#just torment crew things

[revoleotion]

Can you tell me more about Dawn?

I CAN ALWAYS TELL YOU MORE ABOUT DAWN

(vibrating intensely) pls send more asks if there's anything specific you want to know but...

some basics? Did I ever do this on this blog?

first off, there are two "versions" of Dawn, the original way I wrote him and am playing him in the Pen and Paper... and the version I did for playing him in bg3, lovingly dubbed DNDawn by my DM.

A few facts about OG!Dawn:

he's a Chiss sky-walker who retired (read: lost his connection to the Force) at 17, which is pretty late for a Chiss but still pretty traumatizing. He spent the months leading up to retirement trying to stop the loss of his Sight or at least trying to find a way to be useful in other ways, but he still had to leave eventually

right before that, he met the human sent to the chiss ascendancy (Eli Vanto), which inspired a conversation about a life outside of the ascendancy. Vibes wise, I was going for a parallel of that conversation between Thrawn and Thalias in Chaos Rising!

anyway, Dawn didn't leave immediately after retiring, though. He went to an academy for a few years, where he had a roommate that he suspects might have been a sky-walker too but they never actually talked about it. Her fate is uncertain too but she probably died shortly before graduation. Dawn actually got a degree from that academy, which he never mentions and does not care about in the slightest

once he had his degree, he got a tattoo done (on his back, a star constellation only seen from Csilla), chose the new name Dawn so that lesser space inhabitants can properly address him, and fucked off to meet an Imperial contact Eli gave him

it turned out pretty quickly that Dawn was not Empire material, and he didn't care for it either, but this information is important because it shows that his first contact with the Empire was neutral (+ knowing that Thrawn ended up working with them also helped shape Dawn's opinion of that regime). This opinion changed later, of course, but it's important that he didn't immediately hate the Empire or distrust its members

and this is how he eventually ended up with the torment crew! yey! and that's when the campaign started and....... well. shit happened.

he's also trans (most, if not all, sky-walkers are girls, but he never really vibed with that) and very, very gay.

dawn gets to use a mechanic that i lovingly refer to as the "autism dice" where sometimes my DM makes me roll in conversations with other crew members to see if dawn notices the deeper meaning/sarcasm in other character's words (most of the time I didn't notice it either, and if I fail, he's not explaining it to me either, Dawn & I just have to live with it. rude (jk jk, I agreed to this))

my favorite thing about Dawn is how he views himself as a tool but sometimes (very, VERY rarely, and ESPECIALLY when he's tired/not thinking straight) slips into this mindset of "excuse me, do you know who you are talking to??". no matter how alienated he feels from other chiss, he is one, and maybe those legends about chiss not reacting well to being betrayed are true after all.

since sky-walkers get their memory purged to avoid any unnecessary feelings/homesickness, Dawn does not remember his childhood or family. It also means he has no idea of his original family name. He has a twin sister but will very likely never learn that or meet her. After his service as a sky-walker, he got adopted into the Irizi family, hence his name.

Dawn has very strong feelings about being compared to Thrawn, mostly about the fact that he's a Mitth and how dare people compare him to a Mitth??

the thing I struggled with the most when creating him and playing him in early sessions was his moral alignment. He was pretty much a blank slate, due to the memory purging and being used as a military child weapon most of his life... so this didn't make it any easier. By now, I have his alignment and loyals figured out though! It's more complex than I first expected, and the fun bit is that he is now very torn between wanting to do what's best for the crew and the connection he's feeling towards the guy speaking to him through the sith holocron, mostly because he is grysk (and therefore, from the same region as Dawn AND his mortal enemy but you know what, we can excuse that as long as we get homoeroticism and narrative foils)

dawnkallig. my beloved. i should write another essay on my pnp side blog

ANYWAY this got long. Tell me if I should talk more about the DNDawn version (who shows up in my bg3 fanfics)...... or if you have any more random questions about my boy!

[starry-bi-sky]

Blood Blossom Au: Baby's First Commissioner Meeting :)

TL:DR This Post: Danny (orphan) gets poisoned with blood blossom extract by Vlad. He runs away from him and ends up under the care of one Pre-Robin Battinson Batman! Starry is loudly pushing her batdad agenda.

(Also known as "Late At Night, When The Nightingale Sings" on my ao3!)

This was a fun rough idea I've been sitting on for weeks, thinking about how Commissioner Gordon and Nightingale's first meeting might go.

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

Commissioner Gordon likes to think that he's adjusting to the new normal of Gotham very well, -- the new normal being grown men running around dressed like bats, in military-grade strength body armor, committing acts of vigilantism, -- and slowly, little by little, he was no longer being surprised when this new normal pops up out of the shadows like the world's most terrifying daisy. His shaving lifespan thanks him for it.

....

The kid is a surprise though.

Granted, he seemed to be a surprise to the Bat too.

There's been a string of murders lately, -- which, in Gotham, is kind of like saying there's been another storm during monsoon season. And there's just been another; in some dilapidated building down in south Gotham, with the broken, boarded-up windows and mildew-crawling walls to match. The victim is a man in his thirties, multiple gunshot wounds to the chest, left in the center of the room for the blood to pool out around him.

The place is already secured when he arrives, the building swarmed with officers and the forensic detectives. The Bat emerges shortly after he does -- or, he might've been here the whole time, hiding someplace dark and shadowy. For his own sanity, Gordon doesn't think about it too hard.

The kid is a surprise, and he appears like a bolt of lightning.

He shows up in the middle of a conversation Gordon is having with the Bat.

A whistle, sharp and loud, slicing through the air, meant for open air rather than a confined space. Gordon's ears pierce and protest the sound, and the solemn, murmured chatter floating through the room abruptly cuts off like the swing of a gavel. As he turns towards the sound -- as they all do -- he swears, up and down, that he sees Batman's shoulders jump, just slightly.

At the source, perched on the window, is a boy. A boy in a gray-blue scarf and an oversized black hoodie, one that hangs off his frame and has ace bandages wrapped around the wrists in some attempt to cinch the sleeves. The hood is up, big like the rest of it, and threatens to swallow the upper half of the boy's face whole in the fabric. What upper half Gordon can see, is smeared with some kind of opaque, black face paint. He's holding onto the side of the frame with one hand, on his hip is a grappling hook. A familiar grappling hook.

Gordon has multiple questions, and his officers tense up.

Martinez puffs up, brows furrowing as his face shapes into a frown. Shoulders rolling back. "You can't be here, kid--"

The reaction is immediate, like a spark to gunpowder, the boy yanks his fingers from his mouth and his mouth twists into a scowl. Head snapping over to Officer Martinez, his hood manages to stay on but Gordon swears that as he bares his teeth, the glint makes them look sharper than they should be. His voice is rasp and quiet and harsh; snappish in its hissing; "Put a fuckin sock in it, Martinez. I'm not stayin."

Martinez reels back, and the boy immediately veers his attention off him. Like a switch, his demeanor drops. Despite half his face being covered, his mouth twists into a cringing, apologetic smile. Slanted and off-beat, embarrassed. It'd be disarming if this wasn't Gotham, and if he didn't just hiss at Martinez like he was about to bite his head off.

"Sorry." He whispers, voice deceptively polite and softer now. Gordon has to strain his ears to hear him. "I was looking for him."

He points his finger towards-- Gordon? No, Gordon follows the direction, and finds himself looking at -- the Bat.

The Bat, who always looks stiff as a pole, now looks even stiffer. Somehow. Well, the explains the grappling hook attached to the boy's waist.

"What are you doing here?" The Bat says, gruff and unable to completely smother the stumble of surprise in his tone.

The boy still holds a sheepish smile, and slips off the window ledge. His feet hit the creaky boards with a near-silent thud, the Batman finds his feet and rapidly begins crossing the room.

Gordon notes the slight tremble in the boy's legs as he straightens. He adjusts his scarf, which droops close to his knees now that he's standing, and slings a backpack -- how long has had that? -- off his shoulders. When the Bat reaches his side, he does as he always does, and looms over the boy like a spectre. A threatening mass of shadows cloaked in all-consuming black. Standing next to him, the boy looks teeny in comparison.

The Bat is a man who terrifies even the most hardened criminals, Gordon has seen grown men shiver in fear at the mention of his name. And yet when the boy looks up at him, he doesn't even flinch.

Instead, his sheepish smile melts away like ice under the sun, holding only traces of his previous embarrassment. It remains as a shadow on his face, a small upturn at the corners of his mouth. The boy pushes his hood back just enough to reveal glinting, ice-flint eyes surrounded in tar-black face paint. He holds the backpack up with one arm. "You forgot this."

[br1ghtestlight]

the ii neg tumblr blog is like my actual personal #1 enemy i cant BELIEVE they followed me over a joke ask i responded to over a year ago (i blocked them and have blocked every account they've remade lmao) just such hateful bullshit looking for ANY excuse to attack this random youtube webseries and the ppl who work on it including MANY STATEMENTS that are just straight up not true. someone could send them an ask like "hey justin is actually homophobic and called me slurs irl i hope they all die in a car crash <3" and they will post it without any questions. no further research cuz it isnt about what's true or actually offering constructive criticism on the writing of the show it's about being hateful and cruel and spreading lies & death threats. some actual famous people dont have accounts as dedicated to attacking them and every aspect of their identity and career as these random ass guys who make a YOUTUBE WEBSERIES do like why are you actively wishing death upon them?? are you insane?

IF YOU DONT LIKE THE SHOW THEN STOP WATCHING IT. DONT ENGAGE? like do you seriously have fucking nothing better to do than spread lies online about literal nobodies with the smallest amount of online influence. for reasons i cannot even fathom. be so fucking serious

[aemiron-main]

Currently going insane over the fact that a.) Victor is labelled as “Corporal” in the ST playbook, despite introducing himself to Mr. Newby as “Sergeant”-

-and b.) the fact that Adams and Hicks from the Eldridge crew were both listed as “corporal” by the actors despite Adams’ actor previously having listed him as “sargent”:

Which is especially interesting considering this bit from the ST4 Papa script re: “Sergeant Hicks”:

(and of course, Sgt. Hicks is involved in raiding the NINA bunker, hellooo TFS NINA weirdness!!!! also staring at this vs TFS Brenner Jr yelling at Henry about “any hick with a buck knife,” plus “Hickman Hill,” in the Elvis Cloned by Aliens Weekly Watcher article, PLUS the article from the end of ST1 talking about State Attorney Thomas E. Hickman (hello “E” as in (Edward”…) )

And I’m also staring at all of that/all of the weird Hicks vs Hickman vs Hickman Hill and the Hickman Hill alien ship stuff vs a.) the way that both Victor and Hicks get their officer title changed vs how Victor’s uses alien movie-esque language in the foyer (talking about how “they’re here,” and he’s NOT referring to Henry and Patty, instead, the identity of the “they” that Victor is referring to is unclear, and gets wrapped into his WW2 flashbacks/he then talks about being able to smell the smoke from “their” bodies, so weirdly enough, the victims of Victor’s WW2 bombing misfire are getting paralleled to aliens)

(especially with the fact that in-show Victor’s casting auditions were done by having the actors read from the script for the movie “Signs,” which is an alien movie)

b.) the way that Brenner Jr talks about making a connecting/making the connection & how that also has very similar alien movie-esque vibes re: “making contact”/“making a connection” with aliens

And c.) the Eldridge being a ship vs the spaceship supposedly seen above Hickman Hill vs Hicks being a sailor on the Eldridge.

But anyway, what the hell is going on with the weird mismatched WW2 officer titles??? Especially considering what I talked about wayyyy back re: Victor in Normandy on D-Day versus D-Day’s huge communication & chain of command problems & how that resulted in soldiers doing the duties of ranks they werent supposed to be doing/basically accidentally rising in the ranks… Versus TFS Victor introducing himself as being a rank above his “actual” (according to the play book, at least) rank, as Sergeants are ranked above Corporals.

And all of this gets extra interesting with the fact that there’s a direct reference to Welcome to Marwen (the movie from the ST4 board where a guy pretends to be a WW2 captain to cope with trauma & creates a whole fake little town as part of it hellloo hawkins esp with ‘welcome to marwen’ vs ‘welcome to hawkins’) during the scene where Mr. Newby and Victor meet for the first time… hahaha what the hell is going on???

Especially re: the parallel between Victor’s “corporal vs sergeant” stuff vs the Eldridge crew’s “corporal vs sergeant” stuff versus the Eldridge crew & Captain Brenner also having references to Welcome to Marwen…

[cutter-kirby]

i'm surprised i haven't seen anyone point this out yet, but.... belos isn't dead. like. sure he got stomped on. but also a few months earlier he crashed into a wall with more than enough force to crack it, shattering his entire physical form, and came back from a few drops that hit hunter's shoulder. he possessed the titan with the smallest sliver of slime that escaped raine's magic. that fucker's not dead. and before you say he got melted... the rain stopped. king said some was on his claw. we've seen belos regenerate from less. he's not dead. and i don't think he'll be dying anytime soon. not if he has anything to say about it. just a thought.

[tetzoro]

˖˙ ꔫ — TETHERED TOGETHER ˚

꒰ synopsis ꒱ : finally having a moment alone, the surgeon of death shows you how much you bring him back to life.

꒰ contents ꒱ : MDNI. trafalgar law x reader ; lots of praise, law talks you through it, brief mutual masturbation, unprotected sex, slight overstimulation, creampie. not beta’d sorry. — WC : 2.1k

behind closed doors, the captain of the heart pirates bares all to you. in the room he feels safest in, he all but takes the beating muscle out of his chest and delivers it to the palm of your hands. never in his life had he trusted someone so much, so thoroughly. loving you was the thing he treasured most in the world, but worshiping you was a close second.

how could he not when you’re his biggest supporter, the one that gives him motivation to keep going. he has his hopes and dreams, yes, but they would all be worthless if you weren’t by his side to celebrate the wins together.

alone time is always rare for you guys, especially with law constantly tending to the crew and mapping out plans for future endeavors. but when he finally gets you all to himself, he absolutely fucking savors it.

one inked hand loosely wraps around your neck, just enough to pull you in closer as his mouth smothers yours. pouring all of his emotion into the kiss, law leaves you breathless and starry eyed.

teasingly, his fingers run along the cloth of your bra, moving up to the straps but making no move to remove it. slightly annoyed, you pull back, chest heaving from the passionate kiss.

“take it off.” you mewl, squirming to try and get him to hurry up. his fingers ghost along the bands of your bra, gently snapping it back against your skin before retreating.

“take it off yourself.” his steely eyes light up in amusement as he watches you writhe beneath him. without hesitation, you reach behind you and unsnap the pesky undergarment, haphazardly tossing it to the side where it hits the ground with a soft thud. “there you are.”

slowly, his hands cup your breasts, thumb brushing along your pert bud. law leans in, taking one in his mouth, nearly suckling as his tongue caresses the sensitive flesh. twisting, pinching at your poor nipples in a way that’s almost tormenting — for him. the inexplicable ache to be with you shoots down his spine, filling him with a sense of longing that won’t be satiated until he’s inside of you.

ignoring your pleas for more, he kisses down along your stomach, eager fingers moving to the hem of your lacy underwear — the kind that always caused his brain to fly into a frenzy. running his knuckle along your covered entrance, he can feel your damp desire before he hooks his fingers in the fabric and drags it off, tossing it somewhere near the rest of your shared clothes.

sitting back on his haunches, law’s hands pry your legs open, tattooed fingers digging into the plush of your thigh. the intensity of his gaze only makes you shrink deeper into the mattress. 

“touch yourself.” his voice was stern but soft, a command birthed from pure curiosity. he’s seen you do it before, has made you fuck yourself on your fingers for him more times than you can count — but only when the two of you had time to take it slow. and it had been awhile.

so you listen, your finger teases your glistening slit, feeling the essence pool around it before slipping the digit into the silken walls of your cunt. a small whine escapes you as you keep pushing as far as you can go.

“that’s it.” his hand goes around the base of his cock, giving it a squeeze before his closed palm travels up his length, thumb smoothing over its head and spreading the pretty pearl of precum along his tip. “keep going, doing so well for me already.”

a small whine curdles in your throat, the praise only electrifying the pleasure. but it wasn’t enough, your fingers couldn’t compare anymore ever since they had a taste of his. the soft spot inside of you was just out of touch and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t reach it.

law ceases his own ministrations and creeps closer, hovering over you to get a better look at the frustrated tears welling in your doe eyes. how could someone just look so cute?

“i want you.” you pitifully confess, slipping your drenched fingers out of your cunt, reaching out for his hip. “need you.”

“you’ve got me.” law’s voice was low, gravely, as he rolled his hips into your core. his everhardening desire evident as it presses down against your warmth. “you’ve got all of me.”

“law, come on —“ you can hardly move from where he has you pinned, no longer able to seek out friction until he deems you ready to find it.

“you going to take it all?” his tip catches against your entrance, your body desperately trying to suck him in, prove that you can handle it. “take every little thing i give you?”

there was nothing little about him, but you bite the comment back as the tip barely pushes into you before retracting. the subtle tease leaves your body yearning for more, a blazing heat licking at your abdomen as you clench around nothing.

“yes, please.” the last half of your plea was nothing but a breath of air as his cock finally started to sink into you, the sizable girth stretching you out inch by inch.

“that’s it, baby.” law coos, eyes trained on your face as he slides into you. “just like that.”

everything law ever does is precise, calculating. that’s no different now as he starts to rock into you, watching you struggle to take his length. after a few measured strokes, he bottoms out, the two of you gasping out for each other.

“s’full.” your words slur together as your brain is too busy processing the intense, burning pressure between your legs. the kind that you’ve been wanting for days, only getting a taste of it here and there when the timing was right. but it had been so long since you guys could melt into each other and take your time.

law was almost tempted not to move at all, the sensation of your warm walls enveloping him, fluttering around his thick cock felt too hard to pull out of — even for a moment. 

but the way you were looking at him, eyes blown wide with lust, had him slowly rearing his hips back. his eyes flit down to where the two of you connected, your essence coating his cock in a light sheen of arousal.

“ready for me?” as soon as you give the nod, he’s plunging back into you, hands moving to grip your hips. the deep and steady pace he starts to set has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, back arching up into him. you hear him lightly tsk. “eyes on me.”

the command he issues out pulls on a thread, leaving you no choice but to follow it. getting lost in his irises, his unwavering devotion is so intense you can hardly look away from him now, transfixed on the ravenous hunger that swims in the obsidian depths. 

law lets out a soft coo at your obedience, rewarding you with the quickening of his pace. with each powerfully strong, tenderly harsh stroke, he’s diving deeper into you. hips snapping against your skin as he carves his length into you, molding it to fit him and him alone.

“wrap your leg around me, fuck, there we go.” you didn’t have to do anything, law’s inked hand slides from your hip to the side of your thigh, hoisting your leg around him until your ankles are digging into the slender curve of his lower back. the new angle shifts and you swear you can feel him everywhere, rewiring the synapses of your brain to only communicate his name. “god, you feel so fucking good, squeezin’ me so tight.” 

“touch me —” you manage to choke out, the air from your lungs being punched out with the force of his thrusts. like a good boy, he does as he’s told. his fingers dance along your clit, thumbing it in tune to the steady pace he set.

the reaction was instantaneous, your body molding towards his, hips practically raised up from the mattress as you preen with pleasure. the melody of whines and moans that flow past your lips play over and over again in his mind.

“keep making those sounds for me.” his voice was dangerously low, words blending together and forming a growl. “love it when you sing for me, pretty.”

the precipice of your release was on the horizon, barely out of reach but steadily hurtling towards the end. your thighs shake, trembling under him as he keeps you pinned down on the mattress, watching your body lose control as it becomes oversaturated with pleasure.

law lets it overcome you, weave into your nerves and set them alight, eyes trained on your face as it washes over you in pure bliss. your lips form into the shape of his name as it rolls off your sweet tongue, a cry wringing out from deep within.

and he’s never been so entranced.

“now, that’s a pretty sight.” he murmurs, hips stuttering for a moment as he loses his rhythm, adam’s apple bobbing as he tries to contain himself. “do it again for me, yeah?”

law kisses you once more as he fucks into you, but it’s different than before. the emotion he ever so carefully poured into you morphs into a carnal hunger to devour you, chasing his release. your nails dig crescent moons into his shoulders and he lets out a guttural groan in your eagerly awaiting, hot mouth. 

but then you try to pull away, hands quickly sliding down his body, pushing against his abdomen and whining the words, “s’much, too much”. 

“nuh uh, don’t go running off. you said you’d take it for me. don’t tell me you were lying?” his hand grabs a hold of your wrists, pinning them over your head.

“‘m not! i wasn’t.” you gasp, ceasing your movements and letting him have his way with you. he’d always take care of you, never truly pushing you past your limits. law knew you could take it so you will. “i-i can take it.”

the last of his restraint snaps. the once cool and calculating man turns into a mindless mush, his brain growing hazier as he descends into the madness of his purest desires. 

dropping your wrists and sliding your legs over his shoulders, he enters a state of delirium. all he can feel is the way you greedily suck him in, whines and whimpers filling his ears as he repeatedly pounds into you.

“can’t!” you cry out, head tossed back into the cloudlike pillows. 

“yes, you can.” law rasps out, barely having enough strength to speak. but he knows just what to give you to drive you over that edge again. “come on, let’s do it together.”

his fingers grip your thighs, fully fusing your body with his. changing the angle so one hand can slide between your legs, thumbing at your overstimulated clit. innate arousal pools in his abdomen, his balls screaming for relief as you let out the final sign of your impending climax — a single tear flowing down your cheek.

“i’m—!” the rest of your sentence gives out as your body thrums with a fervent euphoria, your skin buzzing as your climax washes over you and turning your vision white.

with one last, sharp buck of his hips, law buries himself to the hilt, lightly kissing your cervix as the winded coil deep in his gut explodes. his body shakes as he spills his seed, filling you up with everything he has to give you. momentarily lost in a haze of ecstasy as he shallowly humps against you, groaning your name as you clench around him and squeeze him for all he’s worth. 

the world slowly comes back into focus and for a few seconds, no one moves; no one speaks. the sounds of law broken panting curls around your ear, no doubt mixing with your own. his sticky chest presses against yours, two hearts tethered together by the act of unyielding love, beating in a perfect harmony.

“you’re incredible.” the words softly flow out in a single breath as he presses his lips against the side of your head. law carefully shifts his jittery body to the side so it’s not weighing on you fully, but just enough to still feel connected — comfortable. “absolutely made for me.”

the moans and groans of the polar tangs infrastructure melt into the background as you focus on his breathing. the steady rise and fall of his chest soothes you like no other, your finger lazily tracing over the ink covered skin, idly mapping it out for the thousandth time. 

no words needed to be said, at least for now as the look he gives you says it all. 

i love you.

thank you for reading ! reblogs + comments are much appreciated ෆ

[mykaelaaa]

quit it

✰se-mi x fem!reader / ~3k

✰deciding to pair up with se-mi unaware what you're getting into

✰warnings: blood, suggestive, +18

"do you trust that guy?"

leaning on the comically big bunk bed far enough from the loud crowd, you stared at the plastic pig hanging in the air. filled with money, presumably real money.

maybe if you get everybody to climb on each other and take that thing down you could get out of this shithole you regret agreeing to.

some guy went on rambling about how he's been here before and you're too caught up in your thoughts to hear what he has to say.

what's his number? 456?

maybe you should spare him a chance. judging by the way he helped out. but maybe he's also full of shit, just like the rest of people here. you saw the field full of bodies and blood. if anything, he's a good entertainer judging by the green and greedy crowd he gathered around for the second time.

too lost to hear, but not to feel someone giving you a punch in the shoulder. quite a strong one. here we go, you thought. bribes, violence, torment, bed and food exchange just like in those world ending movies. 

not having any partners in crime or knowing what any of these people are like you have to be wary. it's all about the money as the end goal for over 300 people here, which is a scary thought. 

with annoyance and half-baked comeback, you turned your attention to whatever smartass that spawned next to you.

let's just say they sure did not disappoint. looks wise, of course.

but it's not time or place for that right now. right? besides, you saw a couple of sparks early on between players but surely surfaced level ones. the type formed in the span of one day of being here is not that romantic. more like a good distraction. but you can't blame them, maybe the next game is their last one so why not go out with a good makeout or something?

"what?"

"i asked you something." the girl spoke confidently, holding a strong gaze over you for some reason. she had her arms crossed, mimicking your pose on the opposite frame while you were gripped by uncertainty, she seemed more carefree and unbothered. it was almost reassuring, somehow. 

you felt exposed and this time not by the debts unpaid and calls from the bank but whoever was in front of you.

with hard to miss piercings, silver rings that slipped passed the guards somehow and a discreet grin escaping her collected persona left the reply hanging in the air and led you to stare for longer than you should have.

you don't even know her but a recent memory surfaced. that thanos guy being rejected by her and making a fuss about it in front of everybody. you never even heard of him before. one hit wonder probably.

"oh, yeah. sorry, i was just thinking i guess," you muttered, rubbing your temple with a sigh.

"about?"

"nothing important," you replied flatly, regretting how it came off as.

"right, right. no biggie, thinking about if you'll be alive in the next 2 hours. a daily routine," she said in a sarcastic tone, causing you to roll your eyes. 

the presence next to you made you somehow feel smaller than the weight of bunk beds and entire room already did.

"do you need something?" you dragged the question out, looking down at the wrinkled fabric of the number trapped between her folded arms, "380?"

"se-mi," she tucked her head to the side and half smiled, still done in nonchalant manner. "and yeah, actually. wanna pair up?" 

you stared at her. if whatever this is goes right, and you're not being manipulated by a pretty figure facing you, although you don't mind at all, you must track down where this cocky confidence comes from. if it's normal and "i used to be in the army" story and not "i was a hitman" you will keep her close.

"aren't you with those guys?" you nodded your head towards the obvious purple hair guy and his crew amongst the mass. 

"that self proclaimed rapper? nah, i don't really swing that way," she played with her lip piercing before shifting her attention towards you once again.

"oh, you don't really swing that way? or did i get that wrong?"    she chuckled at your teasing tone and raised brows, "well, what can i say. it's kinda obvious. at least i hope so."

you squinted, amused and engaged. everything about her look screams the already mentioned but why not toy around more when there's nothing to lose. "obvious, huh? sure, whatever helps you sleep at night se-mi."

se-mi shrugged, took a quick glance as if someone's around. "i think i'm pretty clear about it. but since you're not convinced…" she leaned in slightly, dropping her voice just enough for only you to hear. 

"stick around and i'll prove it."

your stomach did the weird thing, the one you wouldn't let her—or anyone know about.

fixing your weight against the metal bed frame, you scoffed. "right. because this place is swarming with opportunities to show off."

grinning, she pushed off the frame and cut the distance between you to down to a cruel and agonizing one. strands of her hair naturally fell over her eyes but it did not do a good a job hiding the intimidating gaze. crowd blended into silence and you could not pick whether to blame yourself for being so weak in the matter of seconds or her for playing dumb games.

you're were not that easy to impress just a week ago.

so she spoke, lip ring somehow reflecting off the dim lighting this chamber has.

"i'm pretty good at getting what i want."

you bit back a nervous laugh, trying not to let her and this proximity overcome you. "and what is it that you want?"

your desperate attempt to sound civilized and composed was shitty, and se-mi read easily through it.

"say yes and you'll see."

her eyes flicked to yours, lingering just long enough to make you feel like you lost the high ground. then swiftly she stepped back, taking all the tension with her. finally you could let out a breath you held unaware.

but before you could respond, a voice tear through the room.

"players, prepare for the next game. you have 30 minutes."

the announcement sent a wave through the busy crowd. voices hushed, movements quickened and panic was apparent. your chest tightened, probably the worst thing about this is not knowing what's next. if you ever get out, announcement lady is on the top of the list.

se-mi looked at the speaker in the corner. you wanted to ask her what's on her mind but devil works faster.

"time's running out, sweetheart. hope you're skilled with decision making."

"and if i say no?" you knew damn well that's not an option.

se-mi slipped her hands into her pockets, cocked her head to the side with that damn grin. slow on her feet she walked backwards, leaving you more and more with each step and it stinged.

"loss for both of us. and my bed is that way, by the way."

you watched her disappear in the crowd that rushed on the steps and just as quickly you were surrounded too. maybe, just maybe this is more challenging than the money winning itself.

✰

the game already morphed into a hazy fever dream of adrenaline and blood. it was oddly silent, compared to just a few hours ago when the main floor was brimming with "life". or better, those alive. now everyone that came back scattered around the room.

you weren't sure who's blood was blending with your shoes or who's splatter stained your jacket.

and neither was se-mi. however, she didn't seem shaken up, as per usual.

she followed you close behind, making a beeline towards the bathroom. the air inside felt much colder than the outside and the contact with the freezing sink proved it. in the mirror you caught a sight of se-mi leaning against the tiles, bloodied but stoic.

top to bottom, covered in blood with a cut on her face that she smudged further. she ran her hand through the hair in attempt to fix it, stretching her neck in the process.

quiet whimpers escaped past her lips. she unzipped her jacket, looked at the mess made. floor. room. and back at you again. 

you admit you did look at her like a man starved. just blame it on the adrenaline. it's easier that way.

she clicked her tongue in fake disapproval, "no manners."

what a jerk.

"you're all bloody." you stated, hands working faster than your mind, already reaching for the paper.

"really?" she pretended to be puzzled. it made you sigh. "let's go in the stall."

"you don't—i can do it too, you know," now she felt slightly bad for making you more worried than you already are.  

she sat down on the toilet with a loud thump, no protests or fight. her muscles aching but you were no better. you closed the door behind you, this place making you more paranoid than ever. borrowing a second of your shared free time to look at the piece of work across you.

with each second passing you realized this silence, comfort and unspoken longing became a luxury here. se-mi took a note of it too.

deep inside she blames the gods for meeting a pretty girl in a state like this, desperate for money, careless about debts, bloody and tired in this awful bathroom. you're no better though. and it made her feel a bit better.    "what? do i look that bad?"

you snorted, shook your head no. slightly kneeled, you took the wet paper you gathered in one hand while holding the back of hear head with another. leaning in, you observed the cut on her face. a knife? no, unless someone smuggled it. you didn't see her in fight either.

a lack of self control let loose and your finger delicately ran across her cheek. blame it on just wanting to see how bad it hurts but she was no fool.

entire time she maintained eye contact. this is the closest she ever was. it's a funny thing to notice, she's not that hopeless. not in a outside world. actually, she doesn't wanna remember. 

your hand was cold but it felt right. the stall seemed to shrink with you in front of her. 

se-mi swore she could smell your perfume that still withstand these conditions. must be an expensive one. that's fine, 45.6 billion will cover it.

"you're shaking," her voice dropped and she teased. turning her head to the side, bemused.

"oh," you backed away lightly. "apologies. wasn't aware you graduated in body language." se-mi enjoyed this too much.

you took a deep breath and continued clearing her face. terrible at avoiding her gaze. "are you a hitman or something?" you started, truly curious.

"guessed it on the first try."    "sooo you're not? good."

"i'd definitely make everybody pay me big if i was and wouldn't end up here. why?" 

of course the smartass answer. 

"just wondering how the hell nothing about this seems to bother you. people dying, not knowing who's next, guards just headshoting everybody…" you carefully moved her face to the side, causing her to shudder shyly. 

"it was at first but there's a prize at the end. i think it's worth it. at least to get to the half of it. that was before i—whatever."

"yeah?" she watched you change positions and kneel down, all done with an innocent look boring through her. she doesn't know if it's on purpose or you're tired.

someone entered the bathroom and se-mi cursed them internally for distracting you but it also gave her spare time to stare. 

swallowing harshly, se-mi did not let her mind flatter now.

doors closed. losing the advantage she convinced herself she has, with a heavy sigh and a fuck it, she looked away and closed her eyes. "we're paired up now. so…yeah. i guess i kinda have things to lose."

feeling your movements halt, se-mi opened her eyes. maybe that was too far. 

"yeah, i-uh. same here." 

you felt her eyes boring holes as you sloppily cleaned up the papers and threw them away, feeling your body burning. 

everything about this was shitty. games, people, loneliness, food, voting. everything except this. yeah, she might look a little beat up with tired bags under her eyes but it was hopeful.

your shadow fell over her. the height difference meant nothing right now. neither of you moved. things unspoken seemed so, so obvious to both of you it was suffocating. she just hopes you don't treat this as a distraction.

"i—" se-mi did not let you finish. instead she got up with a newfound boldness, licked her lips and pondered. making you wonder what else is playing in her mind.

"thank you." it was sincere, raw. she took barely half a step closer in this cramped stall with dozen of obstacles around. you could feel the heat rising and hell if you weren't red yourself. 

"you know, you also got blood on your face." 

"do i?" not really, you checked yourself in the mirror. no?

"mhm," she confirmed and you almost missed it. again, se-mi closed the distance further. raised her hand to wipe the "blood" suspiciously close to your lips.

no, you definitely didn't have it.

"there." she barely smiled and your breath hitched. she picked up on it.

you felt drunk looking down at her lips. and you know what? you might die tomorrow for all you know.

"oh fuck you." 

it sounded and felt desperate, muffled by the four walls; the way you pulled her by the jacket and kissed her. metallic taste absorbing you whole and the chapped lips mixed with her metallic piercing. you're done for. 

se-mi smirked proudly against your lips, like her plan finally worked. too busy for good to answer her antics but enough to crush one of her plans which was her hungry grip around your waist. so she caged you with her arms around between the door and her body as you kept pulling her back in. no need because she already made up her mind she's not leaving anytime soon.

you traced your hands under her unzipped jacket that made her gasp. still feeling like she keeps her cool persona intact even now.

you took it as a chance to put your tongue to use. you weren't so experienced per se but it's natural talent. her on the other hand…

both of breaths blended into one and it felt hot, almost wrong. making you weak in your legs, forcing you to find a support behind her head. intertwining your fingers together, drawing her even further if possible clearly left no more gap present.

your bodies connected fully, se-mi was so lost yet too aware of everything you did. your touch was setting her on fire everywhere at once, teeth bumping in rush, small noises you made and she doesn't recall last time she took a full breath.

out of nowhere you felt a knee pressing between your legs, making you to throw your head back harshly and let out a moan that se-mi had to cut short. unfortunately.

there was too much going for the door to handle and keep it low-key.

"come here, you're too loud." se-mi whispered, catching up her breath as she sat back down again. 

"and that's my fault?" you regret saying that because you weren't sure if she even understood you.

gasping and impatient was the sight of se-mi, lazily sprawled and hair messy. a genuine thought of staying here until guards have to break down the doors sounded pleasing.

each leg on her side, her hands instantly wrapped around you and lips chased for more. she's just as hopeless as you in the end. your body flinched upon feeling her hands sneak under your shirt. making a tour, stopping at your waistband. it was attentive, studying your reactions carefully, less in rush now. she was in control.

se-mi left your lips for a while, kissing path down your jaw to focus on your neck. she's glad you can't read minds.

your hand found hers buried under your shirt, hinting at whatever she has in mind to make it true. "we might be in a bathroom stall but i'm still a gentleman." you felt her hot whisper hit your ear.

"w-what?"

"can i?" she looked at you with a darkened gaze, twisting a knot in your stomach. at this point you had no energy but to groan and nod yes, letting your head fall on her shoulder if it wasn't for her grabbing your jaw and making you lock eyes. 

what you said about her demeanor, you take it back.

"no, no. speak." briskly she nestled in the crook of your neck and licked a stripe there. 

"i…you're a tease." the answer was transparent.

chatter from the outside made you freeze vaguely, se-mi kept her pace on. "you gotta be quiet now."

her fingers slipped past the tight band, further and further. cold metal of her rings added to the feeling. you whined but se-mi shut you up with a kiss. she leaned her forehead against yours, a smug look on her face since she's leading the game.

her fingers made contact with your core, maybe if you just let out a scream right now you'd scare those women away.

"it's okay, you can do it." it did not help.

"please se-mi, i can't—" 

the second doors closed, she wasted no time slipping her fingers into you. you held onto her collar like a lifeline, head thrown back and air knocked out.

se-mi was mesmerized. wished it was a club rather than a place you have to get knocked out and drugged to be taken to. she will get you two outta here any means.

hitting all the right spots, distracting you with kisses and wandering hand you're about to collapse. "i'm-i'm close—"

"i know, i know," so she sped up, watching you fall apart, hitched breath in her ear so addicting, soft pleas she can't answer and oblige right now, hands gripping her hair. she'd take her time if she had one, hoping these cameras have decency so she can save you only for herself.

the least she can do in this short time is fix your shirt and jacket and pray you're coherent. "no worries, i don't leave a lady just like that but we gotta get out."

"hmm? sure, just give me a moment."

she chuckled, "not in that way. i'll tell you when we get back."

[justtormentcrewthings]

i am having a lot of "dawn and kallig are narrative foils" thoughts lately and because I always feel so awkward bringing it up with my actual pnp group, I will scream it into the void here

I think what fascinates me the most about those two is that they both deny themselves personhood but on opposite extremes.

Dawn tells people to use him, he refuses to be treated with the same standards, he would do anything to get his power back, not because he's power-hungry but because he wants to be useful again. He's nothing but a tool.

But sometimes... not often enough for anyone to notice, least of all Dawn himself, he's not. Sometimes he digs his claws into the holocron and hisses, mine. Sometimes, he looks at what others ask of him and asks, Why? Sometimes.

And 'sometimes' is enough for Kallig to notice.

Kallig acts like he's a god. He takes away people's memories of any moment that made him vulnerable, of the time he acted as a captain and not a formless sith. He wants people to bend to his will, not the way another person would ask a request of you but the way a god demands your obedience.

But sometimes... he's not. Because he's left traces of himself scattered across lesser space. He's left pieces of himself in the minds of those he worked with, and even though they're buried deep, they are floating to the surface now. It's a blurred image that doesn't quite make sense yet.

But Dawn has always been good at finding things.

[revoleotion]

I feel like there is this big difference in our pnp group regarding the implications of playing aliens/non-humans. I WANT there to be a difference. I want Chiss to be creepy and off-putting and feral at times. I want Dawn's eyes to glow and I need his teeth to be just a little bit too long. I need him to snarl and hiss because he isn't just a human but blue.

But the others are now making jokes about him being weird and a furry and I'm like?? First off, that's not a bad thing to be but also

Embrace the uncanny valley

Embrace playing something non-human

It's FUN

[innerfare]

Playing With Your Nipples - Part 2 

Summary: how they play with your nipples

Characters: Shanks, Beckman, Mihawk, Crocodile, Doflamingo, Corazon

Genre: pure smut

CW: NSFW // the obvious + toys (whips and clamps), Shanks is devious, Crocodile is mean with his hook

——— 

Shanks: 

Genuinely doesn’t understand why it’s not acceptable to play with your nipples through your shirt in public. Men grab their girl’s ass all the time in public. Sometimes, they’ll even spank them. And while you protest to him grabbing or swatting your ass in front of the crew, it’s always a halfhearted complaint. But when he starts squeezing your tits and feeling for your nipples… well, suddenly that’s a problem, one he thinks is asinine. If you don’t wear a bra around this man, he will be pinching your nipples, and if he does that, it’s only a matter of time before his mouth is on them, so you really ought to wear a bra. He’s definitely guilty of unclasping your bra in public (magician’s fingers). 

Beckman: 

He’s not sure what he likes more: you sitting in his lap and feeling him up, or you sitting in his lap and letting him feel you up. But he knows his favorite thing in the world is you sitting in his lap, usually at night or in the early hours of the morning when the rest of the crew is passed out, your shirt on the floor. If your back is pressed into his chest, it’ll be mere seconds before his hands are beneath your shirt and he’s tugging on your nipples, and it won’t be long after that that he’s laying you down on his desk to suck on them. Some of the most desperate moans you’ve pulled out of this man have been as you were grinding into his massive bulge while he sucked on your nipples.   

Mihawk: 

He enjoys using a whip on your ass every now and then, enjoys the way you squeal when it makes contact with your sensitive skin, and especially enjoys how much harder you seem to cum around his cock when he fucks you afterwards. But it wasn’t until you used it on his chest that it occurred to him to use it on yours, and now he can’t stop spanking your tits, leaning in to kiss your poor nipples between every two or three strikes. He’s merciless in his back and forth, tormenting you then comforting you, over and over again. 

Crocodile: 

Perhaps his favorite arrangement in the world is you naked and him fully clothed, not so much as a button undone on his shirt. He likes to bark orders at you, telling you which items of clothing to take off when, which now-naked body parts to caress and squeeze and pinch. Then he likes to drag his hook across your naked breasts, watching closely in hopes he can see your heart jump in your chest. And when he fucks you, without exception, his fingers are twisting one of your nipples, and if he can get his mouth around the other, he will, always biting down almost too hard when he cums.  

Doflamingo: 

He buys all sorts of pretty things to decorate your tits, a menagerie of expensive bras and pieces of body jewelry- silk, lace, velvet, pearls, and gold. He normally destroys these things, if not with his hands than with his mouth, often using shredded scraps of silk or broken strands of pearls as an excuse to punish you, even if he’s the one responsible. And punish you he does, at that point pulling out heavy clamps to torture you, some with little bells, others attached to collars. He also has a stack of close up photographs of your nipples stuck in these little traps, your skin littered with hickies. He's definitely a biter, not a sucker.

Corazon: 

So many sweet, gentle kisses it’s unreal. He’s so excited to kiss your lips, never mind your jaw and then the column of your neck. He normally starts out kissing your tits over your shirt because he just needs to get used to it, and then he’s pulling your shirt down and even tugging at your bra, gently kissing your tits and inching toward one of your nipples. His big, warm lips press into it, and you gasp, encouraging him to take it into his mouth. He’s much more of a sucker than a biter, though he might tug on them a bit with his teeth, if only because he’s over excited. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[pucksandpower]

Crazy Cravings

Max Verstappen x wife!Reader

Summary: pregnancy cravings can make you (and your husband) do crazy things … neither of you particularly minds

Warnings: 18+ content and pregnancy

You sit in the Red Bull Racing garage, feeling the warm Spanish sun on your face through the open door. The roar of engines and whirring of power tools surrounds you as the mechanics prepare for the race.

Your eyes are drawn to the iconic blue and silver cans scattered around the garage. Those tantalizing cans of Red Bull that everyone else seems to be drinking so casually.

Everyone except you and Max, that is.

You rub your rounded belly, feeling your precious cargo kick and squirm inside you. At six months pregnant, your cravings have been … intense, to say the least. But none more powerful than your longing for the crisp, fizzy taste of Red Bull.

The caffeine is off limits, of course. You would never dream of jeopardizing your baby’s health. But oh, how you crave that sweet, energizing flavor that used to be such a routine part of your life.

Max emerges from the back room, his bright grey eyes instantly finding you. He strides over, that effortless confidence and raw athleticism making your heart flutter, even after all these years. His gaze drifts to the Red Bull can in a mechanic’s hand and a grimace crosses his face.

“Liefje, are you alright?” He murmurs, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “I know how much those are torturing you lately.”

You force a smile, not wanting him to worry. “I’m fine, Maxie. Just … ignoring the siren call of carbonated temptation.”

His thumb strokes your cheek as he studies you, clearly not convinced. Max has been so incredibly supportive during this pregnancy, abstaining from Red Bull himself in solidarity. Cutting out his biggest vice, just so you don’t have to be tormented by the sight and scent of it everywhere.

“We should get you out of here,” he says, looping an arm around your waist to help leverage your bulk out of the chair. “The smells can’t be helping those crazy cravings.”

You open your mouth to protest, not wanting to pull him away from his work, but a fresh wave of dizzying desire hits you as a mechanic cracks open another can. The fizzing hiss and unmistakable scent make your mouth water uncontrollably.

“Max ...” you whisper, feeling your throat tighten with barely restrained craving and hormonal tears prickling your eyes.

He follows your yearning gaze to the Red Bull can and understanding dawns. “Oh, liefje ...” Scooping you into his arms, he strides from the garage, shooting an apologetic look at his crew.

Once outside in the fresh air, you bury your face against Max’s shoulder, inhaling his familiar, comforting cologne as he carries you to the motorhome. He eases you onto the couch, brushing kisses along your forehead and temple.

“I’m so sorry, schatje,” he murmurs, anguish lining his handsome features. “I hate seeing you suffer like this. If there was any way I could make the cravings stop ...”

You catch his hand, lacing your fingers through his calloused ones. “Max, you know I would never actually ask you to give up Red Bull, right?”

He shakes his head fiercely. “Not being able to have it for nine months is nothing compared to your sacrifice, carrying our baby. I don’t deserve you.”

Pulling him down beside you, you cup the chiseled line of his jaw, making him meet your gaze. “I happen to think you deserve the very best, Mr. Verstappen. And right now, the very best for both of us would be ...” Your voice cracks with fresh longing. “A damn Red Bull.”

Max’s eyes blaze with sudden determination, that iron willpower that has made him a champion coming to life. “Then that’s what I’ll get you. If those tossers at Red Bull Company won’t make a safe, caffeine-free version for pregnant women, I’ll personally make them regret it.”

You laugh shakily. “Max, you can’t just bully a corporation into creating a new product line for one person’s weird craving!”

“You’re not just one person,” he growls, tangling his fingers in your hair and bringing his forehead to rest against yours. “You’re my everything. And our baby deserves for its mother to be happy and have her cravings satisfied.”

Pressing a fierce kiss to your lips, he adds, “I’m calling them right now. And then straight to the CEO, if I have to. I’ll get you that Red Bull if it’s the last thing I do.”

True to his word, the indomitable Max Verstappen spends the next several days working every possible connection and calling in every favor. You catch bits of conversations, his clipped tones making it clear just how serious he is about this bizarre quest.

“No, I don’t care if it’s not ‘cost-effective’. This is for my very pregnant wife ...”

“She’s risking her health to grow an entire person! The least your company can do is make a freaking caffeine-free energy drink ...”

The crew quickly learns not to open any Red Bull around you, lest they face the wrath of an overprotective Max. Which is slightly embarrassing … but also incredibly sweet.

Your hormones most definitely approve.

Finally, there’s a break in the stalemate. Helmut Marko himself shows up at the motor home, those bushy salt-and-pepper eyebrows furrowed.

“Max, this is ridiculous. They will not reconfigure an entire product line just because Y/N is having a little … craving.”

You brace yourself for the explosion, but Max just levels Helmut with that intense stare. “If you could experience these cravings yourself, you would be singing a different tune. Y/N is sacrificing everything to have our baby. The least Red Bull can do is give her a safe option to have the flavor she misses so much.”

Helmut’s expression softens slightly at the obvious devotion in Max’s voice. “You know that corporate will never go for it. Not for just one person ...”

“Then make it for all the other pregnant women dealing with the same issues,” Max returns, unruffled. “Or is a company that plasters ‘Gives You Wings’ on every can really too cowardly to follow through on empowering people?”

You suck in a shocked breath at his daring play. But the flicker of anger and resigned capitulation in Helmut’s eyes shows that it worked.

“Fine, you little shit,” the older man growls. “I’ll talk to product development. But I’m not making any promises!”

Except somehow … Max’s sheer bullheaded tenacity eventually batters through all the corporate resistance and red tape. Three weeks later, an unmistakable bright blue can appears on the counter, the iconic Red Bull logo stamped across it.

“What’s this?” You ask in confusion.

Max slides an arm around your waist, beaming proudly. “Open it and see.”

You crack the seal, sniffing cautiously … and almost melt at the nostalgic, beloved scent of Red Bull. But just as you start to panic about caffeine, you notice the slightly different flavor.

“Max, is this ...”

He nods, grinning. “Zero caffeine but all the taste you’ve been craving. No more tears over those damn energy drink cans, okay?”

Throwing your arms around him, you yank his head down to capture his mouth in a grateful kiss. “Have I mentioned lately how incredible you are?”

“Once or twice,” he jokes, then sobers, cupping your belly. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to make you and our baby happy.”

“You’re giving me everything I ever wanted and more.” You take a long pull of the perfectly flavored liquid, sighing in blissful satisfaction. “We hit the jackpot with you, Max Verstappen.”

He kisses you again, reveling in your obvious enjoyment. “The only jackpot I need is right here.”

***

Your baby bump has popped out to truly impressive proportions now at eight months along. What started as an innocent craving for Red Bull has escalated into an all-out physiological war.

Nothing seems to satisfy you for long — you’re a walking bundle of hormones and insatiable desires.

From the plush solitude of the Red Bull hospitality suite, you try not to gaze wistfully toward the Ferrari encampment. But you can’t resist fixating on the tantalizing cones of rich gelato constantly streaming from their hospitality tent.

Watching a couple of Ferrari mechanics stroll by, licking at scoops of pistachio and stracciatella, is enough to kickstart a powerful new yearning. Your mouth waters shamelessly as they pass, the creamy dessert leaving you weak in the knees. Before you can overthink it, you’re shuffling toward the entrance, one hand cradling your belly.

“Scusi,” you call out hesitantly as you peek inside. “Mi dispiace … is it possible to get some gelato?”

You half expect to be waved away — it’s well known that the Ferrari team is notoriously insular and protective of their spoils. But the cheerful greeting you receive is instantaneous and overwhelming.

“Madonna mia! Look at this beautiful piccina!”

Suddenly you’re engulfed by a whirlwind of chattering Italian voices, greeted by smiling faces from the team of elderly signoras who comprise the Ferrari hospitality staff. Weathered hands pat your belly and cheeks, clucking sympathetically at your swollen state.

“You poor bambina, absolutely enorme! Of course we’ll get you some gelato to refresh you. And biscotti too! You need to keep up your energy, si?”

You’re ushered toward a plush sofa, various grandmotherly types fussing over you like you’re the most delicate, precious thing. It’s … surprisingly wonderful. They clearly adore babies and pregnant women. You get the sense that indulging a mother-to-be is hardwired into their very beings.

A tray of gelato cups appears, the rainbow of flavors almost dazzling in their variety — chocolate, pistachio, prickly pear, lemon, stracciatella. Before you can reach for one, it’s plucked from your grasp.

“No no no! Leave it to Nonna Maria.” A stout signora with a green paisley dress and frosted silver curls shakes her head sternly. “I’ll start you with the lemon to whet your appetite. Then a nice creamy stracciatella as a proper treat for the bambino.”

The tangy flavor of the lemon gelato hits your craving exquisitely. As soon as you’ve polished off that cup, Nonna Maria presents another brimming with the creamy chocolate chip perfection of stracciatella. You moan in appreciation, unbothered by the chorus of approving noises from your doting new entourage.

Before you know it, you’ve been plied with cups of hazelnut, strawberry, and caramel flavors as well. These hospitable Italian ladies simply won’t be deterred from pampering a future mamma. As you scrape the last smears of gelato from a ramekin, a new grandmother settles on the sofa beside you.

“Now ... tell Nonna Gina what this little maschietto or bambina has been craving, eh?” She pats your belly affectionately. “We have chefs who can whip up anything your heart desires!”

Is it a pregnancy thing, this sudden wave of tears that blurs your vision? Or just being so insanely touched by the kindness and maternal care of these lovely strangers? You blink rapidly, swallowing hard.

“Honestly … gelato has been my biggest craving these past couple days. I don’t know if I can eat another bite.”

A chorus of disapproving gasps and tuts rises from the assembled grandmothers. “Bah! This pregnancy has ruined your appetite, piccina,” one crows, waving a hand dismissively. “We’ll soon get it back to rights, don’t you worry.”

For the next hour, you’re lavished with attention, fussed over and coddled like the most precious jewel. Cold drinks and chilled towels appear to keep you comfortable as the nonnas take turns sitting with you, petting your belly and swapping outrageous birth stories.

Their colorful Italian voices swell and ebb as they bicker over whose recipe for pasta al ragu is most authentic, who has the most grandchildren, and whose first-born grandson is most handsome.

It’s chaos and noise and overwhelming affection … and you’ve never felt so utterly content.

As the afternoon light slants golden through the awning, a familiar figure appears in the entrance, haloed by the fiery rays.

“Liefje? I’ve been looking everywhere ...” Max’s disbelieving gaze sweeps over the scene in front of him — you, surrounded by a veritable coven of grandmotherly Italians who seem entirely absorbed with you. “What in the world ...”

A chubby signora with a bright orange shawl wrapped around her ample form hops up, beaming widely. “Ahh! We have been absolutely spoiling your beautiful wife, of course. Did you know she had a craving for gelato? Well, no problem for us — we have taken her like one of our own bambinas!”

The others cluck and murmur in outraged agreement at his shocked expression.

“We absolutely will not let a piccina in such a state go hungry or uncomfortable! Now you sit down so we can get you a plate of some proper food too!”

Max gapes at you, utterly nonplussed as you grin back at him with unabashed glee, utterly stuffed with Italian desserts and reveling in the indulgent babying. You pat the space beside you invitingly.

“You’ve got to try Nonna Gina’s tiramisu, Maxie. It’ll knock your socks off.”

He settles beside you, slinging an arm around your shoulders and still looking rather dazed. But the instant the first warm smile and pat lands on his arm or knee, Max’s expression melts. This team of fussing Italian grandmothers has clearly adopted you both as their own.

Nonna Maria reappears, shoving a plate stacked with crispy arancini, indulgent risotto alla Milanese, and a creamy slice of tiramisu into your husband’s hands. “Eat up! You need to keep your strength up too, caring for this sweet cosa bella.” She plants bristly kisses on both your cheeks before scurrying off again.

Max watches her go, then turns to you with a bemused chuckle, squeezing you close. “Well, schatje. I have to hand it to you — at least your pregnancy cravings bring you to some … interesting places.”

You hum in agreement, perfectly content as you snuggle against his side. “Can you really think of a better place for me to nest?” You grin as another nonna appears to pat his cheek, welcoming him into the chaotic fold. “I think I may have just found my second family.”

He tilts your chin up, eyes sparkling with warmth. “Anything that makes you happy and keeps our baby healthy.”

As he kisses you tenderly, surrounded by clucking encouragement and rapturous croons of “bello, bellisimo” from your new Italian grandmothers, you know you’ve never felt so blissfully cherished.

You and Max make your way slowly back to the Red Bull motorhome, stuffed to the gills with gelato and trailed by a gaggle of besotted well-wishers calling out farewells and advice.

“I still can’t believe you managed to befriend the entirety of Ferrari hospitality,” Max laughs, helping ease you onto the couch in his driver’s room. He nudges your belly playfully. “This little one is shaping up to be quite the international charmer!”

“Says the man who single-handedly compelled Red Bull to create an entirely new product line,” you point out, patting your swollen middle contentedly. “I have a feeling this baby is going to be the most spoiled child on earth.”

Max settled beside you, gathering you close with a tender smile. “Can you blame all our people for wanting to give the world to you two?” His thumb traced your jawline reverently. “You’re carrying a little miracle, liefje.”

Your breath catches, as it so often did when he looks at you like that. Like you’re his entire universe. With so much pure adoration and love shining in those grey eyes.

“Our miracle,” you correct softly, cradling his calloused hand over your belly. “I couldn’t have done it without you. Not just supporting me … but giving me everything I could ever dream of.”

He opens his mouth like he wanted to protest, but you press on, needing him to understand how treasured he makes you feel.

“You don’t stop until I’m happy. Even when I get these raging, random cravings that probably seem crazy, you move heaven and earth to give me whatever I need. Most people would never ...”

“Neither of us is most people,” Max interrupts fiercely. He presses a searing kiss to your lips, then the swell of your abdomen. “You and our little one are my entire world. I’ll spend every day showing you how much I love you both, how grateful I am to have you in my life.”

Hormones raging, you pull his mouth back to yours, savoring the taste and feel of him surrounding you. When you finally part, you rest your forehead against his.

“In that case, you better rest up for tonight,” you tease. “I have a feeling that someone’s going to get a craving for sardines and waffles right around midnight.”

***

At nine months pregnant, you feel like a blissfully beached whale.

Your belly protrudes so massively that you can barely see your feet anymore. Simple tasks like tying your shoes or rolling over in bed have become awkward geometric obstacles. Max has to help you up from every chair or couch, his strong arms levering your frame into a vertical position.

Lingering in the paddock is no longer an option either. You’ve been gently but firmly ordered back home to Monaco to prepare for the baby’s arrival.

Thank goodness your nesting instincts are going full tilt — otherwise you might go stir crazy waiting for this little one to make their grand debut. You’ve rearranged and re-organized the nursery a dozen times, washed and rewashed all the tiny onesies and miniature accessories, and baked enough lactation cookies to feed an army of nursing mothers.

Really, there’s only one craving occupying your mind now …

The thump of shoes in the hall makes you look up eagerly. Max appears in the doorway of the sunlit nursery, loose waves of brown hair framing his face. The plain white tee stretches enticingly across his chest and shoulders, making your mouth water for an entirely different reason than food.

“Hey schatje,” he greets, eyes crinkling at the corners as he takes in your flushed cheeks. A knowing smirk tugs at one side of his mouth. “Were you just ... thinking about me?”

You shake your head adamantly, wincing as the motion makes your whole body ache in protest. “Maybe just a little. This particular craving is getting out of control.”

Crossing to you in two strides, Max cups your jaw and brings your lips crashing together in a searing kiss. His tongue sweeps demanding and possessive into your mouth, making you whimper faintly. That intoxicating masculine scent of fresh sweat, motor oil, and sandalwood surrounds you in an alluring cloud.

After all these years, just the taste and smell of your husband is enough to drench you in molten wanting. Baby or no baby, Max Verstappen is still the sexiest goddamn thing on two legs.

“Mmm, I know exactly what you need,” he rumbles against your neck, nipping a tingling path along your sensitive skin. “Luckily for you, I’ve got a free schedule all afternoon to help take care of this craving ...”

He scoops you into his arms effortlessly, cradling your heavy weight against his chest to carry you to the bedroom. You twine your arms shamelessly around his neck, luxuriating in the hard strength of his body against yours.

“Aren’t you worried about ... squashing the baby?”

“Not at all,” he deposits you carefully on the bed. Those bright grey eyes darken with blazing lust. “I’m going to take such good care of you and our little one.”

His hands and mouth seem to be everywhere at once — caressing, nibbling, and stroking every sensitive inch he can lavish adoring attention on. You keen softly when he dips his tongue into your navel, rubbing reverent circles over the tight swell of your belly.

“You’re so gorgeous like this,” Max murmurs, lips brushing the crease where your torso and bump meet. “So ripe and round and radiant with our child. My beautiful, strong girl ...”

All you can do is lie there gasping, overwhelmed in the best possible way. He strips you methodically, leaving a trail of scorching, openmouthed kisses over every newly exposed inch.

“My sexy little pregnant wife,” he husks, tongue dragging up the slick crease at the apex of your thighs. “Can’t resist this craving can you, liefje?”

His fingers plunge inside you, curling expertly as his mouth closes over your throbbing bud. You throw your head back shamelessly, mindless with pleasure as Max devours you.

So good, so unbearably good …

He ravishes you thoroughly, sending gushing waves of release crashing through your body over and over again until you’re gasping and quivering. Atoms of blissful satisfaction hum in your bloodstream as you float back into sweet oblivion.

An insistent nudge against your belly slowly rouses you. Max looms over you, hair deliciously rumpled and eyes glittering wickedly. “Did I satisfy that craving sufficiently? Or should I keep going?”

Your mouth curves in a greedy smile, hands gliding over his flexing shoulders and chest. “Again, please ...”

It had long since become a running gag around the paddock and team — before you were advised to stop flying. When you couldn’t be located, someone would joke that you must be off ravaging your utterly besotten husband yet again.

Max took the ribbing with surprising grace, grinning unrepentantly whenever his shirt collar revealed another blossom of lovebites discoloring the skin of his throat.

You really didn’t care about the teasing. You’re indulging an entirely healthy and normal craving — just a wife thoroughly appreciating her man.

“Can you believe people used to call this a punishment?” You giggle breathlessly one afternoon.

Max nips a stinging path along the soft skin of your inner thighs, tracing tantalizingly close to your heated center. He laves his tongue soothingly over the reddened marks, leering up at you from between your parted legs.

“Let them call it whatever they want. I’m just taking advantage of your hormones making you insatiable for me.”

“Mmm, well I can’t seem to resist your obscenely perfect body either,” you admit with a lazy stretch. “Maybe we really are being punished.”

One dark brow wings up eloquently as Max drags his eyes over you in a deliberately insolent perusal. Taking your leg in hand, he licks an achingly slow, filthy stripe up the crease where thigh meets hip.

You choke on a whimper, whole body jolting as he sucks a blossom of wet kisses into the satiny expanse of your inner thigh. Those bright grey eyes hold yours in wicked challenge as his clever tongue massages and swirls over your sensitized flesh.

“This certainly doesn’t seem like punishment to me,” he husks darkly. “Does it feel like punishment when I do this ...” His mouth moves higher. “Or this ...”

By the time he finishes torturing you into a quivering, needy wreck, you’re more than ready to beg.

“Please, Max!” You sob, bucking helplessly against the maddening sensations. “I need you, oh god I need you so bad ...”

He settles heavily over you, nuzzling your hair aside to trail searing kisses along your damp throat. “Then you shall have me. My needy wife can have whatever she craves ...”

It’s midway through one such shattering round of lovemaking that Max’s phone begins to ring shrilly. You try to disentangle, burning embarrassment tinting your cheeks, but he simply growls and clutches you tighter.

“Leave it!” He bites out, surging forward to recapture your mouth in a bruising clash of teeth and tongue between thrusts. “I’m busy ... satisfying … my wife ...”

After, as you lie tangled in a sweaty heap of satiation, you can’t resist asking with a wry smile, “Was that another craving I just demanded you satisfy?”

Max props himself up on one elbow, thumb stroking idly along your abdomen as his piercing gaze roams over your flushed, disheveled form.

“Whatever my wife needs,” he responds huskily. Those burning eyes promise infinite carnal delights to come as they caress your body. “I’ll always crave giving her everything she desires.”

He stretches beside you, a blissful smile curving his lips as you snuggle up against his side to exchange lazy kisses.

You’ve got a sneaking suspicion this is one craving that might outlast the pregnancy ...

[justauthoring]

This is the Beginning [4/?]

Summary: You never thought you'd be able to escape Buggy, and yet, a boy with a straw hat, a man with three swords and a girl with orange hair somehow manage to free you. The journey that follows afterwards is your chance at freedom and maybe something more.

A One Piece Live Action Rewrite

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four

Pairing: Live Action!Zoro Roronoa x F!Reader

TW for this chapter: canon typical violence, bits of jealous!zoro, that's really all!

Word Count: 9,323

A/N: Well, we made it! We caught up to seaon one of OPLA! Unfortunately, that means this series will be taking a hiatus until the new season comes out since it is a rewrite. But! I might do little bonus chapters and bonding moments!!

I have started watching the anime, so I know the general direction the live action will probably follow. If you guys would like bonus chapters, let me know!

Tag List: @emmaiscool22 - @bethleeham - @veryunoriginal - @sun-rae04 - @medievalfangirl - @sylum - @academiq

Chapter Four - This is It

“Y/N! My old friend!”

Before you can even register the fact that Buggy is talking to you, a body steps in front of you, fully blocking you from view. The expanse of Zoro’s broad shoulders is the only thing you can see as he glares down at Buggy; “don’t talk to her.”

Buggy just laughs, loud and mocking. “Yeah?” He taunts, “and what are you going to do about it? Bleed on me?”

You can see the tension build in Zoro, muscles tensing and his shoulders raising with every word Buggy throws at him.

You don’t blame him. You still remember when Luffy had all but dropped the fact that during their fight with Arlong and Nami’s betrayal, they’d reunited with Buggy, or rather the head of Buggy. It was made ten times worse when Luffy also elected to inform you that Buggy was coming with you all and helping you to Arlong’s island, as part of a deal he’d made with the pirate. He told you the two of them had made it in return for his navigation to the island, he’d get his body back.

And even though Luffy had assured you he wouldn’t let Buggy try and pull anything on you, you still felt uneasy about him being onboard.

You had no doubt that Buggy’s intentions were not as pure as he was making them out to be. He had something up his sleeve, or at the very least, he would betray you all. At one point or another.

Still, it didn’t matter because you were stuck for him for now. It wasn’t up to just you and you did need him, at least to find where Arlong and Nami had gone. And after spending the first day refusing to go up onto deck in fear of having to face Buggy, your once captain and long-time tormentor, you were sick of hiding away. You’d decided to go up on deck, especially after Zoro had shown concern with you hiding away. Buggy only had his head, after all, so despite saying whatever he wanted, he couldn’t do much.

You try to remind yourself of that.

Your attempt at not being seen, however, had failed the second you’d made your way up to the deck as Buggy had clocked your arrival instantly.

Ignoring the racing of your heart, you reach forward, setting your hand on Zoro’s arm. He pauses at the touch, looking as if he was ready to just kill Buggy and be done with it. He turns his head around to glance down at you, and you send him a reassuring smile.

You remind yourself that you were with a crew of people who cared about you deeply and no one was going to let Buggy hurt you in any way. Not to mention, you’d grown yourself. You weren’t the same girl Buggy had spent years tormenting; you could stand up for yourself now, especially if you had your friends by your side.

He looks like he wants to argue, but still, Zoro doesn’t fight you when you step out from behind him, turning your eye on Buggy.

“I’m not your friend, Buggy. And I never was,” you say, voice firm in your defiance. “And don’t think that I don’t know all your tricks. If you even try to betray us, I’ll—”

“You’ll do nothing!” Buggy laughs, loud and piercing. “Just like you never did back on my crew! You always were too helpless for your own good. All it took was that cage and—”

It doesn’t take you much to figure out what he was implying with his words and it leaves an unpleasant taste in your mouth, thinking back to that horrible cage. However, he doesn’t get the chance to finish.

Zoro is crossing the distance over to Buggy in seconds. Usopp, who’d been standing at the helm, steering with Buggy’s degrading instructions, looks all too pleased as Zoro grabs Buggy by the top of his head, lifting him off the barrel he’d been set on. You, however, look concerned, wanting nothing more than Zoro to actually just get rid of Buggy but you knew you needed him to get to Nami.

“Woah! Woah! Woah! Wait!” Buggy pleads almost instantly, words coming out in a rushed panic. “I was just joking!” He tries to excuse himself, and your eyes widen as Zoro moves him so he’s hanging over the edge of the ship. Buggy’s voice rises in terror. “I was joking! Y/N knows I was joking! Don’t you, Y/N—”

“Let’s get one thing straight,” Zoro cuts in, voice sharp. “You don’t talk to Y/N.”

Biting your lip, you stare at Zoro’s back. You knew, obviously after the conversation the two of you had had, that Zoro cared about you but seeing him so openly defend you made your heart flutter in ways you didn’t know it could.

“You don’t look at her. Or bother her in any way. Is that clear?”

“Yes, yes,” Buggy rushes, voice a blur of desperation. “I won’t bother Y/N!”

“And if this is just another one of your tricks… or you leading us into a trap. Then…”

“Zoro, buddy!” Buggy laughs, “honour amongst pirates. Right? Come on. How about I sing a nice sea shanty to pass the time.”

Sighing, you press your hand to your forehead.

“Oh, there once was a girl with tangerine hair…”

Buggy continues, but a shared look back at you and Usopp makes Zoro’s decision for him easy. Turning around, he makes his way back up to the helm, where Usopp waits with the lid of a barrel topped off.

Zoro doesn’t hesitate to drop Buggy right inside.

“Ow! God, right on my nose!” 

Whatever else he’d been about to say is muffled as Usopp quickly places the top of the barrel back on.

Usopp turns back to you. “I hate clowns.”

Huffing a laugh, you nod your head, instantly eased at his silence. “Me too.”

Making his way back over to you, Zoro dusts off his hands, as if disgusted that Buggy had even been anywhere near him. You glance past him, making sure Usopp wasn’t paying attention anymore, before you reach for Zoro, smiling up at him.

“Thank you for defending me,” you mumble, wrapping your arms around his waist.

Zoro smirks, confident by your praise, but you see the soft flush to his cheeks. “It was a long time coming,” he shrugs, “I hate that clown.” He pauses, briefly, as if unsure of his own words. “Especially for how he treated you.”

The words, despite what they mean, pull a smile to your lips. Your grip on him tightens, and you lean into his embrace. Slowly, Zoro’s arm comes to rest around your shoulders, and you’re reminded of how new all of this still is. The two of you had only confessed your feelings a little bit ago and the two of you were still trying to maneuver those changes; especially since everything else was also still new. 

It was hard to believe it had only been a few short weeks since Luffy, Zoro and Nami saved you from Buggy and you joined them on their adventure. Finding Usopp, fighting Kuro and the Black Cat crew, then arriving at the Baratie, Nami’s betrayal and Sanji joining you… so much had happened in such a short amount of time. A part of you wondered if Zoro and you had moved too quickly into something beyond just a friendship, but then you feel the bandages across his chest on the skin of your cheek and you remember how close he’d been to dying.

Even if most would consider it quick, you didn’t want to waste a moment when you could lose him or he could lose you at any time.

Besides, he and the rest of the crew were stuck with you now. There would be plenty of time to work out the kinks.

“It’s okay,” you reassure Zoro. “I won’t lie and say what Buggy had done to me still doesn’t… haunt me. But, I’m not as scared as I thought I’d be when Luffy said he made a deal with him. Especially because now I have you guys. Because I have you.”

Zoro shifts and you pull back, giving him the room to lean back so he can meet your eye properly. A man of action as always, he raises his left hand, brushing back your hair to cup your cheek and presses a gentle kiss against your lips. It’s quick, the touch of his lips hovering for what feels like far too short, before he’s pulling back, smiling at you.

“I should talk to Luffy.” He says a moment later, “figure out our plan for when we find Nami and Arlong.”

You nod, finally letting your hands fall to your sides as you watch him walk away, sending one last warm look back at you. Your heart is still fluttering, even as he gets further and further away, feeling hot and weak at the same time.

“Someone’s down bad.”

Blinking, you turn around, finding Usopp staring down at you with the widest shit-eating grin on his lips.

Cheeks warming, you shake yourself out of your stupor, making your way up the stairs over to him. “Ha-ha,” you huff, but the smile on your lips is fond. 

Usopp just giggles. “Seriously,” he teases, “the two of you barely notice the people around you when you’re together.”

Coming to a stop next to him, you lightly nudge him with your shoulder. “Haven’t you teased me enough?” You whine, pouting, as your eyes glimmer with mischief at him. “The second Luffy told you what he saw, you haven’t let me off the hook.”

“It’s too fun,” Usopp shrugs, turning his gaze ahead to continue steering the ship. “You always get so embarrassed.”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you raise a brow. “I wouldn’t be so confident if I were you, Usopp.”

“Oh?” He challenges, “and why’s that?”

“Because you forget I saw you and Kaya,” you smirk, watching as the smile on his lips falls and is replaced by a bright red across his cheeks. “If you want to talk about two people smitten…—”

“Okay, okay! I won’t tease you anymore!”

You turn to Usopp, his face turning bright red as he wildly shakes his hands in front of him. It pulls a laugh from your lips, loud and warm, enough to pull Usopp from his own reverie as he blinks back at you.

Turning your gaze back ahead, you soften your smile; “I’m happy for you, Usopp. And I know you’ll see her one day again.”

Shoulders easing, Usopp grabs hold of the helm again and grins to himself. “Thanks,” he says earnestly, “and I’m happy for you too. You and Zoro.”

You squeeze his arm in return, smile infectious, and the two of you fall into a comfortable silence with one another for a few minutes.

Then, you catch sight of something ahead. 

“Usopp,” you call, shaking his own arm before pointing ahead of yourself. “Look!”

He leans forward, eyes squinting. “I don’t see anything,” he mumbles, confused.

You frown; “you don’t see the island up ahead?”

“How do you…” Usopp frowns, but his voice trails, squinting even more before he pulls back in realization. “Wait. I see it!” 

Instantly, he cups his hands around his mouth, breathing in sharply so yell out to the three at the front of the ship; “land ho!”

-

Walking behind Zoro, you frown at the sight of the village in front of you. In a lot of ways, it uncomfortably reminds you of the village Buggy had destroyed; the one Luffy had saved.

It’s desolate. Any sign of happiness that probably flooded these homes is gone, without a trace of it ever exiting. It makes your chest tight and your heart sinks.

You slow to a stop when you notice the rest of your crew doing the same, turning to the left and your lips part when you see what’s caught their attention.

“This is terrible,” you breathe, pressing a hand to your lips as you stare back at the flipped upside down house.

Zoro eyes you, before turning to the house; “never seen that before.”

“What could have done this?” Sanji asks, brows furrowed in bafflement.

Usopp hovers next to you, shuffling on his feet. “Maybe I should head back… make sure the Merry’s secure.”

Without hesitation, you reach for Usopp, squeezing his arm. He turns to you, the fear in his gaze apparent.

But before you can say anything to reassure him, Luffy speaks up;

“Arlong did this.”

His voice is unusually low, tinged with rage. You stare back at him with surprise.

“Hey, shit-hat!” Buggy calls, voice muffled through the bag Sanji is currently carrying him in. “I think we can all agree that Arlong’s a bad fish. But why don’t we quit lollygagging and get my body back?”

You scoff, “as if we should hurry for your sake.” Letting your gaze drag across the village once more, you frown. “This is no different than anything you’ve done before. Same innocent people being hurt, just different pirates.”

Sanji’s eyes fall on you, and you figure it’s because he’s the only one on the crew that doesn’t know how Luffy had found you. Sure, Usopp hadn’t been there, but he’d heard bits and pieces of it and probably was able to piece it all together. Sanji, who’d just joined, wouldn’t know. All he knew was you’d once been on Buggy’s crew.

You avoid his gaze. 

“Come on, Y/N! I certainly wasn’t as bad as—”

“Pipe down in there!” Sanji cuts him off, for your sake more than anyone else's. 

“Or what?” Buggy huffs. “You gonna whip me up a souffle?”

Dropping the bag, Sanji sighs, gesturing to Usopp. “How about you take him for a while?”

“Ooh,” Usopp breathes, shaking his head. “New guy carries the clown head.”

Feeling bad for the guy, you step forward, reaching for the bag. “Here, Sanji, I can—”

“Absolutely not—”

“It’s okay, Y/N, I’ve got it—”

Both Zoro and Sanji speak at the same time, and almost instantly, the two turn to each other with glares.

“Y/N is not carrying that clown head,” Zoro growls, shifting beside you.

“I agree,” Sanji bites out, shouldering the bag again before turning to you with a smile. “Don’t worry, Y/N. I got it under control.”

You hesitate, frowning, but seeing the smile on his lips and the way Zoro continues to glare at the cook, you decide to let it go. “Okay,” you shrug, “if you’re sure.”

The five of you continue to make your way, picking up the pace in your step when you see a group of people up ahead.

“Everyone! Please!”

The man speaking stands at the front of the crowd, holding a box. His expression is grim.

“We don’t have much time,” he continues. “And we’re short again this month.”

You frown when you watch a man step up, dumping a handful of Berry into the box.

That sinking feeling floods your stomach again.

“Is it enough?”

With a frown, the man at the front shakes his head slowly.

“Do we have time to get some more?”

“No.”

Your back straightens, recognizing that voice.

Sure enough, the crowd splits instantly, and you see Nami step through.

“You don’t,” she says, slowly making her way through the crowd.

Luffy steps forward, as if to go to her. Zoro stops him.

A woman with blue hairs steps right up to Nami, face twisted with rage. “You’ve got a lot of nerve showing your face here.” Nami doesn’t say anything in return, even when the woman spits right at her feet.

She walks off a second later, your eyes follow her. 

A moment of silence passes, then, Nami turns her attention back to the man with the donation box. “Got something for me?”

Slowly, he hands over the box.

It takes Nami one look; “you’re short.”

“Nami, please,” the man begs. “This is all we have. Arlong has bled us dry.”

“Then find more blood.”

Swallowing thickly, the sight breaks your heart. There was no way Nami could actually be this… heartless, right?

The man walks off as does the rest of the crowd. Nami, with the donation box still in hand, lets her gaze wander, freezing the second she catches sight of the five of you.

She makes her way over in seconds flat.

“Luffy?” She calls, voice sharp. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask the same thing.”

“This is where I belong.”

Luffy shakes his head, “I don’t believe that. This is not you.”

“No,” she argues. “This isn’t the me you want me to be.”

“Nami…” Luffy calls, voice soft. He steps towards her. “If you need our help—”

“No, I don’t need any of you.”

You flinch at that, watching as her eyes dance across the five of you. When her eyes meet yours, she’s quick to look away.

“Arlong wanted the map,” she explains, “and I conned you into getting it for me. And you bought it. I was never part of your stupid crew.”

“You don’t mean that.”

For the splittest of seconds, Nami’s face wavers. You see it, watch it happen, but it’s gone before you can do anything about it. It feels like you’re the only one who does see it.

“Take the rest of these clowns and sail away from here,” she spits. “I never want to see you again.”

She spins around, moving to walk off. You instinctively move to walk after her, knowing what you saw and not ready to give up, but Zoro grabs your hand, tightening his grip. Turning to him, his expression is sympathetic for you but firm; she won’t listen.

Usopp huffs behind you; “okay, that went about as bad as it could. So back to the boat before the fishmen find us? Sail the hell out of here? Okay.” 

Sanji shakes his head; “there’s something else going on here.”

“I think she was very clear she wants us to leave,” Zoro argues.

“You don’t know women,” Sanji instantly rebuts, “they never say what they mean.”

You blink, “well, I—”

“Tell me again why the cook gets a say.” Zoro huffs, turning to face Sanji.

“Don’t you guys get it,” Usopp cuts in, and you watch as the three of them circle around each other, bickering. All while Luffy remains standing where Nami left him. “She’s one of them. She’s a bad guy. The villagers are terrified of her.”

Raising your voice, you step forward and interrupt them before any of them can speak. “The look on her face was off,” you explain, remembering exactly what you’d seen. Turning to Zoro, you look back at him determined. “I know what she said, Zoro, but she looked like she was this close to breaking down. Sanji is right, there is something more going on here. I’m sure of it.”

Zoro, who looks put out that you’re siding with Sanji, steps towards you. “Y/N, I know that you don’t want it to be true but Nami…” He hesitates, seeing the look on your face. “Usopp is right. The villagers were scared. Of her.”

Face falling, you can’t deny that.

“Not all of them,” Luffy says, speaking up for the first time. You turn around to face him, but he steps forward before you can ask what he meant. “Hey! Scar guy.”

Only chancing one more glance back at Zoro, you quickly follow after Luffy.

“Who was that girl?” Luffy asks the man who’d been collecting the donations. “You know, the one with the cool hair?”

The man eyes you five. “Who wants to know?”

“I’m Monkey D. Luffy,” Luffy introduces, voice serious. “I’m a pirate—”

“—Hunter,” Zoro cuts in quickly. Hands shoved into his pockets, he steps up beside Luffy. “Pirate hunter. We’re here to collect Arlong’s bounty.”

Sensing the apprehension on the man’s face, you think that was definitely a smart save on Zoro’s part.

The man just raises a brow. “You? I’ve seen men twice your size and with twice your number go into Arlong Park. None of them ever came back.”

Luffy smiles. “We just want to talk to her.”

“Trust me,” the man argues, “you don’t. But if it’ll get you out of my town, try the house down that road, on the edge of the tangerine grove.”

-

“I don’t know how you do it.”

Jumping at the voice, you turn around, easing when you see it’s just Nojiko.

Turns out that girl with the cool hair, as Luffy had dubbed her, was Nami’s sister. After managing to convince her into talking to you with the promise of a home-cooked meal, Sanji had whipped her and the rest of you up a meal. It was only then Nojiko had agreed to tell you the story of how her and Nami’s mother had died because of Arlong, who’d taken control of this island eight years ago. And how Nami was now working for him.

The story had left the five of you all upset in your own ways. When Usopp had solidified the fact that Nami really was working for her mother’s killer, the air in the house had thickened with tension.

You’d stay for a while, but after Buggy had insisted on being let out of the bag to the point Sanji had been forced to do so, you’d taken your leave. Luffy, and then Zoro who had gone after him, had left the second Nojiko finished telling you everything and you hadn’t heard from them since. You figured it was best to give them space, so you’d chosen to wander through the tangerine grove right by Nojiko’s house.

When Nojiko had found you.

Meeting Nojiko’s eyes, you glance at her inquisitively.

“Deal with being stuck with four men,” she laughs lightly. “Especially on a ship. I’d go crazy.”

You smile back at her, snorting. “You get used to it.” Then, smile wavering just faintly, you can’t help but add; “it was easier, too. With… you know, Nami.” Hugging yourself, you glance at your feet. “It was nice having her onboard with us. Nice being her friend, if she ever thought of me as one.”

Nojiko doesn’t respond, probably not sure how to. Still, she offers a gentle and sympathetic smile in return. It’s clear she understands in her own way.

“Are you okay?” You ask, gesturing back to the house. “Sanji didn’t say anything, right? He’s a flirt and never means anything by it, but I’ll kick him for you if he makes you uncomfortable.”

Letting out a sharp laugh, Nojiko shakes her head. “He didn’t say anything,” she reassures with a wave of her hand. “I just needed some air. I was… I was actually planning on visiting her grave.”

Your lips part; “your mother’s?”

She nods.

You hesitate, glancing back at the far stretch of the tangerine grove and then back at Nojiko. You decide to just ask what’s on your mind. “Could I come with you?”

She seems shocked by our question, eyes widening and brows furrowing. 

“Only if you don’t mind,” you assure, shaking your hands at her. “I just… Just thought maybe you’d like a friend. And, well… I know what it’s like to lose a mother.”

Face easing, Nojiko frowns; “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. “It was a long time ago.”

Nodding slowly, Nojiko shrugs; “you can come then. And we can send a prayer to both of our mothers.”

Your smile brightens at that, worrying easing from your body as you nod at her. She returns the smile with ease and the two of you begin walking, Nojiko leading the way. The grave isn't that far away, so it doesn’t take you long before Nojiko is informing you you’re close.

“Just around this…—”

But her voice trails as you both hear… grunting? She glances back at you, worried, and you mimic her expression, rushing forward. You worry it’s someone from Arlong’s crew, heart sinking at what they could possibly be doing.

Only, it’s Nami you find.

You hesitate, feet freezing, but blind with anger at the realization of what Nami was doing, Nojiko rushes forward. “How dare you,” she hisses out, barely able to contain the anger in her voice. “It’s not enough that you’re working for our mother’s killer, but now you’re desecrating her grave too?”

You notice at the same time Nami does, her calling out for Nojiko, as the latter grabs the shovel next to the digged hole, swinging it back behind her to hit Nami.

Racing forward, you grab the handle of the shovel before Nojiko can swing it down just as Nami flinches back with a scream.

Nami’s eyes zone in on you; “Y/N? What the hell are you doing here?”

Meeting her gaze, your lips part; “I…—”

“Never mind that,” Nojiko spits, and she lowers her hands when you step back, but doesn’t let go of the shovel, looking ready to try and hit Nami again. “I can’t believe you would do this!”

Nami only glances at you once more, hesitating, before turning back to Nojiko; “it’s not what you think.”

Nojiko goes to swing the shovel again, and you move to grab her, but don’t reach in time. 

“You have no idea what I think!”

Nami’s name leaves your lips in a shrill cry and she just narrowly misses the edge of the shovel smacking her across the face, falling back. Instead of Nami, Nojiko hits the chest right next to the hole.

Bills and coins of Berry come pouring out of it.

Panting, Nojiko shakes her head; “what’s this?” She slowly turns to Nami. “Is this the money that you stole? And you’re hiding it next to our mother’s body?”

Confused and bewildered and definitely feeling like you’re encroaching on a moment between sisters you shouldn’t be, you remain silent, taking a step back.

“Nami,” Nojiko whispers, “what kind of monster are you?”

“You don’t understand,” Nami cries.

“Then make me understand.”

Her eyes flicker between you and Nojiko, unsure, before she focuses all of her attention on Nojiko. 

“I’ve been stealing this money because of a deal with Arlong I made,” she starts, moving to crawl out of the hole and grab her bag. “I told Arlong I’d work for him on one condition. That he let me buy back Coco Village. And he said he would for a hundred million Berry.”

“A hundred million?” You echo, unable to stop yourself. “That would take a lifetime.”

Nami shakes her head, reaching for Nojiko. “I have the money,” she explains. “All of it. And now I can buy the freedom of the village and everyone in it.”

Seeing the look on Nojiko’s face, you inhale sharply, turning. It occurs to you should give them a moment alone. This news was shocking enough to you, you couldn’t imagine how Nojiko, who’s obviously hated Nami for the past eight years, would feel. Sending the two of them a gentle smile, you walk off, moving to the edge of the woods.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you think about what Nami had said.

That look you’d seen her eyes, the one only you had seemed to be able to notice, made so much more sense now. None of this had been of Nami’s own volition or choice. And for the past eight years she’d been forced to work for and do the bidding of a man who’d killed her mother and threatened her family and friends.

The thought made you sick. You couldn’t imagine what Nami’s been forced to endure.

Minutes pass of you stuck in your thoughts, until you catch something through the foliage of the forest. It gives you pause, head turning in the direction as you squint, trying to figure out what you’d seen.

When you catch sight of a familiar white and blue uniform, your heart drops.

“Nami, Nojiko!” You call, rushing over to them as you reach for Nami’s chest of Berry. Nami stands at the sight, the conversation between her and Nojiko cut short as she assumes the worst of what you’re doing.

“What are you—”

“We don’t have time,” you cut her off, staring at her with panic in your eye. “The Marines, they’re—”

“Already here.”

Lips left parted, you, Nami and Nojiko’s heads snap round, back in the direction you’d come from, bodies freezing at the sight of a line up of Marines stopping in front of you.

“A shame to interrupt such a touching moment,” the lieutenant Marine offers, voice not at all sympathetic. “I’ve heard that pirates are stashing their plunder in this area. You three wouldn’t happen to know anything about that?”

Feet frozen in place, you eye the back of Nami and Nojiko, before shifting your attention back to the lieutenant. This was bad. Very bad. There was no way to hide Nami’s stash, especially not when it was clear it was exactly what the Marines were already looking for.

“That’s obviously been stolen,” the Marine lieutenant comments, eyeing Nami’s money. “By the authority of the Marines and the World Government, I'm going to have to confiscate it.”

“No,” Nami gasps. “No, you can’t do that. It’s mine!”

“A hundred million Berry?” The lieutenant raises a brow, “and where would you get that much money?”

“Nami got that money fair and square,” you hiss, stepping forward as you glare at the man. “You have no right to take it from her.”

“No right?” The lieutenant laughs, loud and mocking. “I have the right as a Marine lieutenant, silly girl.”

“Wait,” Nami cuts in, breathless, before you can speak, as if having realized something. “How did you know it was a hundred…” But her voice trails, and a glance back at her tells you she’s figured it out.

“Arlong put you up to this, didn’t he?”

Your lips part, gasping. 

“I… I don’t know what you mean,” the lieutenant shrugs. Then, he shifts, nodding at the men behind him. They listen instantly. 

Nami and you both start. She reaches for her bag, trying to grab her weapon, but the Marines are too quick. Two of them flank her, grabbing her by the arm. You growl at the sight, stepping forward to help, but then the men that had been standing to the left of the lieutenant step towards you. 

“Watch yourself. Or we will take you into custody as well.”

Past their shoulders you can see the Marine officers holding Nami shove her to the ground. Rage floods you, and you move towards her, but you’re blocked by more officers. Instantly, they go to grab you, but you dodge their grasps, trying to slither past them. You make it past one, reaching for Nami and then a sharp sting radiates across your cheek.

You trip over your feet at the impact, stunned, falling to your knees as your hand hovers across your cheek in shock, staring up at the officer who’d punched you. He stares down at you, unbothered. His hand rests on his baton, as if baiting you to try again.

Nami, who’d watched the whole display, continues to thrash and fight the hands that hold her down.

“No!” She screams when she sees them grabbing her Berry. “You can’t do this. You can’t do this!”

Cheek stinging and eyes watering in despair, you watch the Marines grab her money all while Nami screams, helpless to do anything. They take it all, not leaving a single Berry behind, and not offering even a glance at Nami who cries out for them to stop.

When the officers let her go and walk off, Nami instantly moves to get back up. Nojiko, who’d seemed frozen in the spot until then, grabs her. “Wait, Nami,” she pleads. “Stop! Wait. Wait!”

“Let me go!” Nami cries, fighting her sister's grip. “Let me go! They can’t do this!”

“Nami,” you breathe, staring at her in shock.

“There’s nothing you can do!” Nojiko tries.

But Nami doesn’t listen to her.

“Arlong will kill the entire village!” She bellows, voice pitching in distress, finally breaking free from Nojiko’s grip and running off in the opposite direction of the Marine’s and instead towards the village.

“Nami, wait!” Nojiko begs, screaming after her.

Pushing yourself to your feet, you wipe your tears, grabbing Nojiko’s hand and pulling her eyes on you.

There’s only one thing that can help her now. Or rather, people.

“Nojiko. Nojiko, listen to me,” you pant, tugging on her hand. Her eyes fall on you, wild and terrified. “We need to get Luffy and the rest. They can help! I promise!”

Chest rising and falling and breathless, Nojiko inhales sharply, trying to calm herself.

“Okay.”

Never letting go of her hand, you pull her along, the two of you take off in the direction you’d first come from. Nojiko’s house is closer than the rest of the village, separated off, so it doesn’t take either of you very long to get back to their house and your friends. The two of you break through the tangerine grove, breathless and panicked, and Zoro and Luffy who had been up on the roof see you instantly.

“Y/N?” Zoro calls, concerned. Him and Luffy glance at each other briefly before quickly climbing down the roof. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

Zoro’s voice must’ve caught the attention of Usopp and Sanji because they come running out of the house too,

“What’s going on?” Usopp asks.

“Y/N?” Sanji’s gaze instantly zones in on you, taking in your distressed state. “And Nojiko? Are you—”

Luffy and Zoro come to a stop in front of the both of you.

Nojiko, unable to catch her voice, shakes her head. “Nami, she’s…” But a cough wracks through her body, exhausted after everything from the Marine’s, trying to stop Nami and then running.

Zoro zones in on you then, catching sight of your face. “Y/N, your cheek,” he breathes, voice low as he reaches for you, cupping your jaw to pull your gaze up on him. His eyes flood with anger when he gets a better look at your red and stinging cheek. “Who did—”

Resting your hand over his, you shake your head. “It doesn’t matter,” you dismiss, and cut him off quickly before he can argue. “We have to help Nami. Arlong… Arlong is going to destroy the village!”

“What?” Usopp squeaks, “he’s coming here?”

“Is it because the village was short on money?” Sanji frowns.

Meeting Nojiko’s eyes, you both frown. “Nami had a deal with Arlong,” you explain, shifting from Zoro to Luffy. His face is serious, and he listens to you carefully. “He betrayed her. The Marine’s stole her money and now Arlong is going to destroy the village. We have to help them. We have to help Nami!”

“Please,” Nojiko pleads beside you. “Please.”

Zoro steps towards you, and you turn to him, barely noticing the way your eyes are watering. He frowns down at you, before turning to Luffy.

“Nojiko, stay here. Y/N.” You turn back to him, breathing in. “Lead the way,” Luffy says, voice sharp. 

Meeting his eyes, you nod.

-

Walking past Luffy, you fall to your knees next to Nami.

She starts at the sight of you, teary-eyed and gasping, but you just smile gently at her. Shifting your bag, you pull out the bandages in there. You’d originally grabbed them for Zoro, but staring at her bleeding arm, you figure it was best her wounds were cleaned and wrapped.

“Here,” you say softly, slowly grabbing her arm. You hesitate, not wanting to startle her, but she doesn’t flinch away when you reach for her. Comforted at the action, you grab the cloth you’d also pulled out, wiping at the blood.

“I can clean it better later,” you explain, “but for now.”

She doesn’t respond, and you let her remain silent, incapable of understanding what she could possibly be going through in that moment.

The two of you sit in silence, away from the boys as they figure out how they’re going to go up against Arlong. Nami watches as you bandage her, and you do so without saying anything. Truthfully, you don’t know what you could say. Your heart broke for her and the villagers and every sting of betrayal you’d felt before is gone. 

Now, you only feel guilt for having ever doubted her.

“There,” you whisper, doing the last loop of the bandage. 

Nami glances down at her arm and she ponders it for a while, before;

“Thank you.”

Lips parting, your head snaps up, blinking. 

“Back there, with the Marines,” she points at your cheek. “You tried to stop them.”

“Oh,” you frown, “you don’t have to thank me. I’m… I’m sorry I couldn’t stop them then.”

Blinking back her tears, Nami’s face falls.

“Luffy will be able to stop Arlong, Nami,” you smile at her, taking a leap and squeezing her arm. She straightens at the touch, but her gaze is warm as she looks back at you. “We’ll help you. You don’t have to do it alone anymore.”

Her eyes fall shut, a single tear escaping her defences as she leans towards you.

“Thank you.”

-

“I can fight.”

“We’ve hardly done any training—”

“Zoro,” you huff, balling your hands into fists at your side. “I want to help.”

He eyes you, frowning. “I know you do, but Arlong’s men are strong.”

Mildly insulted, despite knowing he was right, and frustrated, you glare up at him. “I’m helping. You can’t stop me.”

Clearly frustrated himself, Zoro presses a hand to his face. “You don’t even have a weapon.”

“Nojiko gave me a gun,” you counter, grabbing the rifle from the wall you’d set it against, and holding it up to him to see. “She taught me the basics of how to use it. I probably won’t be as good of a shot as Usopp, but I can still try.”

Breathing in sharply, Zoro glances back at the crew, noticing the way they’re getting ready to go. Turning back to you, he steps towards you, cupping your cheeks. “I don’t want you to get hurt again.”

Wrapping your hands around him in return, you smile, “I know. Because I don’t want you to get hurt too.” Squeezing his hands, you look up at him reassuringly. “I’ll stay back and not put myself in danger. But I want to help Nami. Don’t ask me to stay behind when she’s my friend too. That’s not what we promised each other.”

Sighing, Zoro knows you’re right. “You stay away from the thick of it,” he orders, voice serious. “And if you need my help, call for me. I’ll come to you right away.”

Biting your lip, you smile. “I promise,” you assure, nodding. “The second I’m in danger, I’ll call for you. Only you.”

Cheeks flushing, Zoro rolls his eyes. “As long as you promise.”

-

Despite losing sight of Usopp in the mess, you think you’re doing a fairly good job.

Obviously, Sanji and Zoro were taking down most of the men, but you can proudly say you’ve at least gotten a few really good shots. There was even the time you’d shot down a guy that had been gunning straight for Zoro, to which he’d smirked back at you in response.

The pride you’d felt was imminent. 

Just like how you’d been able to see the island before anyone else back on the boat, or how you’d seen the Marines coming through the thick forest foliage, your left eye was able to catch sight of Arlong’s man easily. And even though you were still rocky with the gun itself, your eye  helped you see things you’d never been able to before.

You’ve never seen things so clearly.

Taking one last shot at one of Arlong’s men and watching him crash to the ground, you straighten up from behind the rock you’d perched yourself behind. You couldn’t see Zoro and Sanji from where you were and a quick glance across the park told you you’d all (mainly them) managed to take out most of Arlong’s men.

Standing to your feet, you climb down the rocks and head in the direction you thought you’d last seen Sanji and Zoro go in. Despite being further back, you’d watched them argue the entire time they’d been fighting, so you figured checking on them was probably the best idea.

Sure enough, eventually you can hear their muffled voices arguing. You follow the sound, coming around a broken down stand, only to come crashing into someone.

You stumble back, blinking, until your eye lands on the familiar sight of Buggy. With his body.

Your grip instantly tightens on your gun, while his lips stretch into a wide grin.

“Sorry, my Angel Eye,” he laughs and you hiss at the sound of that nickname, stepping towards him. He holds his hands up as he wiggles his fingers at you in a mocking goodbye. “I’d love to catch up but I gotta go!”

He runs past you in the next second before you even have a second to blink, and your hand twitches, wanting to stop him. But honestly, the thought occurs to you it might just be best to let him go; if he was gone, then at least you didn’t have to see him and listen to his grating voice any longer.

You also don’t know at that moment if you were strong enough to kill him. Not in the physical sense, but… mental.

Shaking your head, you let the thought leave you, focusing back on finding Zoro and Sanji.

Figures he’d betray you guys anyways.

Scoffing, you continue making your way forward, face easing when you see Zoro and Sanji.

“I see Buggy betrayed us,” you comment, gesturing behind you.

Sanji and Zoro turn to you.

“He didn’t do anything did—”

“What did that fucking clown say—”

Blinking at the both of them, you watch as they turn to each other, before promptly turning the other way.

You bite your lip, laughing. “You guys are—”

Whatever you’d been about to say gets cut off the second you let out a scream. A sharp, aching pain radiates from your left eye, making you fall to your knees as you clutch at your face, curling in on yourself.

Your name leaves Zoro’s lips as he and Sanji run towards you, Zoro kneeling in front of you.

“Y/N,” he calls, voice pitched in panic. “Y/N, what happened? What’s going on?”

“I—” Hissing, you cry out as the sting continues to radiate across your face.

Hands fall on you, careful and slow, pulling your own away from your face.

Leaning forward, Zoro pauses at the sight and Sanji behind him gasps;

“Y/N, your eye…”

You stare up at them, hand hovering by your face, trying to bear through the pain.

“What… What’s happening?”

“Your eye is glowing, Y/N,” Zoro mumbles, shaking his head. “It’s like… shining.”

Frowning at him, you ease when the pain lessens somewhat. Still, your heart is racing with terror of what’s happening.

“Does it still—”

Footsteps cut Zoro off, all three of your guys’ attention snapping to the right where you see one of Arlong’s main lackeys coming over. He grins wide at the sight of you three, and instantly, Sanji is shifting into a fighting stance as Zoro stands, stepping in front of you.

“Stay back, Y/N,” Zoro calls, stretching his arm in front of you.

You nod up at him, pushing yourself back as you try and bite back another cry of pain.

It doesn’t take them long to fight him. Even though Sanji gets kicked around a bit, the second the bad guy says something about Nami, Sanji is zoned in on him. With a series of powerful kicks, you watch as Sanji takes down the guy in seconds.

Zoro turns to you, sure that it was safe to, crouching. His touch is gentle as he tries to get a closer look at your eye.

As their fight had progressed, the pain had lessened. And now, it’s nearly gone, just a faint, residual itchy feeling.

“Does it still hurt?” Zoro frowns.

You shake your head, “it’s just… uncomfortable. Is it still glowing?”

“Not anymore,” he shakes his head, shifting his hands to your hips as he helps you back to your feet.

“Has that ever happened before, love?” Sanji asks, staring back at you in concern.

You ignore Zoro’s huff at the nickname, shaking your head at Sanji. “No,” you frown. “I have no idea what that was.”

Turning back to Zoro, it’s hard to hide your fear.

Brushing his fingers across your cheek, Zoro shakes his head. “It’s okay, just tell me if it happens again, alright? We’ll figure it out.”

Eased at his reassurance, you lean into his touch.

“Also,” Zoro smiles down at you, “you did great.”

His words bring an instant beam to your lips, appreciating his ability to shift your mind away from your worries and praise you at the same time. You grin, clapping your hands in front of you in joy. “Really?” Then, turning to Sanji, your eyes sparkle. “You think so too, Sanji?”

Any discomfort he’d shown at Zoro’s words to you eases as he grins at you. “Of course, love, you did amazing.”

Your face is practically sparkling.

“Would you stop calling her that?” Zoro huffs, “and what was with those stupid names with your kicks?”

“All great heroes have names for their attacks,” Sanji shrugs, unbothered.

Zoro hesitates before sighing. “Yeah, you’ll fit in great.”

You grin, happy they were (sorta) getting along.

Just then, a familiar screaming catches your attention. Turning your gaze to the entrance of Arlong park, you watch as Usopp comes running in, slingshot at the ready.

“Never fear, the Great Captain Usopp is…” But his words trail when he realizes everyone is already down. “Is… oh. You guys did pretty good in here.” Sighing, he grins at you all, sending you a thumbs up. You send him one back. “Good job guys!”

He nods to himself, and the four of you shift, falling silent.

Putting a hand to your right eye, so you see nothing, you frown to yourself, unable to ignore the unsettled feeling still in your stomach.

“Nami!”

Blinking at Sanji’s call, you look up, face brightening when you see Nami running over to the four of you.

Sanji’s arms stretch wide for a hug, but she runs past him, gunning straight for you, Usopp and Zoro. You stumble as you’re brought into an embrace, squished between Zoro and Usopp as Nami’s face falls into the crook of your neck.

“You’re all okay!”

Smiling at her, you nod as she pulls back, taking one last long look at the three of you before turning back to Arlong’s base.

“Where’s Luffy?” Zoro asks.

Glancing at Sanji, who’d been rejected seconds before, you offer a small wink when he meets your gaze.

“Still inside,” Nami answers, “fighting Arlong.”

Turning back to Arlong Park, you frown, however, at the sight of the building crumbling apart.

-

“That was crazy, huh?”

Smiling down at Zoro, you take a seat next to him, letting your arm brush against his before turning to meet his gaze.

Zoro snorts next to you, returning your smile with a softer one of his own. He leans back as you sit next to him, and you don’t fail to notice the way he leans back, his right hand falling to a spot behind you, silently giving you the room to lean into him.

Biting back your smile, you don’t hesitate to do just that.

“Thought we were going to be fighting off the entirety of that Marine force,” Zoro comments dryly, letting his gaze drift in front of the both of you. You think back to what had just happened moments prior and the realization that the Vice Admiral, Luffy’s grandfather, had been chasing after all of you as some sort of test for his grandson.

Letting out a laugh, you glance up at Zoro, an adoring look in your eye. “I bet you would’ve too,” you comment. With a teasing grin, you poke at his side, careful of his wound. “After all, you like being Luffy’s first mate more than you’ll admit.”

Rolling his eyes, he smirks down at you; “maybe.”

You giggle, letting your head fall onto his shoulder and drift your gaze across the crowd of bustling and happy villagers. It’s a stark contrast from when you’d all first arrived on Cocoyashi Village, but it was one that made your heart swell with pride and warmth. Arlong and his goons were gone and now Nami’s village could live in peace like they always should’ve been able to.

Speaking of, you pause in your thoughts when you notice Nami and Nojiko walking past you. Both of their eyes are on you and Zoro and while Nojiko offers a simple wave and a warm smile, the look in Nami’s eyes is telling as she wiggles her brows at you, gesturing loosely to Zoro. You flush, but the grin on your lips is undeniable.

You watch them walk off, happy the two sisters could have these final moments together.

“How’s your eye?”

Looking up at the sound of Zoro’s question, you find him staring down at you, chin dipped towards you and eyes dancing with concern.

“Better,” you say honestly, letting your hand fall over your left eye, covering your vision completely for a brief second before turning back to Zoro. “I don’t know what that was but I… have been noticing things recently.”

Zoro’s brows furrow; “what things?”

“I just… see things,” you shrug, unsure how to explain it. “See things before others can. Like when I saw the island… Usopp didn’t see it for a minute and we all know that the one thing he does have is good vision. Or when the Marine’s stole Nami’s money, I could see them far before I should’ve been able to.”

Zoro takes in your words, slowly nodding. “You think it could have to do with Mihawk?”

“Maybe,” you nod, the thought having already crossed your mind. “I’ve never understood why my eye looks like this or why my right one is blind… My mother had normal eyes. Maybe something went wrong when I was born?”

Still leant against him, Zoro shifts, moving to slip your hand in his own as he squeezes. “Well, whatever it is, we’ll figure it out, yeah? There’s gotta be an answer somewhere out there.’

His voice is sincere, serious with the promise of helping you. Warmth floods you, heart fluttering, and you think back to the first time you ever met Zoro. When he’d stumbled in that tent that day, you never would’ve thought this is where you’d be now.

Nodding up at him, you say; “it’s a promise.”

He smiles, and with that, you let your head fall against his shoulder again, hand still in his.

The two of you spend the rest of the celebration like that.

-

“So…”

Glancing over at Nami, you huff; “so?”

“You and Zoro?” She grins, wide and from ear to ear. “Can’t believe I missed that.”

Letting out a chuckle, you shake your head. “Don’t tease me,” you whine faintly, pressing a hand to your forehead as the two of you make your way to the kitchen. “I already got enough of it from Usopp.”

Nami barks out a laugh just as the two of you slip inside.

“Get enough of what from me?” Usopp asks, looking up for one of his new ammo experiments he’d been working on.

Meeting Nami’s eyes, the both of you giggle.

“Nothing!”

“Ah,” Sanji comments from the counter, “it’s so nice to be rewarded with such lovely laughter from two lovely ladies.”

You let out a chuckle, moving to sit next to Zoro as Nami grins over at Sanji.

“Oi,” Zoro calls, looking up for his swords. “What have I said about flirting with Y/N, you damned cook?”

Sanji just shrugs, not at all bothered; “I can’t help it. Y/N’s elegance merely demands it.”

Nami and Usopp cackle but you notice the way Zoro moves to get up, quickly grabbing ahold of his arm to stop him.

“You—!”

“Guys!”

Thankful for the distraction, your face lights up as Luffy comes bounding into the kitchen, a slip of paper in his hands. Moving towards the table, he slams it down.

“Look.” 

“Oh, shit,” you breathe, staring down at the wanted poster.

“Hey, look,” Usopp cheers, “I’m famous!”

Sanji shakes his head; “what are you on about? That’s Luffy’s wanted poster.”

“Not just Luffy,” Usopp smirks, reaching forward and pointing at the paper. You follow his gesture, huffing a laugh when you realize, sure enough, there Usopp is in the left corner of the poster.

Or, at least, the back of him.

“Sorry, guy,” Usopp chuckles, glancing at you all. “Maybe if you work a little harder, you’ll get a bounty too.”

“That doesn’t count.” Sanji rolls his eyes.

“It’s okay to be jealous. Feel what you need to feel.”

“I… mm…” Cutting himself off, Sanji submits; “this is stupid.”

“This is gonna make things much harder,” Zoro comments from next to you. “With that price on your head, every bounty hunter in the East Blue will be gunning for you.”

“Not just Luffy,” Nami adds. “They’re gonna be gunning for all of us.”

Everyone falters, faced with reality, but you just smile over at Luffy.

“Still,” you speak up, pulling Luffy’s attention on you. “Good for you, Luffy! That’s the first step to being the King of the Pirates!”

He sends you a thumbs up, as the rest groan.

“What have we talked about,” Nami frowns at you. “You don’t need to encourage him anymore than he already encourages himself.”

You just shrug, grinning.

“Besides,” Luffy shrugs, “it doesn't matter. Because we are not staying in the East Blue.”

Staring up at all of you, he grins; 

“We’re going to the Grand Line.”

-

“Straw Hats! All hands on deck for a cast-off ceremony.”

Listening to Luffy’s order, you step out onto deck behind Zoro, raising a brow when you see Luffy, Nami and Sanji already gathered around a barrel.

Usopp’s the last to arrive, and the second he comes to a stop, Sanji raises his leg, placing it on the edge of the barrel.

“I’m gonna find the All Blue,” he promises, and your heart starts with realization of what’s happening.

Luffy follows his lead with ease, slamming his leg on the barrel with a bit more force. “I’m gonna be King of the Pirates!”

Zoro shifts next to you, smiling wide, and then, he does the same. “I’m gonna be the world’s greatest swordsman.”

“I’m gonna draw a map of the world,” Nami promises, raising her leg as she smiles at you all.

“I…” Usopp hesitates, shifting, before raising his leg. “Am gonna be a brave warrior of the sea!”

Laughter echoes, and then, everyone’s eyes shift to you. Hesitating similarly to Usopp, you glance at the barrel and then each of your friends.

Feeling your heart flutter with excitement, you raise your leg, taking up the last bit of space left on the barrel.

“I’m gonna discover the truth about my eye!” You promise, biting your lip.

You glance at everyone, grinning, until your eyes fall on Zoro who smiles back at you with pride.

“This is it, crew,” Luffy calls, “The Grand Line.”

He pauses, meeting each and every one of your eyes, before, his raises his hand to the sky and screams;

“Nothing’s gonna stand in our way! Yeah!”

Without hesitation, you lean back, inhaling sharply before letting out a bellow of; “Woohoo!”

[hearts4hughes]

Hello!! Could you write about rafe and reader break up and rafe sees old videos/photos of them and he does everything he can to get her back like they didn't end things on good terms yk I hope this makes sense! And It would be great if it the ending was a cute happy ending but it's up to you however you wanna end it!! Love your work btw ❤❤

note: i’m sorry the ending sucks😭 please send me another request if you want me to make one with more detail of him fighting for her back

the memories haunted him just as much as the breakup itself. everywhere he looked in his house was graced with your presence. from the wilting bouquets that decorated every table, to your heels in his mud room that he hasn’t had the heart to return.

even his phone is a graveyard of your love. his lockscreen, a picture of you with a flower tucked behind your ear, taunted him every time he dared to answer a text or send an email.

in the morning it was easy to ignore. he would busy himself with work, stay at the office until the cleaning crew kicked him out. he would go out to lunch with topper and drink his emotions out of his body. but at night, it wasn’t dismissible.

he lies in his bed, staring at the ceiling, counting how many times the frogs croak in one hour. this feeling was foreign to him. rafe cameron never has his heartbroken, no, he was the heartbreaker! but the unmistakable feeling of a weight on his heart wouldn’t go away.

after the tenth time of repositioning himself, flipping his pillow over, and focusing on his breathing, he gave up. he props himself on his elbows, blinking away whatever sleep was stuck in his eyes. the phone on his night stand torments him. like a siren in open waters, singing so beautifully. and rafe was the captivated sailor who was changing course to go towards it.

he grabs the phone, the screen lighting up the room in a harsh glow. your face greets him immediately, eyes squinted, blush lips parted in a laugh, the flower nestled behind your ear. seeing the picture at night always hurts more.

he clicks to his camera roll, swiping through your love story. blurry concert selfies, lazy sunday mornings wrapped in his sheets, your smile stretched wide as he took pictures of you from the driver’s seat while you whined for him to stop. it’s all there, frozen in pixels, a slideshow of everything he’d managed to destroy.

he hesitates over a video from last summer. the two of you on his boat, your tan skin glowing in the golden hour light, laughter carried away by the wind as you lean into him, pressing a kiss to his jaw before whispering something that makes his grin spread wide, proud and boyish. he plays it, the sound of your laugh filling his room, vibrating throughout his chest.

“god,” he mutters, squeezing his eyes shut as if that could somehow make it hurt less. his jaw clenches, the muscles in his neck tight and taut. he can’t keep living like this, haunted by your ghost in every corner of his life.

he sets his phone down, breath coming in shallow pulls. he lays his head down, hand reaching out for you in his sheets. it’s almost as if his brain makes out your silhouette next to him. a thousand thoughts race through his mind, each one more desperate than the last. he needs to fix this. he needs you.

the next morning, he’s parked outside your apartment before he even realizes he’s driven there. the sight of your building makes his stomach flip, his fingers gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles bleach white.

he almost turns back. almost convinces himself to pull away and let you have your peace. but then he remembers the way you looked at him in that boat video, like he hung the stars themselves, and it’s all the courage he needs.

he doesn’t bother to text, instead, he takes the stairs two at a time. when he reaches your door, he forces himself to pause, dragging a shaky breath into his lungs.

and then he knocks.

you answer, bleary-eyed and wrapped in one of his old sweatshirts, the one you never gave back. his heart stutters, and for a moment, he forgets why he came.

“rafe?” your voice is soft, uncertain. your eyes are swollen and bloodshot, tears stain your perfectly rosy cheeks. your hair is tousled, like it’s been in that messy ponytail for a few days. but to rafe, you look like an angel.

he swallows, words fumbling in his mind, but he forces them out. “i messed up,” he says, voice rough, laced with something dangerously close to a whine. “and i know i don’t deserve a second chance, but i’m here begging for one anyway. because i can’t…i can’t keep doing this without you.”

your eyes search his, the walls you’d so carefully built around your heart cracking, falling under the weight of his gaze.

“rafe, i—”

“just… let me in?” his voice wavers, the vulnerability raw, unfamiliar on his tongue. “let me try to fix this.”

“i don’t know,” your voice trails off.

“please, i can’t sleep without you, i can’t eat without you, i can’t live without you.” he would’ve gotten on his knees and begged if you had asked him.

you want to say no, want to close the door right there, and give yourself the satisfaction of breaking him the same way he broke you. yet, you open your door an inch wider, inviting him in.

and for the first time in weeks, he feels something close to hope.

taglist ~ @ren-ni @bungurus @kayperrysinging @cupids-diner @43hughes @babygirlboeser @makiplan @ladyatwalmart @qversazex @favbrnette @xoxosblogsblog @nothingtosee333her @soft-starr @f10werfae @bibissparkles

[ashkabbom]

Storm - Mouthwashing

A/n: It's 1am, but nothing will stop me muahahahah! Give my writing a chance and correct me if anything, English is not my first language and I had a LOT of help from the translator 🫶🏽

Versión en español en Wattpad: Libro de One Shots - Mouthwashing (Cuenta: ashkabbom)

Versão em português no wattpad: Livro de One Shots - Mouthwashing (Conta: ashkabbom)

•Pre-Crash!Captain Curly x Reader

synopsis/summary: You and Captain Curly talk a little during the night

Notes: I didn't specify the gender and I didn't talk about the relationship, it's up to you to see how you interpret it.

Drops of rain hit your window hard, thunder and lightning tormented you and took away your peace.

It was night and you were in the ship's kitchen, you couldn't sleep for some reason, but the silence and the moonlight projected on the huge screen were comforting.

Thinking of anything to occupy your mind, from how long a squirrel lives to worries about your current job, although you tried to push some of those worries out of your mind.

Somehow you got a job, only you didn't expect it to be here and like this, but it's good that you don't do much, it's good that no one got hurt and you need to take care of.

Due to sheer pressure, you ended up entering some area of medicine, although it wasn't exactly what your parents wanted, it's still something, but you would be anywhere else if you could choose for yourself.

You didn't want your parents to look at you like you had failed and disappointed them, it was horrible to feel like you were a failure, something they weren't proud of.

Do you sometimes wonder if a hospital would even accept you, would you want that? Maybe you would even do well? It's not what you want but-

"Awake at this hour?" A voice echoes lightly and a tired-looking captain is leaning against the door. You didn't even hear the door slam, you were so immersed in thought.

Captain Curly was one of the most easygoing guys you'll ever meet working at the Pony Express, and that's not to be rude, but there are very few people at that company who are easygoing with other people.

"Night snack break." You say with a shy smile, not expecting anyone to be awake at this hour either. "But someone emptied all the coffee."

He chuckles lightly before sighing, "I can't imagine who would be responsible behind such a crime." Curly rolls his eyes with a smirk on his face, then looks at you. "But something tells me that late night snack isn't what got you so focused that you didn't hear the door."

"Hmmm a captain really knows his crew apparently" You laugh a little and nod. "I was just thinking a little bit about... Everything, you know? There's a few more months to go, I think about 7 months or something and it's just as weird as it was in the beginning"

Curly listened carefully to what you said, as a captain he understood exactly what you meant.

Being in the middle of space for so long, with a group of people you're not used to, is quite something, especially for someone unfamiliar with being so far away from where they used to be.

Even he wasn't sure if this was what he wanted for himself, if this was the pinnacle of his life or if he should try something more and go beyond his comfort zone.

"So you feel like the things around you are devouring you little by little, you sink so deep into it that it's hard for you to get out. It's not bad, but you feel like it's not good." He tries to complete what was on your mind.

"You gave yourself away that you are or have been in the same boat captain" You look at him with a cheeky smile and start walking towards the couch. "or on different boats, but with the same destination"

Curly follows you right behind and also sits on the couch. You both stay in silence for a while, just looking at the moon.

"It's not the same as looking at the sky at night, but it's better than nothing I guess." You say without thinking much. It would be a lie if you said you don't miss being on earth, in your home and in the comfort of your room in your house.

"I think this when I look at the stars, it's even different when I remember that I'm in space with them, being able to see several everywhere.. Without light pollution" He says and another silence falls.

It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, quite the opposite, it was the most peaceful silence you'd had in nights. Just you, the captain and the stars, enjoying the company that each one could offer.

You look at the captain, wondering if there was anything he regretted doing in his life that brought him here.

It was no surprise that he knew what was bothering you in your thoughts, after all he is a grown man with experience in life, everyone goes through this questioning one day.

Uncertainty is what moves us sometimes.

You wonder if Jimmy is like that too, if there is anything he would do differently to be somewhere else or if he wouldn't change anything even though he might regret something...

He didn't seem much for talking about that sort of thing. Jimmy was always a mystery in his mind.

Him and Swansea. You knew very little about the two of them, but it's not like you knew much about the others anyway.

You knew that Jimmy and the captain were friends so he must not be as bitter as he seems, after all he wouldn't be where he is if he wasn't someone he could trust.

"So this is what they mean by staring into your soul" He laughs as he says this and you come out of your trance. You hadn't noticed that you weren't just looking at him out of the corner of your eye, but that you had turned your face to look at him.

You laugh at his comment. "Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude on the entrance to a man's soul." Sighing lightly you smile "Daisuke showed me a drawing of him yesterday, the boy is talented and expresses well how he sees places and people"

"Is that what you two were doing in the infirmary during lunch?" He asks curiously. "But I didn't realize you liked rock and metal, but the metalhead you drew looks nice."

"It's not a metalhead, it's Anya." You look at him like it's the most obvious thing and he's so dumb.

"Was that supposed to be Anya?!" Curly asked in disbelief.

You and he talked for a few more minutes, even though it was so late at night, maybe it would be morning in a few hours, but clearing your head at least a little was the best thing.

You yawned and realized that you were actually sleepy now. Curly yawns soon after and you both laugh lightly, agreeing that you would go to sleep now, wishing each other goodnight.

So the raindrops hit the window weaker, until they stopped completely, without thunder or lightning.

The next day you wake up dead tired, woken up by Daisuke questioning if you were still alive.

Soon you go to the kitchen together, talking a little about what you had dreamed about during the night. Anya was already there and so you and Daisuke join her, soon Jimmy and captain, arrives and-

"Whose metalhead drawing is this? It was lying on the floor" Swansea asks with the paper in his hand

"It's not a metalhead!" You hear Daisuke chuckle and you swear you heard a chuckle coming from Curly.

A/n: I had another creative peak this morning and here it is, straight from the oven. I wish I had written something with Curly before writing something with Daisuke.🫶🏽🎀

[sordidmusings]

Sanji x Reader - Face Sitting

A/N: well now I can say I got at least one (1) done so there’s that 💀 happy spooky and smutty month y’all!!! October is a phenomenal time of year I fucking LOVE Halloween with my whole heart; fav holiday hands down. Now back to the fic - like I said in my update, the aim for kinktober stuff this year is to be headcanons! This has those but honestly a lot of it reads more like a bulleted fic cuz I tend to lean to that and I like those too. I see that likely being the case for all of them. I hope you enjoy❣️

Word count: ~1.7 k

Warnings: nsfw, afab reader (I double check but if I missed things denoting fem instead, please let me know!), starts with regular eating out first then gets to the good good, he's somewhere between opla and anime, Sanji is a needy needy man, he’s got a lean towards sub in this, hair pulling, a taste of body worship cuz come on it’s Sanji, a bit descriptive on scent as I tend to be but this one’s sex smell so hopefully that’s your digs cuz it’s def Sanji’s lol, some cheesy jokes at the beginning and end

Now go my lovelies and feed the chef ヾ(●ω●)ノ

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

Sanji’s passion for good taste and no waste was something you joked to yourself about him bringing into the bedroom (you’d come to find out it’s no joke)

You thought of throwing a cheesy “hey chef can I serve you dessert” his way a non zero amount

There was also the time he’d been kept from food by circumstance til dinner, where he dug in moaning and “you look so pretty eating like that, can I feel?” sat on the tip of your tongue, but you were afraid if the words got out he’d choke on said meal and the heimlich would really spoil the whole mood

Your general caution of possibly giving the man a heart attack when you fully returned his advances often kept you barely teasing at the boundary where platonic meets romantic and sexual

However, being plagued by thoughts of his face between your thighs, flushed and grasping and moaning and whimpering, was wearing your patience very thin

It was driving your desperation to a level only Sanji ever seemed to reach upon pursuing attention from a pretty face

You were just happy yours was clearly a favorite of his and his eagerness left you with no fear of rejection, just fear that the reality would end up being some awkward jumble that would haunt you so long as you were on the Straw Hat crew

That was a hell you wanted to avoid, especially since Nami would be your own personal demon, tormenting you with teasing reminders of the encounter and the fact you expected anything else from the hopeless cook

When you finally bit the bullet, you realized that you were so so so stupid for having any fears at all

Sanji touched and tasted you like it was his reason for living

Hell, you’re pretty sure he mumbled something along those lines as he kissed and sucked his way up your thigh, but it was trapped as a personal prayer against your body, a pact between him and his new altar

He started sweet and hesitant when you first told him you wanted him to touch you and taste you, a shake of nerves and disbelief in his exploring hands

Once his mouth was on you though - first just the lightest brush of a kiss - raw need bled into his veins and pushed him to press harder, hold you firmer, breathe you deeper, taste your lips and tongue and moans

The stuttering breaths and saccharine praises set your body and heart alight, delighting in your effect on him and the tender names he gave you

“Mon coeur, I’ll treat you right, make you feel divine like you are” “You don’t have to lift a finger, darling, just please let me keep touching you” “Angel, I’ve dreamed of you but -ah- you’re s-so much more of heaven than I could’ve known”

He was all awe borne hesitation yet again when you’re fully naked and he’s stuck inches from your exposed cunt, trying to commit the beauty that shapes your body and curves and marks to memory, his fingers feather-light and twitching where they rest on the crease between your hips and legs

He watched in overwhelm as your entrance flutters around nothing in anticipation, became possessed with the need to feel that against him, around him

He took his time leaning forward with a deep inhale, eyes rolling closed in bliss at the heady smell of your dripping arousal mixing with clean skin and a faint hint of the start of fresh sweat

He reeled himself into the decorum he wanted to show you just long enough to place three loving kisses on you, starting with one on the crease of each thigh, just barely teasing your labia next to his lips with his hot breath, before planting a peck that eases into firm pressure right over your clit

Your breathless call of his name broke him

As he took his first lick of you, easing his tongue first side to side to slide between your folds and let him massage a firm stripe all the way up to then circle your clit, his blissful face turned to scrunched eyes and furrowed brows, showing how his desire and need overwhelmed him to near agony

All reservations were miles from your mind, the only thing you could think about was how well he was playing with and savoring every inch of your cunt

You’d swear he’d been with a hundred women before if you weren’t sure it was just as likely that he’d spent a questionable amount of time studying the female body

Whichever it was, him leaving nothing untouched didn’t mean he didn’t know where to focus - every grip into your thighs and gentle scratch of his short nails, every tease and lick and suck at labia was to highlight his nose pressing your clit, his fingers working you open and curling just right, his mouth lightly sucking at your clit, his tongue swirling at flicking in a dance choreographed by your reactions

It set you in a whirlwind where you forgot everything but his touch and sounds and the steady build of trembles and pulses simmering in your muscles in warning of the way your climax would grip you and have your whole body throb with buzzing heat and wailing bliss

Time even escaped you, but it was still too quick when his head popped up and not just because you could’ve kept him there forever

You would’ve protested but your breath caught at his hazy, half lidded eyes framed by pink, flushed cheeks and tousled hair. Little strands of his bangs clung to the light layer of sweat on his forehead and his panting mouth glistened obscenely with spit and slick

“More” he whispered. His pink tongue darted out to wet his lips from the heavy breaths drying them quickly. The taste had a deep hum vibrate from his chest. “I need you -hhah- I- my love, I need more of you”

You thought he meant he wanted to fuck you but- “On top of me- please” Sanji placed begging kisses to your thigh “I just- please, angel, mon coeur, I-“ his hot cheek pressed into your thigh and he looked at you through his lashes with shining eyes “Will you sit on me- my face?”

Once he’d laid back and you hovered over his face you had a moment of hesitation, despite the ravenous look he burned over your body before settling it eagerly on your pussy

That hesitation left the moment you lowered enough for his lips and tongue to get to you and his hands immediately dug into your hips and dragged you down to drown him

Sanji was even more all-encompassing than before, making sure to get a taste of every inch of you he could reach and relishing in your weight pushing down on him and helping him sink his tongue deeper into you cunt to lap at your clenching walls

He stayed just as vocal as he was before too, even with the sound having to vibrate through you before it got to your ears to leave your head buzzing as heavily as your clit

That was when both of you knew that this had to keep happening come hell or high water

Even once you spend time exploring each other in many, many other ways (Sanji had spent a lot of time brainstorming and you get to enjoy the fruits of his perversion) having you sit on his face remains a favorite

He gets as much pleasure from it as you do - just as vocal, just as reactive, just as blissed out

Sanji always takes his time enjoying you and doing all he can to please you, but it seems to deep the impulse to the point of instinct once he has your cunt clogging all his senses and your weight and warmth embracing him

He will in fact stay there until you tell him you’ve had enough

He always pulls as many orgasms as you’d like from your body, usually letting the first come at a natural and steady crescendo before toying with how fast he can have your thighs shaking beside his head again

On a rare occasion he will draw out how long it takes to make you cum, tormenting you with pleasure that makes your blood rush and your head fuzz but just not quite enough, usually when he’s needing extra attention from you, even if that means getting you to the point of frustration - he needs to know you need him

Feeling your need and feeling surrounded by it and by you is another reason he’s always wanting to be your seat - he can interact with nothing but you and your pleasure and know that it’s from him and you’re here resting your body on him and trusting your needs to him

Sanji’s hands are always very active during sex and this is no exception, he’s always pawing at your hips and thighs and ass, sometimes sneaking long fingers past your entrance to sink in deep while he catches a breath and laps at your clit

He shows you his legs aren’t the only thing on him that’s strong - endlessly pulling you closer even when you try to raise yourself for fear of suffocating him or twitching away when it’s too much in the best way, holding his hands up beside you for you to grab and use as leverage to stay upright and grind, using his grip on you to grind you against his face himself once you’re all spent muscles, made loose and languid from work and pleasure

He also LOVES that having his face buried against you always has you gripping at his hair, the sensation of the light tugging always sends sparks under his skin and he’s addicted to the way it has him feeling possessed and controlled by you when you use it to keep him still or direct him

All in all, it’s one of life’s greatest pleasures for you both and if one day someone asks you your greatest regret, you might not say this one but the answer “waiting to get with Sanji instead of asking him to be my personal throne on day one” will flash in your mind

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed 🤍

Masterlist

[nick-writes-stuff]

Back in Hell

Hwang In-ho x spouse!reader

(reader is mostly gn but is called señorita and uses the women's bathroom, so they could be impliedfem!)

Summary: You and your husband reenter the games to watch over Gi-hun and the brewing rebellion. Things take a turn after you are injured during the brawl in the bathroom.

warnings: canon-typical violence, injured/dying reader, pushy flirting?, mildly suggestive at one part, mentions of drug use, discussions of trauma/grief, hospitals, nightmares

It was an incredibly hard decision for In-ho to make regarding your safety while he went into the games to watch Gi-hun. He didn't want you anywhere near them. He knew you had played in them before, but he didn't like the idea of you going back in.

And you were okay with staying as far away from them as you could. You were hardly involved with the games at all. You avoided watching them. It all reminded you too much of your own experience.

You didn't win your games with physical prowess. You stayed off to the side, never taking too much attention from the other threats. You stayed unassuming, watching the others for weaknesses. Then to finally end the torment, you used it against them. You hated being forced into that situation. Your actions still haunted you to some extent. It was necessary for your own survival, but you didn't think you would ever get rid of the guilt.

You both knew that if it came down to it, you would be able to defend yourself in the games. There were many risks, but staying on the compound wasn't much better. The power struggles in the control rooms were starting to get concerning. He didn't fully trust the Officer. He wouldn't put it above him to try to seize control of the operation. Involving you would make that very easy. In-ho would do anything for you, even giving up his role. While he would still be unable to stop the Officer's plan, at least he would know you were safe from his machinations. Weirdly enough, being in the games was more safe than staying out for you. You didn't want to go back in, but you knew it was probably for the best.

In-ho planned to observe Gi-hun closely, while you watched from afar. He wanted to be able to connect with Gi-hun and learn about what makes him tick. You were meant to watch for anything Gi-hun would try to hide from him.

You were supposed to be distant, but Gi-hun had a habit of taking in strays. You were sitting alone after the first vote, quietly observing the others when the man walked over to you. You assumed your red badge drew him in. You hadn't done anything else to make yourself known.

“You know, you're welcome to join us if you'd like.” He offered.

You looked up at him before shaking your head. “No, I wouldn't want to intrude-” You began before getting cut off.

“We don't bite, I promise.” One of them called out, the younger man with long hair.

The others laughed, but you weren't sure if that was meant to reassure you or not. Your eyes flickered to In-ho who was in their group. He gave the smallest nod.

You nodded. “Okay.” You agreed. He gave you the slightest smile, something that actually shocked you. From all the surveillance you had done on him in the past few years, he was never close to smiling. It put you on edge a bit, just since it was so out of the ordinary.

You integrated into their group rather well despite your attempts to distance yourself. You wanted to seem distant, like you were protecting yourself emotionally from something. Despite this, the rest of the crew welcomed you warmly.

Gi-hun had invited you in because you reminded him a lot of Sae-byeok. You were highly observant and quick-witted, but you were reserved and guarded from others. You hadn't made that connection, but he had realized it almost instantly. There had been this gnawing guilt in him that thought if he had just reached out to Sae-byeok earlier, if he made more of an effort to befriend her, then maybe she would have walked out of there with him. Maybe she would have told him of her injury sooner. He didn't want to make that mistake again.

Talking with In-ho around the others was rather awkward. It felt like what couples did to spice up their romance, meeting up and pretending they don't know each other. It didn't help that you needed to call him by a different name. The only moments you truly felt comfortable were the few moments you both were alone. You would be able to talk freely with the short amount of time you had.

You never got to talk for long. You mostly shared whatever information you thought was vital for the other to know. Sometimes you would make a joke about something that had recently occurred, and In-ho would try to redirect the conversation without showing you he found it funny. He was just trying to keep focused on the task at hand.

If you were sure you were alone, you would try to steal a kiss from him. The first time you did it, In-ho was more flustered than you ever remembered him being. But he returned the favor the next time you were alone with a kiss that nearly swept you off your feet. He then immediately walked away from you, a smirk creeping onto his lips. After having to go back to the others without alerting them to your flustered demeanor, you decided to forgo your private displays of affection.

-

The first main wrench thrown in your plans involved Thanos and his promoter who you never caught the name of. Nam-su maybe? It was after the six-legged pentathlon when they approached you.

You had been sitting in your bunk eating your dinner when you noticed the pair moving toward you. You didn't acknowledge their presence intentionally, hoping they were going to someone else. They weren't.

Thanos leaned forward so he was somewhat into the space of your bunk. “Hey, señorita.” He drawled.

You finally looked up, seeming unenthused with his attempt at flirting. “Can I help you?” You asked.

“Wow, cold as ice.” Nam-gyu muttered under his breath.

Thanos ignored him, a smirk playing at his lips. “You know, I'm offering a one-way trip to Thanos World. It's free for a pretty thing like you.” He said.

You didn't react much at all. “And why should I?” You asked. Your tone wasn't outwardly negative, but it was enough for Nam-gyu's gaze to harden. He glared at you, but Thanos was still trying to work his magic.

He smiled, playing up his charm. “I saw you hanging out with some of those geezers back there,” He said, nodding toward Gi-hun, Dae-ho, Jung-bae, and ironically your husband. “They won't be able to appreciate someone like you.”

You tried not to laugh. The irony was killing you. Your husband was back there, the man couldn't appreciate you more. Plus, Thanos was implying they were considerably older than you, which wasn't the case. You were definitely a bit younger than In-ho, but it wasn't a drastic difference. But you doubted that the two in front of you were sober at the moment. Their perception was probably clouded by whatever substance Thanos was able to sneak in. It was hard not to notice them taking pills from the cross necklace Thanos had tucked under his shirt.

You decided to try to let this interaction end peacefully. Key word being try. “Um, I think I'm good. Thank you.”

Nam-gyu chuckled, covering his smirk with his hand. His gaze turned to Thanos, waiting for his friend's reaction to you.

“You know, we could have a great time together if you would switch out that badge for a blue one.” He said. He reached out to grab the X patch off your jacket.

You leaned back to evade his grasp. “Can you just back off?” You said, instinctively raising your voice. The room started to quiet down at the commotion. These two frightened you. They were unpredictable and that scared the hell out of you.

“What an ungrateful bitch.” Nam-gyu spat, glaring daggers at you.

You stood your ground. “Go fuck yourself.” You shot back, gaze hardening.

Thanos was livid. You moved back toward the wall. “That's it, I'm-”

Before he could finish his threat, he was yanked to the ground, and Nam-gyu fell back with the sound of a fist hitting his flesh.

Their forms were replaced by In-ho. He nodded toward the others in your group before turning to continue to teach them a lesson. You didn't hesitate to comply, walking behind some of the beds to get away from the fight.

When you rejoined them, you watched In-ho closely. You had faith in his abilities of course, but the two of them made you nervous. To be frank though, they got their asses handed to them. In-ho had the purple haired man pinned to the ground with a hand on his throat. He contemplated bashing his head in, but he relented and walked off toward you. The VIPs would probably get more entertainment if he was alive.

In-ho was still on edge as he returned to your group. You looked over at him, giving him a bow. “Thank you, Young-il.” You said softly, a hint of relief in your voice.

He looked over to you. “It was no problem.” He said curtly. You could see that the confrontation got under his skin, but you didn't have a way to comfort him while remaining in character.

“Y/n?” Dae-ho asked to get your attention. You turned to look at him. “What happened over there?” He asked.

You sighed. “Just two assholes not taking no for an answer.” You muttered. He gave you a knowing look.

“It was about time someone knocked them down a peg.” Jung-bae added with a chuckle. You agreed with a nod, but you didn't seem comfortable with the conversation topic.

Gi-hun noticed your anxiety. “Well, you can just stay with us from now on, okay? In the meantime, we should try to figure out what the next game could be.” He said, trying to lead the conversation elsewhere. You gave him a slight smile of gratitude

-

Later that night, you had moved into one of the empty bunks near the others. You were very close to where In-ho was sleeping, or at least you would be if he was actually sleeping. He was sitting with Gi-hun and talking under the pretense that he couldn't sleep. You couldn't either, so you didn't have anything else to do but listen in.

He told Gi-hun the story about his first wife, how she got sick while she was pregnant. Most people would probably feel uncomfortable in this situation, their current partner talking so highly about their ex lover. But you never saw it that way. From stories you have heard, she seemed like a lovely woman and a caring wife. He still grieved her and so did you in a way. It hurt you to know that he lost someone who was so important to him. You wish you could have met the person who made him so happy.

You still got a bit emotional yourself whenever he told the story, mostly on his behalf. You knew how much it pained him to remember her passing. You soothed him from the nightmares he had. You could tell he was getting emotional again. You weren't sure if it was genuine or just for show, but it was probably a mix of both.

“That's why I need the money. She is my second chance at happiness. I can't lose her. I-” He started, stopping for a moment to collect himself.

You felt your own eyes watering at his words. You knew he was talking about you with that statement and it was touching. You stayed quiet as he moved back toward his own bed.

Later on that night, you had awoken from a nightmare, jerking up like you expected someone to hurt you. That was about to happen in your dream. You had relived an experience from your games, but with Thanos and Nam-gyu replacing the players who usually haunted your mind.

“You okay?” Gi-hun asked, sitting up in his bed. You jumped slightly at the unexpected sound.

You nodded. “Yeah. Sorry if I woke you up.” You murmured softly. You didn't want to talk about it.

There were a few seconds of silence. You thought Gi-hun had gone back to sleep until you heard his voice again. “You know, I get nightmares too sometimes.” He said.

You didn't know how to respond. You were somewhat annoyed that he tried to shift the conversation topic to himself. That was just like him.

“What do you usually do to help them?” You asked. You didn't know what else to ask. You already knew what they were likely about.

He sighed softly. “You don't. Unless you have a time machine, you can't undo the events that haunt you.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “That's awfully bleak.” You said. You were almost baiting him there. You wanted to see if he would agree with you.

“The world can be that way. The trauma never leaves you, but that's not always a bad thing. It fuels me to make a difference.” He said.

You hid your disgust for the cheesiness of his statement. Of course that's something he would say. But you'd be lying if you said there wasn't a part of you that didn't find his reckless optimism inspiring. But that optimism was exactly what made him a threat.

“Hm… I never thought of it that way.” You murmured. You sighed softly. “Thank you.” You added before rolling over and begging any higher power out there to let you get some sleep.

-

Mingle served as a sign for what was to come. It was one of the most chaotic games ever included. The turnstile in the center was one of the biggest engineering projects the operation had seen. It was a horrific experience overall, and it was ironic that you and In-ho were going to be forced to endure it.

You both knew the order of the numbers in the room. There had been a protocol prepared for the occasion in case the two of you would be eliminated. Your elimination could be announced and you either would get escorted from the main game hall or the room itself depending on the situation.

It went swimmingly until the second to last round. The speakers announced the number was three. You, In-ho, and Jung-bae made your way to a yellow room. You all entered and Jung-bae slammed the door shut. But there was another man in the back of the room.

“Get out, now!” Jung-bae ordered him.

The man protested. “I was here first. I shouldn't have t-”

He was cut off by In-ho's arm around his throat.

Jung-bae yelled out, “Quick, throw him out.”

In-ho shook his head. “Shut the door.” He ordered. He tightened his grasp as he slid down the wall as the man lost consciousness.

You looked away, unable to watch the act. It reminded you too much of what you had been forced to do to survive in your games. You heard the door click shut.

You never really watched the games with In-ho. While you loved him, you never liked the brutality of the games and never got involved in them. In your time here, you had seen dozens of people die, but this was different. This was too personal. You tried to keep yourself calm, but you whimpered when you heard the sickening pop of the man's neck.

Jung-bae watched in horror, eyes wide. No words were exchanged. In-ho stood up, leaving the dead man on the ground. You all knew it needed to be done. Jung-bae looked horrified, you were in shock, and In-ho seemed indifferent.

The former marine left the room first. You looked over to your husband, exchanging a wordless glance. You both knew the next part of the plan. The next number was 2, and you both would get the room together.

You met up with the rest of your group. It didn't seem like Jung-bae had told anyone else about what happened in the room. Maybe he accepted it was necessary.

Gi-hun spoke first. “What number do you think is next?”

“Two.” In-ho answered.

You looked over at him, trying not to seem too concerned. Did he really just give that information up? “What makes you say that?” You asked, the slightest warning in your voice.

He didn't seem phased. Maybe he had done it on purpose to seem smart, or maybe he was just good at improvising.

“There's 125 people now. There's 50 rooms. They must want an even 100 for the next round.” He said.

Gi-hun seemed a bit confused with that explanation, but no one had the chance to question him as the merry-go-round started to spin. The music blared over the speakers. Could they have picked a more annoying music track?

When the number 2 was announced, In-ho grabbed your hand without hesitation. The two of you made haste toward a room, narrowly closing the door before another pair were planning to force their way in.

One the doors were locked, you wrapped your arms around him, taking a shaky breath. He embraced you almost instantly, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“I can't do this anymore, I can't.” You said, trying not to lose all of your compawosure. You flinched in his arms when the gunshots echoed through the game hall.

He shushed you quietly. “We're almost done, okay? We're set to get out of here before the next game, remember?”

That wasn't soon enough for you and he knew that.

You took in his presence for a moment longer. It had been so long since he was able to comfort you like this. As Young-il, he was limited in what he could do because everyone else thought he had a wife at home, not at his side currently. You took a deep breath before pulling away with a nod.

“I love you.” He said quietly, like the words were only meant for you to hear.

“I love you too.” You murmured.

The doors unlocked and swung open. Any feelings lingering from your outburst were left in the room.

You tried to believe him. This was all almost over. All that was left was the voting, right?

You thought that was the case until Gi-hun had mentioned his plan to take over the games. You exchanged a nervous glance with In-ho. You both knew it was a possibility. There was a plan in place, but there were a lot of variables to consider, mostly the other players.

In-ho seemed to be on board with Gi-hun's plan, willing to do what it takes to stop the games once and for all. In reality you knew it was so he would be able to get out of the dorms and back into the control rooms.

You meanwhile were a bit skeptical, but you didn't voice your concerns about it. Your plan in case of a coup attempt had always been to find a way to sneak out after the main group leaves. You didn't intend on aiding them at all, just getting your way to the staff only section of the building as soon as possible.

You eventually stood up, saying that you were going to go use the restroom. In reality, you were just going to go clear your head. You just needed a second to breathe and remind yourself of the plan in place. You needed a clear head for this.

Any chance you had at composing yourself was gone once you heard the commotion in the men's room. It sounded like the whole room erupted into fighting and screaming. You heard a loud crash that you were unsure of the cause of.

As much as you wanted to just hide in the bathroom, you decided that was probably a mistake. You had already put a target on your back ever since you stood your ground when Thanos was bothering you. The Os did not like you whatsoever. If one of them saw you had gone in there alone, you were stuck in there. The only exit would be easily blocked and you'd be trapped.

Running out of the room would be just as risky. You didn't know what you were walking into or who would be waiting for you. But it was also the only chance you had of getting back. You took a shaky breath and tried to shake the tension from your limbs. Your hand trembled slightly as you reached for the know. Now or never.

You swung the door open and took a step outside of it only to be met with an already bloodied O player. His face was splattered with blood and his hands were covered in it. His face contorted into a sick grin upon seeing the red badge on your jacket. You moved to evade him but he shoved you into the wall.

Before you could make a sound, the man drove some sharp implement into your lower abdomen. You let out a restrained scream before the man in front of you was stabbed in the neck with one of the forks from your dinner. Another X player pulled the fork out of him, causing some of his blood to spurt out of the wound and onto your skin. Each drop felt like acid as you realized what just happened. “Go on, go!” Your savior had yelled before getting attacked himself.

You looked down at your wound, seeing a shard of the mirror sticking out. The crash you heard must have been the mirror shattering. It wasn't a very wide piece, but it appeared to be rather deep. Blood oozed from it slowly, likely hindered by the glass itself closing some of the blood vessels.

You zipped your jacket to hopefully hide the wound from most of the players in the dorms. You entered the room with a blank expression, walking toward your group as normally as you could manage.

You probably could have hid it too if players weren't following you out of the hall, yelling about the brawl in the bathroom.

In-ho watched you closely, concern growing with every moment. Your breathing was shallow as every breath felt like the shard was plunging deeper. Your arm was pressed against your side, hoping to conceal the wound from the other players.

Once you got close enough, In-ho spoke. “Hey, are you okay?” He asked. He knew the answer. You obviously weren't okay. He could see the tears welling in your eyes.

You shook your head slightly, biting back tears. Your hands shook as you grabbed the hem of your jacket and shirt, lifting it with a grimace. You exposed the wound to them, the cold air stinging somewhat.

There were different reactions from each of the members of your alliance. In-ho was seething. You could see that he wanted to find whoever did it and make sure they were dead. But he didn't. He couldn't. If he reacted that strongly, it would seem out of place. People would question him and he couldn't lose their trust if Gi-hun was going to attempt to carry out his plan.

Dae-ho seemed almost queasy. He had seen so many others die in these games, but there was something different when it was someone close to him.

Gi-hun's eyes seemed far away. He wasn't seeing you, he was seeing the scared young girl that had been haunting his mind. Your injury was almost identical to hers. You hadn't recognized the comparison until you saw his reaction.

Jung-bae and Jun-hee were concerned and were starting to think about ways to help you. You couldn't observe their reactions much longer as you felt your legs start to give out underneath you.

In-ho was at your side in an instant, strong arms wrapped around your form to keep you upright. “Hey, it's okay. Let me help you down.” He murmured. He was restraining himself from spilling out all of the words on his heart. He lowered you gently, sitting you on the ground.

Jung-bae was grabbing a bedsheet to help pack the wound as Jun-hee offered a piece of advice. “Should we take it out?” She asked, referring to the glass shard.

Every other person disagreed quickly. She sheepishly muttered an apology. In-ho tried not to seem annoyed by her. He knew she was trying to help, but he couldn't help but be frustrated.

What annoyed him more was Gi-hun trying to get them to hide under the beds. You, Gi-hun, and In-ho all knew the protocol. They would allow just enough bloodbath to be entertaining without taking out too much competition, then they would storm the room.

In-ho turned to snap at him, to tell him that now wasn't the time, but you stopped him by grabbing his wrist gingerly with your hand. You looked up into his dark eyes. There was a storm of emotion flooding through his mind.

“Young-il, it's okay. Jun-hee can help me. They need you out there.” You said softly. Your words had multiple meanings. You weren't talking about the players, although the others would assume that. You were talking about the soldiers that needed his direction to deal with this situation. There had never been a crisis of this caliber. Not since Jun-ho, but even Jun-ho's infiltration of the compound was harmless compared to what Gi-hun was planning. They needed the frontman more than you needed your husband.

He didn't say anything. He couldn't. The only words that wanted to leave his lips was I love you and he couldn't. It was killing him. At least he felt like it was. He felt like someone was crushing his lungs. He couldn't breathe. Panic was surging through his veins but he needed to hide it.

What if you died? What if he left you here and you succumbed to your wound? He didn't think he could live with himself. He couldn't lose you too.

He stood up without a word, but it killed him inside. Every step he took was another pile of dirt over your coffin in his mind.

Gi-hun's plan was appearing to go smoothly. You knew it wouldn't be for long. The soldiers who went into the room were given very limited ammo in case a player would get hold of their guns.

They had soldiers waiting for their signal to crush the rebellion quickly. There were hardly any soldiers in the halls. They wanted to give Gi-hun some false hope. A sense of security. Just to watch it crumble.

Every decision Gi-hun made was something they had prepared for. It didn't matter what they did. This was predetermined to fail from the start.

-

For what it was worth, Jun-hee was trying to help you as much as she could. She was nervous to do much of anything with your wound. She let you hold the sheet against it, not wanting to hurt you at all.

Some of the others who you had associated with briefly were flocking to you. Most of the room had their eyes on you. You tried not to allow it to make you nervous, but it did. Being injured in the games was basically a death sentence. If you didn't die from the injury itself, you were likely going to be picked off since you were now an easy target. Even worse, right now your greatest protectors were nowhere near you. You had to rely on people you barely associated with before Mingle at all. They seemed nice, but you were wary.

You didn't want so much attention. You wanted to be able to slip out of the room undetected. You wanted to be able to get to the staff halls to get the help you desperately needed.

You got your chance to do so when Dae-ho ran back into the dorms for the second time. He was inconsolable, panicking about whatever was happening. You knew it was probably trauma from his time in the Marines. While attention was on him, you forced yourself to stand up, whimpering at the pain it caused.

The older woman heard you. She moved toward you, hand resting on your shoulder gently. “What do you think you're doing? You'll only hurt yourself more.” She fussed, her motherly nature shining through.

You shrugged her off, starting to walk toward the door. “They need that ammo.” You said through gritted teeth.

“Are you insane? You're injured enough. Sit.” She demanded.

You ignored her, her protests only filling you with more determination. You needed out of here. They wanted you to stay because they thought it would be saving you, when it was going to kill you. They didn't know that you had a five minute walk to some of the best doctors in Korea. You could feel your blood start to soak through your clothes. You didn't have enough time for this.

“Y/N, wait!” Jun-hee yelled, voice breaking slightly. You turned to look at her. You did feel bad for the girl. She deserved better than to be here. Her and her unborn child. You knew you were one of the last of her main allies in the room. You'd be leaving her alone.

You took a shaky inhale before speaking. “I'm gonna die here anyway. I may as well try to help the cause.” You said, voice cracking with a sob. You were crying from the pain and frustration. They were stopping you from getting help, and you were getting annoyed even though they had no idea.

No one said anything. They knew you were right. You took your leave.

Your pulse pounded in your ears as you made your way through the halls. The neon colors blended together as your vision started to blur. Fuck. You didn't have time for this. You stumbled over the makeshift bag of ammo. You had half the notion to take it with you so they couldn't have it at all, but you didn't think you could get back up if you bent down.

You kept one arm pressed to your wound while the other helped you keep your balance by trailing along the wall. Your sleeve was covered in blood. The warm liquid made the fabric cling to your skin. You could smell the metallic scent of your own blood and it made you sick to your stomach.

Your vision started narrowing as you neared the staff exit. “No, no, no.” You murmured, words slurring slightly. You can't die here. You can't do that to In-ho. He didn't deserve that. It would crush him. You desperately tried to resist the impending doom of losing consciousness.

You took a deep breath before sliding down the wall, sitting on the floor, arms wrapped around your middle. You leaned your head against the wall.

You hoped he would forgive you.

-

In-ho maintained himself the best he could in the situation. The panic was still there, but he was able to push it down for the time being.

He was just so sick of dealing with the players right now. His annoyance caused him to be even colder once he officially gave up the act (if that was even possible).

He killed the two players with him without hesitation, using the radio to taunt Gi-hun and make it sound like Young-il died with them. Watching the man take his last breaths while revealing his true identity was exhilarating, but he didn't have time to revel in it.

He made his way to the control room. He didn't pay too much attention to the other guards and soldiers. He needed to finish this without thinking about anything else. If he lost focus, he would break down.

His hands fumbled with the mask as he put it on. The mask made him feel suffocated, like he couldn't breathe. He wanted to rip it off and forget it ever existed and leave to find you, but he still had a role to play here.

He didn't think to tell the managers to find you, because he thought you were still in the dorms. He couldn't have them go into the room and escort you out, that would be a huge violation of policy. He would figure out how to get you out of there soon, but right now he needed to quell the rebellion.

And that he did. With a few remarks to Gi-hun and a bullet for Jung-bae, the rebellion was officially taken care of. The soldiers with him restrained and took Gi-hun to a safe place. There the VIPs could decide what to do with him. It was of little concern to In-ho now.

He made his way into the control room as quickly as he could. On his way, he began to hear elimination announcements over the loudspeaker. He knew your number wouldn't be called in that scenario, but it still put him on edge.

When he returned to his rightful place, the announcements had slowed. He started to scan the cameras of the dorms, hoping to see any sign of you, any sign that you were still alive. But he didn't find that from the camera.

“Sir,” someone called out from the sea of square masks, “There's another player in the halls.”

He turned, walking over to the man's monitor. It was you.

He would have rather seen you in the dorms. Blood had smeared down the wall as you slid down it, so he at least knew you didn't fall. He couldn't even tell if you were conscious. If you were alive. Were these pixels on the screen going to be the last time he sees you alive?

“Send a medical team there. I'll explain to them.” He said, turning on his heel to leave the room.

“What's the point? Just kill them like the rest.” One of the circle guards muttered.

The thudding of boots on the tiles stopped suddenly. In-ho turned, the blank eyes of his mask boring holes into the man's soul.

One of the other guards with him muttered something like “You fucking idiot.” They had all been told. They all knew that you were to be protected in the games. Whether his comment was genuine forgetfulness or disdain, it still pissed In-ho off.

His gloved hand hovered over the holster for his pistol. He hesitated for a split second. He wanted to end him right then or at least a lecture to make an example out of him. If he hadn't been around to correct the mistake, the guard could have killed you.

But his concern for you overpowered his thirst for vengeance. He didn't have time for that. The guard wasn't worth it. If you died and he had wasted even a second, he would never forgive himself.

He continued walking, taking long paces through the halls. He knew where he was going even after seeing just the view of the camera. He knew this place like the back of his hand.

He was kneeling in front of you in an instant, fingers fumbling with his mask to take it off. He didn't want that stupid mask to possibly be the last thing you ever see.

His hand reached out to touch your arm gently. “Love, wake up. Please, wake up.” He said, voice trembling slightly. He was just so scared. His heart was pounding in his chest with an intensity he had never experienced before.

He didn't want to shake you to wake you up. That would probably hurt like hell. His shaking hand moved from your arm to caress your cheek. “Open your eyes, please. I need you to wake up.”

He thought he imagined the flutter in your eyes for a moment. When it happened again, he knew it was real. “Hey, there you are. Open your eyes for me.” He said. His voice felt raw, like he could barely make out any words.

Your eyes slowly opened, looking around lazily until you comprehended he was with you. He pulled his hand away, almost like he hurt you.

Your eyes welled with tears. You were scaring the shit out of him and you knew it. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't-” You stuttered out through your tears.

He shushed you quietly. “Hey, hey, you're okay. You're fine. You're gonna be okay.” He said, his voice soft as if the words were only for you to hear.

You couldn't stop yourself from crying. Your hands were covered in your own blood. Your head felt fuzzy, like you weren't fully there. It terrified you. Were you dying? No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't fight off the feeling forever.

“Where's those damned medics?” He muttered, glancing up and down the hallways. He was going to have a stern talking to them after you were patched up. Because you had to be patched up. You were going to be fine. His mind couldn't accept it any other way.

Your vision started to blur once again. You were so tired. “I love you.” You said, your voice seeming far away from you.

His eyes darted back to you. “No, don't say that. You can tell me later when you get better. You aren't going anywhere.” He said, voice almost frantic. You weren't going to die. You couldn't. His breathing grew shallow.

You shook your head. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I can't.” You murmured.

He felt a tear roll down his cheek. When did he start crying?

You lifted your hand, holding his face in your hand and wiping the tear with your thumb. It left a slight smear of your blood with it. “I love you.” You said stronger, like you were forcing the words out.

He took in a shuddering breath, leaning into your touch. “I love you too.” He said softly. Saying it felt like he was giving up. He felt like he was almost giving you permission to die now that you had said your goodbyes.

But he would have never forgiven himself if he hadn't told you. He needed you to know that.

He heard footsteps, faint at first but then almost thundering. Or maybe it was the pounding of his heart echoing in his ears.

“Sir.” A square guard called. He looked over instinctively without the mask. When he realized and looked back to you, your eyes had fluttered shut.

His instinct was to fret over you, to beg you to come back. But his rationality overpowered that. You needed medical attention and he knew that.

He took a deep breath before pulling his mask on and standing up. “They have a shard of glass in their stomach. It's been there since the Special Game.” He said curtly. He couldn't say anything else. He just let the doctors take control of the situation.

-

He wasn't sure how he ended up in the suite. He didn't even know how long it had been since you had been picked up by the medics. There wasn't any alcohol involved either, just the torment of his own thoughts distracting him from reality.

He had been sitting on the couch in front of the screens that typically showed a live feed of the games. He had shut them off, however. Fuck the games. He couldn't give less of a shit. You were dying because of the games and it's his fault. Everything is his fault.

With them turned off, he was left alone in the dimly lit room. The only light was the pale moonlight bleeding through the blinds on the windows, but he couldn't bring himself to close them nor turn the lights on.

He was trapped in a cycle of torture from his own thoughts. He went from denying there was any chance you wouldn't make it to grieving your seemingly inevitable death and giving up hope.

He was spiraling hard although no one would be able to tell by looking at him. He was quiet and still, staring ahead at the blank screens before him. But you could see the storm in his eyes as his mind waged war against itself.

This was all his fault, wasn't it? He killed you. He may as well have been the one to stab you. The games were his doing. He never should have dragged you into this. That applied to re-joining the games as well as introducing you to the behind the scenes realm. You didn't deserve this kind of life.

The only thing that had pulled him out of his spiral was the shrill sound of the phone cutting through the silence.

His feet moved without him realizing. He answered the phone wordlessly, just picking up the receiver and holding it up.

“Sir?” A voice came through.

“What?” His voice rang hollow.

He could hear the guard clear his throat, unsure of how to react. “They are stable. You can come see them in the medbay wh-”

He put down the receiver without warning. He grabbed the polygonal mask that had sat forgotten on the coffee table. He slipped the mask over his face. The only good thing this facade could achieve was hiding the distress and grief that seemed to be etched into his face.

-

When you woke up, you found your husband asleep in a chair by your side. His head was tilted back against the wall. He looked almost peaceful. You had half the notion to find your phone to take a picture. Despite the circumstances, it would make an adorable lock screen.

From looking outside the small window, you could tell it was early afternoon. By your best estimate, the Special Game and subsequent revolution happened around 10:30 at night, so you had clearly been out for a while.

You looked back over to him. He looked like he really needed sleep, so you decided not to wake him up. You really didn't want to move, so you sat there in silence. The only noises were the faint beeping of the heart monitor you were hooked up to and the soft breathing of your husband beside you.

After a few minutes, you noticed his muscles tense up. You could see his jaw clench as his breathing grew shallow. He was clearly having a nightmare.

“In-ho?” You called out. Your throat was sore, like your voice had been left unused. You knew it was likely due to a breathing tube for surgery. You called out his name once more with no response.

You took a breath, preparing yourself for the stupid decision you were about to make. You leaned toward him, grimacing at the pain in your side as you did. You tapped his shoulder a few times until you saw him stir.

You said his name again, and as he woke up, your voice flooded him with relief. You were okay. You weren't dead. Seeing you like this, in a hospital bed hooked up to an IV and heart monitor, it shook him to his core.

You reminded him of her.

He remembered when he got a call from the hospital while he was on patrol. He remembered rushing into the emergency room in a panic, hardly being able to articulate his words. He was led into her room to see her unconscious in the bed. After the games, he came back to find her and their unborn child dead lying in that same bed.

The image was burned into his mind. He felt like he could see her whenever he closed his eyes. He could see her in the faces of some players as they lay motionless on the ground, just betrayed by someone closest to them.

Now her image began mixing with yours. He felt like bringing you into this world was a betrayal itself, but he didn't think the guilt of leaving you behind in the dorms would ever dissipate. The grief he felt for her, that he still feels for her, bled into the current situation and overwhelmed him.

“What are you doing? Lay back.” He scolded you slightly, just worried about your injury. It was just his nature to fret over you.

You laughed slightly as you leaned back in the back. “I thought you'd be happy to see me.” You said, a slight smirk flickering across your face.

He seemed unamused by your statement, rolling his eyes, but you could see the smile breaking through his facade.

You had plenty of questions. About your own condition, about your former allies, and about the games in general. But you felt there was a more pressing issue.

“Am I allowed to eat? I'm starving.” You complained. Neither of you had eaten anything substantial in days. The games started with some decent food on the first night, but the last few meals had just been milk and bread for the most part.

He smiled slightly. “I had the kitchen staff already gathering the ingredients for your favorite.” He started to stand up, intending on heading down there himself to retrieve it.

“Do you have to go?” You asked. The words were left unsaid, but you didn't want to be alone right now. You were in pain and still somewhat in shock from the experience you had.

He paused, turning toward you. “I'm just going to step out to make a call to get someone to bring it up.”

You narrowed your eyes slightly. “Why can't you do it here?” You pressed. You were mostly joking with him.

He sighed as if he had been found out. “I was also going to surprise you with a juice box from the staff fridge. Is that a good enough reason?” He replied, voice staying neutral but you could tell he was playing along.

You pretended to think for a moment. “Yeah, that's fine. Don't worry, I'll still act surprised.” You said.

He laughed, a sound that gave you some semblance of calm at the moment. You hadn't heard it much in days.

He shook his head as he walked toward the door. You were going to be the end of him someday.