince will not die during this war?" Prince Qoren asked, shrugging his shoulders. "When do you suppose we have the wedding? Once the Prince is dead?"

The Queen's face hardened, her eyes narrowing at him.

"I could have your tongue for that, Prince Qoren," she said coldly. 

"I'm glad the formalities are off the table," he muttered bitterly. "Your war can wait. My daughter is of sun and sand and will be married here, in our lands, with our people."

Rhaenyra could barely contain her anger, too tired of hearing the Martells' unreasonable demands. The idea of postponing the war for a wedding felt like a mockery, a distraction from the battle that could determine the fate of her house.

Y/n fought the urge to roll her eyes, too exhausted by the entire ordeal, the weight of her choices, and the tangled mess she now found herself in. With a deep sigh, she drained her cup, forcing herself to adopt a more civil tone.

"As much as I'm enjoying everybody's lovely company, I'm not faring well with my wound. I shall go back to my chambers to rest," the Princess excused herself as Casymir helped her stand up, wrapping his arm around her for support. 

By now, the once lavish feast had lost its appeal. The delicacies had grown cold, and the appetite of those present had long since vanished.

"I'll see to it that my sister returns to her chambers safely," Elyas excused himself, rising from his seat and trailing after the Princess.

"Elyas isn't happy about your decision," Casymir said softly as he cradled the Princess in his arms. 

Casymir chose to take the long path through the gardens back to her chambers, where the light of the full moon bathed everything in a silvery glow, and the warm evening breeze carried the scent of blooming magnolias. The flickering torches along the way cast dancing shadows, soothing the Princess' spirits.

"I figured as much," she scoffed. "He'll come to understand in due time."

"I'm afraid he won't, Princess," Casymir teased, making her laugh. 

"Not even if I explain?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"He'd understand even less," Casymir replied with a grin, his words drawing another burst of laughter from her.

At that moment, it was clear that Casymir was the only one who could truly reach her heart. She looked up at her half-brother, noting the familiar wild curls and thick brows they shared. Yet, unlike the brown eyes she and her other brothers had, his were a deep shade of blue, like the glittering Dornish waters on a sunny day.

"You should've been a jester instead, Cas," she murmured, her voice growing softer as the effects of the wine finally began to lull her into sleep. She nestled closer to his chest, allowing herself to relax completely in his arms.

"I'd rather be your shadow, Princess," his eyes softened, watching her doze off.

By the time they had arrived at her chambers, Y/n was already snoring lightly. Casymir raised his brow upon seeing his twin waiting outside.

"Leoran?" Casymir asked. "What are you doing here? Where's Elyas?"

"Inside. I'd hurry if I were you," Leoran said, opening the door for them.

Casymir stepped inside, only to find Elyas sitting on one of the seats. By the look on his face and the empty cup on the table, it seemed that he had been waiting for a while.

"What took you both so long?" He asked, looking at his half-brother in disdain.

"We were in the gardens, Y/n wanted to—"

"Leave us," he commanded.

"Very well," Casymir lowered his gaze and nodded. 

He laid the Princess on her bed carefully, brushing a strand of hair off her face, but she already seemed to have been awoken by Elyas' voice. Y/n sat up, rubbing her eyes, only to be greeted by a pounding headache and a sharp pain on her side. Once she spotted her brother with his arms crossed, sitting down across from her, she groaned. 

"Well?" He asked, expectantly.

"Not now, Elyas," she sighed. 

"Then when?" He stood up and kicked the chair aside. "When? When were you going to tell me what you and Father were planning?"

Y/n rolled her eyes, feeling her headache worsen as Elyas' voice boomed in her ears.

"Planning?" She scoffed. "Father didn't have a say in my decision. He gave me two choices, and I merely chose the one that wouldn't lead to bloodshed."

"Oh, really? What were these two grand choices?" He pressed.

"Side with the Blacks and keep our independence, or refuse, and face the Triarchy and the Greens once this war is over," she paused, gathering all of the patience she had left to keep going. "Do you understand what that would mean, Elyas? It means another war, right on our doorstep. For us. For Dorne. For our people. And tell me, what should I have chosen? More bloodshed? More meaningless deaths? You think that's what Father would've wanted?"

"If you had told me, then I could've helped you decide!" Elyas' voice cracked with frustration, his fists clenching at his sides.

"Help me decide?" She retorted. "And by that, do you mean killing the Velaryon boy?"

"Why not?" Elyas shot back. "You had the chance! You could've slit his throat and ended it all, yet you chose to spare that bastard's life."

"And what would that have accomplished?" She shouted. "Had I killed him, you'd be nothing but a pile of ashes right now. Rhaenyra would've burned us all to the ground before I could even take his head."

"She wouldn't have dared!" Elyas shouted back, his face inches from hers, as though she was the most foolish person to live. "The last thing she needs is another war on her hands, especially against us. Her own house is already tearing itself apart!"

"Very well. If you're so smart, what would you have done?" She scoffed, crossing her arms.

"Face the Triarchy and the Greens. We were victors in the First Dornish War, Y/n. We fought then, and we could fight again. We could win."

"You? Fight?" She sneered. "Tell me, when their dragons' flames rain upon our cities, our people, what would you do? Hide behind the walls of our palace? The same walls that would be turned into ashes? Listen to me. We are not made for wars like this, Elyas. We're not prepared to face something as devastating as another Dornish war."

"And that's why we have those people fighting for us!" Elyas retorted, pointing furiously out the window.

"Those people?" she asked in disbelief. "It should be us fighting for them under those circumstances! Do you not care about the lives beyond the confines of this palace?" She turned away, already feeling her tears pooling in her eyes. "No wonder Father doesn't trust you." 

"You both have no clue what you're doing. You're putting our house to shame by trusting the enemy," without warning, he grabbed her injured wrist, yanking her close. She gasped, a sharp pain shooting up her arm, but he didn't relent. "Tell me, sister," he hissed, his face inches from hers. "When this war is over, how will you know they'll keep their word? All those demands you made... you sounded so righteous, so powerful like you had the Targaryens wrapped around your finger. But you know exactly what they think of us. To them, we're nothing but foolish, power-hungry savages," he tightened his grip slightly, causing her to wince again. "And do you know what you've done, dear sister? You just proved them right."

"I'll have your whole arm if you dare lay your hands on me again," she tried to pry her wrist off of him, her voice quivering as her composure began to waver. "You're starting to forget your place, Elyas."

"And you're starting to forget what it truly means to be a Martell," he tightened his grip even more, watching as the Princess sucked a breath in through her teeth. 

Elyas let go of her with a push, making the Princess stumble back on her bed. Y/n massaged her wrist with her other hand as she buried her face in her bed, heaving, and squeezing her eyes shut. She flinched upon hearing Elyas' heavy footsteps leave, the door slamming once he left her chambers.

The Princess slowly got up to pick up the jug of wine lying on the table. Upon finding out it was empty, she flung the jug across the room with a frustrated yell. Her strength gave out, and she collapsed to the ground, burying her face in her hands. Tears streamed down her cheeks as her sobs filled her chambers. The soft knocks on her door went unanswered; she knew it was Casymir, the one person who could bring her comfort, yet she couldn't bear to let him see her that way. 

Her father's words echoed in her mind. She was destined to be the Princess of Dorne, a role she had fully embraced for as long as she could remember. Yet there she was, crumbling under the pressure, feeling as though every decision she made was beyond her control, burying her deeper into a grave she herself had dug.

A/N: Hello my lovelies! Thank you for being so patient with me. This chapter was a lot longer than I had expected, but here it is. Let's just take a moment and give our Princess Y/n a big hug, she needs it. I don't know why, but i'm having waaay too much fun making these extremely dramatic dialogues. and I live for their drama, tbh.

I also mentioned this before, but I'm having trouble tagging everyone. Some @'s would tag, but for some reason, some of the usernames just appear like normal text. I've double-checked every username and typed them over and over, but i still can't tag you all. Would be great if you guys could tell me how to fix this!

Taglist: @happinessinthebeing @deltamoon666 @dark1paradise @elz-zalarrr @v0dka4a @yohanseyebrowmole @dracaryxzs @ladyofvelaryon @burningwitchobject @lovelyteenagebeard @radtragedyarcade @dragonrider-3000 @labellapeaky @wintersoldier-101 @hummusxx @vastseamind @miksxz @cornbreadwithcheese @boiolay @op-oppai-blog @hajmola-vs-aamchaska @nichmeddar @ilovemingandming @Mgurl @marr3adsyou @lotus-888 @icarusvshozier

[shy-writer-999]

Embarrassing Confessions: Taking Zoro's virginity and talking him through it (Part 2)

WARNINGS: MINORS DNI. THIS IS NSFW CONTENT.

Author’s note: This is smut with some plot at the beginning. ~4.5k words. Continuation of Part One. Reader (afab) takes Zoro’s virginity and talks him through it. Zoro is submissive; you call him a “good boy” (and he likes it). ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊˚ ★

Embarrassing Confessions: Taking Zoro's virginity and talking him through it (Part 2)

Zoro had been going fucking crazy since he spent the night in the crow’s nest with you. He had been thinking about you non-stop for days. He kept focusing on three things—you, the conversation (albeit muddled) about his virginity, and the fact that you had called him “sweet” and “cute.” He held onto his sanity for maybe 12 hours until he started to let himself run wild with fantasies of fucking you. How would it feel? What would your face look like? Would he make you feel good? When it came down to it, would he know what to do with his hands? Would he be able to make you moan his name? He had admittedly thought about it before but something about your last interaction flipped a switch in his brain. He had been so close to you, you had been so kind to him, you didn’t think poorly or weirdly about him being a virgin, you had even told him that you’d like to hang out with him, just him, sometime soon. All combined, this stuff was making Zoro’s poor heart do flips. He already had feelings for you, and this was just adding stuff to the pile of things he liked about you. And while he’d let himself fantasize about fucking you, even about making love to you, he knew that there was just no way he would ever get the chance to have sex with you, ever, let alone ‘lose’ his virginity to you. And besides, he’d die with embarrassment not knowing what to do even if you two did somehow manage to have sex (not in a million years).

Zoro was clueless to how much you liked him and needed him. And you needed him. You had been fantasizing about fucking him for months—nasty, nasty fucking, no less. But, being a virgin and all�� You thought that Zoro probably wouldn’t be pulling your hair and spitting on you right off the bat, if you did manage to pull him. Your confidence shot up after that night together though; he had called you baby and asked you to sleep with him when he was super, super drunk. And they say that drunk words are sober thoughts for a reason. So, either he was just super horny and talking out of his ass, or he had thought about you in some sort of capacity like that before. You were hoping he had, at least. The next time you were alone with him you hoped that something would happen, even if it was as small as seeing him blush, you’d be happy. You had been wondering how good it would feel for him to squeeze your thigh again…

Both you and Zoro had been hoping that another night would happen where it was just you two alone in the crow’s nest or in isolation somewhere else. It would be a treat to just be near one another, to have the other’s undivided attention. And in hoping that so badly you must have manifested it.

So, it was inevitable that you two somehow ended up in the crow’s nest again, alone. It was only a few days after that night where Zoro got super drunk, asked you about your virginity, and got handsy with you. The thoughts and cravings for each other were very much fresh in the mind. To be fair, the night started with everyone on the crew in the crow’s nest. You had been playing card games, sharing bottles of sake, eating snacks that Sanji made, and watching Usopp try to do the worm much to Chopper and Luffy’s amusement.

While everyone else trickled downstairs as the night went on, you and Zoro stuck around. It was a beautiful night—the air was chilly, the stars were bright, and the waves lapped on the ship’s hull. The moon was full and flooded the crow’s nest with pale light.

Zoro was just looking as fineee as always—the pale moonlight casted shadows that made his muscles look even more defined than usual. His jaw was sharp, his eyes steely, his mossy hair ruffled. He just looked so... manly. And fucking hot. Likewise, he could make out your face in the muted light, your eyes kind and yet so sharp, your striking beauty… everything he adored was right in front of him.

Tonight, you had been drinking more than Zoro, but neither of you was blackout drunk or anything (unlike Zoro the other night). Zoro was trying to reign it in on the sake because he didn’t want another embarrassing disaster of drunken belligerence. You were feeling a bit buzzed and flushed in the face, but that was it. Emboldened by the liquid courage and your pure horniness for this man, you had been getting closer to him throughout the night. You needed to be closer to him. You were on the verge of just ripping his clothes off, but you were exerting self-control to the highest degree.

When everyone else had left, you were maybe a couple feet away from Zoro. Your proximity was making him nervous. Beforehand you had been bickering, laughing, gossiping, reflecting on past adventures but now… Zoro had no clue what to talk about or say. All he could think of was how beautiful you looked tonight and how fast his heart was beating. Why am I getting so worked up for no reason? He complained to himself internally, annoyed. Well don’t start being so awkward now that it’s just you two.

In the awkward silence an idea came to your mind. It was like you had been struck by lightning. Zoro had asked you about your virginity before, so why not ask him about his? If you were sober maybe you would have shot the idea down, but it seemed like a sure-fire way to set the tone of the evening and you were so, so horny. Might as well have a little fun with it.

“Hey, Zoro?” You ventured. “I was thinking about our conversation the other night...”

“Oh, uh… Yeah? What about it?” He responded, cringing. That was a seriously embarrassing evening for him, and he regretted getting so drunk he forgot the end of it.

“Well, you asked me some questions so I thought I could ask you some too…” You trailed off and looked into his eyes intently. Your liquid courage was certainly doing its job.

You were far from slurring your words, dizzy, or sloppy. You were simply feeling bolder, less scared, more confident. Zoro wasn’t sure if he was feeling anything other than the intoxication that your presence provoked in him. He was nervous too, aroused, and blushing already, but more than anything, Zoro was completely caught off guard by your comment.

“Go ahead,” he implored, trying to come off as casual as he could. But he had no clue what you were getting at, and he was worried you were about to bring up something else he said when he blacked out.

“You asked me about my virginity, and I didn’t get to ask you about yours at all.” You blushed and looked at him pleadingly, with puppy eyes.

“What did you want to know?” His voice came out hoarse. His words got caught in his throat and his heart almost stopped. So, you had been wondering about him? Wondering about his virginity? He couldn’t believe it. Did he hear you right?

You waited for a second. Were you really about to ask this? Fuck it. “I-I was wondering how you wanted to lose yours.”

Your words hung in the air which now felt thick and almost suffocating. His gaze was fixed on your face, switching between your lips and eyes. He suddenly became hyperaware of how close you were to him. You were almost touching. The atmosphere was intimate, tense, sexually charged… it felt electric. Something was about to happen.

If it had been daytime, you would have seen that Zoro’s face was bright red and he was already starting to get hard. That’s how flustered he had been recently—a mere suggestive question like that set him off.

He stuttered out an answer. “Well—uh… I-I- guess I want to lose it to someone I like.”

The roles had certainly flipped since the other night. Now it was you pushing for answers, you who was getting closer to him, making him feel all sorts of ways. But the difference was that you, unlike Zoro the other night, were fully cognizant of what you were doing, and you were doing it deliberately. You could tell he was almost squirming.

“What would that person be like?” You brazenly pressed him for an answer and got a bit closer. You were touching now, just the side of your knee to his. But he felt like his skin was on fire where you it met with yours. He swallowed dryly, getting harder by the second. Your eyes were riveted on one another’s, so close that if you leaned in you could kiss. His heartbeat was going through the roof.

Zoro was at a loss as for how he should answer your question. He felt like he couldn’t just come out and say that it was you, that would be presumptive, too asinine, creepy, maybe… He had the urge to play off your question and save face, avoid the electricity bolting between you, run from the situation because it made him feel so intensely aroused and nervous at once. He was hoping that it was too dark for you to see his rapidly growing hard on.

“I don’t know.” He blatantly lied, staving off the inevitable moment where he would finally have to muster up the strength to do something about his feelings for once. “Why do you ask?” Zoro diverted the weight of the question and put it back on you.

There was another moment of silence. You were just staring at each other. You were so close; Zoro could see your chest rise and fall with each breath. He could see your eyelashes, your cupid’s bow, your cheeks, your neck… He refused to let his eyes roam lower. God knows what would happen then.

“I’m just curious if it would be someone like me,” you murmured out, lowering your voice. There we go, you said to yourself. There’s no turning back now. That was pretty fucking direct.

Zoro’s breath hitched. He was rock hard, inches away from you. He was in agony. The seconds felt like years. His heart twisted and fluttered. It was now or never.

“It is you.” He almost spat his words out, he was so feeling so many things at once. Reeling at how close you were to him, he had just confessed that he wanted to fuck you, that he wanted you to take his virginity. He felt like he was going to pass out or start floating off the floor. Would you laugh at him? What were you getting at?

When he answered, you felt so validated. He wanted to fuck you. He just said it. You leaned forward.

“Can we?” You asked quietly.

He nodded tentatively, not sure what the nodding would accomplish but hoping you were going to say something else, needing you to do something, or else he was going to pin you down and have his way with you.

“Do you want to do it tonight, Zoro? Can I touch you?” You leaned even closer to him. He was excruciatingly hard. He couldn’t cope. You wanted him.

He word-vomited his response clumsily. “I do, but I-I- have no clue what I’m doing, I don’t think I’d be very good… I’m sorry, I-” He wasn’t able to finish his sentence before you cut him off.

“Let me show you how,” you pleaded. Zoro froze and swallowed hard. He nodded again, indicating that yes, you could show him how. His pants were becoming painfully tight as his erection grew. He needed to be touched. He wanted to touch you.

“Show me,” Zoro barely managed to push the words out of his mouth, which now felt dry and gravelly.

You leaned in and kissed him, finally. Your body was now pressing against his, and he was rigid, blushing so hard you would think he would explode. After a moment of your kissing, he relaxed, and his hands crept up to sweetly cup your cheeks. Zoro wasn't kissing you like you were a one night stand or a friend with benefits... his kisses were tender, kind, gentle, loving, even.

His kisses started timidly but then turned desperate and sloppy. He obviously didn’t know what he was doing. His lips were hungry, his tongue was everywhere, he was already worked up. You pulled away from him.

“Zoro,” you said his name and his heart flipped. “Lay down.” He did as you said, and at the same time you shimmied out of your pants, so you only had a thong and your top on. When Zoro was flat on his back you crawled on top of him and sat straddling him, leaning over him, so your hair tickled his face. His raging hard-on was immediately apparent to you as your clothed pussy rested on it. Zoro felt your weight on top of him and had to stop himself from cumming in his pants.

“First, we do this,” you whispered, and pulled your shirt over your head. Now you only had your bra and a thong on. You reached down and started to tug Zoro’s shirt up and over his head, and he helped speed the process along. He felt like something had set his body on fire.

You took a moment to take in the sight of his arms, his abs, his chest—so toned, strong, and big. Fuck. You ran your hands over his chest and abdomen, and he shuddered, looking up at you, panting already.

Leaning over Zoro, your faces were centimeters apart. “Now take my bra off,” you told him, and his shaky hands fumbled with the clasp. It took him embarrassingly long to unhook it, but he managed. He slipped it off your shoulders and threw it to the side. Your breasts were free now, nipples hard. He was in heaven.

“Touch me,” you breathed out, guiding his hands to rest on your tits. You started kissing him again, harder this time. He was so needy. He immediately started feeling your breasts in every way he could think of—he palmed them, massaged them, rolled your hard nipples between his fingers, kneaded them. He was already letting out puffs of air that would soon turn into moans. He could feel you slowly start to grind on his cock through his pants.  

You pulled away from the sloppy kisses to instruct him again. “Take your pants off.” He did as you said, pulling them down with your help. You pulled his boxier briefs off as well. His huge cock sprung out, hitting the chilly air. It was even longer than you imagined, girthy, already red and inflamed. He laid back down and you mounted him once again, his cock pressing on your already hot and wet cunt.

You started to kiss his neck, suck on his earlobes, kiss his cheeks, his collarbones, worshipping his skin. Zoro was needily grinding his hips up, rubbing his cock against your thong, brushing it against your clit and causing you to buck your hips inadvertently.

You let out a whine. “Be patient Zoro, wait a little bit.” Just hearing you whisper his name sent him spiraling. He felt like an animal, he wanted to devour every part of your body, wanted to fuck you into oblivion… but he held back. You were in control now. He had to just do what you said and hold off on cumming as long as he could.

“Now, grab my ass.” You commanded and Zoro’s hands immediately went to your ass cheeks. He wasted no time squeezing and pulling handfuls of your ass roughly, surely rough enough to leave a bruise. It felt like his hands were everywhere at once. Zoro left one hand on your ass then reached the other to your tits without you prompting and you didn’t correct him. You grinded on his cock now, harder, deliberately. You felt like you were already dripping wet, and you wouldn’t be able to hold on for much longer.

“Zoro, do you want to fuck me?” You breathed the words into his ear sweetly. You could feel him tense up beneath you, he nodded. But that wouldn’t cut it. “I need you to use your words,” you murmured.

“Yes,” his deep voice was hoarse, and he panted. “Yes, I want to fuck you. I need you.”

You grabbed one of his hands and brought it to your thong, sliding the thin strip of fabric to the side. Zoro put his fingertips on your bare pussy lips—glistening wet, throbbing, inflamed, seeping slick onto his digits immediately. Without having to be instructed, he started moving his fingers back and forth and you let out a moan. His heart flipped again. He never thought he would hear you moan and it was beyond anything he could imagine. He was infatuated with you, obsessed with you, he would have done anything you told him to in this moment.

Zoro ventured a finger up into you, slowly extending it inside, where he could feel you convulse on it. You let out another sweet sound, properly moaning his name for the first time.

“Zoro, fuck,” you crooned, and he took that as a sign to slide another finger in. It let out a squelching noise. His fingers explored your insides, feeling the walls, feeling how absolutely sopping wet you were, how your muscles contracted. On instinct, he started to curl his fingers just barely and you moaned immediately.

He was learning what you liked, what would make you feel good. And all he wanted to do was make you feel good. His eyes left his fingers in your pussy and snapped up to your face. Sure enough, your eyes were closed, your face twisted into an expression of ecstasy, your brows furrowed ever so slightly, your mouth screwed up into a small circle letting out little gasps for air and sweet moans.

Zoro had you on the verge of orgasm already. Your hips were bucking, and you were rutting down on his fingers, making him fuck you even harder with them. His fingers were curling inside, spreading you open, coated in your wetness, causing it to pool underneath you on his hand and wrist. His other hand was still kneading your ass, digging into it and pulling on it painfully.

You suddenly grabbed his wrist, gasping, signaling him to stop. You didn’t want to cum just yet without having him inside of you. He pulled his fingers out and went to roughly shove them in your mouth. He had no idea what had gotten into him, but he was feral now. He wanted to see you suck your own wetness from his fingers. He wanted you to look him in the eyes. You sucked his fingers clean slowly. His hips bucked up. He wanted you so badly.

“I want you,” you mewled out, and he took the initiative this time, lining his cock up with your hole. “Zoro,” you told him. “Go really slow.”

Zoro’s tip was pulsing, hot and red against your entrance. He started pressing it into you, agonizingly slow, and you sunk onto his cock centimeters at a time. He felt like he was about to go fucking crazy. As he slowly stretched you open, you let out a series of gasps, but when he finally bottomed out inside of you, he let out his own groan, deep and rumbling, that made your heart flutter.

Your pussy felt mind blowing on his cock. It was tight, wet, soft, velvety, smooth, warm all at once. He had never felt this before, and sex felt better than he could have ever imagined. He couldn’t believe he had been missing out on this for so long, and he couldn’t believe that he was lucky enough for it to be with you.

“Stay like this for a second,” you commanded, looking down at him, and his cock sat buried in your pussy, throbbing. He wanted to fuck you so, so bad. His mind was going into overdrive. He was panting. He didn’t know how long he could go like this, with you cockwarming him. He would just start fucking you eventually. He couldn’t bear it much longer.

You leaned into his face and locked eyes with him as close as you could get.

“Beg for it.” You commanded.

For a split-second Zoro was dumbfounded before he started to beg and plead shamelessly. He felt pathetic, and that was the desired effect. He was surprised by how much he got off on being talked through it, being told what to do to you. He liked that you were in control. He never would have guessed how good it would feel getting bossed around by you, something that had never happened before, let alone during sex.

“Please, please—let me fuck you I-I-uhhhhhggnnnn” Zoro let out deep a moan mid-sentence. His face was twisted in anguish, head thrown back, he was getting worked up. “I want to fuck you so bad. Please.” He was shaking.

“You can, now that you asked so nice,” you smiled sweetly at him, teasing him. You started grinding back and forth on his cock, which was still buried in you. It was rubbing you deeply inside, pushing close to your cervix. You started to get off on it—his cock was huge, and he was panting and begging for you. It turned you on to no end. You were in control of the Roronoa Zoro, and he loved it.

You didn’t grind on his cock much before he took the lead. Zoro grabbed you by your hips and slowly pulled you up off his cock before ramming you down on it again. He let out another deep groan. “Fuck.”

“You’re doing such a good job, Zoro,” you encouraged and coached him from above as he sloppily pulled you up and down his cock. “Keep going just like this. Up and down, up and down, just like that.”

Your praise went straight to his dick. He started fucking you how he wanted, how he had been imagining. His pace quickened and the noises of you fucking were getting louder, wetter—when he pulled you down onto his cock, the slapping echoed. The noises were wet, disgusting, nasty, and needy. You were starting to lose your composure. A string of moans left your mouth, moans of “Zoro,” “fuck,” and “yes,” and “harder.”

“Does that feel good?” Zoro gasped out, choking, begging for more praise. He wanted to make you feel good. He wanted you to feel good with his cock. He wanted to make you cum. You were lost in pleasure at that point, barely aware of what was going on around you, fucked to pure bliss.

“It—feels so good, Zoro—nggghhhh… fuck, Zoro, fuck, you’re doing—doing such a good job—ughhhgghhhhh—such a good boy-” you heaved out your words, and your praise made him crazy. When he heard you utter the last two words, ‘good boy,’ he went ballistic and his heart twisted inside. That turned him on. He liked that you called him that—but he liked your praise, he liked you guiding him through it, he liked that you called him a good boy, he liked that you were in control.

Zoro reached his hand up mid thrust and started clumsily rubbing your pussy, searching for your clit. He rubbed it messily, eliciting another series of moans, croons, praises, and encouragements from you. He was getting the hang of it. He was fucking you and doing it well. You would have never guessed that he had been a virgin before tonight—he was a natural at it. Zoro rubbed and fucked you closer and closer to orgasm. He didn’t even think of the possibility of cumming in you, couldn’t focus on anything other than the present, or he would have busted immediately. He was getting close, too.

Zoro let out moan after moan. He moaned your name, moaned that he wanted you to feel good, moaned that you felt so good on his cock, moaned that your pussy was so tight, so good, so wet. He called you baby, rutting his hips up to shove himself deeper into you.

Zoro was slamming you unceremoniously up and down on his cock. Your tits were bouncing in his face and he was mesmerized. Your face was fucked out, full of pleasure, sweet sounds leaving your mouth, you were animalistic, you were moaning his name again, and again, and again… it was all getting to his head. He was going to cum soon. His pace was frenzied, frantic, desperate, hungry—you could tell that he was getting there.

“Z-zoro,” you gasped for air. “I’m-I’m going to cum, I want—nnnnghhhhhhh—I’m going to cum on your cock.” That sent him over the edge. He was fucking you lightning speed. He was going to pull out and cum on his stomach or something, he couldn’t just cum in you without asking first, he was a gentleman after all, but as you started to cream on his cock and convulse around it, you begged him to cum inside you.

“Zoro I’m—ahhhh—I’m cumming—please, I-I want you to cum in me—mmmmmhhhh—please cum in me,” you begged him, pussy constricting and fluttering from your orgasm around his cock, fingernails digging into his biceps. He didn’t hear anything after that.

When he got the green light, Zoro started to shake and convulse, he reached the peak of his pleasure, and when he came, all he thought about was you, you, you, you, he was looking at you, your tits were bouncing, he was feeling you, fucking you, listening to you, wet from you, heart aching for you. Zoro’s deep groans echoed, rumbling in his chest, his head thrown back, sweat on his brow, breathing quickly, panting. He let out one last body-wracking shudder and jerked upwards, his cum shooting into you and filling you up. He felt nothing but pure ecstasy and bliss, pure pleasure. He was lost in it.

When he came back down to earth (it felt like hours but had been mere seconds), you had collapsed on top of him, breathing heavy, smiling sweetly, leaving kisses on his neck. His cock was still buried inside of you and there was cum leaking out of your pussy and onto his shaft.

He was out of breath. He could feel you pulsing around him still and could feel pleasure still seeping out of you. Looking at you like this, sweaty, naked, content... he felt like he would die from happiness.

“Holy fuck,” Zoro panted.

“Yeah?” You tilted your head from where it was resting on his chest and looked up at him, smiling.

He kissed the top of your head. You blushed again. “Thank you,” he murmured and sighed. You could feel his heart still beating a thousand miles a minute. He groaned and exhaled again. “Fuck.” He felt and shy after going crazy fucking you senseless.

“Oh, we’re not done yet,” you giggled.

“What?” Zoro blushed crimson. “I don’t know if I could go again right now, I’m sorry, I—” He started apologizing and stuttering but you cut him off with a kiss and he melted. He was so cute when he got flustered.

“No, silly.” You smiled at him. “Now, I get to teach you about aftercare.”

--

In case you haven't read it yet, here's part 1.

and here's my masterlist

Okay that’s all for now!! Also here is some photo inspiration so you can get the full picture. ( ◡‿◡ *) (˃ᆺ˂) this man gets me worked up!!! THANK U FOR READING! - Z

[otkuhotgirl]

─── 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖 .

# with roronoa zoro.

after one harsh encounter with the marines, the merry presented malfunctioning in many areas — one of them being the water supply. baths then became shared and scarce. zoro thought he’d have no problem with it; he wasn’t the cook. of course, that was until he saw you naked.

⎰ & fem!reader. smut. solo!male masturbation. edging. oral (male receiving). water play, i guess? bathtub sex. voyeur!sanji at the end.

W.C: 4K.

when the cannonball neared the merry’s hull, none thought much of it. the cook had managed to change its trajectory with one of his irritating kicks, and the explosion was swallowed by the sea with utmost diligence. nami’s instructions led them far from the destroyed marine ships. chopper mended some minor gashes. usopp began to hammer some nails into the damaged deck. you were scolding luffy for his recklessness. robin returned to her book. and zoro himself sat somewhere secluded to take a nap.

nothing was amiss, as that had been but another day for the strawhats.

the peace that followed thereafter was odd, yet welcoming, until the first stars shone above their heads and nami screeched from her spot in the bathroom. half-covered with a towel, the navigator was wide-eyed as she dragged usopp to the showering area, begging him to fix whatever was wrong with the water’s flow.

as predicted, he had no idea what was to be done whatsoever. there was a motive behind the desperation to recruit a shipwright: merry had gathered severe damages through the journey, and it was more a patched wreck than a proper ship at that point. without one to care for it with the demanded professionalism, it would crumble within the month.

the additional harm from the earlier battle was but a droplet in an overflowing mug. the situation was frustrating, of course, yet not one of surprises. after punishing sanji with a punch to the head, nami accessed what was meant to be done next, creating a bathing schedule based on the remnant water. as the distance from the closest island was unknown, and considering that sanji would need a fair amount of water for the meals, baths were to be taken once per five days.

zoro and luffy themselves could not have cared less for that condition, as both were unused to bathing twice a week. chopper and usopp, too, had decent intervals of three days before cleaning themselves. which led to the cook and nami — who were both voicing their discontentment —, and you and robin, who somehow managed to hide it better.

when the long-awaited time to bathe — at least for some — at last arrived, a particular mistake left the crew at an impasse. sanji and usopp shared the bathroom earlier, both too eager, to remind the rest of the male members that they were supposed to join. which meant that the “garbage duo”, as nami voiced out, hadn’t showered. inviting chopper was one thing. extending such courtesy to the men in question was another one entirely.

“i don’t even like showering!” luffy had complained, having his ear gripped by one very enraged nami.

“there’s no way i’m allowing either of you to avoid what’s coming. the entire ship smells like carrion, and the pair of you are at least seventy percent responsible!” she rebuked, although not moving towards the bathroom in the slightest.

“the shitty cook was the one who kicked that damned cannonball!” zoro spat, intervening for the honor of his natural scent — or stench.

“HUH?! WANNA SAY THAT AGAIN, MARIMO?!”

foreheads pressed against one another, smoke swirling from the cook’s lit cigarette. zoro reached for his sword as the other man raised a leg. was it not for robin’s intervention — her next words enough to fill the cook with desperate envy —, the pair would have engaged in one of their countless and predictable fights.

“the bathtub is large enough to fit in six,” she pointed out, as the entire crew held its breath, awaiting for nami’s response.

“NO WAY IN HELL—” the cook began to scream all of the sudden.

“sanji, i’m thirsty,” you interrupted, becoming the object of his devotion. zoro scowled.

“i’ll fetch you a beverage right in this second, my seastar!”

he ran to the inside of the ship, leaving a sudden silence that allowed the involved crewmates to unravel what was at stake.

the navigator pondered the suggestion, sighing as her glance shifted from zoro to their captain, still a victim of her grip on his earlobe. “i’m not sure. a bath with men and women…”

“neither i nor luffy care to bathe,” zoro stated, placing one hand on his nape as he shut his eyes, preparing himself for a nap.

he felt nami’s fist meet the crown of his head. “you will be taking a bath today, walking pigsty!”

zoro placed his palm above the pained area. “WITCH!”

“it’s just luffy and zoro,” chopper pointed out, observing from where he stood, glued to your leg.

lucky guy.

“we don’t have the luxury of wasting water for three baths in a day,” you chimed in, patting the reindeer’s head as he beamed at you, grateful for the support.

nami sighed. “i suppose, if it’s fine for the rest of you.”

due to the overall agreement, the members who yet needed to bathe gathered in front of the door. luffy left no space for awkwardness whatsoever as he kicked it open, bouncing with his fists raised to the air. the unusual excitement was due to the perspective of engaging in a silly water fight — one robin had alluded to in order to convince him.

zoro had been the last in line, and before he could enter the fuming bathroom, sanji gripped the hem of his crumpled shirt, face in a tone of red as he pressed their foreheads together, his expression holding nothing but rage.

“if you dare to do a single weird movement towards our beautiful ladies—”

“i’m not you, perv cook,” he snarled, matching the man’s fervor.

“oi, you two! quit it,” nami shouted from the inside.

zoro grinned all of the sudden, stepping back from sanji’s vicious grip, not once daring to tear his glance from the cook, all too proud to have vexed him so much. he would enjoy the shared space, if only by knowing that sanji would be fuming somewhere in the ship.

he, at last, closed the door, absentmindedly removing his clothes. zoro could hear the splash as luffy sent water everywhere, immediately being scolded by nami, worried about the waste. chopper was humming happily as robin scratched the fur between his horns, and you—oh, fuck.

zoro had to dive in with haste, splashing even more water with his addition to the bathtub. nami shouted at him, yet his mind didn’t process a single word. because you had neither foam nor vapor covering your figure, offering zoro a clear sight of your breasts and legs and the shadow of your pussy.

he shut his eyes, tensing up. the reason behind the mutual decision of that shared bath was due to his and luffy’s lack of interest in trivial manners such as sex and gender divergence. zoro shouldn’t react to your presence that way; it was vile and disrespectful, and a behavior that resembled the cook’s too much for his likings.

you were attractive, of course. zoro had known that from the first instance his glance met yours. you were also strong. and a pleasant companion. and smart. and your nipples were hardening up due to the coldening water. and—damn it!

luffy somehow had the worst timing known by mankind, as his playful actions in the bathtub shoved you straight into zoro’s side. the bare skin of your arm brushed against his own and he nearly combusted. the swordsman had to press the back of his head against the bathtub’s border so that his eyes were trailed to the ceiling instead.

he should have never agreed to this. he should have known better. nami had pointed out weeks prior that reciting your favorite color and food; your sleeping schedule; the things you needed; the chores you hated the most; was something that pointed out to one very obvious four-word feeling. he should have listened to her. damn him and his meaningless pride.

the bath lasted no longer than twenty minutes — the water was precious after all —, yet zoro felt as though he had lost a decade of his lifespan from the second he entered that bathtub to the moment his crewmates started to take their leaves.

he felt you move from his side, and stupidly opened one eye, only to be graced with the full view of your naked body before you covered it with a towel.

again. eyes shut. clenched jaw. he was both in heaven and hell all at once.

“don’t forget to drain the water before you leave,” he heard nami instruct from somewhere.

despite the crew having left the tub, zoro remained glued to his position. oddly enough, his lingering wasn’t frowned upon — merely ignored. perhaps they figured he had fallen asleep.

zoro had never been more awake in his damned life.

once alone, the swordsman started to fist his cock with a vicious grip, teasing the leaking tip with a press of his thumb. he sunk his teeth on the back of his hand, muffling groans of pleasure. he gripped his erection, moving his hand up and down. the water made the movements of his calloused palm smoother; faster, even. yet, he remained just as hard, the lack of release bringing forward a jolt of pain.

glimpses of your figure danced around his closed lids. he thought of those hardened nipples and pictured himself latching his mouth to them, his tongue swirling and biting and sucking, claiming your flesh through a trail of bruises. zoro’s hips jolted at the idea, and he moaned due to the pondering of your legs intertwined with his own; your breasts jumping in sync with your body as you rode him, gripping his shoulders; bouncing on his cock.

he’d have a bruising grip on your ass, guiding your movements, matching them, even — plummeting into you in the exact moments where you sank on his shaft.

zoro’s pace quickened, chasing a release that refused to come. you arched your back in his mind, echoes of your pleasure gracing his ears, nails scratching on his back and eyes glistening with satisfied tears. zoro pictured his tongue in your face, drinking on those same tears with the desperation of a wanderer in the desert.

his cock twitched. you’d cry and beg for more, voicing out his name with a tone of undeniable desire. zoro. zoro. zoro.

“zoro, have i left something—” the handle turned, and he froze.

hand still violently latched to his erection, zoro turned his head towards your surprised figure by the doorway, his throat going dry. you were dressed, clutching to your towel, and as much as he wished to apologize — to say anything — his voice was lost as his treacherous eyes drowned in your figure, unable to ignore the flashes of what laid under the fabric of your clothes.

“‘m sorry, thought you wanted me for something,” you mumbled closing the door behind you.

“huh?” he inquired, dumbfounded.

“you were chanting my name, so i thought—”, you stopped yourself mid-phrase, closing your eyes as if that would grant you courage. “do you? i mean, want me for something?”

could he? zoro swallowed, unsure despite the ache of his cock. he was not that great of a man — hell, there were times he was rather the devil incarnate —, yet there you stood, still dripping from the previous bath, an expectation-filled expression, yearning for him; wishing for a positive answer.

the thought of having you was such a blasphemy that his lust increased. zoro was an undeserving shell of a man who had been blessed with a treasure. one awfully desirable treasure of flesh and sweat and sounds he oh so yearned to hear.

drool connected his hand to his lips as he answered, voice rasping against his throat. “c’mere.”

no other instruction was needed. you caught on his urges with a swift glance, removing your clothes as you approached his spot at the tub. neither hesitation nor embarrassment were suitable between the pair of you. ten minutes prior, you were bare in front of his starved eyes and sharing a bath with four others. when your feet submerged, then, your legs, and at last, your torso, zoro’s arms encircled your waist, causing you to straddle him as you’d done in his mind.

reality made for far much pleasant sight.

yet he had no time to observe it properly, as you started to pepper kisses down his chest, inching closer to his awaiting cock. zoro expected you to replace his hands with yours, and failed to hold a surprised groan when he saw you lower your face underwater and guide your lips to his tip.

that was madness. how were you to breathe down there? but you had stolen the worry from his mind once you dragged your tongue through the entirety of his erection, before swallowing him completely. he gripped his hair and clawed at his own skin, head falling back and a grunt leaving his lips at the sensation. zoro could neither move nor touch you, otherwise, he’d surely end up fucking your throat — a dangerous thing, considering how scarce the air in your lungs was.

so, for once, he spared you an ounce of control.

your hand squeezed his balls, a thumb teasing the sensible inch of flesh between them. your tongue swirled around his tip, while the other hand spared some attention to the neglected extension of his shaft. with an accidental buckle of his hips, zoro shoved his dick inside, and the gag you let out brought bubbles of air to the surface.

zoro couldn’t quite see you, which was a terrible shame. yet, he could feel your lips doing its magic. hollow cheeks and careful teeth. a swift palm gripping his shaft and moving it up and down. a warm tongue enveloping the rest of him. he grunted out of the pleasure and desperation to touch you, marveled to witness the rise of your face above water, gasping for air; hand still on his cock.

he could not have you returning there, as much as his primal instinct shouted otherwise. zoro needed to have you in his arms, despising the consequences that forced him to be meek and composed, measured movements that didn’t mirror the reciprocal need.

“have i done something you disliked?” you inquired, puzzled at the interruption, hesitating to touch him further.

the swordsman dragged your figure back to his lap, scoffing as if you had offended him. “there’s nothing you could do to me that i wouldn’t like. we clear? don’t fucking think that again.”

zoro wasn’t sure where to first guide his hands. he was a man capable of handling three swords at once, yet the indecisiveness clawed at him. with a grin, observing your awaiting face, he decided to wield you as he would his steel.

zoro’s mouth clashed against yours, pushing his tongue inside and swallowing the gasp of surprise born from his touch. it was the sea meeting the rocks at the shore; his teeth colliding with your own as his lips claimed you with bruising force.

his first hand groped your breast, a finger pinching at the hardened nipple. zoro rolled a thumb over it, pleased with the elicited reaction. his other hand busied itself with a fistful of your ass, nails digging into the flesh as he parted it open.

your back arched, inching your chest closer. zoro growled, biting on your lower lip before latching his sinful mouth to your neck and collarbone, sucking on the skin and soothing the bruises with a warm tongue.

you started to move your hips, chasing friction, gripping his shoulders as if he was the solemn thing tethering you to that realm. zoro observed your face, contorted due to the pleasure, and was left wide-eyed. zoro cursed deities he had no faith in, for he wasn’t born with the talent to draw or write or sing, therefore unable to immortalize that singular expression; to praise your existence as you deserved it to. the swordsman wondered if you’d appreciate him if he wrote your name with the blood of those who dared to cause you harm. violence was the language he spoke. it also happened to be one you understood.

zoro felt the vibrations of the water sent to his muscles through the small jets of the tub, noticed the continuous teasing waves. he wondered, was he capable of fucking you with your cunt positioned close to it?

he swallowed. “you trust me?”

“with my life,” you answered, whimpering as your cunt slid effortlessly on his thigh.

zoro gripped your hips, turning your body without struggle. he trailed kisses down your back as you gripped the edge of the tub, with your cunt strategically placed near one of the jets. zoro pressed his chest against your back, two of his digits sliding into your awaiting folds. he moved them up and down — searching —, until he found the bundle of nerves. zoro’s lips brushed above your earlobe, blossoming goosebumps brought from his hot breath.

“how?” he inquired roughly. how do you like it?

your voice failed as you answered, the instructions broken due to a choir of moans caused by the stimulation from both his fingers and the water jet. zoro pressed himself closer, panting as he bucked his hips, seeing stars from the smallest contact.

“wish i could take my time,” zoro rasped, observing the muscles of your back. “wanted you to squirm under me a little longer.”

you moaned as he fastened the pace of one finger, while sliding the reminiscent digit to your entrance, accessing the lubrification. zoro fingered your cunt with awe, observing as the crystalline water was tainted white.

“m-more,” you begged, cranning your head to try and catch a glimpse of him. “you. need you.”

zoro grinned, licking on the lonesome droplets of water on your back. “you have me.”

“don’t make me say it.”

he stopped the movement of his fingers, retrieving the one who was once inside of you. you whimpered at the absence, to curse him thereafter.

“i need your cock,” you snarled, and zoro shuddered with anticipation, aware that he’d enjoy demolishing such attitude.

he positioned himself at your entrance, careful as not to remove your figure from the water jet. zoro’s least intention was to hurt you during your first time, and the stimulus from the vibrations guaranteed that he wouldn’t.

the swordsman was a man of composure. yet, as your walls enveloped his cock, he had to grip the edges of the tub in order not to move before your allowance. his teeth dug on the flesh of your shoulder, and you whimpered, eyes shut closed. he had never seen a prettier sight.

your chest rose and fell, nipples pressed to the tub’s surface. he buried his nose in your nape, hating the industrial scent from your perfume, wishing for nothing but to ruin you; to defy the structure of nature and fuck you enough to have you covered in sweat despite the cold water that surrounded you both.

“move,” you said through gritted teeth, although reconsidering right after. “please.”

“aren’t you a quick learner?” zoro mocked, a smug smile etched on his features.

he observed the gears turning your head. the answer at the tip of your tongue. and then he stole your capacity to speak.

whatever sentence you meant to utter melted and gave way to a luscious moan. zoro thrusted into you with diligence and precision, ignoring the ache of his knees as he removed his shaft until the tip, only to hammer it yet again, drunk in the way your pussy hugged his cock — starving, desperate, demanding to be filled. it was not the sweet beckoning of a lover, but the challenge of a rival. he marveled at the sound of your moans; at the white essence that pooled between the pair of you.

again and again, his cock rammed into you. zoro’s hands gripped your waist, his teeth on your shoulders, muffling the broken cacophony of his voice. you tried to adjust your hips in order to match his pace, yet your movements were sloppy.

the sound of his balls meeting your ass was overtaken by the splash of water, crystalline and fluid upon its entrance, and an ivory cream in its egress.

zoro drew circles in your clit, regardless of the odd angle to his wrist, movements growing ever so sloppy as you clenched on his cock, guiding him to the gates of heaven. the water jet, the teasing of your clit, his never-ending pace, and his shaft sliding through your cervix ruthlessly were an overstimulation of itself. your eyes were filled with tears, and you had to cover your mouth in order to muffle a shout of pleasure.

he clicked his tongue in disapproval, slapping your hand. zoro pushed two fingers inside of your lips and tore them open, your jaw growing slack; exhausted vocal cords.

“don’t you dare cover those sounds,” he demanded, shoving his cock deeper. “i want to hear you sing for me.”

you babbled the syllables of his name — or so he figured — crying into the edge of the tub. your choir of disharmony sent a jolt of adrenaline through his body, similar to those gained during battling, and zoro forced your ass to meet the pace of his cock, slapping and splashing added to the orchestra of that moment.

zoro was close. he felt the cum threatening to spill as though a half-opened faucet, tears of his own pooling in his eyes as he tried to hold it back, if only for the sake of watching you crumble first.

a muffled sound — not yours, and definitely not his — managed to break through his concentration. zoro halted all of the sudden, to which you whimpered and cursed. his ears peaked up, a grin of pure mischief dominating his features once he realized who had produced such a thing.

“shitty cook’s watchin’ us,” he groaned close to your earlobe, eyeing the subtle crevice of the door.

you sent a dazed glance towards the cook’s not-so-hidden position, and zoro heard him whine at the sight.

“lemme give him a proper show. you can take it, right?” yet it was not a question per se, and rather an affirmation.

zoro gave his knees a break, sitting on the tub. he dragged you with him, somehow managing to keep his dick inside. you fell on his lap, back against his chest; head pending to the sides above his shoulder. zoro dragged his canines along your pulsing point, and you whimpered. somewhere, zoro heard the cook whine. the swordsman gripped your hips and started to guide your bounces, matching the imposed rhythm with his hips. he eyed the door with a grin, fingers lazily teasing your folds as you rode him, moaning with your eyes closed.

zoro licked the salty tears dripping down your cheeks, observing you squirm with a sense of pride.

“‘m c-close,” you whined, and he increased his pace, grunting as your walls tightened around his cock.

“touch yourself,” he voiced, unable to do so as one of his hands guided your hip and the other circled your clit.

you complied, groping your breasts and pinching your nipples, arching your back. the movement had shifted your position on his cock, allowing him to slam deeper into you.

a streak of blonde hair broke through the door. zoro shifted, offering an entire view of your figure to the cook. his grip tightened, glance menacing. zoro heard the fisting of the other man’s cock, grinning to himself. the cook had to pleasure himself with the thought of you; forced to witness your tits bouncing and face contorted in pleasure, yet never given the chance to touch you. to taste you.

zoro came without warning. his seed dripped from your hole and he fastened his fingers, allowing you to reach your own ecstasy. you fell limp on him, chest moving heavily in an attempt to gather your thoughts. still with his softening cock inside, zoro moved afar from the shared cum that floated on the water, marveling at the trail of his seed that accompanied your cunt.

with some possession, he gripped the side of your neck, mumbling nonsense against your skin. his lips sucked softly on the tender spots, and though you hummed in dazed delight, zoro noticed the crease of your forehead.

“trying to mark me, zoro?”

he grinned, eyes glued to the door. “already did. mine to touch, aren’t you?”

you hummed in agreement, but zoro wasn’t taking any of that. still with your walls around his dick, he raised his hips on purpose. you yelped, gripping his arm.

“aren’t you?”

“yes, i am yours to touch, fuck—”

the swordsman heard the cook’s steps. he could have the sight of your naked figure engraved into his restless mind. zoro didn’t care; not when he had the real thing.

— 🐈‍⬛ : hi, welcome to chili’s. don’t ask me the color of anything. i ෆ men who whimper.

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

The Kiss of a Siren 🫧

Pirate!Leon S Kennedy x Siren!reader

A/N: it's done!!! I actually love how this turned out! This was a really fun pairing to write and I can totally see myself writing more Pirate!Leon in the future :)

~Fi 🐝

《Content》: a little bit of gore, but not descriptive. Death (a girl's gotta eat)Luis cameo! MIKE CAMEO! Leon runs straight into danger (Aka being Leon)

《Word count》: 6.1k

Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ──🌊── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ──🌊── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The ocean laid almost still, only soft and gentle waves blew over the water, causing it to ripple and lap at the wooden hull of his mighty ship. His gaze turned towards the horizon, watching as the moon reflected and glitter on the surface.

There was a soft slosh from his nearly empty bottle of rum as he took another swig, the burning as it went down starting a fire in his veins and being the only thing shielding him from the cold and salty breeze.

It was dark, all lights extinguished. His crew and his first mate were slumbering peacefully beneath deck, all rocked to sleep by the sea.

A feeling of melancholy washed over him as a sigh rolled off his lips. He knew his heart belonged to the sea, but he couldn't help the pressing loneliness in his chest on nights like these, wishing he had a fair lady to love.

Maybe then he'd consider coming home now and then.

He loved the ocean dearly, but she couldn't dry his tears and fill his arms as a woman of his own could.

He shook off the thought, taking a breath and focusing on the peaceful sway of his ship, looking forward to another day of wearing his Tricorn. Stolen, of course, although earned. Perhaps not by the accords of the Captain he'd snagged it from, but by his loyal crew.

Although Leon was a pirate, he wasn't heartless. He'd been through every terrible storm and ruthless attack with these men, and they respected him as their Captain.

There was no mutiny, no plans of overthrowing him, simply because he hadn't given them a reason to.

He was often called the Robin Hood of the seven seas; taking from the rich and cocky and giving it to the less fortunate. Of course he still plundered purely for the fun of it, but only other pirates.

They knew to avoid him, especially if they were the rowdy kind that took from the poor.

Because, above all, he wasn't just the greatest pirate Captain since Anne Bonny but a harbinger of justice that could both lend a gentle hand to those in need and strike fear into the hearts of anyone who had crossed him or his morals.

He was pulled out of his self pity by a distressed sound that cut through the silence of the night like a freshly sharpened cutlass. His brows pulled together as his eyes searched for the source of this noise.

Leon was on high alert, he wouldn't be surprised if rival pirates were using distress calls as bait for an ambush. Setting down the empty bottle of dark rum, he went over to the other side of his ship, facing the sandy shore.

And, as if the gods wanted him to see, he spotted a woman desperately clinging onto a large rock in the water. She was perfectly illuminated by the moonlight, even as she sobbed and struggled, she looked ethereal.

Leon sprung into action and climbed down the rope ladder at the side of his ship into a row boat.

What he hadn't noticed in his hurry, however, was the faint glow of a lantern being lit and a dark figure watching him carefully from atop his ship.

"Hold on, I'm coming for you!" He said loudly, rowing with his entire might as he saw the woman slipping.

"I-.. I can't hold on much longer, please help me!" She wept, seemingly trying to dig her nails into the algae covered boulder as best she could. Seeing her in such distress made his heart ache.

He didn't want to imagine what the outcome would be if he hadn't spotted her. With heaving breaths and a pull in the muscles of his arms, he rowed closer and closer, seeing her more clearly now.

She was quite beautiful, with her wet hair clinging to her skin and her tears glittering on her cheeks.

His boat bumped into the rock as he jumped up and held out his hand for her to grasp onto.

"Here. Just take my hand, I'll help you." Leon heaved, trying to steady the wooden vessel.

You reached for him, tightly clinging to his arm as he reeled you in like a fisherman would his catch of the day.

How ironic, you thought, having to stop yourself from smirking.

Your tail swished in the water, concealed by its darkness, as you made an effort to keep up your act.

"Thank you. Gods, you saved my life. I just wanted to bathe but the current ripped me away and I couldn't-" You babbled through sobs and wails.

"Calm down, alright? I've got you. You're safe." He spoke softly, much softer than you'd anticipated.

His huge yet gentle hands were steadied on your upper arms as you tightly gripped the edge of the boat.

"I'll help you into the boat." He breathed, now very aware of your bare skin. Your eyes widened slightly and your grip tightened.

"I- no, no, I... I'm so exhausted... I just need a break.." you tried to assure him with a half hearted smile.

"Oh, yes, of course." He chuckled awkwardly, sitting back down but still keeping a hand on you, just in case.

Your eyes glid over his form. His broad shoulders and bulging arms with a strong chest. Not to mention the mix of soft and sharp features and those beautiful blue eyes.

They reminded you of home. The deep, silent and peaceful parts of the ocean.

Lucky you; your dinner looked extra delicious today. Your mouth watered at the mere thought of sinking your teeth into his flesh and taking a bite.

It was quiet except for the waves crashing onto the rocks and the small ripples caused by you sloshing agaisnt the wood of his boat. You gazed upon eachother, a scene bathed in the fairest of moonlights, as your shared curiosity took over.

His hand slowly migrated to gentle hold your face as his thumb softly, but not without a hesitant twitch in his fingertips, wiped away at your tears.

Tears that shimmered like diamonds and the most notorious treasures of the seas. Leon was mesmerized, almost captivated, by your presence.

Something was pulling him in, something so deceiving, that he let himself slowly slip into your spell.

"A girl like you shouldn't be out alone past dusk." Leon broke the tense silence with quiet words as he brushed some of the hair clinging to your forehead out of your face. Your lips turned up into a soft smile, and Leon could feel his heart pound at your beauty.

"A girl like me?" You asked playfully, trailing you hand from the wooden edge to gently grasp at his arm. He thought for a moment.

"A girl so... beautiful. So sweet. So soft." His words were merely above a whisper and you could see his chest falling and rising just a little faster than before.

His pupils almost swallowed up the entirety of his pretty blues, making you mourn the mirroring image of your home.

"You flatter me." You replied with a soft chuckle, your other hand rising up to plant itself against his chest. He instinctively leaned forwards, his warm breath tickling your face.

There was a hint of sadness in your chest and it was getting harder to play the part. It seemed so easy to fall for those sandy locks and ocean eyes.

The line was awfully thin and you'd be damned if you crossed it.

"Tell me, what's your name?" You asked innocently, fiddling with the strings of his shirt.

"Leon." He swallowed thickly, his other hand itching to dip beneath the surface of the water, pull you out and whisk you away as his treasure, only for him to know the beauty that you hid beneath that darkness.

"Leon..." You tested his name on your tongue with a small smile and gazed up at him with such a bright sparkle in your eyes. Leon thought he was about to choke on air.

You gently, but with a firm hand, pulled him closer to you, your lips just a hairs breadth apart.

"What is it you desire, Leon?" You purred, your eyes darkening. Leon was hunched over, halfway to toppling into the water.

Right where you wanted him. His lips were parted and his cheeks were flushed, his pupils dilated so much you could spot yourself in them.

"You." He breathed out, leaning in far enough to brush your lips together.

You cracked a smile and brought your lips to his ear.

"How unfortunate." You whispered.

Those words made him snap back into reality, the hazy fog over his mind lifted enough to catch the sharp teeth as you smiled and the scattered, shimmering scales he'd missed before.

But it was no use.

The second he had realized, he was pulled under, ripped from his steady seat in the boat and plunged into dreadful darkness.

The air was knocked from his lungs and he struggled against your surprisingly strong hold on him as you dragged him deeper. Leon could see the moonlight fading, reaching out for it.

You, on the other hand, were euphoric. Ravenous for your meal.

Usually, you'd wait. Drown your prey and watch the life drain from their eyes, making them dull. But there was something about him that made you so impatient. So eager to get a taste.

Without another thought you sunk your teeth into his strong shoulder and reveled in the sweet taste of his flesh.

Leon screamed out in agony, but it was dulled and muffled by the water. Bubbles rose up as he desperately tried to get you off of him. His strength was exhausted, and the red tinting the water blurred his vision.

You hummed against his skin at the delightful taste of him. To your dismay, your feast was cut short by a loud noise, making you detach from Leon and flinch away.

Before you could get far, there was a searing pain in your tail, the salty waters now stained with your blood instead of his. A silvery harpoon was embedded in your tail, shooting hot spikes of agony up your spine.

You swam as fast as you could with the weapon in your fin, bullets whizzing past you as your form merged into the deep blue, vanishing before his eyes.

Leon pushed up to the surface with his uninjured arm before a hand plunged into the water and grasped him tightly before pulling him up to the surface.

He gasped for air and heaved in deep breaths as someone wrangled him into the boat.

The shirt on his left shoulder was ripped and stained with deep crimson as the rest of the wet fabric clung to his sculpted body. There were heavy pats on his back as he coughed up water, wincing at the excruciating pain in his shoulder.

"¡Joder! Are you alright, Capitán?" The frantic voice of his ever so loyal first mate, Luis Serra, rang in his ears, making him slack in relief.

"¡Mierda!. That beast got you good, huh?" He tried to lift the mood with a chuckle but Leon couldn't respond, his head spinning as he slowly took in his surroundings again.

Luis had a lit lantern with him, which got knocked over in his attempt to save Leon, his blunderbuss laid in the boat, smoke pluming from the barrel. A couple of harpoons were laid out as well, ones they'd usually use for fishing.

"Thank... Thank you.." Leon forced through heavy breaths as he held his bleeding shoulder.

"Always, Captain. Let's get you fixed up, eh, Sancho Panza?" Luis grinned helping Leon up onto the ship, who cracked a tired smirk at the friendly banter.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Leon was lost in thought as he sat on the edge of his sofa, a singular lantern illuminating his day cabin. He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he replayed the events in his mind.

With a heavy sigh he slumped back against the soft cushion, wincing when he adjusted his arm. There were so any feelings weighing down on him. Pure, hot fury. The urge to hunt you down, gut you and hang you out to dry.

He knew of your kind, of course he knew, the maneating maidens with the voice of a nightingale. Half fish, half woman. Sirens caused the worst shipwrecks, he'd heard the stories from the very few that were lucky enough to escape their clawed grasp.

There was shame. Ashamed that someone like him was so easily fooled by a pair of pretty eyes and a smile so sweet he could feel his teeth ache.

Was he just desperate and pathetic? Longing so deeply for a maiden of his own that he'd jumped at the first opportunity? Wasn't it honorable that he'd sprung into action to save a damsel in distress? He didn't know. He lived up to his reputation, that's for sure, but Leon couldn't bring himself to take the credit. He never could.

And then there was this bubbling curiosity. The urge to know more, to see you again. He didn't understand. You'd almost taken his life, yet there was not an ounce of fear for you in him. He was intrigued, he needed to see you again.

Whether it was to squeeze answers out of you or to get a smidge of that connection back.

He damn near broke his head in two that night after he'd retreated to bed, wondering if some of it was real. It felt real to him.

The way you looked at him, spoke to him, touched him. It all seemed so real and genuine. Were creatures like you even able to feel things of that sort? He didn't know.

What he did know was not only had you had his flesh between your sharp teeth, but his heart, too, it seemed.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

The sun sparkled on the surface of the ocean as the Lone Rookie treaded along her path, splitting the waves.

Captain Kennedy and his crew were leisurely sailing across the calm sea, letting the tide guide them. He stood atop the quaterdeck, giving directions to the pirate that manned the wheel, knowing this part of the wide ocean like the back of his hand.

His first mate was keeping watch over the remaining crew, making sure their daily tasks were done as they should be.

Some were scrubbing the deck, others were covered in soot from keeping the cannons in good condition while the rest was busy hoisting the sails.

His coat looked pristine and elegant with the golden appliques sewn onto it. His Tricorn sat proudly atop his sandy locks adorned by a large, fluffy feather. His leather boots shone in the sun, same as his belt, that held his cutlass and blunderbuss.

His shoulder was still healing, the arm hanging close to his body instead of in the sleeve of the coat to minimize the strain.

It had been weeks since he almost met his end at your hands. Leon's mind had been occupied by thoughts of you since, wondering if he'd ever see you again.

There was shouting coming from the crow's nest, drawing his attention away from thoughts of you. They were coming up to a small formation of sharp rocks emerging from the water, but the lookout claimed to have seen something shimmering, bringing hope for it to be a lost treasure.

The Lone Rookie was carefully maneuvered closer to the boulders, being mindful so she wouldn't shatter to pieces against the rocks. But before anyone had the chance to inspect this mystery further, all heads turned in search of a soft melody that seemed to he carried by the wind.

Upon one summer's morning, I carefully did stray

Down by the Walls of Wapping, where I met a sailor gay

Conversion with a young lass, who seemed to be in pain

Saying William, when you go, I fear you'll never return again

Whispers and questions echoed across the deck as they searched for the source of this enchanting tune. The crew slowly moved in tandem, migrating towards the edge of the ship.

Leon's brows furrowed as he took out his spyglass and tried to spot something between the rocks against the blinding sun.

A shiver ran down his spine when he laid his eyes on none other than you, in all your beautiful, sparkling glory. Your tail shimmered in all colors, and your skin was glistening from the water.

You were going to be the demise of his ship if he didn't act now. With a quick movement his spyglass was attached to his belt once again.

"Everyone below deck. Now!" He yelled, seemingly breaking his men from their trance. They scattered like rats, obeying their Captain.

"Capitán-" Luis began but was swiftly cut off.

"You too. Now."

"Leon-"

"Go."

With hesitancy Luis, too, made his way below deck. Though he did stay close, just in case. How his Captain thought he was invincible made him want to shake his head.

Leon kept his eyes on you, a hand resting on his blunderbuss. He spotted one of his men, a gunner named Mike, out of the corner of his eye.

"Mike, get below deck. Now!" He yelled, not getting a reaction.

The gunner's arms hung slack by his side as he slowly stepped further towards that lovely melody, drawing him in.

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold

The words glid easily off your tongue as you eyed your next meal before your gaze flitted to Leon for a moment. He locked eyes with you and you could faintly see him scowl which made the corners of your mouth twitch upwards in a mischievous smile.

Mike had now reached the edge and was leaning over, his pupils dilated as his eyes were trained on you and your beauty.

"Mike!" Leon rushed towards him, gripping his shoulders and trying to pry him away from what would be his certain death.

As if suddenly possessed by inhuman strength he shook his Captain off of him with ease and climbed down the rope ladder at the side of the ship.

"Goddammit." Leon cursed under his breath.

"Snap out of it! Don't listen to to her!" He tried to reason with his best gunner, but there was only so much he could do from atop the ship.

Leon watched as Mike eagerly descended into the water and swam your way.

You held out your hand in a tantalizing manner, watching as he reached you and desperately clawed his way up the rock.

His hair it hangs in ringlets, his eyes as black as coal

My happiness attend him wherever he may go

From Tower Hill to Blackwall, I'll wander, weep and moan

All for my jolly Sailor, until he sails home

Mike panted with a smile has he gazed upon you.

"The gods have heard me." He spoke brightly, steadying himself with one hand in the slippery rock and the other on your hip.

The gesture made you want to physically recoil. They usually never lived along enough to lay a hand on you. Still, you put on your best face and cupped his cheek, pulling him closer.

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold

With the last, softly sung note you chuckled, a sound that could rival your singing. Mike drew closer, his breath on your face.

Your stomach twisted and turned when you remembered who else's warm breath you could feel on your face just a few moons ago. A much more pleasant and welcome sensation than from your next meal.

"You're all I've ever wanted." Mike spoke quietly, making you giggle and lean in to whisper in his ear.

"What a shame."

Your teeth dug into the side of his neck, puncturing his jugular as he let out a blood curdling scream and desperately clutched his neck.

In a calculated move, you slid down the rock with a tight grip on your prey and pulled him under, his blood staining your skin.

Leon's blood boiled as he watched one of his best men die in front of him. He wanted to gut you and parade around your corpse for everyone to see, but there was a sick and twisted jealousy in the pit of his stomach.

You had charmed and enchanted Mike just as you had him, but there was a part deep inside his heart that hoped he was special. You didn't put up a damsel on distress act for Mike, but you did for him. Surely all that effort must've meant something? He felt nauseous at his thoughts and returned his attention back to you.

You were smiling at him, your sharp teeth stained with blood before you dove under and splashed your fin, a noticeable scar from the harpoon sitting on the glittering skin.

He slammed his fists down on the wooden railing, a few splinters flying overboard. Luis emegered from below deck and hurried toward him.

"What happened?" He asked hurriedly. Leon stayed silent for a moment, sighing deeply, his eyes trained on the pool of red around the rocks.

"She got Mike." He spoke coldly, faintly hearing the gasps and sounds of sorrow from his crew.

His jaw clenched as he swiftly turned on his heel and waltzed towards his cabin, slamming the door shut behind him.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

The death laid heavy on him as he tried to find some solace at the bottom of yet another bottle of rum. Though not alone in his state of mourning,

Luis sat next to him, puffing a cigar. Not as his first mate, but as his friend.

"I have to find her." Leon spoke sternly, deep in his thoughts.

His hands were intertwined and tucked under his chin, most of his weight resting on his elbows.

"Won't be too hard. She keeps showing up where you are. Maybe she likes you." Luis grinned, tapping his cigar over the glass ashtray.

Leon hated how that speculation made his heart jump in his chest. He shouldn't feel like this, especially after you'd cruelly killed one of his best men. But he just couldn't help the giddy feeling in his stomach. He didn't physically react apart from a sharp glare that made Luis put his hands up in mock surrender, and the faintest of blushes dusted on his cheeks.

"You know what they say about the kiss of a Siren, eh?" Luis began with a mischievous smirk, taking a drag from the roll of tobacco. Leon leaned back into his chair with a tight-lipped sigh.

"What, that you'll 'control the mighty seas and command the storms'? All bullshit if you ask me." He muttered, a slight frown on his face.

"Whatever you say, Capitán." Luis blew a new plume of smoke with a faint smirk playing on his lips.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

You carefully poked your head out of the water and watched the Lone Rookie, specifically the handsome Pirate Captain that you'd gotten a taste of.

You've been mesmerized by him ever since you met him that night. Those kind eyes, that gentle touch... could he really be a pirate? He was nothing like the dirty brutes that you had the displeasure of meeting.

Your curiosity is what urged you to follow his ship and observe him almost every day since you'd eaten one of his crew. You did feel a little bad about it afterward, guilt eating away at you as you twirled a button from his shirt between your fingers.

What we're you even going to do with it? Give it Leon as a peace offering? Now, that seemed unnecessarily cruel.

In your defense, you had to eat something. It wasn't your fault that you were cursed to be a Maneater.

Some were whiny and outright annoying while others disgusted you to the point where you'd just leave them drifting in the sea and went off to find another, their behavior ruining your appetite.

Gods, what were you thinking!? He probably hated you know. A fair outcome, you supposed. You wouldn't be very happy if someone ate one of your friends.

You dove back under, pondering your options. You knew you shouldn't, but something about him was so intriguing that it was impossible for you to stay away.

How ironic that the Siren seemed to be caught in a spell.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

The panic that arose in your chest as you struggle against the rough rope you'd managed to get tangled in was like nothing you'd felt before.

You were always so careful, kept your distance so no sailor would get their hands on you and do Gods know what.

You clawed and gnawed at the net, hoping your sharp teeth could cut you free. You were getting closer and closer to the surface, your eyes not having enough time to adjust as you were ripped from the deep.

Making yourself as small as possible, you waited in dreadful anticipation, saying goodbye to the ocean.

"This' a big one, Cap'n!" One of his men cackled, grunting as he continued to pull in the net.

Leon quirked a brow and stepped down from the quaterdeck, his belt rustling and his boots clacking against the wood as he walked. He waited patiently as his men reeled in their net, speculating about a big fish that would last them for weeks.

They plopped you down onto the deck unceremoniously, your tail hitting the floor with a thud as you pressed your back agaisn the railing, hoping to just disappear.

You hadn't even noticed Leon yet, to caught up in your fear to see how his eyes almost popped out of his head as his gaze landed on you.

"You." He breathed out, an unidentifiable mix of emotions in his tone.

Your head shot up, recognizing his voice, before it quickly fell again in shame, avoiding all eye contact with the handsome Captain. There were murmurs and whispers form the crew, some demanding to get revenge for their dearest friend and others that were interested in how much you'd go for on the fish market.

"What do we do with her, Capitán?" Luis asked from behind him, an uncharacteristically unsure tone to his usually so confident demeanor.

Leon's mind was void of all rational thoughts as he kept taking you in. How you cowered and kept your head down, seemingly afraid to even move a single muscle.

You were so confident in the water, seducing and luring men to their demise, but as soon as you hot caught on dry land all that cockiness evaporated and you looked more like a scared girl than a flesh-eating monster of the seas. He glanced around quickly before answering his first mate.

"Put her in that barrel." Leon gestures towards it haphazardly, continuing to bore holes into you with his look.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

That's how you ended up here. Cramped in a wooden barrel, sailors shooting you weird looks as you tried your best to sink as deep as you could, hoping to run from their judgmental gazes.

You'd find Leon staring at you from afar, striking under his gaze.

The protection of the sea was gone now. You were out of your element, and he was in his. You tried your best to behave, hoping they'd just get bored of you eventually.

Your first attempt at escaping and went as followed;

You nervously glanced around the deck, hoping you'd catch a moment where no eyes were on you. Leon seemed occupied looking at various maps with his first mate, while the crew was busy fulfilling their duties. You took your chance and took a breath to start singing, hoping you'd get them to dump you overboard so you could swim for it.

Before even a single not left your throat, a large hand was slapped over your mouth, muffling any sounds you would've made. Leon stood above you, his stature completely blocking off the sun.

"Don't even think about it. One of my men was enough." He said lowly, fueling the fire of guilt in your heart. You tried your best to ignore how his touch sent a prickly feeling down your spine.

You'd crossed the line miles ago, and you were swimming straight for the Bermuda triangle.

The sparkling moonlight on the ripple of the sea brought you no solace as you stared at the deep blue with longing, wishing you were back in your home.

You'd been on the Lone Rookie for about a week. Leon insisted on not letting you starve, to the dismay of some of his men, so they fed a part of their daily catches to you.

It wasn't human flesh, but enough to keep you going. Although you were around people all day, you hadn't felt more lonely. The disgusted expressions and whispered insults started to wear on you.

You were here only because you couldn't resist a couple of blue eyes and sandy hair that reminded you of the bottom of the ocean.

The door of the Captain's cabin opened and Leon stepped out with a lantern in hand, walking towards you.

Your heart was starting to beat faster but you still wouldn't meet his eyes. He placed the light on the railing next to you and leaned against it, staying quiet. You could tell he wanted to look at you, maybe even talk to you, but he held himself back.

The button in your hand seemed to almost burn your skin as you grasped it tighter. This was your chance at mercy and freedom.

"I'm... I'm sorry about your friend." You muttered quietly, the water in the barrel splashing gently as you turned your body to face Leon.

He was slightly stunned at your apology, maybe that you spoke at all, yet he didn't reply.

You bit your tongue, not knowing whether saying any more would be a good idea. You wordlessly lifted your hand out of the water and presented the button to him.

A soft crease formed between his brows as he eyes the button.

".. What's this?" He asked quietly.

You swallowed and raised your hand higher.

"From your friend." Your voice was merely above a whisper.

Hid jaw slacked slightly before he let his head fall forwards and let out a soft huff.

"Thank you." He replied softly as he took the button and squeezed it tightly, holding his hand to his chest.

There was a beat of silence before all your self-control left you, and you couldn't stop the words that spilled out of your mouth.

"I just couldn't stay away from you. That's what got me into this whole mess." You sighed, resting your head against the rim of the barrel.

Leon's head snapped towards you, your words igniting fire in his heart.

"You're just so... so.. different. I didn't actually think anyone would come to save me that night. I mean, I wasn't actually in trouble, but it was nice, still. You're nice. Not like all the other pirates I've met. They're rough and rude and.. you're not. I just can't stay away."

You laid your heart out for him. His heart was about to jump out of his chest, and his cheeks were dusted in a deep pink as he processed your confession.

He was speechless, his brain trying to come up with an answer.

You, on the other hand, were tugging at your hair, anxiously waiting for a reply. He could reject you, and you'd finally be able to move on, but as long as the option of him reciprocating was there, so were you.

Leon swallowed thickly, the way the moonlight was shining down one you once again not making it easier for him to finally find his words.

"I can't stay away either..." he confessed quietly.

"I know it sounds silly considering that's your whole deal, but... It felt real to me. Even if you bit me, even if you killed my best gunner, I..." he chuckled, running a hand through his hair and looking up at the stars.

"I've never... felt like that before. Never thought love was in the cards for me. You changed that." He spoke softly, gently guiding your head to look at him.

It was the first time you'd actually met his eye for days and it felt like your heart was going to melt right out of your chest. You were just as stunned by his words as he was by yours.

"It was real." You replied eagerly, lifting yourself out of the barrel to be closer to him.

"You remind me of my home. Your eyes are like the sea when she's calm and welcoming and your hair is like the sand at the bottom of the ocean, where all sorts of treasures can be found." You rambled breathlessly, the proximity of him making the air hard to breathe

. Leon was breathing heavily just as you were before he helped support you by placing a steady hand on your lower back.

"I just... I'm sorry for biting you, but I had to get a taste." Your face felt hot and your chest was rising and falling faster than normal.

His gentle touch was setting all of your nerves on fire, spiraling them into a hot frenzy.

"What if... what if you get a taste without drawing blood?" He asked in a quiet and breathy voice, a smirk tugging at his lips.

You nodded quickly, grasping onto him wherever you could.

With your confirmation, his strong arm wrapped around your back and he lifted you out of the barrel and onto the railing, holding you tightly, before finally pressing a kiss to your lips

. The desperation and passion in the kiss made you melt against him, a satisfied hum escaping your lips. Leon smiled into the kiss, teasingly squeezing your waist, making you giggle.

You gently held his face, the image of the both of you like that from a painting. You pulled away from each other for air, chests heaving, and your lips slightly puffy.

"I want to keep you forever." He muttered, pressing his forehead to yours.

You chuckled breathlessly, playing with the hair at his nape.

"I'm sorry I can't stay. But I belong out there," you nodded your head in the direction of the sea, "and you belong here." You spoke with a soft smile, placing a peck on his lips.

He made a soft displeased noise.

"Here." you untangled an iridescent shell from your hair and placed it into his palm, closing his hand and bringing it to your lips to press a kiss to his knuckles.

"That way, I'm always with you." His expression softened.

"Thank you."

Leon stuck his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small golden anchor charm, one he'd gotten on one of his first raids and kept as a lucky charm.

"Now, I'm always with you, too." He attached it to the lock of hair you'd taken the shell from, pushing a few strands out of your face with a smile.

"Will you promise me something?" Leon asked quietly, stroking his thumb over your cheekbone.

You hummed softly, leaning into his touch.

"Promise me you'll always sing for me."

You smiled softly and pulled him a little closer.

"I promise. I'll only sing for you." You whispered, gently bumping your nose against his, making him smile.

You pulled him for a last kiss, one he happily indulged, before loosening your grip on him.

Letting yourself fall back from the railing, you elegantly dove into the water, Leon's eyes glued to the shimmering scales of your tail.

You blew him a kiss before diving deep into your home with a heavy heart. It was a bittersweet parting, no doubt, but the trinkets you'd exchanged with your lover would ease the ache.

With a sad smile Leon watched you disappear before retreating for the night. The only thing he'd have to explain in the morning was how you'd escaped and where he got the shimmering shell that was pinned to his coat.

When he heard a soft comforting melody that night, he smiled to himself, keeping your gift close to his heart.

From then on, you were never far. Always circling around the Lone Rookie, keeping an eye on not only Leon but his crew.

The kiss of a Siren might not have given Leon the power to command the sea, it did, however, give him the benefit of a hauntingly beautiful complicit that was more than happy to feed on his enemies.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ──🌊── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

I hope you liked it!! (you specifically, @sweets3rial <3)

More Leon -> 💫

《tag list》: @vampkennedy @dmitriene @k-fallingstar @agrerion @leonslittlekennedy @allysunny

Let me know if you'd like to be added to my Leon tag list!!

(Sorry for any typos, it's late :,))

[chibinasuu]

My Jolly Sailor Bold | Straw Hats x Reader

★ requested by @supernatural-hunter1 (see here)

Summary: You found yourself humming an old song from your childhood as you mend the sails of the Thousand Sunny Tags: sfw, platonic straw hats x reader, GN but written with F!Reader in mind, no use of y/n

The Thousand Sunny floated on the open ocean, in near stillness due to the absence of the sails upon its masts.

You sat on the deck, humming a tune as old as time as you deftly thread a needle through the vast fabric draped all around you, sewing shut a large tear down its length.

A run-in with particularly violent weather had caused some damage to the ship, forcing the crew to momentarily stop in the middle of the now-calm waters for emergency repairs. Franky and Usopp were fixing the splintered railing, and Jinbe had just returned from his underwater inspection below the ship to check for leaks in the hull. Meanwhile, the others were clearing up the deck from debris brought over by the storm.

Your fingers danced upon the sail on autopilot – in and out, in and out. It had become your responsibility to mend the sails anytime damage occurred, even though you knew that Robin, with her powers, could do the job in seconds. But whenever the crew was not in a hurry, you found yourself volunteering for the task, finding it enjoyable and even calming.

Your hums slowly turned into song as you recalled the words to the tune, passed on long ago by your mother, and her mother before her, and her mother before her. 

“Come all you pretty fair maids, whoever you may be. 

Who love a jolly sailor that ploughs the raging sea” 

The faint call of the seabirds flying high above complimented your voice, and the slow hammering of your hard-working shipwright provided a steady beat of accompaniment as you continued to softly sing, 

“While up aloft in storm, from me his absence mourn

And firmly pray, arrive the day, he's never more to roam”

Some of the crew members near you had started to notice your somber melodies, hands unwittingly pausing in their tasks as if enchanted by a siren’s voice.

“My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing–”

You abruptly stopped singing as you became aware of the sudden silence that washed over the deck. You looked up to see all of your crewmates watching you intently with fond smiles on their faces. Heat spread to your cheeks in embarrassment at their attention, and you covered your face with the sail you were stitching. 

“Oh, please don’t stop, darling!” Sanji cooed loudly, “Please let me hear your wonderful voice again!”

Brook came over to you and remarked, “What a beautifully haunting song. I’ve never heard it before in all my life – or death! Yo ho ho ho!”

The musician pulled out his violin, trying to replicate the melodies based only on what he heard you sing. You helped him by humming the notes, and with the repetitive nature of the song, it only took an instant for the maestro to pick it up. 

With Brook’s silent encouragement, you joined in the violin’s serenade, singing verse after verse of the song for the small audience.

“There is nothing can console me

But my Jolly Sailor Bold.”

The crew broke out in enthusiastic claps, wolf-whistles, and cheers as the song reached its end. You laughed sheepishly and took a playful bow, before shooing everyone back to their respective chores. 

The catchy song seemed to have wormed its way into your crewmates’ heads, and over the next few days, you caught some of them absentmindedly humming the tune, or singing it with jumbled words as they have yet to memorize the lyrics. 

Your heart warmed whenever you heard the melodies coming from your crewmates’ lips, breathing a new life to the previously half-forgotten song – a piece of your hometown carried over to your new home.

↳ masterlist

[bl3upi3]

A Night to Remember | Monkey D. Luffy

Part 2

Summary: In the midst of a disaster at sea, your crew encounters the Straw Hat Pirates led by Monkey D. Luffy. After initial skepticism, you accept their help, and amidst the chaos, a deep connection forms between you and Luffy. The night brings passion, revealing mutual feelings.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut, p in v unprotected (I'm bad with warnings)

A/N: This is straight out of my imagination. I just watched the live action and am thinking of starting the anime so yes, this work is a messy mix of anything and everything. English is not my first language so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes. I tried not to change Luffy's personality as much as I could. (My requests are open if wanted)

As you and your crew sailed through the unpredictable waters of the Grand Line, the tranquility of the day shattered in an instant. A violent collision rocked the sturdy vessel as it struck an unyielding underwater rock, tearing through the boat's hull with a heart-wrenching screech of rending wood. The impact sent shockwaves of fear rippling through your crew, their faces etched with stark dread as they grasped the gravity of the situation.

Chaos ensued as you scrambled to assess the extent of the damage, your hands slick with seawater as you desperately tried to gauge the severity of the breach. Panic gnawed at your senses, every second feeling like an eternity, and uncertainty hung heavy in the salt-tinged air.

As if orchestrated by the very elements themselves, a thick and disorienting fog descended upon you with an eerie swiftness, obscuring your vision and muffling any sounds beyond the boat. It was as though the elements had conspired to further complicate your dire predicament, isolating your vessel in an unsettling cloak of obscurity.

Your heart pounded within your chest as the realization settled in—the lives of your crew hinged upon your quick thinking and resourcefulness. Yet, amidst the silence of the disaster, a creaking sound pierced the air. You yielded your place to a member of your crew to investigate the source of the noise.

As you strained your eyes to peer through the dense fog, a white boat with a sheep-shaped figurehead slowly materialized before you. Your gaze instinctively rose to the flag fluttering from its mast—a skull-headed emblem adorned with a distinctive straw hat—a flag of pirates.

"Hey there! It looks like you could use some help," a figure standing on the edge of the approaching vessel called out.

"Who are you?" you inquired, squinting in an attempt to discern the identity of the mysterious individual.

"I'm Monkey D. Luffy, the captain of the Straw Hat Pirates! The fog swallowed us up, and we stumbled upon your beleaguered vessel, which doesn't seem to be in the best shape," he cheerfully replied.

You and your crew exchanged glances, unsure of how to react to this unexpected turn of events.

With a cautious tone, you responded, "I appreciate your offer, Monkey D. Luffy, but we can't be too careful out here. We've just suffered a terrible collision, and our ship is badly damaged. How can we trust that your intentions are genuine?"

Luffy grinned widely, his boundless energy seemingly undeterred by your skepticism. "I get it; you're being cautious. That's a good trait to have out here. But you've got my word. We're not here to harm you. We're pirates, yeah, but we're not the bad guys!"

As he spoke, Luffy's crew members began to emerge from the fog, appearing on the deck of their ship one by one. Each of them had a distinct look and demeanor, but there was something about them that suggested they were not the typical ruthless pirates one might encounter.

One of Luffy's crewmates, a man with green hair added, "We're just passing through these waters, and we've had our fair share of adventures. We know what it's like to be in a tight spot. We're offering our help because it's the right thing to do."

You considered their words and looked at your own crew. They were still on edge, but the desperation of your situation was evident. Your ship was taking on water faster than you could bail it out, and the fog showed no signs of dissipating. It was a perilous situation, and you needed all the help you could get.

After a moment of deliberation, you turned back to Luffy and said, "Alright, we'll accept your offer of help. But know this, if there's any treachery or harm intended for my crew, we won't hesitate to defend ourselves."

Luffy's face lit up with excitement "Deal! You won't regret it! We'll get your ship fixed up in no time!"

A wooden plank was placed between the two boats, allowing you and your crew to board the white vessel. Luffy spoke with enthusiasm, "Welcome to the Going Merry," offering his hand for you to shake.

You looked around at his small crew, taking note of each member. However, you didn't shake Luffy's hand just yet. Instead, your gaze settled on his comrades. Luffy followed your gaze and introduced them, "This is Roronoa Zoro," pointing to the green-haired guy who had spoken earlier, "This is Nami, Usopp, and Sanji," revealing the rest of his crew whom you hadn't seen yet.

"I hope you're hungry," the blond-haired Sanji said with a smile, "I've prepared a meal fit for thousands."

As your crew members cautiously stepped onto the Going Merry, they exchanged wary glances, still unsure about this unexpected alliance. But the warm smiles and genuine hospitality displayed by Luffy's crew began to put them at ease, albeit slowly.

You finally shook Luffy's hand, sealing the agreement. "Thank you for coming to our aid, Monkey D. Luffy. We appreciate your help, and we'll do our part to assist as well."

“You can call me Luffy” he smiled

"Thank you, Luffy," you replied with a nod. "I'm y/n, the captain of this crew. We're in your debt."

With introductions made and a mutual understanding established, the two crews set to work. Your crew members, alongside Luffy's crew, began assessing the extent of the damage to your ship, while Luffy himself seemed to be filled with boundless energy as he led the charge, making plans and offering assistance wherever needed.

As the day wore on and repairs were underway, you couldn't help but notice the camaraderie among the Straw Hat Pirates. They worked seamlessly together, each member contributing their unique skills to the task at hand. It was evident that they were a tight-knit crew, bound not just by their captain's leadership but by a genuine sense of friendship.

Nami, the crew's navigator, approached you as you oversaw the repairs. "You're lucky we happened upon you," she said with a sly grin. "The Grand Line can be unforgiving to those who sail it unprepared. But don't worry, with our help, you'll be back on your way in no time."

Usopp, the sharpshooter of the crew, chimed in, "And if you ever run into any trouble out here again, just give us a shout. We've got your back."

Sanji, the crew's cook, began preparing a feast for both crews to enjoy together. The aroma of his cooking filled the air, and your crew members couldn't help but be drawn to the delicious scent. It was a welcome respite from the earlier chaos and fear.

As evening fell, and the repairs to your ship neared completion, you gathered with Luffy and his crew around a makeshift table on the deck of the Going Merry. Plates of food were passed around, and laughter filled the air as stories were shared.

It felt so peaceful and normal—it wasn't often that you found yourself enjoying such casual conversation with strangers.

"So, where are you headed next?" Nami asked as she took a sip from her cup of sake.

You shrugged, briefly glancing at your crewmates before responding, "I haven't made up my mind just yet."

Luffy leaned back in his seat, his signature straw hat tilted low over his eyes. "You know, y/n, the Grand Line is full of adventures waiting to happen. We're always looking for new crewmates and allies. You and your crew seem like good people. Ever thought about joining us on the ultimate adventure?"

Your crew members exchanged surprised glances at Luffy's proposition. It was a tempting offer, to say the least. The idea of joining the Straw Hat Pirates and exploring the Grand Line with them was exhilarating, but you knew you couldn't make such a decision on a whim.

You chuckled, trying to defuse the sudden tension in the air. "Well, Luffy, that's a tempting offer, but we've got our own dreams and goals. Maybe our paths will cross again in the future."

Amid the ongoing dinner festivities, you couldn't help but become engrossed in the lively conversation with Nami. It was a refreshing change to find yourself in the company of another woman after what felt like an eternity. You shared an unspoken connection, a bond that went beyond words, stemming from the shared experience of being the sole females in your respective crews. It was as if you both understood the unique challenges and dynamics that came with that role.

Your discussions with Nami ranged from the practicalities of navigation and mapmaking to the more personal aspects of life at sea. You exchanged stories of your adventures, your dreams, and the occasional frustrations that came with your responsibilities. Nami's wisdom and wit resonated with you, and it was clear that you were kindred spirits in many ways.

However, despite your best efforts to focus solely on your conversation with Nami, you felt a steady gaze on the side of your face—Luffy's eyes never left you. He remained leaned back in his chair, contentedly eating and drinking, seemingly absorbed in your every word.

The dinner eventually came to an end, and the crew members of both vessels retreated to their respective quarters for some much-needed rest. You returned to your boat, grateful for the repairs and hospitality of the Straw Hat Pirates.

As you lay in your cabin, trying to find sleep amidst the creaking of the ship and the gentle rocking of the waves, you couldn't help but think about Luffy's offer. The allure of joining his crew and embarking on the ultimate adventure was tantalizing, but your responsibilities as a captain weighed heavily on your mind.

Unable to sleep, you decided to take a walk on the deck of your ship to clear your thoughts. The night was calm, the stars glittering above, and the moon casting a silvery glow over the water.

After your contemplative walk on the deck, you noticed a faint light coming from one of the rooms on Luffy's ship, the Going Merry.

Curiosity got the better of you, and you decided to investigate. The door to the room was slightly ajar, and you could see a warm glow emanating from within.

As you entered the room, you were met with an unexpected sight. Luffy was sitting there,his face illuminated by the soft glow of the lamp atop his desk. His head was resting against the table as he continued to write something down on his notepad.

You cleared your throat, breaking the silence that had engulfed the room

Luffy looked up, his wide grin returning as he noticed your presence. "Hey there, y/n," he greeted, his tone friendly and inviting. "Couldn't sleep either, huh?"

You nodded, stepping further into the room. "Yeah, I wanted to thank you for everything you did today”

Luffy gestured for you to take a seat opposite him, and you obliged, settling into a chair. The room was cozy, filled with maps, navigational tools, and scattered notes that attested to the adventures this crew had undertaken.

"No need to thank me," Luffy said with a shrug. "Helping out is what we do. Besides, it's been fun having your crew around." He then dropped his voice into a whisper having a more serious tone “I appreciated having you around,  y/n."

As you stared into his eyes, you noticed  something in his expression that caught you off guard. His eyes… they were different. In a way, they were filled with longing and desire. 

"Luffy…" you muttered softly, unable to tear your gaze away from the intensity of his eyes. "What's going on? Why are you looking at me that way?"

Luffy sighed deeply getting up of his chair, he walked over to the small window in the room, gazing out at the starry night. For a moment, he seemed lost in thought, as if contemplating how to put his feelings into words. Then, he turned back to face you, his usual carefree demeanor giving way to a more serious expression.

"Y/n," he began, "I don't know how to say this the right way, but I can't help how I feel. Ever since we met today, there's been something about you that's drawn me in. I've traveled to countless islands, faced dangerous foes, and encountered all sorts of people, but meeting you felt different. It's like... like I've found something I didn't even know I was searching for."

His confession left you breathless, your heart racing in your chest. This revelation took you by surprise, especially considering it came so soon after your initial meeting. 

You, too, stood up and approached him, "Luffy," you began, your voice soft but filled with warmth, "I can't deny that there's something special about you. But we both know we will never see each other again”

Luffy nodded, his gaze unwavering. "I know that, y/n. But I've always followed my heart, and my heart tells me that you're special. I don't want to let this opportunity slip away without trying." 

As he leaned closer, his eyes locked onto yours,  his hand reaching forward to cradle your cheek in his palm. Your breathing grew shallow, your pulse quickening, as he brought his lips closer to yours.

Before you knew it, his lips were gently pressing against yours, sending tingles throughout your entire body.  A feeling of euphoria overcame you, and your eyes widened as you realized that what you'd felt was real. The kiss lasted longer than you expected, and when you finally pulled back, your heart was pounding so hard inside your chest.

Luffy smiled brightly, "This was a first time for me, y'know?"  

A blush spread across your cheeks as you laughed lightly in response. "Well, then don't stop" you whispered.

He instently crashed his lips on yours again, this time angrier and hungrier. His hands wandered from your waist to your hips, pulling you impossibly close to him until you felt as if you were melting in his embrace. His kiss deepened,  his tongue dancing with yours as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

There's no need to hold back now, you told yourself. You felt his warm hands caressing your skin, making heat pool between your thighs.

Your hand instinctively reached to remove his hat, but he stopped you, his hand gently grasping your wrist. He paused to look into your eyes for a few heartbeats before releasing you and carefully placing his hat atop your head.

As Luffy's hat settled atop your head, you couldn't help but feel a rush of emotions. It was a symbol of trust, a connection that transcended words, and a promise of something more. You gazed into Luffy's eyes  again, still flushed red with passion and arousal.

"Can I be honest with you?" you asked, your hands still resting on his shoulders.

Luffy hesitated for a second before giving a quick nod in return. "Of course", he replied.

You leaned in, brushing your lips against his again " You're a good kisser" you whispered against his lips. 

His lips curled into a slight smirk as he responded "Thanks".You closed your eyes as his lips trailed down to your jawline, leaving soft kisses along the way. His lips traced down your neck, slowly kissing your collarbone.  Your breathing increased, your mind becoming clouded with lust and desire. As your fingers ran through his hair, you felt him smile against your skin. Luffy's warm breath brushed against your ear as he spoke. "Do you want to have sex?" he asked.

His question surprised you, your mind taking a couple seconds to process the request. After all, this wasn't something you usually discussed with anyone. "Umm, I'm sorry. What?" you stuttered.

Luffy chuckled "Don't worry. There's nothing wrong with saying no if you don't want to."

You shook your head in disbelief. “It’s just…” you began, a frown forming on your face as you tried to gather your thoughts. “Are you sure? Do you really want to?” you asked quietly.

Luffy's smile grew wider as he leaned in, bringing his face closer to yours once again. “Yes, I'm sure.”

Your eyes darted to his lips, which were inches away from your own, hesitating for a moment before you moved forward. With your lips barely touching his, you whispered "Then yes..." 

Luffy grinned as he kissed you, his hands slid from your waist to behind your thighs, lifting you off the ground as your legs encircled around his waist. His mouth moved hungrily against yours as he got to his knees, the wood  creaking beneath his weight causing you to moan when you felt his hardness press against you through his pants. 

Your breath hitched in your throat when he began to move his hips slowly, eliciting a gasp from you as you pressed your pelvis against his crotch, feeling his erection harden in response. You moaned louder as you felt him grind his hips forward.

"You'll have to be quiet, everyone's asleep downstairs" Luffy whispered into your ear, moving one of his hands to cup your breast. 

The sound of his voice sent shivers down your spine, your body heating up as his hand moved to the hem of your shirt, removing it and throwing it to the side. You hurried to undo the buttons on his vest, letting it fall to the floor with yours. 

You slide off of him, your heart skipped a beat when he reached down and started unbuttoning his trousers,  pulling them off and tossing them aside. Your gaze drifted lower, noticing his bulge pushing against his black boxers. When you heard him groan, you glanced up at him, seeing his eyes darken in anticipation.

You took off your shorts and underwear, allowing them to fall to the ground next to his clothes. As you crawled towards him and lowered yourself onto his lap once again, he held you tightly, bringing you so close to him that you could feel his beating heart pulsating against your breasts.

"Oh God!" Luffy gasped, his teeth grinding together as he gripped you tighter, grinding you against him. You reached between your bodies, slipping your fingers into his boxer briefs, rubbing them lightly against his length. He let out a low grunt, his hips bucking upwards as you continued teasing his shaft with your touch.

You set him free from the cloth that separates you, and positioning his member against your entrance,  you pushed yourself slowly down onto him, feeling him tense as he entered you completely.

He grunted loudly, his hands clutching tightly onto your thighs as he thrust himself into you, the sensation of being filled filling you with joy. 

Luffy leaned forward, capturing your lips once again in another passionate kiss, his tongue tangling into your mouth. His hand traveled downwards, stopping above your clit as he slowly stroked it. As he did so, you moaned softly into his mouth, your whole body shaking.

"Fuck! Y/n," he gritted out.

"I thought you told me we had to be quiet" you teased, your voice breathy.

Luffy smirked as he rolled his eyes, shifting you slightly on top of him to allow you to continue to ride him.  Your hips thrust upward and downward, faster and faster until you reached an orgasm. Luffy placed his hand on your mouth as you rode your high, his face scrunched up in pure pleasure.

The moment passed, and you sat yourself up, looking down at him, "Sorry" you giggled. "I guess I kind of lost track of myself."

He snorted, "You mean lost track of my dick" he joked.

You laughed softly while playfully hitting his arm, "Yeah well, maybe I got carried away... or perhaps a little bit too excited."

Luffy shrugged, "Maybe a bit, but we're not going to talk about those kinds of things right now. We're both naked and horny, remember?"

"Mhmmm" you hummed as you grabbed him and laid on your back, pulling him atop of you . He gently took the hat off you and set it down somewhere to the left of where your discarded clothes lay.  He then proceeded to take control once again, pushing his cock deeper into you. Your breathing grew rapid, your eyes closed as you relished in the feeling.

Luffy began thrusting rapidly within you, his eyes staring deeply into yours. In response, you grasped onto  his back as your nails lightly dug into his skin.  Sweat dripped from your brow, and your legs quickly wrapped around his waist, pulling him ever further into you until there wasn't an inch of room between you two.

Luffy looked down at you as his thrusts slowed, watching as your chest rose and fell rapidly as you panted lightly.

 He gave you one last loving peck on the lips before returning his attention to his own actions. He pulled out slightly only to slam back in just as hard. Your back arched, causing you to moan loudly as he drove deeper into you. He buried his face in your neck, his teeth grazing the delicate flesh as you cried out with ecstasy.

Luffy's movements became frenzied as his climax overtook him, he withdraws himself from you before his semen spilled onto your stomach. A gasped escaped your lips as you felt his seed drip onto you.

The two of you fell silent, your eyes locked on each other, your chests rising and falling as you caught your breaths.

"Fuck, I thought it was your first time" you said between heavy breathes as you took a nearby tissue to clean you off

Luffy smiled, laying  down beside you "It is" he said out of breath looking at you with lustful eyes.

You gave him a soft smile,  your fingers running through his messy locks as he closed his eyes and sighed in content. 

The night, filled with passion and tenderness, eventually yielded to the creeping light of dawn. Gently, you stirred from the warmth of Luffy's embrace, feeling a pang of bittersweet nostalgia as you reluctantly disentangled yourself.

With a sigh, you rose from the ground, limbs still tingling from the shared intimacy of the night before. The room held the faint fragrance of your encounter, a lingering reminder of the passion that had unfolded.

As you dressed and made yourself presentable, you couldn't help but steal glances at Luffy, who lay in peaceful slumber, his straw hat resting next to him.

The first rays of sunlight filtered through the small window, casting a gentle glow on the room.A sign that the time had come to part ways with the Straw Hat Pirates. Though the night had felt like a dream, reality beckoned, and your own ship awaited.

You bent down and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, your heart heavy with unspoken emotions.

As you made your way towards the door, you turned back one last time, taking in the sight of the man who had turned your world upside down in just one night. With a whispered goodbye, you stepped out of the room, leaving behind the memories of an unforgettable encounter.

A/N: Hope you liked it, idk if I should make it a short fic or not. Anyways, don’t hesitate to give other ideas, my requests are open :)

[mannekenpressprints]

Manneken Press at EXPO Chicago 2024

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[twistedwonderlandshenanigans]

Floyd's Only Fear

(Tw: Blood, (mild) gore, sibling angst)

Survival of the fittest. It was all the twins had known since they were little elvers, that ruthlessness was the greatest mercy they could grant themselves. It meant no enemy was left to enact revenge, it meant, theoretically, there was no motive to be had against them.

In theory, it made sense. But real life has all sorts of factors you have to be aware of, and the ocean and it's inhabitants rarely act on logic.

Floyd remembers what Jade was like before they had to learn that lesson the hard way. He looks at his brother now and wonders if the roles had been reversed, if he'd have ended up the same way he did.

They couldn't have been more than five. They had made it back home, the only two surviving elvers of the clutch. He remembered how proud their mother was of the two of them, but their father was rather detached still. They were loud, playful and rambunctious, constantly causing mischief to those who had the (dis)pleasure of meeting them. The only difference between the two of them when they were that young was which side of their face their black strand of hair was, and the shape and colour of their eyes.

Their mother's way of parenting at the time had been very laissez-faire, he understood now, was her balance between becoming too attached to them while also looking after them, two very opposite sides of her mind at war. He didn't blame her for it, at least not now that he was older. She had given them an area she deemed relatively safe to play, as well as an old shipwreck, not far from home.

Most days, he and Jade were fine to play in and amongst the wreckage, practicing their hunting, chasing each other and finding hidey holes to try and scare each other with.

Floyd remembered, neither he nor his brother could stay very quiet at that time, as they'd get too excited and giggle about the new spot they found to hide and wanted to show it to their other half. Even if they tried to stay quiet, usually they were the biggest creatures there, and the wiggles of trying to get deeper into their hiding place would cause disturbances in the water that made their twin find them.

Which was why the day Jade went silent, was the day Floyd learned what fear truly was.

His nightmare always started the same, a memory. He and Jade were excited as always to go play in the shipwreck. The sun was just starting to set, the light filtering through the water dappled red and orange - according to the humans, it was supposed to be a lovely day tomorrow.

Neither of them liked counting. It took away the surprise if you knew when someone was going to come looking for you. Not just that, but they were fast and honestly, waiting around was boring for both of them. Jade was a little smaller than Floyd, so Floyd would give him a five second head start, where Jade would give Floyd a three second head start.

Those five seconds always got Floyd excited, ready to hunt down his brother, tag him and then they could switch. He listened as Jade giggled, disappearing into the shipwreck they knew and loved.

Floyd wouldn't call it cheating, it was just a strategic means to an end if he peeked between his fingers. He knew exactly which way Jade went in, darting over to the hole in the hull of the ship, but freezing as he got to the opening.

The darkness felt...heavier than usual, and at first, Floyd couldn't place why. He felt his entire body go still for the first time in his life, the only thing moving was his hair in the gentle ebb and flow of the water. He could feel something watching him, something farther into the hole. He didn't know what it was. But he knew with certainty it wasn't Jade.

It felt like ages until it finally clicked to him that he couldn't feel Jade's movement, instead, at large intervals he felt water moving from side to side by something bigger than even their parents.

He felt a pit forming in his stomach the longer he looked into the hole. In his nightmares it felt like hours of just staring into the abyss, human clutter in the corners of his vision, but his eyes locked on something else much deeper. In reality, he knew mere seconds had passed. The smell of Jade's blood filling the water and the low growl that emanated from within the hole rattled Floyd to his core, his fear still locking him in place as he just tried to keep breathing properly. As his eyes finally adjusted to just how dark it was, he could see his brother's eyes bulging from the pressure the other mer was putting on his neck, the mers claws digging into his neck while his other hand had torn him open. The mer was licking his fingers clean, seemingly proud of himself before he would lunge at Floyd, and he would wake up.

He had blocked out most of what happened after. From what his father was so proud of boasting about now was the fact Floyd had gone in for the kill. He had lived up to the family name, acted on instinct and did as he was supposed to. His mother told him about how he had pleaded with the two of them to save Jade's life once he brought him home, nearly split in half, an act of brutality done for nothing, only for the other mer to feel powerful. His mother told him that if he hadn't killed the bastard that went after his brother, their father wouldn't have let her save his twin.

It may sound cold, but it wasn't the fact his brother had been harmed so badly that got to Floyd.

When it was just the two of them, Jade was the loud one. He was always talking, always giggling, always trying to scare him with 'boos' and growls and whatever other noise he could make up.

And Floyd would talk, laugh and be noisy in response. He always had. And he had adored it.

It was that unforgiving silence, that moment of uncertainty and terror, when everything in his body was screaming something was wrong, but his mind couldn't tell him what...besides the fact that Jade was quiet.

After Jade recovered, physically from the attack, Floyd remembered trying desperately to make him laugh. He remembered everything he did being met with little more than a small smile. He remembered how pissed off it made him that Jade wouldn't make noise, and at the time, being young as he was, he would do what he needed to warrant the reaction he wanted. He remembered how his brothers cries sounded when he prodded at his stitches, and how his mother ushered him out of the room, no longer trusted to be alone with Jade. Jade ended up being nursed back to health by their grandma, and Floyd spent most of his time with his parents.

By the time they were 12, Jade had become selectively mute. He refused to speak unless spoken to, would often seemingly appear from nowhere, and the only person he could speak directly to was Floyd, and even then, it was rarely above a whisper. Floyd wasn't entirely sure at the time if it was the result of their grandmother's 'training' for Jade or not, but he was old enough then that he finally understood.

Jade didn't want to be known.

He didn't want to be perceived, he didn't want to be the one caught off guard, he didn't want to be made silent by force again, he refused to fail as a Leech. His silence would let him be the predator rather than the prey.

Floyd understood it. He could get it, but it didn't change the fact that it bothered him, the sound that used to fill the space between them still bothered him now that it was gone, that it had been gone for so long. That noise and lack thereof would never be a liable way of knowing where his brother was, if he was even alive, not anymore.

While they still lived underwater, Floyd and Jade had their own methods of silent communication, the same tell tale movement in the water, subtle flicks of their fins, even just in the way they would meet each other's mismatched eyes.

On land it was harder, at least for Jade. Every step made noise, even as he practiced walking carefully, heel to toe, even with the best shoes he could get while at the boot camp, he couldn't be quiet. For Floyd it was reassuring, he didn't have any other way of telling when Jade was nearby, besides maybe smell, but outside of the water, his senses weren't as strong. Jade was still quiet, but Floyd could see behind his practiced mask, the mounting anxiety was getting to Jade as he unwillingly entertained theoreticals that would race through his mind.

Floyd remembered approaching a pensive Jade one evening, before curfew. He had just been looking out over the lake they had near the boot camp, sevens knew what was going through his mind. Floyd only realized just how jumpy Jade really was once he was within Jade's swinging range - only found out because the crack of branches beneath his feet had let Jade know somebody was walking up to him, though he admitted he didn't know who. It was only after Floyd's hand shot up to stop the bleeding from his nose and a dirty look shot at his twin that he saw tears streaming down Jade's face, his own expression changing immediately.

He kept holding his nose, mostly to try and stop the bleeding as he tried to power through the pain - at least underwater, his fist would have been slowed down, but that wasn't the point at the moment.

In that moment, their eyes were locked onto each other. One bleeding red blood for the first time, the other feeling real tears course down his face for the first time. There were no words to be said, not really. Floyd could see that this was not how Jade wanted to live...or could really continue to live, not on land. The hug that followed after the moment of silence was all the reassurance Jade needed to know his brother would help him, tears absorbing into the thin cloth of Floyd's top.

They never talk about what happened that night, but it was from that moment on that Floyd lived louder. From the way he walked to the skills he chose to develop.

He could keep the attention on him against every moray instinct he had, because the louder he lived, the louder Jade could live, even if it meant he had to scream just for Jade to whisper.

Because if Jade could finally live like a whisper, it meant that he was starting to heal...and it meant that if he went quiet, Floyd wouldn't fail him this time.

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This post was inspired by a post I saw a While ago, please tag OP if you know who they are, (they mentioned Floyd's biggest fear being Jade's silence), also yes I'm a fan of EPIC shhhh

HAPPY MERMAY lskdjfhlksjdf