#link didn’t catch all of that

[skyward-floored]

Comes a few months after Volga is freed. He’s mostly been recovering quietly by himself, and trying to wrap his head around the whole wow I have a son thing. Until Ganondorf shows up, that is.

————————————————————

The wind is warm under Volga’s wings, a breeze from the distant desert helping him stay aloft. The night itself is cold though, sharpening the stars and brightening the moon, and Volga’s breath huffs out in clouds of steam.

He gives his wings another flap, then angles them downwards, steering towards the smoke he’d been following. He wouldn’t say relief is the word for what he feels when he sees the army encampment below, but he is glad to have finally located it.

After a week of searching, he was starting to think he would never find the place.

Volga drops to the ground and shifts back into a human, deciding walking is the best approach. Less screaming then flying over in his other form would result in, anyway.

Not that it much matters as he walks up. The guard outside isn’t happy to see him in any sense of the word, despite him not appearing as a dragon, and he jumps straight into the air at the sight of Volga approaching from the shadows.

He fumbles not to drop his weapon, and Volga rolls his eyes. Bumbling idiot. “I need to speak to your general.”

“Y-you’re not permitted here,” the guard trembles out, pointing a spear at him. “Leave, or I’ll sound the alarm!”

Volga huffs out an annoyed breath, smoke trailing into the air. “I said, I need to speak to your General.”

The guard pales, but remarkably holds his post. “You’re not allowed here, I’ve seen what you can do, dragon, what you’ve destroyed. Leave this place!”

Embers accompany the smoke this time.

“Do you really think you have a chance of stopping me?” Volga growls, thoroughly annoyed. The soldier pales further. “If I so wished it you would be nothing but ashes where you stand.”

The poor guard looks as if he’s about to faint, and Volga is about to force his way past, but they’re both interrupted by a set of approaching steps. The figure they belong to sends relief over the soldier’s face, but when Volga looks over, all he feels is an odd twisting in his chest.

Impa stands before him, her red eyes narrowed.

“Volga,” she says in a unreadable voice, several unspoken words layered underneath. “What are you doing here?”

“I sensed darkness over Hyrule. I wasn’t keen on a repeat of the sorceress,” he replies dryly. “I came to see what you were doing about it.”

He pauses, and glances at the guard before meeting Impa’s eyes.

“...I would prefer to speak with you in private.”

The guard looks equally alarmed and offended as he makes to speak, but Impa waves a hand to silence whatever idiocy is sure to come out of his mouth. “Follow me. I know a spot.”

Volga smirks and the guard glowers, but Impa ignores them both, leading Volga past the camp entrance and away to a small copse of trees. It’s sheltered, but not so much that they won’t see any danger if it arises, and Volga nods approvingly as Impa stops and turns to face him.

“Why are you here? How did you find us?” she demands, the moon highlighting the shadows under her eyes.

Volga blinks, and looks down at her. “I was not lying. I did sense a darkness, and don’t want another after what came of it last time. I came to get some answers. And perhaps provide some information.”

He looks up at the sky, gaze trailing along the stars, then back at Impa. She waves him on to explain with her arms crossed, and he clears his throat.

“After I realized something was amiss, I headed for your castle. I found it overrun by monsters, and I wasn’t certain of what caused it, or what happened to you or the Hero. I’ve been looking for you for days.”

Impa gets a strange look on her face, and despite her haggard appearance, Volga can’t help but think she looks quite lovely in the moonlight. It makes the white of her hair practically glow, and she looks comfortable in the shadows it casts, like she was made for them.

Volga mentally gives himself a shake. Stop that.

“I sensed darkness,” he continues, “of a similar vein to the sorceress’s, and that sent me off to find information. I found none, except for the remains of battle and the location of your camp, finally. What is going on?”

Impa sighs, looking even more wearied.

“...Ganondorf was properly freed,” she says finally, her voice grave, “and mounted a swift attack on us. We attempted to stop him, but we were caught off guard by the power he possessed.”

A bird calls somewhere in the woods, and they both still at the noise before recognizing it poses no threat.

Impa continues. “His monsters have overtaken the castle, and he himself has taken all three pieces of the Triforce. One from Lana, one from Princess Zelda. One... one from Link.”

The news makes something in Volga’s chest tighten, and something must show on his face, because Impa continues.

“Link is... fine. He fought admirably against Ganondorf, but it was not enough. His piece of the Triforce was taken, and Ganondorf disappeared. Our plan is to head to the desert to look for him, but we’re taking it slow for now, and gathering our strength. It’s a miracle Link and the princess weren’t more injured...” she murmurs, trailing off.

“He was injured?” Volga asks quickly, and Impa nods, the information making that strange feeling increase in Volga’s middle.

Though why should he care so much? He’s barely even talked to the boy, it’s not like he should care if he was injured.

And yet...

“Yes, but not seriously,” Impa continues, and Volga shakes himself, again. “He has had to recover though. He and the princess both. We were forced to retreat, and barely made it away. It was fortunate we made it as far, and with as many men, as we did,” Impa sighs, voice weary.

Volga looks at her again, appearance haggard, eyes weary, a few bandages peeking from under her clothes. She’s obviously exhausted, and been through a lot, and Volga feels a flicker of protectiveness at seeing his mate in such a state.

...He’s pretty sure he lost the right to feel that way though, so he drops it along with the other feelings trying to bother him.

(Except for the anger at Ganondorf for doing this. That he will hold onto.)

“...May I see him?” he finds himself asking. “Link?”

Impa hesitates, eyes trailing across his face.

Then she nods.

(...)

Impa leads Volga out of the trees and through their camp, keeping to shadows in order to hide his presence.

It’s almost surreal having him sneak behind her, smelling the smokey scent he brings with him wherever he goes. It reminds her sharply of when they would sneak around together all those years ago, trying to find a place with at least some privacy, ducking behind corners to avoid noisy gorons, and sharing a quick kiss.

Impa’s cheeks flush without her permission, and she shoves those thoughts aside. She needs to focus on the now.

Volga follows her through camp with nearly-equal stealth, and they reach the tent where Link is without issue. Impa slips inside, Volga behind her, and before either of them can do anything, Princess Zelda is halfway off her seat holding a sword in her hand.

Volga doesn’t look terribly alarmed at the blade pointing at his neck, but Zelda’s face is stern and unmoving as he looks at him.

“Impa,” she asks, eyes trained on Volga, “why is he here?”

“He wants to see Link,” Impa explains, and Zelda lowers her sword a hair when she sees Volga’s hand is nowhere near his spear.

“Are you sure?”

“I will watch him,” Impa promises, and Zelda looks between her and Volga in silence.

Something changes in her gaze as she looks at them, and Impa can practically see the gears turning in her head, her gaze resting on Link before moving back to his parents.

“Good,” Zelda replies, voice unusually serious. Then makes to leave the tent.

She catches Impa’s arm before she goes though, and Impa raises an eyebrow.

“Link pushed himself too far earlier,” Zelda murmurs, soft enough that Volga won’t hear. “He reopened the wound on his chest, and had to have another potion. He won’t admit it, but he’s exhausted, so please don’t wake him.” A faint smirk appears on Zelda’s face. “If you two argue, take it outside.”

“We will,” Impa promises with a quiet snort. She squeezes Zelda’s unbandaged shoulder. “Go get some rest, princess.”

Zelda nods, and with one last careful look at Volga, leaves the tent to return to her own.

Impa is left alone with her family.

She returns her attention to the other occupants of the tent, ignoring the fuzzy feeling in her eyes. It’s ridiculously late (or perhaps early), so Impa isn’t surprised to see Link completely sacked out on his cot, his blanket falling off his shoulder as he snores. With his injuries heightening his exhaustion, it’s no wonder he doesn’t hear them enter, nor Zelda leave.

Impa watches as Volga hovers a bit awkwardly by his bedside, fingers tapping on his crossed arms. He steps closer, Impa tensing on instinct, but then he simply adjusts Link’s blanket so it won’t fall off, setting it back over his shoulder.

Volga hesitates for a moment with his hand still outstretched, and then he places a hand on Link’s head, an unreadable look on his face.

A faint sigh escapes their son’s lips, and he turns into the hand in his sleep, his expression easing. Volga swallows, then slips his hand away again.

He’s silent for several long moments.

“You never sent word to me there was a child.”

Impa swallows, and looks down at Link.

“I know. I should have. I was afraid,” she admits quietly, “of what might have happened if the message fell into the wrong hands again. And truth be told... I was still angry at you. I thought you wouldn’t care.”

Volga looks over and meets her eyes, a truly hurt look crossing his face. “Of course I would care. I was a prideful idiot back then, but I was not so far gone that I would not have cared for a hatchling. Our hatchling.”

He pauses for a second.

“...did he hatch?”

“No eggs were involved,” Impa says dryly. “Trust me.”

Volga’s mouth twitches into something that might be amusement, but it’s gone too fast for her to be sure.

Link breathes out a little more loudly in his sleep, and Volga’s expression suddenly hardens as he watches him.

“You should have told me you were expecting before you left,” he says. There’s a sharp bite to his voice that wasn’t there before, one that makes Impa bristle. “You couldn’t at least have told me of his existence?”

“Excuse me? I didn’t know before I left,” Impa replies, equally sharp. How dare he? “Do you truly think I would have hidden it from you? I am not that petty, Volga. I would have told you as soon as I knew, but I could not leave my duties, and I had no way of safely contacting you.”

She can’t help but glare at him. “You could always have tried to find me.”

“I have my own responsibilities I could not desert, and I had no reason to try and find you,” Volga snaps. “I didn’t know you were expecting. How could I have?”

“I already told you I had no way of safely letting you know!”

“You could have tried harder! You’re telling me that in all years that have gone by you had no way to tell me anything?!”

“I was busy, Volga! The King and Queen both died! And I did try! It didn’t work!”

Link lets out a mumble in his sleep, and Impa and Volga both go silent as he shifts a little, staying quiet for a few long moments after he stills.

Impa sneaks a look at Volga, and is surprised to see the fire that had been building in his eyes fading. And when he speaks, his voice holds less of a bite.

“I know. I was still mad at you as well,” he admits quietly. “I don’t know what I would have done if you had contacted me. And then it had been so many years, so many more than I’d realized, and Cia...”

He cuts himself off, and crosses his arms again, looking almost... remorseful.

Impa swallows, something twisting in her chest, and Link murmurs again from his bed. Her and Volga both go silent again, watching as he shifts under his blankets, nuzzling sleepily into his pillow.

“...I am sorry,” Impa says quietly. “For keeping him from you. Even though it was never my intention.”

“The blame is not... yours alone,” Volga murmurs in reply.

Her eyebrows raise in surprise, something a little warmer settling in Impa’s chest at the words despite the anger and awkwardness of the situation, and the frankly unwelcome emotions it’s stirring up. They haven’t spoken this much in years, and Volga certainly wouldn’t have admitted to any blame in the matter back then.

Perhaps... he’s changed.

Maybe we both have.

The silence stretches between them, not exactly uncomfortable, but then Volga’s expression shifts suddenly, like he’s realized something, and he looks at Impa with suspicion in his eyes.

“...Again?”

“What?” she asks, and Volga’s frown deepens.

“You said you were afraid to send word to me, in case a message fell into the wrong hands again,” he says, voice sharpening. “And you keep talking about safety. Something happened, didn’t it?”

Impa’s mind is jerked back to memories she tries not to dwell on, shattering glass and shadows, terror thick in her throat as she’d heard a baby’s cry.

She exhales, and crosses her arms.

“Yes. A great many things, in fact,” Impa begins quietly. “Do you remember that lieutenant you bested the first night we arrived in Eldin? The one with the dark hair and the scar on his neck, who always seemed to interrupt us when we tried to be together?”

Volga snorts derisively, but Impa can see the anger in his eyes. “Yes. Narrow-minded idiot that he was. Seemed to view dragons as mere beasts, instead of intelligent beings. I recall him trying to bring up the uselessness of discussing a treaty with an animal.”

Impa swallows. “Yes. Well it seems he held a grudge. I don’t know how he figured it out— perhaps he saw us together one too many times, I truly don’t know— but he must have been stalking me after I returned home, and got ahold of a letter I had sent. He discovered the fact that I had had a son by you, and then...”

“What?” Volga demands.

Impa breathes out a sigh.

“...He attempted to kill Link. And me. He broke into where I was staying, along with a small group, and tried to murder us both,” she admits quietly. “We were very lucky... and that’s when I decided I could not raise Link myself. Not if there was any chance it could happen again. And that is why I never sent word to you either.”

Volga goes almost eerily still as she speaks, his eyes narrowing into thin slits.

His gaze shifts to Link as she finishes, their son still peacefully slumbering on, and smoke trails from his nostrils as his hands clench into fists.

“How dare he,” he whispers in a voice practically dripping with venom.

He growls, flames licking at his lips, and Impa clears her throat, gesturing rather pointedly at Link. “Keep it down,” she reminds quietly, and Volga silences his growl, though the anger does not fade from his eyes. Impa has a feeling if he were in his dragon form, his tail would be lashing.

“How dare that worm—”

“He’s been dead for a long time, so there’s no use in planning revenge,” Impa says as Volga fumes. “And the rest of his group was dealt with as well. There is nothing more to be done, calm down.”

“He tried to murder my mate and son, I will not calm down,” Volga snarls, and Impa startles at the intensity of his words. “He tried to murder you and I’m learning of it years too late to do anything, and that—”

He hisses and turns away from her and Link both, shoulders stiff as he stands in silence.

“I’m supposed to protect my mate,” he murmurs finally, voice still holding a growl. “And I was not there to do so. Because I was mad at you.”

His voice drops to one so quiet Impa can barely make out what he says next.

“I’m a fool.”

Impa stays silent, unsure of how to respond.

Then, almost of their own accord, her feet pad across the floor, and she sets a light hand on Volga’s shoulder.

“If you’re a fool, then so am I,” she says quietly. “I could have tried harder to reach out to you by other methods, yet I was too scared to. You did not know, Volga. You can’t stop that which you are unaware of.”

Volga’s eyes stay closed, but he doesn’t shake her arm off. “I abandoned my responsibility towards you.”

“As did I,” Impa whispers. “Volga, we... we’re both at fault. This whole situation, it was just... too many impossible decisions. We both made mistakes. But Link is alive, and both of us are as well. Dwelling on what you could have done had you known will solve nothing.”

Volga breathes out a small huff, and looks back at her, his eyes still angry. He looks calmer than he did though, and his gaze trails over her face, almost like he’s searching for something.

He must not find it, for he looks away from her, and Impa tries to ignore the odd pang of disappointment it brings as he turns to look back at Link.

“He has your face,” he murmurs eventually, watching their son sleep. “I didn’t notice before. His features match yours quite closely.”

“I always thought he resembled you more,” Impa says in reply, going with the attempt of changing the subject. They both need time to think about what they’ve just discussed. “He has your hair, and eyes.”

“Hmm... not entirely. My hair is darker than his. I think yours had a bit of influence in that regard.”

Impa studies the strands of Link’s hair she can most easily see, and nods consideringly. It’s true Link’s hair is a bit paler than the typical hylian blond— compared to Zelda’s, the difference is even more obvious. It’s fortunate he didn’t receive the fully white hair of the Sheikah, or his resemblance to Impa might have been too obvious to hide.

“That’s true. I guess his looks are both of ours,” she says more quietly again.

“He really is our son,” Volga murmurs.

The words sit heavy in the air, the reminder that Link is theirs, a son neither of them raised, but connected to them both by blood and the brief union they shared.

One that... neither of them has technically broken.

Volga must be having the same thoughts Impa is, for he suddenly breathes in rather deeply, and shakes himself, before settling his face back into a neutral expression.

“What made you pick such a Hylian name?” he asks almost idly.

Impa hums. “Secrecy. Any other name I would have chosen would have been... obvious. Link is an honorable name. It isn’t one my people normally use, but we hold it in high regard.”

“...it’s a good name,” Volga admits, crossing his arms. “Not one I would choose, but... you decided wisely. It’s fitting.”

“What would you have chosen?”

Volga is silent for a very long moment.

“Kozu,” he says finally, not looking at her. “It was my sire’s name.”

Impa looks at him, but Volga doesn’t look back, watching as Link lets out a soft hum in his sleep.

“And you?” he asks after a minute, voice quiet. “What would you have chosen?”

“I... I don’t know,” Impa admits, a bit taken aback at the question. “Perhaps after one of my family members as well. I didn’t give it much consideration since it wasn’t an option. Link always just seemed... fitting.”

Volga hums. “It is.”

And with that, their words completely dry up, the conversation run its course. It’s not a bad silence that falls over them, though. Impa would almost call it comfortable. If nothing else, the air has been largely cleared between her and Volga, and the ease that that brings with it is... refreshing. Clear. Like a shower she hadn’t realized she’d needed.

“Do you have somewhere to sleep tonight?” she finds herself asking, and Volga shrugs.

“There are cliffs nearby, I’ll find a cave. Much better than any stuffy tent you would offer.”

“I never said I was offering you a tent,” she scoffs, but Volga’s eyes twinkle.

“We both know you were going to.”

Impa rolls her eyes, and Volga chuckles, softly so as not to wake Link. She forgot how much she liked the sound of his laugh.

“Does this mean you’re... going to stick around?” she asks cautiously.

“For now,” Volga answers, then gives her a look that Impa would almost call nervous. “If you’ll have me. And assuming your army won’t all react to my presence like the guard at the entrance did.”

“Some of them will,” Impa admits. “But if you’re going to fight with us, then they’ll get used to the idea.”

“...I never offered to fight with you.”

“We both know you were going to.”

Volga blinks, then chuffs out another laugh, louder than the previous one.

“I see your wit hasn’t faded in the slightest, Impa.”

She smirks, then nods her head towards Link, who’s miraculously slept through this entire conversation.

“We should let him rest,” Impa says, and Volga nods.

They don’t leave immediately though— both of them stand there for a moment, watching their son sleep in silence. Volga presses his lips together like he wants to say something, but as Impa looks at him, he turns away from the cot.

“I’ll take you to the edge of camp,” Impa offers, and Volga lets her move in front of him and open the flap of the tent. Impa doesn’t miss how his hand ghosts past hers, and she can’t quite stop the tingle that runs up her spine when he brushes past her.

Oh now he’s just teasing.

Impa firmly shakes herself and follows after him, pointedly ignoring the faint smirk still on Volga’s lips.

Neither of them notice how Link’s eyes slip open before they leave, silent blues watching as they finally exit the tent.

[mollywog]

The Hunger Games - Chapter 2

Catching Fire - Chapter 12

Mockingjay - Chapter 27

and

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Oh! I forgot to tell y’all, I finished TotK during my hiatus! My reactions are as follows:

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

[bomnun]

today shinwon shared that he hasn’t formally renewed yet and is technically a free agent, but unless something huge happens very soon he is staying, they just haven’t finalized the contract yet. he says it’s both for group and solo activities, and my assumption based on his words and tone is that it’s important to him to have a future plan and not total unknown when he comes back from the enlistment. he’s probably enlisting in december or early january.

[deus-ex-mona]

it’s good big brother day (11月23日) so it’s time to stream senkou hanabi~~~~~~~

[celestial-toys]

*closes 13 tabs on astrology and greek mythology*

ES Ch.5… is now complete.

[silverne-nonsense]

MIRY.

Wind shoves his back against a crumbling wall, fumbling for his bag. His sword and shield are gone, knocked out of his hands by clever and precise blows, his magic armor won’t last more than a few seconds due to his nearly depleted magic, and the others are caught up in their own fights.

Wind is on his own.

Bombs and the hammer are a no-go. The Deku Leaf would knock his opponent down, but it without a proper weapon, it doesn’t do anything else for him. The hookshot would do more harm than good, and his grappling hook would be sliced apart if he missed. An ice arrow might do the trick, but that would mean…

His hand brushes against his boomerang. It’ll have to do! He just needs to buy enough time for the command melody. From there, everything will be okay! It will be!

Wind clutches his boomerangs to his chest with both hands, ears perked up as he listens. His namesake weaves around the ruins, stirring up dust and sand alike. Boots pad in his direction, crunching sand and gravel underneath its weight as his opponent hunts for him.

The sailor sucks in a deep breath, holds it, exhales. Here goes nothing.

He leaps from his lackluster hiding spot, eyes catching on golden hair and automatically aiming. His boomerang flies from his hand effortlessly, carried by the wind towards its target—!

Quick as a flash, Warriors swings his sword up and knocks Wind’s boomerang out of the air. It falls to the ground in two pieces, rendered useless by a single well-timed slice.

Uh oh.

With his heart in his throat, Wind scrambles back and reaches for his bag once more. Warriors doesn’t give him a chance to grab his bow, lunging after him and easily closing the space between them. His shoulder slams into Wind’s stomach, punching the air from his lungs and knocking Wind to the ground. He wheezes for breath, fingers digging into the dirt to push himself back up, but a hand on his shoulder shoves him back down.

Warriors looms above him, dull red eyes locked onto Wind in a glare. The usual gleam in the captain’s eyes is absent, leaving his gaze empty of any true anger. What pulls his expression into a glare is mere muscle memory rather than Warriors himself or whatever entity is currently controlling him.

Even knowing that, being pinned under the captain still sends a terrified shiver down Wind’s spine.

Warriors holds his sword in his other hand, fingers wrapped tight around the hilt and the point aimed at Wind’s face. He sees the way the captain’s arm stiffens, pulls back just a smidge—and he knows that blade is about to slice through his neck.

“Wait!” Wind gasps in a last ditch effort to save himself. “Captain! It’s me!”

Warriors’ dead glare deepens. The sword lowers towards his neck.

“It’s your brother!” Wind cries as the sword begins to bite into the fragile skin of his jaw. Oddly enough, it scrapes over his chin instead of down the side of his neck.

Is the entity just toying with him now? Tears prick at the corners of Wind’s eyes. Is this how he’s going to go, his face carved open by the hands of his own brother while the both of them are rendered helpless?

No, Wind decides. No. This is not how he’s going to go.

His fingers curled around the sand and into fists. He allows his face to scrunch into the upset look he normally tries to hide, the tears spilling from his eyes and down his cheeks.

“…don’t you know your own brother?” Wind shakily croaks, pleading for an opening, for a miracle.

And to Wind’s surprise, the sword pulls away from his neck. Warriors’ blank expression grows almost pained, and while it’s still dull and stagnant, there’s almost a hint of life to it in the tears that begin to well up in the captain’s eyes.

Now or never!

Wind’s fist swings upwards, fingers unclenching to launch a handful of sand and dust and gravel into the captain’s eyes. Warriors rears back with a yell, his free hand clawing at his eyes.

Wind slips out from underneath him just in time to dodge the sloppy stab the blinded captain aims at him. He shoves Warriors’ shoulders, pushing his brother to the ground in a poor mockery of Wind’s own position just seconds prior. The sword slips from his grip, and Wind kicks it away before Warriors can grab it. He shoves his other hand into his bag once more.

Red eyes, now irritated from the debris, meet Wind’s seafoam green as the possessed captain pushes himself up on his arms. Wind thrusts the Wind Waker in his face.

Left, center, right, center.

The wind swirls around them, humming their song as their waker conducts them.

Left, center, right, center.

Wind’s eyes roll into the back of his head. He feels it when his spirit nudges itself against Warriors’, feels the sting of dark magic as the entity controlling his brother screeches in outrage.

Get out, Wind hisses, Warriors’ own voice echoing him.

The entity bellows in response. Warriors’ hands claw at his temples, as if trying to dig Wind out of his head.

Get out! Wind shrieks, Warriors’ own voice pitching high. Wind throws himself at the entity, and it stings and it burns but Wind doesn’t care!

Get out of my brother!

The entity wails as Wind batters it with everything he’s got, quailing and cowering as Wind shoves it further and further away. It lashes out, desperate, but Wind hardly feels the burn of its magic. He won’t let this thing hurt him or Warriors anymore than it already has, he won’t!

With one last screech ripping itself from Warriors’ throat, Wind gives the entity a mighty shove and severs its connection with the captain.

It’s quiet. Warriors’ spirit remains dormant under Wind’s presence, the magic of the Wind Waker lulling him into a relaxed and pliant state.

With the captain asleep, Wind uses his eyes to take stock of himself.

Wind’s body stands in front of him, a concentrated frown on his face. Blood weeps from the cut in his jaw and chin, running down his neck in rivulets. Burns mar his cheeks and hands in angry red splotches, the result of throwing himself headlong into dark magic.

A small price to pay, in Wind’s opinion.

He loosens his grip on Warriors, allowing his spirit to slip back into his own body. Immediately, his whole body lights up in pain, fire shooting up his arms and down his chest.

In front of him, Warriors slumps forward and catches himself on his hands. He groans as he presses his head to the ground, shoulders heaving as he sucks in breath after breath.

“…Captain?” Wind hesitantly mumbles. Is he…

He flinches as Warriors’ head whips up, instinctual fear squeezing at his lungs, his heart.

Electric blue eyes meet his seafoam green. They flick down to the cut on Wind’s chin.

The captain swears. “Are you okay?” He drags himself over to Wind, trembling hands reaching out for him only to retract when Wind shrinks away.

Warriors’ expression crumples. “Gods, guppy, I’m so sorry.”

Guppy.

Wind bursts into tears. When Warriors reaches for him again, Wind throws himself into his arms, ignoring his burns in favor of clutching at his green tunic and blue scarf. Warriors folds him into his embrace, one hand cradling the back of his head.

“I’m so sorry.” Warriors presses his face into Wind’s hair. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

guys, I think the captain is possessed

based on this :)

[tiredmamaissy]

Sung Jin-woo letting one of his shadows join? Only if it’s Igris. 

🔞mdni🔞

jinwoo x reader x igris

Warnings: nsfw, expletives, smut, threesome, would this be considered necrophilia? I sincerely hope not, anyways—oral, pnv, dom jin, just absolute filth, creampie—although questionable, throatpie, multiple forced orgasms, first persons pov, links attached for some visuals, i just wanna shoutout this tiktok

Part 2 — ‘the day I found out that Igris has a knot’

——

I can’t lie, whenever I watch Igris in action my heart thuds in my chest, hard. It’s just the way he carries himself that makes him seem…so human. But he’s a beast, and he became Jinwoo’s shadow by a split hair. 

It’s no secret that they’re both equally as powerful. 

Sometimes I let myself fantasize for a while. Let myself think that when he looks at me, he’s feeling the same way. That his heart is slamming into his ribs, just like mine—if he even has one. I can’t help but wonder, what’s under that mask? Or rather, 

Who’s under that mask? 

Jinwoo catapults across my field of vision, slamming into the wall of the training arena. Igris stalks towards him, sword at his side and cape flowing behind him. I watch his every move, his every strut. He glances over to me, staring down at me with a predatory gaze, checking on me. Well, that’s what I allow myself to believe, only for a second. I know where his loyalty lies. 

Regardless, my heart’s about to fly out of my fucking chest. 

Within seconds, Jinwoo regains his strength, getting back up to rejoin this… ‘spar’. His aggression is palpable, I can sense it from all the way over here in these four walls tucked behind this safety glass. Only Igris can bring out this side of him—it’s always a fair fight, after all. 

Well, almost. 

I always look away at this point. It always gets bad for Igris. But for some reason, I can’t today. I watch, eyes fixed to the scene unfolding before me. 

Jinwoo slams Igris into the ground, sending a rumble through the earth beneath me. The chair I’m seated in shakes, and I grip the table in front of me. Igris fades into black smoke under Jinwoo’s fist, and his glowing eyes snap up to meet mine, piercing into me with a threatening glare. 

Fuck. 

My core spasms. Suddenly I’m empty, and yearning for Jinwoo to make it better. He stands and walks through the residual mist that was once Igris, toward me. I swallow hard and reign in the ball of muscle trying to break through my ribcage.

His stare never falters, his eyes are anchored to me. I stand as I urge myself to hold it, to dominate it. But it’s too intimidating—he’s too intimidating. I look down, just for a brief second, showing my submission. And when I look back up…

He’s gone. 

I feel a gust of wind and Jinwoo’s voice growls my name behind me, his hot breath misting against my shoulder. I break out into a shiver, and I stumble back into him. He catches me, steadying me with his iron grip on my waist. 

“Jin—” 

“Igris has taken quite an interest in you.”

He cuts me short with a hint of aggression in his voice. My stomach drops. His fingers wander down my hips, to my thighs—under the hem of my skirt. He presses his lips against the shell of my ear. 

“I’m not quite sure if I like that.” 

“Wh-what do you mean?” I whisper, obviously unnerved. I feel his hard bulge press into me, and my pussy floods with heat. 

“I'm his master.” Jinwoo speaks a little too calmly, subtly tugging my skirt up, little by little. “I know his thoughts, his feelings. He takes a particular liking to your—hah, well, everything.” He yanks my skirt the rest of the way up in one swift, harsh move. “I mean, I do know the feeling.” 

What is he even saying? That Igris…feels something for me? I can barely think, much less focus on the words he’s speaking. Not when he’s thumbing at my soaked panty. 

“I didn’t know he could feel anything. He’s a shadow.” I say, breathless. 

“Yes, he is. But he still has his own…urges. Instincts.” He whispers quietly as he tugs my panties down my hips, letting them drop to my ankles. 

“Desires.” 

“R-Right.” I gasp and hold my breath in anticipation and my body tenses. 

He’s going to bend me over this table and fuck me. 

I swear I feel a gush between my legs, and suddenly my face is flush against the wooden table and his feet are kicking apart mine. My panty stretches between my ankles and he snakes his fingers around my throat. 

“Igris.” He summons his best shadow in a thick, dark voice, and Igris fabricates from a black mist in front of me, as if he didn’t just disappear. “Isn’t that right?” 

I look up from the table, only to be met by a suit of armor and his piercing gaze spearing down through me. Shit. He can see me…like this. With my panties at my ankles, bent over a piece of furniture. 

How embarrassing. 

I feel Jinwoo fiddle single handedly with the buckle of his belt, and then the button on his pants. His other hand maintains its searing grip on my throat and jaw, forcing me to meet Igris’s quiet gaze. I struggle to breathe and my eyes threaten to leak. 

My heart is going to explode. 

“See? He didn’t even respond. He has total control over himself.” His voice lowers into a whisper next to my face and I hear his zipper. “He actually wants to fuck you.” 

What? He—what? My eyes bulge wider, if it’s even possible, and I feel his cock notch at my slick opening.

So what, he’s forcing him to watch us? To teach him some sick lesson? 

Jinwoo must sense my unease, and he loosens his grip on my jaw and my head slumps back down to the table. But I’m still staring into the void of Igris’s eyes. He remains unmoving, eerily still in his stance with his sword sheathed on his back. 

“Caalm.” He draws out the word, letting his fingers just barely skate along the length of my spine.

My back arches and I roll onto the tips of my toes to present my pussy to him. Pathetic. I almost hate how wet and ripe I am for him. He hasn’t even looked me in the eye yet. 

“We’re not doing anything you don’t want.” Jin-woo’s hand trails up to grip my throat once more, and he hunches over me until his lips are next to my ear again. 

“Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” 

Jin-woo breaches me with exigency, in one hard thrust of his hips. I let out a whimper and try to stay on my toes as I frantically adjust to his thick cock inside me. 

“I see the way you look at him.” He growls as he presses a harsh kiss onto my jaw. 

He knows. And he’s teaching me a lesson, too. 

“I…I don’t.” I can’t find my voice to tell my lie, especially when I’m doing it now—staring at Igris while his master is inside me. 

Jin-woo lets out a low, wicked chuckle, and his hand tightens on my throat. Igris moves just a millimeter, as if he were about to let himself react to his master's slender fingers wrapped around my neck. 

But he holds himself firm, head ever so slightly tilted down as he takes in the sight beneath him. The sight of my quivering, glossy eyes peering up at him, and my flushed, swollen lips glistening with a layer of spit. 

“Careful, Igris.” Jinwoo warns his subordinate. “We’re not in the arena anymore. You might hurt her if you retaliate here.” He unleashes me from his grip, allowing me to take an unobstructed breath. 

“He’s not a fan of my hand around your throat.” Jin-woo whispers into my ear, and pulls out of me suddenly, leaving me empty and aching. 

“I won’t hurt her. She’s mine, remember?” Jinwoo speaks nonchalantly, as if he were stating a fact. Reassuring Igris, yet at the same time reminding him that I’m his. I can sense Igris tense—he feels like a ball of kinetic energy, ready to burst. 

Jinwoo’s cock prods at me again, and I ready myself for the impact of his thrust. I know it’s going to be brutal. He slams into me with a ruthless smack, making the table beneath me topple onto two legs. My fingers grip onto its corners as I bite my cheek to stifle the moan threatening to rip from my throat. 

“Mine to fuck.” Jin-woo growls, and there’s a possessive tone to his voice. He wraps my hair around his fist and yanks my head back. Now I’m forced to stare directly at him. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” 

That damn question again. He wants me to say it to his face. To make it clear that he owns me and my pussy.

“Yes.” I just barely whisper and feel him ram into me again. “Fuck!” 

Igris takes a step toward me, his stare trained down on me. He’s so close to me now, and I’m eye level with his armored crotch. Blood rushes to my face and Jinwoo hisses behind me. 

“Soon.” Jinwoo snaps, using the grip he has on my hair to hold me firm as he immediately sets a relentless pace, fucking into me with a vengeance.

“Soon? W-what’s ha-ppening soon?” My voice bounces from his incessant thrusts, and I’m so fucking overwhelmed. 

“Igris wants his turn.” Jinwoo growls. 

His…turn?

My heart lunges out my chest, and I’m pushed closer towards the edge. The image of Igris actually fucking me is almost too much to handle. If he were to fuck me…oh god. I’m going to cum from just the thought. 

“Jinwoo, wait. I—” I moan softly as my legs tremble and my pussy grips his cock. Fuck, I’m going to come already. And Igris is going to watch it happen. “Please, s-slower—or, or, I’m going to—haah—gonna!” 

“Yeah? Already?” He huffs, letting his hips snap into me repeatedly, fucking me like he’s angry with me. “Just from the mere thought of my shadow fucking your needy little pussy?”

“N-No!” I deny the truth through a tiny, pathetic cry, fixating on the sight directly in front of me.

The armor guarding Igris’s most prized possession looks tight. 

“Show her your face.” Jin-woo orders quickly, huffing and puffing as he ruts into me. 

Igris obeys, taking off his helmet and letting it fall to the ground with a clank. I crane my neck to look up at him and I’m met with glowing red eyes.

Hungry, scarred, red eyes, staring down at me like he wants to wreck me.

His hair flows down past his shoulders, a stark white with silver highlights. Christ, he’s more gorgeous than I ever imagined. 

And I'm coming…to his face. 

“Fu-uck.” I whine shakily and watch Igris’s eyes widen and his angular jaw tense. 

“Oh fuck, she’s cumming on my cock, Igris.” Jinwoo grunts and fucks me through every spasm that ripples through me. I writhe and squirm underneath his grip and my eyes fill to the brim with hot tears. “Don’t you wanna feel that?” 

Igris’s gaze snaps to Jinwoo’s, and the answer to that question is written all over his beautiful face. 

“Shadow exchange.” Jinwoo growls under his breath. 

Within moments, Igris fades to black and before me stands the menace himself—the shadow monarch—huge cock in hand with his ominous, glowing eyes shooting freshly sharpened daggers into me. 

Then I feel it. A delicious stretch. My still throbbing cunt desperately tries to adjust to Igris’s fat cock. He’s inside me. He’s really fucking inside me. Fuck, it’s so thick and big that I could cry. I really might fucking cry. 

I let out a wobbly whimper and force myself to keep still, if I move I think I’ll split open. All I can do is peer up into the luminous eyes that look back down at me with contempt, as I beg him to do something. 

“Oh my god. J-Jin. Jinwoo.” I chitter through my teeth and my tears of disbelief finally stain my cheeks. “Jin-woo, he’s really i-inside me.”

“Impressive, mm?” He grunts, breathing heavily. He cups my chin, pads of his fingers sinking into my damp cheeks. He tsks, and a slight smirk tugs at his lips. “I want to be inside you too, darling.” 

Jinwoo drives his thumb and pointer finger into my jaw bone, forcing my mouth open. He gives himself a few sloppy strokes before swiping his swollen tip on my lips as if it were lipstick, coating them in my own cum. 

“Tongue.” He demands through a breathless groan, and my tongue instinctively darts out, tasting myself on him. 

I’m sweet. 

“That’s my good girl.” Jin-woo grins, his thumb rubbing my cheek tenderly like some sort of twisted praise.

His attention turns to his second in command, and he takes in the sight of him mounted to me. His cock twitches against my tongue, and my mouth reflexively closes around his mushroomy head. 

“Hnng—she’s incredible, isn’t she?” Jinwoo sounds so smug, and for the first time, I hear Igris grunt. “Fuck her good, Igris.” 

The force of his first thrust litters my vision with stars, and it pushes me further down onto Jinwoo’s cock all at once. Jinwoo takes an intentional breath to stifle a groan and begins balling my hair into his fist. 

My clit definitely has its own fucking heartbeat. 

Igris begins thrusting in and out of me like a starved man, shoving himself as deep as my tiny body will allow him. His movements are incessant, laced with desperation. Like he’s been waiting—wanting to do this for a long, long time. He’s fucking into me like he’s never fucked a pussy in his life and the thought of that likely being the truth is making this even hotter. 

“Shit, I don’t even need to fuck your throat.” Jinwoo huffs with a smile and stands still, proving his point. “He’s fucking you so hard that your throat is riding my cock.”

Tears stream down my face and my head feels like it’s full of cotton. Am I even breathing? I test it out and hear a gurgling noise that I can only assume came from  me. Jinwoo pulls out of me, holding my head in the air and I hear myself heave a loud breath. 

“Don’t pass out on us, sweetheart.” Jinwoo’s dark voice echoes and I feel him tap my cheek a few times with his cock. “Come on, you can take us both. Right?”

He slowly sinks his cock down my throat again, inch by inch. I gag and my eyes water, because while he’s doing that, Igris is ramming him into the back of my throat repeatedly. 

It’s all too much. 

I shake my head and tap Jin’s thigh, and he yanks out of me and I gasp for air. He strokes himself fast, with his hips thrusted into the air and his core flexed. He groans low and long, watching me. Watching us.

“Make her cum.” He speaks quickly, stroking himself harder. Igris pounds into me at a frightening rate and I feel the coil in my core suddenly snap. I let out a filthy moan, loud and languid, from the back of my fucked out throat. “She’s gonna come, Igris.” 

I am. I fucking am. 

“I’m—I’m cummi—”

Jinwoo stuffs his cock back down my throat with an urgency, hunching over me and fucking my throat like it’s a pussy. His hand snakes down my belly, and his finger barely swipes my pulsing clit. His ghost touch sends me over the edge and I cum so. fucking. hard. My pussy throbs so bad that Igris groans like a dying man and ruts me harder. 

“Oh fuck, baby. Yes.” Jinwoo moans, giving me one brutal thrust before emptying himself down my throat.

He grunts from the bottom of his stomach and he holds me for what feels like an eternity on his pulsating cock before tugging me off of him. I cough and sputter, swallowing between sorry attempts at taking a breath. 

“Granted.” Jinwoo catches his own breath, and I can’t even speak to ask him what he’s allowing Igris to do to me now. He leans down, caressing my face and brushing my sweaty hair away from my pleading eyes. He plants a tender kiss on my ear and as he pulls away he whispers to me.

“Igris wants permission to breed you. That’s okay, right darling?”

Jin-woo takes a step back and I call for him with my hoarse voice. But he only grins and uses his stealth to fade into thin air, seemingly leaving me alone with the knight commander Igris—the blood red. I feel his metal arm wrap over my chest and his hand grip my shoulder to gain purchase. 

“I-Igris.” I nervously and directly acknowledge him for the first time in this entire interaction. “Ple-ase…” 

He growls and pulls me off the table and into his hard exterior. My toes cramp from trying to stay on my feet but he’s way too big and I feel myself lifting off the ground. He wraps his other hand around my waist and supports me with ease, fucking me mid-air. I claw at his armour and my legs kick and cross but I’m trapped in his undying grasp. 

“Holy shit…Igris!” I cry out, frantic. “Hold on!”  

Igris’s rhythm goes sloppy, and he’s trying to force as much of himself inside me as he possibly can. He’s trying to kill me, not breed me. A high pitched squeal splits my quivering lips and I kick a little harder—entirely too overwhelmed and overstimulated. 

“T-Too deep! You’re too deep!” My tears stream down my cheeks yet my pummeled pussy weeps for more. 

“You’re okay, my princess.” Igris’s deep voice hurls me into my third orgasm and I go limp in his grip, completely dissolving into the pleasure of his cock filling every possible part of me.

He cums with a gruff shout, tightening his arms around me as he stays inside me, stuffing me with cum until I’m queasy. 

My vision splits and fades to black and his grip on me fades with it. I hear a hushed sound and feel myself falling. I’m about to slam into the floor. I brace for impact in my fizzled brain yet I don’t feel the hard, cold tile. Rather, a warmth envelopes me, cradling me as I blubber and fail to set any breathing pattern, much less a steady one.

“Shh-shh. Breathe. You did so well, baby.” It’s Jinwoo’s voice, cooing at me, and he holds me close to his warm chest. “You were such a good girl for us.” 

[lotuswish]

𑁍ࠬܓ how they react when they see you hurt (housewardens & jamil)

synopsis: pain is not something he ever wanted to associate with you. but seeing you injured—knowing someone dared to harm you—shatters his composure. for some, it’s rage; for others, panic. and for a few, it’s cold, terrifying control—until he knows you’re safe. but one thing is certain: someone will pay for this.

featured character(s): riddle rosehearts, leona kingscholar, azul ashengrotto, kalim al-asim, jamil viper, vil schoenheit, idia shroud, malleus draconia.

content warning(s): angst, mentions of violence and implied revenge, mild injury descriptions (ex. bruises, wounds, pain etc.), spoilers for book 6 in idia’s part.

a/n: they’re just being silly, guys. <3

link(s): (masterlist)

riddle rosehearts

riddle prides himself on maintaining control.

his entire life has been shaped by discipline, by structure, by the belief that emotions must be ruled by logic. he does not allow himself to be reckless, does not allow himself to be overcome. everything he does is precise, calculated, deliberate.

but the moment he sees you hurt—

everything unravels.

his breath catches in his throat, his heart slamming against his ribs, his mind instantly abandoning all reason. his entire world sharpens to a singular point—you—and all at once, every ounce of restraint he’s spent years perfecting is hanging by a fragile, fraying thread.

“who did this?”

his voice is sharper than you’ve ever heard it, trembling with something raw, something dangerously close to rage.

he’s beside you in an instant, dropping to his knees without hesitation, his hands hovering—not touching, not yet, because what if he makes it worse? what if he hurts you somehow? his fingers tremble, itching to reach out, to make sure—

“tell me where it hurts,” he says, but his voice wavers. “tell me what happened.”

his hands are gentle but firm as he checks you over, his usually practiced movements clumsy with the weight of panic. he doesn’t even realize his breathing is uneven, doesn’t even notice the way his shoulders are shaking as he looks you over, as he takes in every bruise, every wound, every sign that something happened—

something he didn’t prevent.

“you should have been more careful,” he scolds, but the words come out thin, forced, like he’s trying to hold something else back.

you try to tell him you’re fine, try to brush it off, but he doesn’t believe you. his eyes flicker with frustration, his jaw tightening, his grip on your wrist just a fraction too tense.

“don’t be ridiculous—you’re hurt,” he snaps, and then immediately exhales, forcing himself to breathe. “just… stay still. let me handle this.”

he refuses to let you wave it away. refuses to leave it alone. you are not fine, and he will not let you convince him otherwise.

but even as he focuses on making sure you’re okay, something else burns at the edges of his mind, pressing against his temples like an unbearable weight—

who did this to you?

his hands clench into fists. his breathing evens out, but his posture remains rigid, coiled tight like a string about to snap.

because once you’re safe—once he’s certain that you’re okay, that you’ll recover, that he didn’t fail you—

then, and only then, will he deal with the one responsible.

his mother may have taught him restraint, but some things are unforgivable.

and hurting you is one of them.

leona kingscholar

danger.

his body registers it before his mind does, his instincts kicking in the moment his eyes land on you—hurt, vulnerable, not okay.

his vision tunnels, his pulse spikes, and suddenly, the world around him doesn’t matter anymore.

“what the hell happened?”

his voice is a low, guttural growl, thick with something dark, something uncontrollable. his hands clench at his sides, every muscle coiled, his body ready—ready to fight, ready to destroy, ready to eliminate whatever put you in this state.

but then he sees it—sees the way you’re holding yourself, the way your breath hitches, the way you flinch just slightly—and suddenly, the anger has to be forced down, swallowed like bile in the back of his throat.

because right now, you come first.

so he moves, closing the distance in a single step, his hands reaching for you before he can stop himself. his hands are gentle from the start, unusually so. these hands of his are capable of devastation, of turning flesh to dust, of summoning ruin with a mere touch. but against you, they are careful, restrained. the second he feels the warmth of your skin beneath his fingertips, the tension in his hold eases, his hands softening, steadying you instead of breaking you.

“who did this?”

his voice is still dangerous, still thick with that barely restrained fury, but now there’s something else underneath it.

concern.

fear.

he hates how it makes his chest tighten. hates the way it lingers at the edges of his thoughts, nagging at him, clawing at something buried deep beneath his usual indifference.

he kneels in front of you, his sharp, emerald eyes scanning every inch of you with terrifying intensity. his fingers ghost over your injuries, his jaw clenched so tight you can hear his teeth grind together.

“tell me.” his voice is dangerous now.

and then—when you hesitate, when you try to brush it off, when you lie—

his patience snaps.

“don’t give me that.” his grip tightens just slightly, his expression darkening. “you’re hurt. don’t act like it’s nothing.”

there’s no room for argument in his tone. no patience for your stubbornness, no willingness to accept anything less than the truth.

if you try to keep it from him, if you refuse to say who’s responsible, then fine—he’ll find out himself.

because someone did this.

and once you’re safe—once he’s sure you’re okay, once he’s made damn sure you’ll recover—

then he’s hunting.

“stay here,” he mutters, standing to his full height, his tail flicking behind him in barely restrained aggression. “i’ll take care of it.”

and if you try to stop him?

his gaze flickers down to you, something sharp, something scorching, like the unrelenting heat of the desert sun at its peak—blistering, unforgiving, merciless.

“no one lays a damn hand on you and gets away with it.”

and then he’s gone, a storm of unbridled wrath, a lion on the hunt.

azul ashengrotto

azul is a man of careful calculations.

every word, every action, every decision he makes is deliberate. he has spent years crafting a persona of charm, wit, and effortless composure—one that allows him to stay in control, no matter the circumstances. he does not flinch, does not waver, does not lose to uncertainty.

but then he sees you hurt.

and suddenly, all of that control is gone.

his breath catches, his body locks up, and for one horrifying moment, his mind is utterly blank.

“you—what happened?”

his voice doesn’t sound like his own. it’s too sharp, too raw, lacking the usual smoothness he prides himself on.

he rushes to you without thinking, but the second he’s close enough to touch, he hesitates. his fingers hover inches above your skin, his knuckles white with the force of his restraint. his mind is screaming at him to act, to do something, but a terrible thought wedges itself into his panic—

what if i make it worse?

he doesn’t trust his own hands, doesn’t trust his own judgment, not when the sight of you like this is unraveling him from the inside out.

“tell me what hurts,” he demands, his words tumbling out in a way that’s almost frantic. “is it serious? how bad is it?”

his thoughts spiral immediately, jumping to the worst possible conclusions. is it critical? should he be calling for medical attention? what if you’re downplaying it? what if he’s not fast enough?

and then you try to brush it off.

“nothing?” he echoes, breath hitching. his voice almost cracks—and he hates that. “how can you say that when you’re—when you—”

his hands clench into fists, shaking slightly as he forces himself to breathe.

“just—just stay still,” he mutters, voice tight with strain. “i’ll take care of it.”

because if there is one thing he knows, one thing he can control, it’s fixing things. making deals. offering solutions.

“i’ll call a healer. i’ll get whatever you need—whatever you want.”

his words come too fast, his mind still racing, but through it all, his hands never leave yours.

his grip is too tight, fingers wrapped around yours like a lifeline, like letting go isn’t an option he’s willing to consider.

because if he lets go—if he loses you—

he’s not sure he’ll be able to handle it.

and when it’s over—when he knows you’ll be okay—he still doesn’t let you out of his sight.

“you scared me,” he murmurs, quieter than before.

his voice is steadier now, but you can still hear the remnants of his fear, lingering in the way his thumb brushes absentmindedly over your knuckles, in the way he exhales like he’s been holding his breath this entire time.

and for the first time since you’ve met him—since he built the persona of azul ashengrotto, the untouchable businessman, the man always one step ahead—

he lets you see just how fragile he becomes when it comes to you.

kalim al-asim

kalim is always smiling.

he is a beacon of joy, a burst of light in every room he enters. when things go wrong, he looks for the silver lining. when people are hurting, he lifts them up with his boundless energy. sadness is something he refuses to dwell on, something he fights against with warmth and laughter.

but when he sees you hurt?

his entire world stops.

“oh no, oh no—”

the words leave him before he can think, his breath catching as his heart lurches in his chest. he doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t pause to process what he’s seeing—his body moves, fast and instinctive, rushing to your side.

his hands cradle your face, warm and steady despite the frantic tremor in his touch.

“are you okay? what happened? does it hurt? how bad is it?”

his voice is shaking. he’s shaking.

and when he finally really looks at you, when he takes in the way you wince, the way you hold yourself like you’re trying to hide the pain—his chest tightens, his stomach twisting into something awful.

“why didn’t anyone stop it? why didn’t i stop it?”

guilt. overwhelming, suffocating guilt floods him like a tidal wave.

“i should’ve been there! i should’ve protected you!”

his grip on you tightens—not enough to hurt, just enough to let you know he’s here. he isn’t letting go. he won’t let go.

and then, before you can stop him—before you can tell him it’s not a big deal—his eyes start to glisten.

“kalim, are you—”

“i’m not crying!” he absolutely is. “i just—you scared me!”

his voice wobbles, and suddenly, he’s pulling you into a hug, arms wrapping around you too tightly, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

“don’t move, okay? just stay right here! i’ll get someone to help—i’ll fix this, i promise!”

if it’s something small—just a minor scrape, a bruise—he still treats it like it’s life-threatening. he refuses to let you walk it off, refuses to let you act like it’s fine.

if it’s something worse? if you are seriously hurt?

he panics, but his movements are certain. without hesitation, he lifts you into his arms, holding you to his chest like you’re something precious, like you belong nowhere else but safe in his hands.

“i’ve got you,” he whispers, voice breaking. “i won’t let anything happen to you.”

and when he finally gets you to safety, when he finally knows you’re okay—

he still won’t stop fussing.

“you need to rest! do you want pillows? i’ll get you pillows! or tea! do you want tea? i’m sure jamil will—jamil! we need tea!”

“kalim, i’m fine—”

“no, you’re not fine! i was so scared!”

his fingers squeeze yours.

and later, when you’re patched up, when the worst of the moment has passed—

he presses his forehead to yours, closing his eyes.

“don’t ever scare me like that again, okay?”

his voice is softer now, the usual excitement dimmed into something deeply sincere.

“i don’t ever wanna see you hurt again.”

jamil viper

jamil was raised to handle crises.

he has spent his entire life being the one who steps in when things go wrong, the one who fixes things while everyone else panics. no matter the situation, no matter the chaos, no matter the pressure—he is always in control.

so when he sees you hurt, when he registers the way you’re holding yourself, the way your face twists with pain—

his stomach drops.

but his body moves on instinct.

“where?”

his voice is steady. too steady. his mind is screaming, but his tone doesn’t waver, his movements are calculated, precise. he crouches in front of you immediately, eyes scanning you with sharp, assessing precision.

“how bad is it? let me see.”

he doesn’t waste time. doesn’t ask what happened—not yet. because right now, the only thing that matters is making sure you’re okay.

his hands are warm but firm, brushing over you carefully as he checks for injuries. his fingers ghost over your wrist, your arm, the side of your face—everywhere that might be hurt—his touch gentle but filled with purpose.

“it’s not broken,” he murmurs under his breath, half to himself, half to reassure you. “no major swelling… does this hurt?”

and then—when you flinch, when you let out the softest hiss of pain—

something inside him snaps.

his jaw clenches. his breathing slows.

“who.”

his eyes flick up to meet yours, and for the first time, there is something dangerous in his gaze.

“who did this?”

if there is a culprit—if someone is responsible for this—then they are not leaving unscathed.

but even as fury thrums through his veins, even as his mind races with ways to handle the situation, he forces himself to prioritize you first.

“can you walk?” his voice is softer now, his tone slipping back into something controlled, something measured.

if you say yes, he doesn’t let you prove it. he supports you immediately, one arm around your waist, guiding you effortlessly as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

if you say no, he lifts you without hesitation. no warning, no asking—just picking you up, his hold secure, unshakable.

“don’t argue,” he mutters, barely sparing you a glance. “just let me take care of it.”

because he will.

and once he gets you somewhere safe, once he’s made sure you’re being treated properly, once he knows with certainty that you are okay—

then, and only then, does he allow himself to breathe.

“you’re reckless,” he mutters, his voice a mix of exasperation and something far too raw. “i don’t have time to deal with this every time you get yourself hurt, you know.”

but his fingers tighten just slightly where they rest against your arm, betraying the truth behind his words.

because if something had happened—if things had been worse—

he doesn’t even want to think about what he would have done.

vil schoenheit

perfection is vil’s standard.

not just in beauty, not just in his work, but in everything—his composure, his discipline, the way he carries himself. he does not allow himself to be reckless. he does not make careless mistakes. he does not let emotions rule him.

but then he sees you hurt.

and something inside him fractures.

his lips press together, his expression unreadable, his body rigid—the only betrayal of the storm brewing beneath his flawless exterior is the way his fingers tighten just slightly at his sides, the way his breath is a fraction too controlled.

“where are you hurt?”

his voice is steady. cold. clinical. but his eyes—his eyes—

they burn.

he crosses the distance between you in two strides, his gloved fingers already reaching for you. his touch is firm but delicate, brushing over your skin with the kind of precision only someone like him could possess.

“sit down.” it’s not a request. “don’t move until i’ve assessed the damage.”

you try to downplay it, try to insist that it’s nothing, but his sharp gaze cuts through you instantly.

“do not insult me by pretending this is fine,” he snaps, his voice sharp as glass. “you are hurt. i can see it. so let me handle it.”

his fingers ghost over your injuries, his touch meticulous, searching. he catalogues everything—the severity, the placement, the way you react when he presses too close.

he is silent as he works, but the tension in his shoulders speaks volumes.

“this never should have happened.” the words slip out low, almost a whisper, but the weight behind them is undeniable. “i should have—”

but he cuts himself off before he finishes the thought.

vil schoenheit does not dwell in should haves.

he fixes things. he prevents disasters before they happen.

but right now, all he can do is make sure you are okay.

“i’ll handle this,” he says smoothly, already preparing to tend to your wounds himself. “stay still.”

his movements are precise, every action perfectly executed—cleaning, bandaging, ensuring no imperfections remain. but his touch lingers just slightly longer than necessary, his fingers brushing over your wrist, your palm, the curve of your shoulder with a tenderness that is almost imperceptible.

and when it’s over—when you are properly cared for, when the worst of the moment has passed—he finally exhales.

“you worried me,” he murmurs, and it is softer now, less controlled, less rehearsed.

and then—just for a second—his fingers ghost against your jaw, tilting your face up toward him.

“i won’t let this happen again. not ever.”

his voice is gentle. his eyes are not.

because if anyone had a hand in this—if someone is responsible for this pain—

then they will regret ever daring to touch you.

idia shroud

idia doesn’t do well under pressure.

he was not built for high-stakes situations, for stress, for emotions so raw they leave no room for second chances. he hates unpredictability, hates chaos, hates not knowing what to do.

so when he sees you hurt—

his mind shuts down.

for a full second, he just stares, his breath caught somewhere in his throat, his fingers twitching but unable to move.

no, no, no, no, no—

his brain latches onto the worst possibilities immediately. how bad is it? is it fatal? what if you’re bleeding out? what if it’s internal? what if he doesn’t react fast enough?

what if he loses you?

his stomach twists violently, a familiar, awful panic rising in his throat, threatening to choke him.

because this—this exact fear—is something he’s lived through before.

he remembers the first time. the real first time.

losing ortho was something he never saw coming. something he never thought could happen. and even though he’s built him again, recreated him, brought back a version of his little brother—

he still remembers.

remembers what it felt like to be too late. to fail someone he loved. to stand there, frozen in horror, helpless to stop it.

and now—

now it’s you.

you, the only person who matters to him besides ortho. you, the person who understands him, who stays, who chooses him despite all the reasons not to. you, who has somehow become his entire world without him even realizing it.

“oh seven—okay, okay—don’t freak out—no, wait, i’m the one freaking out—”

he rushes toward you but stops short, his hands hovering inches away, shaking.

“w-wait, should i touch you? would that make it worse?? oh seven, what if i make it worse—”

his mind is short-circuiting. too many variables. too many possible failures.

“idia,” you start, but he whirls on you, wide-eyed and frantic.

“y-you have to tell me exactly how bad it is, okay? give me a numerical rating—no, no, wait, i don’t trust the pain scale, um—can you move?? do you need a doctor??”

his breathing is erratic, his fingers clutching at the edge of his hoodie like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded.

but then—just like before—you try to reassure him.

“i’m okay.”

he stops.

his whole body locks up, his mind struggling to catch up.

”…are you sure?”

his voice is so small. so uncertain.

because he’s already lost someone before.

and if he lost you too—if this was his fault, if he wasn’t fast enough, smart enough, good enough—

he doesn’t know what he would do.

even when he’s finally convinced that you’re not dying, he still refuses to leave your side. he hovers awkwardly, fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve, clearly itching to do something to make himself useful.

so he does what he knows best—

“d-do you wanna lay down? i, uh, set up a recovery station in my room. blankets. snacks. medkits—y’know, just in case. w-we can watch something comforting, i won’t even complain about the genre. promise.”

his voice is still wobbly, still slightly frayed at the edges, but the tension in his shoulders finally eases when you nod.

and later—when you’re safe, resting, and no longer in pain—

his fingers brush against yours, hesitant, unsure, before finally intertwining them properly.

“never scare me like that again, okay?”

his voice is quiet. but this time, it doesn’t shake.

because he won’t lose you too.

he can’t.

malleus draconia

malleus has lived longer than most.

a century and more has passed since his birth. he has seen generations rise and fall, watched mortals grow old in the blink of an eye. nothing unsettles him. nothing disturbs his calm.

but then he sees you hurt.

and the entire world stands still.

his breath halts, and the air around him shifts—the very atmosphere bending beneath the weight of something primordial, something as vast and unrelenting as the storm-laden skies over the land of briar.

his first instinct is not panic.

it is rage.

“who did this?”

his voice is low, steady, but beneath the surface, something dangerous lurks.

his emerald eyes gleam, faintly glowing in the dim light. the shadows stretch taller, the wind outside stills, the very earth itself seems to pause, as if the land itself knows what kind of wrath is building within him.

his hands twitch at his sides, claws curling, magic crackling faintly at his fingertips—not for you, never for you, but for whoever was foolish enough to harm you.

but he stops himself. forces himself to breathe.

because you come first.

he is in front of you in an instant, his movements as fluid as shadow, his expression unreadable. his hands—hands that could command storms, reduce castles to rubble, shatter the very sky—reach for you with an almost unnatural gentleness.

“let me see,” he murmurs, his fingers ghosting over your injury, tracing the bruises, the cuts, the places where pain lingers.

his touch is featherlight, his movements precise, but beneath it all, his body is rigid with barely restrained fury.

“who did this?” he repeats, quieter now, but infinitely more terrifying.

if you don’t answer, if you try to downplay it, if you lie—

his gaze darkens, something thunderous in his silence.

“do not shield them from me.”

he is not so easily deceived. he sees the hesitation in your eyes, the way you waver, the way you avoid his gaze. if you refuse to tell him, it does not matter—he will find out on his own.

but first—

“hold still,” he murmurs, raising his hand.

a pulse of magic hums through the air, a whisper of ancient power curling around your form like a protective shroud. the ache dulls, the wounds begin to close, the pain fades.

“better?” he asks, softer now, something tender hidden beneath the weight of his fury.

but even as he tends to you, even as he ensures you are safe—

his mind is already elsewhere.

because someone hurt you.

and for that, there will be consequences.

malleus does not act rashly. he does not lash out blindly.

but the guilty party will know fear.

“stay here,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your cheek for just a fraction of a second, his touch lingering. “rest. recover.”

and then, as he turns, the air thickens, the weight of his presence pressing down like the hush before a storm, like the crackling stillness before lightning splits the sky.

because someone has made a grave mistake.

and if the gods are watching, they would be wise to offer their mercy—because malleus draconia will not.

congrats on making it to the end! if you enjoyed this, likes, comments, follows, and reblogs are always appreciated—they help motivate me to keep creating and sharing!

[blank-potato]

that's what i like

Pairing: Bob Reynolds x Reader

Summary:

It's impossible to teach when you’re hopelessly, irreversibly, maddeningly in love with the one you’re training. “So what now?” he asks, rolling up his sleeves. Big mistake. Huge mistake. Because now you’re at serious risk of going into full cardiac arrest. You didn’t even know you had a thing for forearms until Bob Reynolds. And his? They’re absurd. Or You love everything Bob does, and he doesn't seem to notice.

Tags/Warnings: Fluff, love confessions, friends to lovers, Bob and reader being cute, thirsting over the void a little

WC: 3.1k

A/N: Thank you again to @fire-joestar for the request/idea. Wrote something with the same kind of concept for John Walker, linked here. Enjoy!

***

Bob Reynolds is ruining your life.

Not in the dramatic, villain-of-your-story kind of way, but in the slow, quiet unravelling of your sanity. It’s too hard to be around him with all the smiling and casual charm and accidental intimacy that he does without even realising it.

And it’s always the little things which somehow make it worse.

His voice, for one. You were obsessed with his voice. He could be reading the back of a cereal box or listing off the ingredients in engine coolant, and it would still sound like poetry. Sometimes he’d actually read to you. You and Bob were the only members of the unofficial Avengers book club.

You’d often talk about books you’d read, trading recommendations like secrets, excitedly dissecting plot twists and favourite characters. It became a quiet ritual between you and Bob.

“There’s no audiobook,” you groaned one night, holding up the newest paperback in your stack. “I was hoping to listen to one so I could fall asleep.”

Bob, ever the calm in your chaos, looked over at you with that soft little smile he always wore when he was about to offer something way too generous.

“I can read it to you,” he said, casual like it wasn’t the most heart-stoppingly sweet thing you’d ever heard.

You blinked. “You sure you don’t mind?” you asked, voice tinged with both hope and hesitation.

But he just shook his head, already pulling a chair up beside your bed, brushing off any notion of it being a burden. “Not at all.”

His voice was too much. It filled the space in your room like a blanket. He didn’t touch you, not once, just sat a few feet away reading by the soft light of your bedside lamp. But somehow it still felt intimate, like his voice alone was petting you gently, like fingertips tracing down your spine, calming every frayed nerve.

But his voice wasn’t just soothing, it was sexy. You’d never tell him or the other Avengers this because of the whole traumatic experience and whatnot, but even when he became the void, his voice was something else.

It was dark and mocking, and it had you feeling some kind of way, only a little, because people were literally being turned into shadows and living out their trauma. But still, it pulled at something deep inside you and maybe made you discover a few things about yourself. Maybe something you should be concerned about, but nevertheless...

Although his voice isn’t the only thing that’s contributing to your downfall. 

Just this morning, you’re barely awake and walk in to be greeted by the sight of Bob making breakfast, one of your favourite sights. 

“Morning,” you mumble, suppressing a yawn.

“Morning…” he replies with an easy smile, going about his routine, setting up to make breakfast.

“Thank you, Bob,” you say, turning to him, feeling completely in control, your head still firmly attached to the rest of you.

But then you catch something, he’s cracking eggs one-handed. Now, you don’t know why that’s so captivating. Maybe it’s how strong and big his hands look, maybe it’s the effortless confidence in the motion. Or maybe it’s just because you’re so hopelessly in love with him that everything he does feels like it’s dipped in gold.

Either way, you liked it. A lot more than you probably should’ve.

“You could crack me like an egg,” you mumble quietly to yourself.

“Did you say something?” Bob asks, not hearing what you said, thank goodness.

“No, nothing at all. You’re looking good, the... the breakfast is looking good, I mean…” You stumble over your words, cheeks warming as you try to play it cool.

This crush you had on him certainly didn’t help when you had to help him train. He was like a baby cow, clumsy, unsure, and somehow always one step away from falling over his own feet. And everything he did just made him that much more endearing. The way he bit his lip when he was concentrating, the little apologetic smiles when he missed a step or fumbled a move, the way he always tried again without complaint. It was everything.

“You have to…um you have to…” You start, but your voice trails off as you catch the way he’s looking at you.

Another one of Bob’s quirks that has you going feral… the eye contact. He’s always so focused, so intent, like he’s really watching you, really seeing you. His eyes hold this sharp, unwavering attention that’s equal parts intense and disarming. It totally throws you off your game.

You’re brought back to your senses by him saying your name repeatedly.

“Where’d you go?” he says, putting his hand on your shoulder. You shake off the Bob-induced daze and look at him with full attention.

“I’m too hopeless a student?” He asks.

“Rather, I’m too hopeless of a teacher,” You reply with a chuckle, and it was true. It's impossible to teach when you’re hopelessly, irreversibly, maddeningly in love with the one you’re training.

“So what now?” he asks, rolling up his sleeves.

Big mistake.

Huge mistake.

Because now you’re at serious risk of going into full cardiac arrest.

You didn’t even know you had a thing for forearms until Bob Reynolds. And his? They’re absurd. The veins, the muscle, the smooth strength of his arms just disappearing under the fabric of his shirt. You can only imagine what his biceps look like. Or his shoulders. Or—

You shake your head quickly, trying to banish the rapidly spiralling thoughts. You know Bob is probably confused, waiting for an answer, but your eyes? Yeah, they’re glued to his damn forearms.

Damn his forearms.

“Break,” you blurt. “Ten-minute break. Minimum.”

Before he can respond, you practically launch yourself toward the water fountain, needing a distraction, a cooldown, and maybe divine intervention.

You take a long drink, trying not to think about veins. Or rolled-up sleeves. Or Bob at all. 

But Bob lived in your mind; he had taken up residence there as soon as you met, and he wasn’t moving out anytime soon. It wasn’t fair that he was cute but also kind and helpful? It made you want to crash into a wall. 

You were struggling with a particularly stubborn jar, the kind that mocks you with every twist. You could fight ten people with one hand tied behind your back, balance complex equations in your head, but you couldn’t defeat this jar of pickles.

Bob appears, quiet as ever, and silently offers to take it from your hands. You hesitate, then sigh and surrender.

He reaches over, his hand brushing yours, and takes it. In one fluid motion, he opens it like it's nothing. Like it hadn't just reduced you to near madness. Like your struggle had never even happened.

“Thank you,” you say, your voice barely making it past your lips.

He smiles softly, unbothered, warm. “What are friends for?” he says, placing his hand gently on your shoulder. It’s a brief touch that somehow says more than the words. And then he disappears down the hall, like it was nothing.

Right… friends. 

***

You’re wandering the tower again. When you have nothing to do, your feet always seem to lead you to Bob.

You knock on his door, and after a muffled "Come in," you step inside.

You look around and there he is, shaving in front of a small mirror propped up on the windowsill.

“Hope I’m not intruding…” You say hesitantly.

He glances at you through the mirror, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His hair is slightly damp and tousled, a few strands falling stubbornly into his eyes. He’s probably just stepped out of the shower a few minutes prior, the smell of his shampoo and lotion filling the air. 

He’s holding a razor, face half-lathered, brow furrowed in concentration. You liked him like this, all cute and focused. There was something about the way he moved with such care, guiding the blade with precise, practised strokes. It was intimate in a way you couldn’t explain.

“You don’t have to, but can you help me?” Bob asks, voice gentle but sure.

“Sure,” you reply, stepping closer.

And again, you’re hit with that electricity that crackles between you when your eyes meet. He watches you, patient and open, and you always wonder if he realises just how much that look affects you.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle,” you whisper, picking up the towel and dabbing away some stray foam. Your hand is steady now, more confident, and with it comes a strange kind of comfort. The scent of him surrounds you, clean, warm, a little woodsy. It was comforting and something else, too. You wanted to dive into it. To stay wrapped up in that scent, in him. You could only imagine waking up to your sheets smelling like him.

How the hell was the way he smelled even sexy?

“You smell good,” you say, without thinking.

You both go extremely still, equally flustered.

“So do you,” he finally replies, and there's another little pause. You stare at each other, your heart performing an Olympic-level gymnastics routine inside your chest.

“W–where’s your aftershave?” you ask, trying to find something to focus on that isn’t the intensity of his gaze.

“Bathroom,” he says, voice lower now.

You nod, quickly turning away. A second later, you’re back with the bottle in hand. You open it, the scent hitting you all over again, it’s undeniably him.

Without asking, you step closer and start applying it for him, your fingers brushing gently against his jaw, his cheek, his neck. Every feature, each line of his face, every angle was something you could get addicted to. A slow study of a man who somehow never felt like too much. 

You glance up.

He’s standing still, letting you do it, but he’s no longer meeting your eyes.

Now he’s the one who can’t make eye contact.

And it’s… adorable.

He’s quiet under your touch, eyes lowered, breath just a little more shallow than before. You can tell he’s holding back. Holding himself still, as if afraid that leaning into your hand might unravel something he’s worked hard to keep together.

The way his lashes flutter when your fingers graze the curve of his jaw. The way his shoulders tense, then ease, like he’s trying not to sink into the warmth of being seen.

He’s touch-starved. You can feel it, not in desperation, but in the aching restraint. The way his fists clenched and unclenched as if to distract himself. 

And you’re not much better off. Your hand lingers, thumb brushing the edge of his cheekbone, and you’re forced to get a hold of yourself.  

“I’m, uh… all done,” you say, pulling your hands away from his face. You see the way his shoulders drop just slightly as he deflates, but you don’t read into it.

Bob nods, almost like he’s coming out of a trance. Like he can finally breathe again. “Well… thanks,” he says, voice soft.

You offer a quick, awkward smile, and then you’re scurrying your way out of his room like you’ve just committed a felony.

Because, honestly? Being that close to Bob felt like grounds for something dangerous. Emotional trespassing, maybe. Or reckless heart behaviour.

He was too fine for his own good.

And way, way too fine for your good.

***

Bob was always there for you, the most supportive presence anyone could wish for. So when you crashed into his room late at night, just as he’d finally started to fall asleep, he wasn’t mad. Not even close.

“There’s a spider in my room!” you declared, breathless and dramatic.

“It’s midnight…” Bob mumbled, mid-yawn, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Exactly! Imagine my surprise when it came lunging at me from inside my wardrobe. I tried to catch it, but the stubborn fucker escaped and crawled up my wall like it owned the place.”

He blinked at you, then sighed and swung his legs out of bed, already standing. His hair was messy, and his t-shirt clung a little unevenly from sleep. His steady steps led toward your door.

“It’s fine. You can hide behind me,” he said with a soft smile.

Then he casually and instinctively took your hand.

And just like that, something settled in your chest. His hand was warm, steady, and strong. His fingers laced through yours like it was the most natural thing in the world. You could’ve let him hold it for hours.

You followed closely behind, using him shamelessly as a human shield. “Where is it?” he asked, already scanning your room like a man on a mission.

“There,” you pointed, spotting the tiny monster halfway up the far wall. “That’s him. The bold bastard.”

Bob narrowed his eyes and, without hesitation, lifted gently off the floor. You blinked. It still caught you off guard, seeing him use his powers. You hadn’t seen him even float since that day. And now here he was, levitating to defeat a spider for you.

It was more than just endearing.

It was… kind of ridiculously attractive.

He could’ve pulverised it. Turned it to dust without blinking. But instead, he hovered close, cupped it carefully in his hands like it was something fragile, and opened the window to let it go. 

Why the fuck was that so hot?

“Thanks…” you said softly, watching him touch back down, the faintest smile still on his lips.

He looked at you, all sleepy eyes and soft concern. “It’s no problem,” he said, his voice low. “Plus, I kind of liked saving you.”

Your heart did a little twist. You swallowed.

“This is… and you are completely within your right to say no, but…”

He tilted his head slightly, curious.

“Would you stay the night?” you asked, trying to sound casual. “You know. Just to protect me from any future spider insurgencies.”

His smile widened, just a little. “Well,” he said, moving closer, “can’t leave you defenceless now, can I?”

You smile and shift slightly, making enough space for him in the bed. He hesitates for only a moment before settling beside you, the mattress dipping under his weight.

You stare at him, his face softly illuminated by the distant glow of streetlights and the scattered lights of other buildings outside the window. His messy hair is fanned out against your pillow, and you can feel his body heat slowly merging with yours, a quiet warmth that pulls you in like gravity.

“Why’d you come and get me? Why not someone else?” Bob asks, his voice gentle as he turns toward you, rolling a little closer.

“You’re the one I want protecting me from evil spiders,” you answer honestly. No one else even came to mind. The moment you were scared or the least bit unsure, you could always turn to Bob. It was like instinct. 

“Why?” he presses, softer this time. He’s not looking at you now, his gaze shifted to the ceiling. You take a moment to just look at him—his side profile, the way his jaw tenses like he’s bracing for something, the small crease between his brows.

“Because…” you begin, the words slow. You pause, focusing on all the little things you like about him. His kindness, his dry humour, his quiet strength, and the way he always seems to make you feel calm.

Maybe it’s because it’s too late at night. Maybe it’s the safety of the dark. Maybe it’s the way your brain feels hazy and open and ready.

But the next words out of your mouth are:

“I like you.”

Bob freezes for a second, then jumps just a little, like the words caught him off guard. He slowly turns his head to look at you, his expression unreadable at first.

He doesn’t say anything right away. Just stares.

And you wait. Heart in your throat. Every second, stretching. Either he was about to tell you he felt the same… or this was the moment your friendship shattered.

“I like you too,” he says.

His voice is soft and low, like he’s afraid saying it too loud might wake him from a dream. But his eyes are steady. And you can tell that he’s telling the truth.

You scoot closer, close enough to feel the way your breath mingles.

“So…” you murmur, lips twitching into the ghost of a smile, “what should we do about this little situation we’ve got ourselves in?”

Your heart is pounding so loudly, you’re sure he can hear it.

He leans in just a little, voice almost a whisper.

“I think we know.”

Tentatively, he reaches out, fingers brushing your cheek with a touch so careful it makes your breath catch. He looks at you like really looks at you as if trying to memorise the moment, commit it to something deeper than memory.

You exhale, slow and steady, and let yourself give in. You lean forward until your lips finally meet.

It’s soft at first, the kind of kiss that makes your heart soar and your whole body ache with relief. Bit by bit, it becomes more passionate as you melt into one another.  He deepens it, cupping your face fully in his hands, pulling you closer like he’s afraid you might disappear if he lets go.

And before you know it, you’re climbing into his lap, your arms around his shoulders, his hands steady at your waist. Everything feels like too much and just enough all at once.

He pauses, just barely pulling back, breath ghosting against your lips.

“Are you sure?” he asks, voice husky, careful, but laced with something vulnerable.

You meet his gaze, no hesitation. You were in this for the long haul.

“More than anything.”

The next day, upon seeing Bob’s door wide open and no Bob anywhere to be seen, the team went into immediate panic mode. They searched high and low, worried he’d disappeared on them in the middle of the night.

“Have you seen—?” Yelena begins, swinging open your door mid-sentence, only to stop dead in her tracks at the sight of you and Bob fast asleep, wrapped up in each other’s arms.

The rest of the team crowds in behind her, eyes wide, jaws dropping.

You jolt awake at the sound, blinking in confusion as you realise the entirety of the Avengers are now in your doorway.

You shriek, diving under the covers and yanking them up to your chin to salvage whatever dignity you have left. “Privacy! Ever heard of it?!”

“Called it,” Ava and John say in perfect sync, like they just won a bet.

You groan, your entire face heating as you sink lower into the sheets, mortified.

Meanwhile, Bob? Still fast asleep, completely unbothered by the intrusion, his arm still draped across your waist like nothing’s changed. How is he sleeping through this?

You glance at him in disbelief, then back at the group.

“Can everyone get out now?!”

Yelena smiles. “We’re so happy for you two.”

“Out!”

Masterlist

[luveline]

Hi Jade! (I’ve sent this before so ignore if you aren’t into it) just thinking about a bau!reader (maybe shy!reader??) who’s dating post-prison Spencer but didn’t know him before prison and she sees some footage of season one Spencer (maybe they need to refer to a recording of a previous case?) and she’s just dying at how cute he is 🥹

You’ve barely woken up with your face in a solid shoulder when Spencer’s turning around.

“Don’t,” he says when you whine, slipping a familiar hand over your hip. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Too early to make fun of me.” 

“Do you think I’m making fun of you?” 

His talking warms your nose where his head is angled down. Your skin smarts with goosebumps as he trails his hand lightly up your back, down again, the slowest, tumbling touch. You shiver, and Spencer, ever so slightly devious in love, says, “Oh, you’re cold?” with great pity as he pulls you closer. 

You rub your face against his shoulder. “Sorry.” 

“Why?”

“I smell.” 

He hums. “Sort of. Not like sweat, though. You smell like sleep.” His lips touch your cheek.

He lets you ‘warm up’ in his arms for a few minutes, then however long you doze for, lost and too comfortable to bother even trying to wake up properly. Your phone pings a couple of times after it comes out of sleep mode, a sure sign you’ve overslept, but Spencer doesn’t make you move until your stomach growls. 

“Come on,” he says, kissing your nose and slipping you back onto your side of the bed. “I’ll make breakfast.” 

“It’s nearly twelve.” 

“You just woke up, and it’s the first thing you’re gonna eat. You are breaking your fast. Breakfast.” He looks pretty even through achy, tired eyes, all the sleep crusted in your lashes no match for Spencer Reid. How you went so long without knowing him is a mystery. 

You get up only because he told you to and because he looked quite lovely when he did it, not because you want to. The bed is warm, that pit of his arms calling your name, but Spencer’s already rolling out of bed with an eager hand scratching through his hair. Sweat has made them tight and a little darker in the back. You’ll both have to shower at some point, preferably after he’s made you breakfast in bed. 

He can see your expectations on your face, and he laughs as he pulls a t-shirt on over his head. “Get up! I’m not bringing it up here, do you know how badly your sleep cycle is affected when you start doing the wrong things in bed?” 

“What counts as the wrong thing?” 

Spencer laughs again, softer now, and for a moment he traces your face with his eyes without speaking. “Fine,” he says, waving a hand at you as he makes for the bedroom door, “stay there. But only ‘cos you look so pretty!” 

“Thank you!” you call back. 

This time with Spencer isn’t enough. You need ten more years of this, thirty, fifty, you need to wake up in his arms and have him touch you and tickle your cheek with his breath. He’s too far to have him come back, so you resign to hugging him when he returns. 

Your phone pings again, drawing your attention finally. The first notification is a reminder to buy toothpaste today at the grocery store. The second is a text from a friend, the third an email. It’s one from last night that piques your interest, another friend, full capital letters: HELP. 

Her use of a laughing emoji defers any urgency. You click on the text thread and scroll up, puzzled by her previous messages, a link, and a caption: oh my god he was so dorky??? 

You open the video and feel your breath catch in surprise. 

Is that Spencer?

You're not stupid, you’ve seen photos of him and his friends together dotted around the apartment from over the years, and every time you come across that photo of him and Diana at a spelling bee with his huge black-framed glasses you have to laugh, but it’s different seeing him to hearing him. 

He’s so nervous. You can’t understand what it is he’s saying, something about mathematical components to profiling criminals. Jason Gideon stands in the background watching him closely. 

“There’s actually a good joke that–”

“Spencer,” Gideon reprimands. 

You watch in awe as Spencer stammers an apology, his cheeks a little pink. You’ve seen Spencer blush, but this feels different. He looks so young. His hair is straight as a pin. 

“Spencer, did you used to straighten your hair?” you call, hoping he can hear you over the sound of a frying pan popping in the kitchen. “Or do you have a perm now, or what?” 

“What!” 

“I’m confused on the logistics of your hair!” You feel something weird in your chest as on screen Spencer tucks a stray strand of hair behind his ear. It’s a mixture of wanting to eat him and wanting to reach through the screen to stroke his cheek with your thumb. 

Spencer treks back into the bedroom with his pink and white pinstripe apron over his shirt and sweatpants. He smells like cinnamon sugar already. “What are you talking about?” 

“My friend found a video of you and Jason at one of those lectures you did.” 

Spencer presses his lips together. For a moment, he doesn’t speak. “I didn’t do any lectures.”

“Uh, yes you did, liar, and you looked so cute.” You turn your phone to him. “So sweet.” 

He marches to the bed. Before you can stop him, he’s taking the phone from your hand, giving you the world's silliest, tiniest shove when you try to get it back. 

“Cruel,” you quip. 

Spencer stares at the phone screen, then you, “Sorry,” he says, turning pink, “I don’t know why I did that, just– I just–” He frowns deeply. “Can you stop smiling like that?” 

You climb onto your knees, a morning disaster, but when you wrap your arms around Spencer’s waist he looks at you like you’re perfect. His eyes soften, brows relaxing, his irises like dark dimes that slowly dilate as he looks you over. Your phone presses into your back, his arm wrapping around you. 

“You were adorable,” you say sincerely. 

“Not anymore?” 

You rub your cheek against his apron. “No, you still are. Let me watch the video again.” 

“Not a chance.” 

[rafesangelita]

♡ covering stepbro!rafe’s mouth while you ride him

warnings: rafe lecturing you lol, unprotected sex, groping, spanking, hair pulling, biting, teasing (?), cream pie

a/n: inspired by this p!link ૮ . . ྀིა⁩ send me a message or an ask if you’d like an invite to join my private community!!

“what the fuck are you doing?!” rafe rolled over upon hearing his bedroom door open, his eyes widening when he saw you walk in completely naked. “what?” you pouted, crawling into his bed. “you can’t just walk around like that, are you crazy?!” he shot up, making sure his door was locked before pinching the bridge of his nose. “our rooms are right next to each other.. no one saw me if that’s what you’re worried about.” rafe scoffed, shaking his head before grabbing ahold of your arm. “it doesn’t matter! anyone could’ve walked out of their rooms, and then what?!” you swatted his hands away, rolling your eyes.

you always found it ironic for rafe to act like he didn’t want you in his space, considering he had no problem taking up all of yours. “are you really gonna act like you don’t want me in here right now?” you batted your eyelashes at him, trailing a hand up his forearm as he sighed in defeat. “i just wanted to see you..” rafe blinked slowly, his eyes catching the way you bit your bottom lip as you palmed him through his underwear. you made things so hard for him, it was impossible to resist you. “please, let me use you, my fingers aren’t enough, ray,” rafe groaned, imagining you touching yourself next door, “i’m so wet already, you don’t have to do anything..”

like always, rafe let you have your way, both of you now laying in his sheets as you lined him up with your entrance. “you can’t make a sound, i mean it this time— holy shittt.” you smiled when rafe cursed under his breath, his hands resting in the curves of your hips as you sunk down onto his cock. pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw, you clamped a hand over his mouth as you started a steady pace, both of you moaning in unison. you were clenching around him so tight, rafe swore he could empty his load right then and there. “looks like you’re the one who has to be quiet—”

as if on cue, you shrieked when rafe thrusted into you from below, your clit pressing against his pubic bone as he wrapped a fist into your hair. knitting your eyebrows together, your mouth fell open as he started slamming his hips into your own. sitting up and pulling you up along with him, you bit into his shoulder as he locked your hands behind your back, prompting you to sit helplessly as he fucked you into oblivion. rafe ignored the sting of pain shooting up from his shoulder to his neck, the tension in his stomach threatening to release with every cry of his name.

you two were so fucked already when it came to keeping your depraved little ‘arrangement’ a secret, rafe knew it was pointless to shut you up even if he tried. landing a harsh smack to the flesh of your ass, he groped you in the same spot until you kissed him sloppily, your own high hitting you with an unforgivable force. rafe’s face scrunched up as if he was in pain even though he was experiencing anything but, and finally let go, his cum spurting inside of you as your walls fluttered around his length.

pulling out hastily, you gasped when he pushed you onto your back, both of you looking down as you two watched his seed dribble out of your glistening cunt. running his tongue over his bottom lip, rafe held your thighs open as he used his cock to gather his cum and glide it up and down your pretty folds. sighing contentedly, you looked up at rafe and felt your stomach erupt in butterflies when you saw that he was already looking at you. “you’re nothing but trouble, you know that?”

[myfictionaldreams]

⁀➷ Sticky Fingers // Poly!Marauders x F!Reader

Summary: Sirius had his little stash of enchanted sweets that he always claimed were "too strong for you." But you want to feel what he feels, to have fun like they do when they're soft and floaty and grinning. So when you’re left alone and curious, you make a mistake, eating an entire magical aphrodisiac meant to be split between four. What follows is hours of heat, begging, and unbearable need.

Requested by: Anon -- listen, I appreciate & loved this request so much omg, thank you so much! I hope it's not too much for you <3

A/N: PSA; LMAO this is filthy as hell.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, Dom!Remus, Mean Switch!Sirius, Soft Switch!James, Innocent!Reader, dom/sub, drug use (smoking weed/edibles), aphrodisiac, sex pollen effects, extreme body reaction, size kink/difference, begging, crying, rough sex, praise kink, degradation, fingering, belly bulge, squirting, cockwarming, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, subspace, aftercare, slight angst

Words: 6.7k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

The Gryffindor common room was warm with an orange hue from the fire, and faint laughter crackling beneath the noise of pages turning. 

You sat curled in the crook of James’s lap, your cheek against his chest as he read aloud from one of your shared textbooks, his voice steady and comforting, even though you weren’t listening anymore.

Sirius was pacing nearby, fidgety and barefoot, hair mussed from where he kept tugging on it. His shirt was barely buttoned, and he had that smug look that always meant he was up to something.

Remus sat curled sideways in the armchair with his long legs hanging over the armrest. The Marauder watched Sirius with the patience of a saint and the suspicion of someone who knew him far too well. 

“So when exactly were you going to tell us?” Remus asked, lazily turning a page in his worn copy of The Hobbit.

Sirius grinned and flopped dramatically into the chair opposite. “Shipment came in this morning. You should’ve seen the owl. Grumpy bastard nearly bit me.

Remus’s brows lifted. “And what exactly did this grumpy owl bring you, hmm?”

James snorted against your temple. “Something that’s going to get us all banned from the tower if McGonagall catches wind of it.”

Sirius wiggled his eyebrows and leaned over to tap the side of his nose. “Let’s just say, the good stuff. Two rolls and three little boxes, plus the new batch of glitter ones. Stronger than last time.”

You blinked, sitting up slightly from James’s chest. “Glitter ones?”

All three of them paused, the kind of pause that made it very obvious they’d forgotten you were in the room.

Sirius immediately flashed you a charming, toothy grin. “Nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about, darling.”

James kissed the side of your head, smoothing a hand down your back. “Just stuff we use to unwind. Not really your thing, love.”

Remus, of course, watched you closest. His green eyes flicked over your expression, studying the soft knit of your brows, the way your lips parted just slightly. 

“You’re curious,” he said simply.

You ducked your head back into James’ chest, cheeks going warm. “A little.”

Sirius barked a laugh, and James squeezed you gently. “Our little pup wants to go to the moon with us, eh?”

Remus didn’t laugh. His voice lowered just enough to draw your eyes to him. “Curious is one thing. Ready is another.”

~~~~~

The Astronomy Tower always felt like their place. Above the school, above the rules – high enough that it felt like the stars were listening. Sirius had a blanket spread on the stone floor and his cloak wrapped around his shoulders, loose like a shawl. He passed the joint to James with practised ease, laughing around a story you weren’t following.

James sat beside you this time, his hand playing absently with yours. You were snuggled between him and Remus, your head tucked on Remus’s shoulder, both of them warm in the cool night air.

Sirius exhaled smoke toward the stars. “Felt like the first time I saw Reg got absolutely slaughtered on firewhisky. Poor bastard tried to flirt with a mirror.”

James howled with laughter, and even Remus let out a soft chuckle as you rocked with the movement.

You watched them quietly, now hugging your knees to your chest, oversized jumper keeping you warm. They all looked so comfortable, maybe the thing they were smoking smelled funny, but you wanted to feel it too. Feel as relaxed and laugh as hard as they did.

Sirius caught you watching and winked. “Want some, darling?”

You hesitated. “I… maybe? I want to feel what you’re all feeling.”

Remus shifted beside you, his hand heavy against your shoulder, pulling your body until you’re flush against his chest, relaxing into his arms. “It’s not just the joint, love.”

You look up at him over your shoulder, “I thought what you were smoking was making you all feel funny?”

Sirius held up the joint between his fingers. “This, yeah. But I also took a little gummy about an hour ago.” 

He grinned, proud of himself. “The kind that makes everything feel like clouds and lava all at once.”

James added helpfully, “We took them together before dinner, and mine just kicked in.”

You blinked. “So you’re not just high, you're extra high?”

“Basically, yes,” Sirius passed the joint to James, who took another slow drag, tilting his head toward the sky as he exhaled. “Which is why, love, you might want to wait. This stuff’s not for baby puppies.”

“I’m not a baby,” you mutter, leaning further into Remus with your arms crossed.

Remus’s gaze was sharp, though his touch around your waist was gentle. “No. But you’re ours. And we don’t want you to rush into something you don’t understand.”

James flicked ashes into a little enchanted jar. “We should show her the stash. So that she knows what’s what.”

“Not up here,” Remus said immediately. “Late, maybe. With all of us.”

James leans over, nuzzling your cheek and whispering, “We’ll take care of you, yeah? Always.”

You melt into his touch, giggling to yourself as he kisses all over your face.

Back in the dorm later, the boys let you sit on the edge of their bed as Sirius knelt beside the bottom drawer of his trunk, unlocking it with a quiet flick of magic.

Inside was a velvet-lined box. Several, actually.

Your eyes went wide.

“This,” Sirius began, holding up a shimmery purple chocolate, “is one of the glitter ones. Warmth, light body float, extra giggly.”

He picked up a deep blue one. “This? Time goes weird. Don’t recommend unless you’ve got nothing to do for twelve hours.”

The third is glittery pink, pretty. “This is one I had earlier. Not too strong, just makes you feel happy and relaxed.”

Another, red and shaped like a heart. “This one’s a little special. I was saving it. Makes you, well, hot. All over. Can’t think straight. Touch feels like lightning. Fun for group nights.”

You’re left with more questions than answers, “Hot?”

Remus’s hand slid gently over your lower back. “Aroused, sweetheart.”

“Oh,” you breathed, eyes wide.

Sirius grinned wolfishly and snapped the box shut. “But not for you, not yet.”

James chuckled, pulling you into his lap. “Not until our good girl is ready. And when you are…” 

He brushed his lips to your ear, biting on the lobe. “We’ll take care of every inch of you.”

Remus leaned down and kissed your forehead like a promise. “No rushing. No pressure.”

Sirius blew out a breath and flopped backwards onto the bed. “Can’t believe we’re this responsible now. Look at us.”

“Shocking,” Remus deadpanned.

You giggled and curled closer to James, your head on his chest as he rubbed your back.

And as you eventually drifted off in the tangle of arms and warmth, the drawer with the stash stayed in the corner of your mind. Tucked away. Waiting.

~~~~~

The sun was lazy and warm, stretching gracefully across the Hogwarts lawn. It was a rare afternoon, no rain, no wind, no assignments due, just grass, light and the soft hum of spring. 

You were curled sideways in Sirius’s lap on a blanket they’d laid out beneath a tree, his arms draped lazily around your waist, his chin hooked over your shoulder. He smelled like cedarwood, smoke and the last of his cologne, and he was warm–too warm, probably, with how the sun bathed the back of his black humper. Not that he cared. Sirius loved the drama of melting for you.

Remus was stretched out nearby, one knee bent, flipping lazily through Advanced Potion Brewing, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up past his forearms so a couple of his scars were visible. James sat beside him, close enough that their legs brushed, his fingers plucking bits of grass and twirling them around. His hair was wild from Quidditch practice, cheeks still flushed pink from exertion.

Sirius blew on your neck. “You’re squirmy today, darling.”

“I’m not,” you mumbled, shifting again to get comfortable. “You’re warm.”

“You love my warmth.”

“I love your mouth shut,” Remus mused without looking up from his book.

“Rude,” Sirius chuckled against your ear. “You hear that? Verbal abuse. In front of a lady.”

James snorted. “You deserve worse, Padfoot.”

“You usually give me worse,” Sirius purred.

That earned a flicker of reaction. Remus’s eyes slid sideways, just enough to pin James in place.

“You do?” you asked softly, turning your head toward James. James’s ears turn pink.

“I mean, sometimes,” he said, tossing the grass away and sitting back. “When Moony lets me.”

Remus’s lips quirked. “When you earn it.”

You felt Sirius’s arms tighten around your waist slightly as he watched them, interest spiking like a cat watching prey. “Here we go,” he whispers into your shoulder.

Remus sat up slowly, his gaze still trained on James. “You’re getting twitchy again, love.”

“I’m fine,” James said a little too quickly, his hands now picking at the hem of his shirt.

“Mm,” Remus reached out, caught Jame’s chin gently between his long fingers, and turned his face to look up at him. “That mouth’s getting cheeky. You sure you don’t need help with that?”

James opened his mouth to sass, but Remus kissed him before he could get the words out. Firm, slow, all knowing. James melted instantly. His hands dropped, and you could see the tension leave his body in waves as Remus deepened the kiss.

Sirius chuckled lightly to himself, clearly delighted. “Gods, I love when he goes soft like that.”

You were watching, wide-eyed, as James whimpered against Remus’s mouth, just once, and Remus took that as an invitation to push him gently backwards until James was leaning on his elbows, staring up like he couldn’t remember what the sky looked like.

“Is he…” You trailed off.

“Melting?” Sirius answered, “Yeah, it happens every time.”

Remus finally pulled back, licking his bottom lip like he was tasting victory as James was flushed and slightly stunned.

“You already, pretty boy?” Remus asked softly.

James blinked, “Yeah.”

Sirius grinned, nuzzling your cheek, “I adore watching them. Don’t you?”

You nodded slowly, heat pooling in your belly. The air felt warmer. Everything felt more.

You shifted in Sirius’ hold, curling in closer, and said before you could chicken out. “So if I wanted to try the glitter one, I’d just take a quarter, right?”

Everything stilled. Sirius barked a laugh and leaned his head back, grinning toward the sky. “Merlin, that’s adorable.”

Remus turned his head slowly, one brow lifting. “A quarter?”

“That’s what you said, Sirius–”

“I said a quarter of the purple one if you’re new, not the glitter,” he corrected, smirking. “The glitter one will have you think you’re a mermaid and trying to swim in the sink. It’s euphoric and bright and made, absolutely not starter level.”

James sat up again, still slightly flushed in the cheeks. “Isn’t the glitter one that makes everything smell like strawberries?” 

“No,” Sirius said dramatically. “That’s the fizzy. Gods, none of you ever listen to me.”

Remus was now just watching you, head tilted slightly. “Do you even remember what the shimmer one does, love?”

You take a moment to think, “Hands glow?”

“Nope,” Sirius said gleefully, enjoying this moment far too much.

Remus gave you a look that was all affection, all fondness, but with just enough edge to remind you who was in charge. “Not quite ready yet, pup.”

You pouted, turning slightly to tuck your face into Sirius’s neck. “I’m trying.”

“I know,” Remus said gently. “And I love that you’re curious. Bu we’ll wait.”

James scooted forward and kissed your knee. “You’ll get there, sweetheart. And when you do…”

Sirius whispered against your ear, “We’ll make it a very good night.”

You squirmed, suddenly shy again. Sirius gave a lot to him and looked back toward James and Remus, watching the lingering way Remus’s hand rested on James’s thigh now. “Well. Somebody’s getting marked tonight.

James groaned and chucked a flower at him. Remus looked entirely unbothered. 

Then the bell rang, echoing faintly through the grounds.

James sighed. “Quidditch. Come on, Padfoot. Let the poor girl go.”

Remus stood and stretched. “Prefect rounds.”

Sirius helped you to your feet and kissed your cheek. “Be good.” He winked. “Or don’t. We’ll find out later.”

James kissed you twice, once on the cheek, once on your lips, and whispered, “Our girl.”

Remus’s hand trailed briefly along your lower back as he passed. “We love you. No exploring the drawers while we’re gone.” 

Your cheeks burned. “I won’t!”

They walked away with teasing murmurs and shoulder bumps, Sirius turning around to blow you a kiss before Remus shoved him forward. 

You sat back down in the grass with the scent of them still lingering in the breeze, heart whole, belly warm.

An hour passed before you stood from the lawn and decided to head back to the shared dorm room. It was always eerily quiet without any of them in there.

Sirius had left a mess of clothes scattered across the floor, his leather jacket draped over Remus’s desk chair, and James’s broom sat resting against the foot of his bed. The scent still lingered on the pillows, and it was comforting, but not enough to last.

You were curled in the centre of their oversized bed, arms hugging your legs, chin tucked between your knees. Why was it always so boring when they weren’t around?

You did try just to relax, listening to Remus’s records or reading some of your books, but the drawer kept catching your eye.

Maybe you weren’t ready. But you were tired of feeling left out and being treated like a baby. They all got to float and laugh and kiss and touch each other like nothing in the world could ever go wrong. And you watched that.

You watched to show them you could handle it, that you weren’t just the sweet, sheltered pup. You could be bold. You could belong.

You sat on the edge of the bed, chewing your lip, staring at the drawer like it might open itself.

And then you stood, the drawer wasn’t locked. You opened it slowly, tentatively. Inside the velvet boxes, little tins, colour-coded chocolates and candies lay. You tried to remember which one was which. 

“Purple. Quarter. Starter one.”

You squirted. Was the purple one the shimmer? Or the calm one? Your eyes landed on a deep red heart-shaped sweet in a velvet box. Small. Pretty. Safe-looking, not remembering the specifics of the effects that Sirius had explained.

You plucked it out of the pouch and turned it over in your hand. You bit off a corner, just a nibble. Then, another little bite until the sweet was consumed completely.

It tasted like a blend of rose and strawberry, with a slight hint of spiciness, and your heart pounded as you waited, but nothing happened.

No floating, no laughing or waves of bliss. 

Your shoulders sank. “Seriously?”

You gave it a few more minutes, paced a little, even sat cross-legged on the bed, waiting for anything. But there was no difference. Your tongue still worked. Your mind was clear. Nothing was spinning—no sherbet flavours or dreamy sighs.

Disappointed, you changed into your uniform and headed down to dinner.

The Great Hall was busy, buzzing with students. The candlelight above seemed a little brighter tonight, but you figured it was just your eyes adjusting.

You found them halfway up the Gryffindor table. Sirius immediately scooted over nd patted the bench beside him. “There’s my girl.”

James beamed from the other side of the table. “You look sweet enough to eat.”

Remus gave you a look. A very Remus look. Like he was scanning you for signs of trouble, and your heart did a nervous flutter.

But then he smiled and tugged you gently to sit between him and Sirius. “Missed you.”

“I missed you too,” you said quickly, averting your eyes, always embarrassed when all their eyes are on you.

Sirius leaned over and kissed your temple tenderly, and your breath caught. For just a moment, your skin tingled.

Weird.

You tried to shake it off. It was probably just your imagination or nerves.

Reaching for your goblet, your hands were just the tiniest bit shaky.

“Eat something,” James encouraged. “You’ve gone all flushed.”

“She always does when she has Remus’ full attention on her,” Sirius says proudly, planting another kiss on your skin. “Don’t worry, pup, I do too.” 

You smiled, biting back a laugh, and then you felt it.

 A low throb in your belly.

You shifted on the bench. Remus was buttering a roll. His hand brushed your knee under the table—just casual, absent-minded affection.

You nearly jolted. Your thighs clenched painfully close. Heat licked up your spine.

You took a shaky breath, eyes flicking to the doorway, the ceiling, anywhere but them.

Sirius reached across you to steal a bite from James’s plate, his arm brushing your chest. “Oi, Prongs, don’t hot the potatoes, love.”

James rolled his eyes and leaned across the table closer to you, reaching over the centre to grip your hand. It was meant just to be a soft show of affection. That’s when you felt it for real.

The ache. Low. Deep. Hot.

Your underwear was damp. Then soaked. Like a tap had opened up between your thighs, but it was from your cunt. You froze. Your thighs were wet.

Your stomach cramped sharply, curling inward like a clenched fist. “Oh god,” you whispered, not being able to stop yourself.

Remus looked at you sharply. “What’s wrong?”

You forced a smile, unable to meet his eye, picking up your fork. “N-Nothing. Just a stitch.”

Sirius leaned in closer. “You alright, darling?”

Your eyes burned. Panic bloomed in your chest. You could feel it pooling beneath you, heat, slick, an unbearable pressure in your lower belly as if you needed something and didn’t know what.

You whimpered without meaning to.

Remus’s eyes narrowed, concerned. “Love…”

James’s hand is across the table again, holding onto your wrist, his thumb stroking your skin in soothing strokes. “Wha’ts hurting?”

His touch was making the sensation worse. “ I-I just need–” you couldn’t finish. 

You stood up abruptly. Too fast.

Sirius tried to reach for you, but you were already sliding out of the bench on unsteady legs. “Bathroom,” you choked out. “Be right back.”

And you ran. You bolted from the Great Hall, barely aware of your feet hitting the stone, of the voices calling after you.

Your hands trembled as you pushed open the nearest door and locked it behind you, sagging against it with a sob. 

Your underwear was soaked. Your thighs were dripping. Your clit was a hard nub, filled with blood and throbbing. The cramps were worse, like your body was begging, screaming, clenching for something, but nothing could fix it.

You were shaking so violently that your teeth were chattering together. You slid to the floor, pressing your palm against your belly, trying not to cry.

You were so stupid. You’d wanted to prove something. To feel like them. To be strong, like Sirius. Cool, like James. In control, like Remus. 

But now your body was on fire. And your mind was foggy. And you were so wet that it was running down your legs. And you didn’t even know how to make it stop. 

They were going to be so angry. Or worse, they’d be disappointed. You buried your face in your hands.

Outside, the sounds of the castle continued: laughter, footsteps, the clinking of cutlery. But in here? You were falling apart.

~~~~~

The dorm door slammed behind you as you stumbled inside, your fingers trembling before you collapsed onto the edge of the magically sized bed, big enough for all four of you.

As you curled into a ball, all you could feel was how soaked the sheets became the second you sat down. You were panting. Seating. Your skin was boiling. Every inch of you is too tight, too sensitive. Your thighs were slick with arousal, and your panties were drenched; the cramping in your belly was sharp, needy and awful all at once. 

You whimpered and clutched at your stomach. “Please…”

You didn’t know who you were begging. Everything hurt. You needed something, anything, to make the pain go away; you just didn’t know what to do.

You’d been stupid. So stupid.

The door suddenly bangs again—voices and rushed steps.

You barely lifted your head before they were flooding in.

“Pup?” All three of your boyfriends stopped dead.

You were curled up on the bed, trembling, your skirt bunched around your hips, one leg pulled up, and your panties were completely soaked, nearly translucent, sticking to your thighs.

The scent of your arousal hit the air like a spell. Sirius was the first to move, instinct sharp and immediate. “Fuck. Fuck, darling–” he was at your side in seconds, on his knees in front of the bed, hands hovering but not touching. “What happened?”

You sobbed, grabbing at his shirt, nails digging into the fabric. “I don’t know. I don’t know what’s happening– it hurts, I can’t– I’m so– I’m so wet–”

Remus moved slowly, deliberately, coming up behind you as Sirius cradled your face. James hovered near the door, stunned, lips parted.

Then Remus’s eyes flicked to the drawer. It was open. Wide open. And a red velvet box was missing.

Realisation hit him like lightning. “No. Tell me you didn’t–”

“I just– I wanted– to feel like you– to be strong–” your voice cracked, high and frantic. “I only took the one. I thought it was the nice one–”

Sirius's breath hitched. “What colour, love?”

“Red,” you whispered.

James finally moved, crossed the room and dropped to his knees at your other side. “Oh, love–no.”

“That was the aphrodisiac”, Remus said tightly, jaw clenching. “The strongest one.”

Sirius cupped your face gently, his voice tense. “That was meant to be split for the four of us. Together. You weren’t–fuck, darling, you weren’t ready for that.”

“I know,” you whimpered. “I know, I didn’t know– I tried to be good–”

Remus turned to Sirius. “How strong was it?”

“Really fucking strong.”

Your hips rolled without meaning to. “Please–” you sobbed, tears dripping down your neck. “I can’t– everything hurts– I need – please touch me–”

James climbed onto the bed, stroking your face. His hand found your inner thigh, and his breath hitched. “She’s soaked, Moons. Dripping everywhere.”

Remus’s jaw ticked. “We’ll help you, sweetheart. Just breathe for me, year?”

You nodded frantically, gripping onto the pillow beneath your head and moving it between your legs, rocking your soaked core against it, needing some form of relief.

“Good girl,” Sirius said, voice low, eyes locked on where you’re riding his pillow between your thighs. “You’re gonna let us take care of you. You’ve been so brave.” Your body trembled, completely overwhelmed.

You didn’t even realise you were crying until Remus kissed the tears off your cheeks.

“Love,” he tried to remain calm, encouraging as his thumb brushed your soaked lips, “You have to breathe. Deep, slow. You hear me?”

You nodded, but the ache in your cunt was so loud it made everything else feel fuzzy. You were soaked, clenching around nothing, slick running down your thighs, pooling under you, your clit swollen and throbbing. It hurt. Everything hurt in the best and worst ways.

Sirius groaned deeply behind Remus. “She’s fucking ruined already, and we haven’t even touched her.”

James pressed a kiss to your shoulder, his voice soft and close to your ear. “You did so well trying to wait for us, honey. We’ve got you now.”

“I-I need–” you gasped. “It’s not enough, nothing's enough, please–”

Remus’s hand moved down between your thighs, two fingers flipping through your soaked folds, “Fuck, you’re burning up, love.”

You whimpered at the slightest contact, throwing the wet pillow across the room to give Remus more room.  His fingers hadn’t even pushed in fully yet, just brushed past your clit as your hips jerked, another gust of juices coating his scarred knuckles.

“Sensitive little thing,” Sirius purred. “Bet your clit’s screaming, huh? All swollen and throbbing, my poor pup.”

“Please–” you sobbed again. “I’m sorry, I just-I just wanted to feel what you do–”

“And now you’re stuck, hm?” Sirius cooed mockingly. “Look at you. Our precious girl’s just a fuckdoll now. Dumb and leaking.”

Remus shot him a look, but Sirius didn’t stop; he just looked hungry. James kissed your temple, helping you stay focused and grounding you in the process. “We’ll help you, my love. You’re notion trouble. Just let Moony take the lead.”

Remus nodded once, getting into the headspace. “James, make sure the pillows are under her head and then get her legs up, keep her thighs open.”

“On it.”

“Sirius, grab the towels, she’s going to soak through the sheets.”

“Already is,” Sirius chortled, but obeyed.

Remus’s fingers slid inside you, just two, and the sensation was already too much, not from pain but from relief.

“Shh, I’ve got you,” he said, voice low and soothing, but his cock was visibly straining behind his trousers.

Your inner walls, warm and tight, clenched immediately, spasming hard enough that you nearly came on the spot. Remus stilled. “You’re not even going to last, are you?” he said in the kindest way, eyes locked on where his fingers were sunk to the knuckle. “That desperate, you’re going to cum from just this?”

“More–” you shouted, head tipping back onto the pillows James had fluffed. “Please, it’s not– Remus–more–”

He pushed a third finger in. Your whole body shook.

James kissed your knee as he held it back. Sirius slides beside you again, licking a drop of sweat from your cheek. “Look at you. Messy little thing.”

Then came the fourth finger. You came hard, a violent, gusting squirt that soaked Remus’s hand and frenched the towel Sirius had shoved under your hips. Your scream cracked, raw and high, your thighs shaking uncontrollably as you tried to catch your breath.

“There she is,” Sirius bragged, watching your juices drip down Remus’ wrist. “I told you she was ready for four.”

Remus didn’t move, but just held his fingers inside you as you trembled and whimpered, blinking up at him as your tears still fell. “You’re still clenching, are you still not done?”

You shook your head frantically, “It’s not enough.”

Sirius leaned in, grinning, “Greedy little pup, aren’t you? Bet you’d take five if Moony let you. You’d fucking split for it, wouldn’t you?”

Remus shot him a warning glance. “No one’s putting five fingers in her.”

“But she wants it,” Sirius said mockingly, kissing your temple like it was a prize. “Poor baby doesn’t know what to do with herself.”

“I’ll show her what she needs.”  Remus pulled his fingers out with a wet, squelching sound. You whined at the loss, trying to chase his hand with your hips. He stripped off his shirt, then unbuckled his belt, eyes never leaving you. His cock was massive, girthy and flushed.

You moaned, reaching for him. “Please–need to be full–”

“Deep breathe, love.” His voice held a gentleness that calmed your soul but still had authority. “You’re going to take it. But I’m not rushing and hurting my girl.”

He lined up and began pressing in, so slowly. Too slowly. You thrashed beneath him, tears in your eyes, trying to roll your hips to take more, but James still held you open firmly, keeping you in place.

Remus groaned, his eyes closing for just a second as his hair began to stick to the perspiration on his forehead. “You’re squeezing me so tight already. Try to relax for me.”

James stroked your inner knee as your lips parted in a silent scream. “She’s gripping him like a vine. Baby, you’ve got to relax for him, if you want him so bad.”

“Can’t–feels too good–urts but feels– I want it all–”

He was halfway in when you sobbed, “Remus–please–cock-ned it, need it all. Deeper!”

“You’re taking me so well,” he grunted, “So full already, look.”

He took your hand and placed it just above your pubic bone. You gasped, head shooting up as you felt the slight bulge in your belly. “Feel that?” he said, breathless. “That’s me. Deep in your tiny cunt.”

You came again. Screamed, soaked him, soaked the towel, soaked everything. Remus moaned, finally bottoming out, holding you still as you trembled beneath him, twitching and crying and shaking like you were going to fall apart.

You were shaking when Remus pulled out of you. A fresh gush following him, your pusy stretched and fluttering now, aching for more. You didn’t even get the chance to breathe before the cramps came back. 

Deep, hot, mean little twists low in your belly, like your pussy was begging to be filled again.

“Fuck–” you gasped, back arching, hands clawing for the nearest body. “Please–it hurts again– need–need”

Sirius was on you in seconds. “Shh, pup,” he taunted mockingly, climbing between your spread thighs. “You had the whole sweet, didn’t you? Greedy, greedy girl. Didn't even leave any for us.” 

“Hurts,” you cried, reaching for him. “I can’t–Sirius–need you–”

He sat up, grunting as he slapped his now exposed cock against your swollen clit. The overwhelming lightning of sensations caused you to scream once again, trying to roll your hips, but he grabbed them firmly.

“Stay still, pup,” he warned, licking his lips. “You’re not in charge tonight. I’m going to look after you, remember?”

He looked wrecked, eyes blown wide, clothes gone, pale chest heaving, black strands of hair sticking to the side of his sweaty face, but he was there, so focused on you, so in control.

“You want to cum?" he asked, lazily running the tip of his cock through your soaking labia. “Want to soak me like you did Moony?”

You nodded frantically, mewling pathetically. Sirius just grinned.

“Then you’ll cum when I say so. Not a moment before.”

You nodded desperately, needing him to do anything. “Please–”

“You asked for this, just keep looking at me, ok? So I know you’re still with me, darling," he growled, pushing inside you in a single, brutal thrust.

He was lengthy, hitting something high up in your cunt that made your vision flash white, the slight bulge in your lower belly returning with his movements. “Fuck–she’s tighter than ever," he said, amazed, pulling out and slamming back in. "You’re sucking me in, pup, like your cunt knows I’ll fill it better than anyone.” 

You screamed again, eyes focused on him, trying to do as instructed. And Sirius laughed, a wicked sound as he started fucking you fast. His hips slapped against your overstimulated clit with every thrust. Your body jerked and twisted, eyes rolling back as another orgasm tore through you.

Sirius didn’t even have it in him to chastise you for orgasming with his permission, loving how your body was reacting to him, like it was sucking him in as hard as it could, not wanting to let go. 

“You’re crying?” he cooed, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “Poor thing, so overwhelmed. 

His voice dropped lower, almost tender. “But you’re doing so well for me, darling. Taking it so deep, letting me ruin you. So fucking perfect like this.”

You sobbed, clinging to him. “Love you–love you so much–”

His breath hitched as his movements slowed. “Yeah?” he whispered. “Even when I fuck you like this?”

You nodded, and he groaned like it hurt him. “God, I love you too,” he gasped, snapping his hips into you even harder. “So fucking music, it makes me insane.”

Another orgasm crashed over you, your thighs smappemed in James' hold, your back arched off the bed. You were crying so hard you couldn't speak, couldn't breathe, couldn't stop shaking.

You didn’t even realise he was cumming until you felt it, hot, thick spurts deep inside, and his hand cupping the bulge in your belly with possessive pride.

“Look at you,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “So full, all mine.”

And then as he pulled out, the cramps came back.

Your hands trembled, already crying out in pain, as another body moved over you, the grip on your legs easing slightly.

“J-James," you whimpered for him, blinking up at him with big, wide eyes.

Your thighs were slick and raw. Your clit was throbbing, swollen and untouched for too long.

James kissed you gently, not caring that your face was covered in tears and sweat. “You’re okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

He didn’t tease like Sirius. He knew what you needed, so without a moment of hesitation, he lined up, slid inside in one slow motion, groaning low as he bottomed out. 

With gentler hands, he scooped your legs back up, wrapping them around his waist, holding you still as you fluttered around him, Sirius’s cum mixing with your slick on your thighs.

“You’re so wet, pup. So warm. You feel like heaven.”

You cried out again; he tenderly kissed away your tears. “You’re doing so well,” he whispered against your cheek. “You’ve taken us all like a good girl. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to us. You know that?”

You nod in your delirious state. And then he started to move, not fast and hard but purposeful, making sure you feel the drag of his cock against your sensitive walls. You felt every inch, every praise of love, of devotion as he fucking you through the pain.

“Let go of me,” he said, voice shaking as he kissed the tip of your nose, forehead resting against yours, chest to chest. “Cum on me again, baby. Let me feel you.”

You did, and he followed, soft moans into your ears, his hands shaking as he filled you, holding you tightly. You were sobbing by the end, no longer sure of what, anymore. 

Your body was gone, empty, used and loved. Your brain was cotton. You could feel the cum leaking out of you, the wetness between your thighs a mess of Sirius, James and your juices. You were twitching, limbs weak, moaning softly with every little cramp.

“Hurts again,” you whimpered, exhausted. Remus climbed back onto the bed. 

“I know, love. Let me help you one more time.”

He guided himself back in, being careful, but your body still melted into the touch. The cramps eased instantly.

You sighed, eyes fluttering closed.

“Cocking warming only,” Remus said, brushing your hair from your face. “No more thrusting. Just keeping you full. That’s all.”

James wrapped you in his arms, Sirius pressing kisses to your fingers, your temple, your wrist.

“You did so well for us,” James whispered.

“So proud of you,” Sirius added.”

Remus kissed your lips. “Sleep, little one. We’ll keep you safe.”

And you did.

~~~~~

You weren’t sure what woke you. You were warm, too warm– your skin damp with sweat, your thighs slick and trembling, and your throat burned like you’d been screaming.

You had been. That much came back quickly. So did the ache.

Between your legs, dull and constant, a deep, used soreness that made your breath catch. Your cunt felt raw, sensitive and swollen. Every part of you was heavy and aching and still soaked.

And Remus was still inside you.

You whimpered softly. He stirred at once. “Love?” his voice was a low rasp, thick with exhaustion but sharp with concern. “Are you alright?”

You shook your head, tears springing hot and fast. “Hurts,” you croaked, barely a whisper. “Remus–it hurts…”

He shushed you instantly, cupping your cheek with one warm, steady hand. “I know, I know, baby,” he said calmly. “I’ve got you. Let me out, gonne b quick, alright?”

Not nodding, lip trembling and bracing yourself, not able to relax at all despite his calming words.

Remus eased out slowly. And you cried. Not just from the pain, though the pain was there, in your stretched, raw and puffy hole that leaked his cum from who knows when, and twitched with overuse, but from everything. The pressure, the love, the intensity of your night. You'd never felt so broken open and so held all at once.

The sob hit before you could stop it, and then you were choking on it, sobbing silently, tears streaking down your face as your body curled in on itself. Remus didn't hesitate.

He pulled you to his chest, tucking you against his heart, shielding your overheated body with his own as his lips pressed to your temple.

“I’m so proud of you. You did so good for us, Pup. You were perfect for us. You’re safe now.”

You couldn't speak, your throat so raw that your voice was gone. You could only nod weakly into his chest, gasping softly against his collarbone.

“Is she alright?” came James’s voice a moment later, quieter than usual.

She’s hurting,” Remus said gently. “But I’ve got her. You can go back to sleep, love.”

James hops out of bed, ignoring the suggestion. “Paindraught, I should have one left from my last Quidditch injury.”

Remus sat up just enough to help you sip it from the vial he held to your lips. It was bitter, but cool, and relief came quickly, easing the sharpest edge of the ache. Not all of it, but enough to stop crying and just breathe.

You heard the sound of water pouring into a glass next, and James returned with it, along with a cool rag.

“Hey, honey,” he said, brushing a hand down your back. “You were screaming for hours. Your throat must be raw. Drink for me, okay?”

You did. Then you were lying back again, your head in James’s lap while Remus wiped your sticky thighs gently with a cloth, careful around your swollen pussy. He kissed the inside of your knee. “We’ll bath you later. Just rest for now.”

However, you couldn’t rest, because you had caught sight of Sirius, who hadn’t spoken. Just watched from the edge of the bed, shirtless, arms crossed, eyes dark and aching with guilt.

James caught sight of him too. “Sirius.”

He blinked like he’d been pulled from a daze. “I shouldn’t have– fuck– I knew she wasn’t ready for that much. She had the whale fucking thing. I should’ve labelled it better. I should’ve stopped–” 

“Mistakes happen, and this is not on you, my love,” Remus said, still cleaning your body. “And we all gave it to her last night, not just you.”

“She couldn’t fucking speak,” Sirius whispered, eyes flicking to your body. “She’s never screamed like that before. She basically passed out at the end, Remus.”

“And she’s safe now. We didn’t go too hard on her last night, we were all checking in on her, you know that.”

“But I was mean to her–”

“She loved it,” James cut in, a small, warm smile on his lips. “She always loves it when you’re mean. Because you’re not really, you’re just Sirius, it was just a scene, just in the moment like always.”

Siriu’s mouth twisted like he didn’t believe him. You blinked, still foggy, but reached out a hand toward him. He froze. Then, I crawled down the bed towards you. 

“I’m sorry," he whispered, “I shouldn’t have gone so hard, I should have locked them up. I love you too fucking much to see you in pain like that, Pup.”

You reached out to Sirius, in your tired state, showing him that you wanted to be with him. He instantly pulled your body into his lap, “I’ve got you,” he whispered over and over. “I’ve got you.”

The boys settled around you soon after.  Remus leaned against the headboard, a book in one hand, the other resting on your thigh. James curled at your feet, legs draped over yours, tracing your calf with his fingertips.

And Sirius, he held you like he didn’t want to let go.

[inseobts]

You around kids

fem!reader

characters: zoro, sanji, law, shanks and ace

tags: fluff, light comedy, established relationship, comfort, emotional bonding, humor

a/n: sorry it's all cramped but I reached tumblr's limits of blocks per post, so if you need a easier way to read this, click on the ao3 link!!

words count: around 2.2k - 3.4k each

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

── .✦ Zoro:

The sun is warm but not too hot. A soft breeze plays with your hair as you walk beside Zoro through the busy town streets. The island is new, full of life and color, and the crew has scattered to do their own things. Nami went shopping, Sanji chased after ingredients... or maybe girls, and Luffy? Who knows.

You, on the other hand, just wanted a calm day. A nice walk. No drama. Zoro didn’t have any plans, so he chose to stay with you.

“Didn’t feel like wandering off,” he said with a shrug “Plus, you always get lost.”

“I do not!” you argue with a little laugh.

“You got lost on the ship” he says with a smirk.

You roll your eyes, bumping his arm lightly with your shoulder “That happened once. And you’re the one to talk???”

Zoro just grunts, amused, and keeps walking beside you. His hands are in his pockets, his swords resting at his side like always. He walks with that usual lazy confidence, but you can tell he’s relaxed.

Then, you hear a small cry. Like a kid. You stop walking “Did you hear that?”

Zoro lifts his head “Yeah.”

You both follow the sound, turning down a quieter street. And there, near the side of a fruit stand, is a small boy. He can’t be older than five. His face is red from crying, his small hands wiping at his eyes. He looks scared.

“Hey, sweetie,” you say gently, kneeling in front of him “What’s wrong?”

The boy looks up at you with big teary eyes “M-Mommy’s gone…”

“Oh no,” you whisper “You got separated?”

He nods fast, then suddenly throws his arms around you. You nearly fall back from the sudden hug but Zoro puts a hand on the back of your head, gently, just to keep you balanced.

Zoro’s eyes widen. You glance up at him, then back down at the boy. He’s shaking.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay...” you say, rubbing his back “We’ll help you find her. I promise.”

The boy doesn’t let go. He clings tighter, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear too.

Zoro scratches the back of his neck “You sure about this? We could find a guard or something.”

You give him a look “Zoro, he’s terrified. Would you want a stranger dragging you around if you were five?”

He sighs “Fine. So we’re babysitters now.”

You smile a little “Just until we find his mom.”

Zoro folds his arms, watching the boy with a face that’s trying very hard not to be soft “What’s his name?”

You turn to the boy “Sweetie, what’s your name?”

He sniffs “Kenji.”

“Okay, Kenji,” you say with a warm smile “I’m Y/N and this is Zoro. He’s kind of grumpy, but he’s nice.”

Zoro makes a sound like a scoff, but he doesn’t argue.

Kenji peeks up at Zoro “You have swords…”

Zoro raises a brow “Yeah. Don’t worry. I only use them on bad guys.”

Kenji nods seriously, then looks back at you “You’re really pretty…”

Your face heats up a little. Zoro frowns “Kid, don’t start.”

You laugh, standing up slowly as Kenji keeps his little hand in yours “Alright, let’s find your mom, okay?”

Kenji nods, still holding onto you like you’re his lifeline.

Zoro walks on your other side, still acting cool but every now and then, you catch him glancing down at the kid. And maybe, just maybe, you see a small smile on his face. Just a little one.

You’ve been walking around the town for a while now, asking people if they’ve seen Kenji’s mom. A few shopkeepers shake their heads.

Some say, “Sorry, haven’t seen any woman looking for a kid.”

You try the market square next. No luck there either.

Kenji’s small hand is still in yours, holding tight like he’s afraid to let go. His other hand rubs at his eye now and then, but he’s not crying anymore. Still, he stays close. You’re like his safe space now.

You glance down at him “Kenji, do you remember where you last saw your mom? Were you near a shop?”

He shakes his head slowly “I was looking at fish. Then I turned and she was gone.”

“Fish,” Zoro repeats “That narrows it down to…everywhere.”

You sigh “We’ll keep looking.”

Kenji tugs on your hand “Are you tired? I can walk by myself.”

Your heart melts “I’m okay, Kenji. But thank you.”

Then suddenly he reaches out and grabs Zoro’s hand too and you both freeze. Zoro stares at the small hand holding his, like it’s some kind of bomb.

Kenji doesn’t notice. He just keeps walking like it’s the most normal thing in the world, one hand in yours, one hand in Zoro’s. As if he’s done it a hundred times.

You glance at Zoro, and your face gets warm. Really warm. This…looks kind of cute. No… more than cute. It looks like… a little family.

Zoro’s eye twitches. He knows what it looks like too.

A woman passing by gives you a soft smile “Oh, what a sweet family.”

You nearly choke “Oh! We’re not—uh—we’re just helping—”

Zoro mutters under his breath, “For the love of… please don’t let anyone from the crew see this.”

You whisper back, “Why? Afraid they’ll think you’ve gone soft?”

He scowls “They will. And they’ll never shut up about it.”

But he doesn’t pull his hand away from Kenji’s. Not even when the kid swings his hands a little. You try not to smile too much, but your cheeks still feel hot.

“Y’know,” you say after a moment, “you don’t look that grumpy right now.”

Zoro gives you a side-eye “Say that again and I’ll let you get lost on purpose.”

You grin “Worth it.”

Kenji suddenly asks, “Are you and the sword guy married?”

You and Zoro speak at the same time.

You: “W-what? No!”

Zoro: “Hell no!”

You look at Zoro kinda offended by his tone.

Kenji tilts his head “But you look like it…”

Zoro lets out a long sigh “Kid, you really trying to make my day harder?”

You can’t stop laughing now. Even Zoro, after a beat, smiles just a little. Just enough to make your heart do a little flip.

The sun’s still out, the breeze still nice and you still haven’t found Kenji’s mom, but…you’re doing okay. And as long as the kid keeps walking between you and Zoro, hands held tight, maybe it’s not such a bad way to spend the day.

Kenji’s hand is still snug in yours, and Zoro hasn’t pulled away from the other side either, though his eye twitches every few minutes like he’s trying to pretend it’s not happening.

You’re still wandering through the streets, asking around and scanning every corner for a woman calling out for her son. No luck. Then suddenly, Kenji tugs at your hand and mumbles, “I’m hungry…”

You pause “Oh… right. You haven’t eaten anything.”

Zoro groans immediately “We don’t have time to stop and eat. We’re looking for your mom, remember?”

Kenji’s bottom lip quivers “But… my tummy hurts…”

He rubs his stomach with both hands now, giving you the most tragic look you’ve ever seen. You’re done. Defeated.

“Zoro,” you whisper, “he’s so cute. Let him eat.”

Zoro crosses his arms “He’ll survive. Kids bounce back.”

Kenji grabs your arm again “Please… just a snack?”

Your heart melts into a puddle “Zoroooo…”

Zoro looks at you and you’re doing it too… That look. Eyes wide, soft voice, the tiniest pout. Now both you and Kenji are staring at him like abandoned puppies in the rain.

He curses under his breath “You guys are teaming up on me.”

You say nothing, you just keep pouting. He rubs his face like this is physical pain “Fine. Fine. Twenty minutes.”

Kenji jumps up and cheers “Yay!”

You smile up at Zoro, wrapping your hand around his arm “Thanks, babe. You’re the best.”

He groans again, but you catch the way his ears turn a little red. You head toward a food stall nearby, and as soon as you do, you hear a loud voice call out “Oi! Zoro! Y/N!”

You both turn and there they are.

Luffy and Sanji, carrying way too many bags and snacks.

Sanji’s eyes go wide when he sees the kid. He drops his bags “WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!”

Kenji looks up at you, his mouth full of fried dough “Who’s the loud guy?”

Sanji points dramatically at Zoro “How could you?! You stole her away and now—now you even have a child?!”

Zoro blinks “What are you talking about? Do you know how kids are made?”

Luffy laughs “He looks just like your kid. You’re all holding hands and stuff. It’s so cute! You should make a real one!”

Sanji falls to the ground instantly “I’m dying. I’m literally dead. This is hell.”

You’re laughing too hard to speak.

Kenji, still chewing, leans over to Zoro “Are those your friends? They’re weird.”

Zoro sighs “You have no idea.”

Luffy crouches next to Kenji, nose almost touching his “Heyyy, what’s your name?”

“Kenji!”

“Cool name! You wanna be a pirate?”

Zoro grabs Luffy by the back of his vest and yanks him away “No recruiting children.”

Sanji stands back up, wiping his nose “Mon dieu… Y/N, if you ever decide you want real romance, you know where to find me.”

You smile sweetly “You’d have to fight Zoro for me first.”

Sanji turns pale, not because he’s scared but because you think of Zoro right away “…I’m good.”

Kenji tugs your sleeve again “Are they always like this?”

“Pretty much” you say with a giggle. Zoro mutters, “You get used to it.”

Even as the chaos unfolds, Zoro moves just a little closer to you. His hand brushes against yours again and Kenji, still holding your other hand, starts humming happily between bites.

After the chaos (and mild heartbreak) that was Luffy and Sanji, you wave them off with a tired smile. Sanji is still crying in the background. Luffy’s trying to steal a meat bun from someone’s cart.

“Bye, Kenji!” Luffy shouts cheerfully “Don’t forget to train so you can join my crew!”

“I won’t!” Kenji waves both hands like you’re sending off a ship.

You tug his sleeve gently “Okay, come on. Let’s keep going.”

Zoro mutters under his breath as you walk again, heading farther into the town “Out of everyone… they had to be the ones we run into.”

You smirk “Could’ve been worse.”

“No. That was the worst.”

“Even worse than running into ALL of them together?”

He gives you a sharp side-eye “Don’t push your luck.”

You giggle, swinging Kenji’s hand a little as you walk. He’s full now, calmer, but still sticking to you like glue. Zoro’s hands are back in his pockets, shoulders slightly hunched. He looks like he wants to complain, but he’s still here. That says enough.

Then, out of nowhere, Kenji tugs at your hand and looks up at you seriously “Miss Y/N? Can I call you Mama?”

You freeze. Everything around you stops. The breeze. The street noise. Even Zoro seems to pause mid-step. You blink at him “W-What?”

Kenji looks a little nervous now, like he’s not sure if he’s done something wrong “I know you’re not really… but you’re really nice, and you make me feel safe like my mama does. I miss her…”

Your throat closes. You don’t even know what to say. Tears prick at your eyes so fast you can’t stop them. One slides down your cheek before you can hide it.

You crouch down, hugging him gently, trying not to cry too hard “Kenji… I’m sure your mom misses you too. We’re gonna find her, okay? I promise.”

He nods, leaning into your hug.

Zoro is quiet behind you. For once, not a single sarcastic comment. When you glance up at him, you see that flicker in his eyes. Something soft. Something… careful. He doesn’t say anything. He just looks at you. And somehow, that silence means more than words.

You’re walking again, slowly now. Kenji hums as he walks between you and Zoro, swinging your hands. He’s more cheerful after eating, even skipping a little. It’s almost hard to believe this is the same scared little boy from earlier.

Then you hear a woman’s voice, panicked and breathless “Kenji?! Kenji!!”

All three of you turn around, a woman is running toward you, her eyes wide with worry. Her hair’s a bit messy.

Kenji gasps “Mama!!”

He lets go of both your hands and runs to her. You and Zoro stop walking, watching as he throws himself into her arms. She catches him and falls to her knees, hugging him tightly.

“Oh, thank god,” she whispers, burying her face in his shoulder “I’ve been looking everywhere, Kenji, I was so scared…”

“I’m okay, Mama!” he says brightly “I wasn’t alone!”

You and Zoro stand quietly a few steps away, watching them hold each other. Zoro crosses his arms and says nothing. But his expression is… softer now. Thoughtful.

Then, Kenji turns and grabs his mom’s hand.

“Come on! Come meet them!” he says, tugging her toward you.

She lets herself be pulled along and gives you a teary smile “You… You helped him?”

You nod “Yeah. He was alone and crying. We couldn’t just leave him.”

She presses a hand to her chest, still catching her breath “Thank you. Truly. I don’t know what I would’ve done—”

She starts reaching into a small pouch “Please, I have a little money—let me give you something.”

You shake your head quickly “Oh no, really. That’s okay. We had… a good day, actually. He’s a sweet kid.”

Kenji beams proudly beside her. Zoro’s still silent, standing with that usual lazy posture.

The woman glances at him, hesitating “Are you sure? Maybe he wants—”

Before she finishes, Zoro shrugs “Y/N did all of it by herself.”

You glance over at him. That’s not true, you both helped. But he says it like he wants to make clear that the kindness was yours. You give him a small smile.

The woman bows slightly “Thank you both again.”

You nod, just about to say goodbye when Kenji suddenly throws his arms around your waist again.

You blink “Kenji…?”

He’s crying again. Quiet, but real tears, as he mumbles “Do you… have to go?”

Your throat tightens “Hey, don’t cry… You’re with your mom now. You’re safe.”

“I know,” he says, sniffling “But I don’t want you to go. I love you… you’re my best friend.”

Tears fill your eyes instantly. You hug him back, squeezing gently, as you whisper “I love you too, Kenji, you’re really brave, you know?”

He looks up at his mom “Can she stay with us?”

Her eyes soften “Sweetheart… she has her own life and friends. But maybe one day you’ll meet again.”

He wipes his face with his sleeve, still clinging to you. Zoro turns away slightly, trying to act like he’s not watching, but his ears are red and in his chest, something warm builds, quiet and slow.

You’re so gentle. So natural with children. And for the first time… He lets the thought sit. Maybe a future like that, with you, soft like this… wouldn’t be so bad.

Eventually, you say goodbye. Kenji waves and waves until he’s out of sight. You and Zoro walk in silence for a few minutes. Then… you feel something. Zoro reaches over and takes your hand.

You blink, surprised “Zoro?”

He doesn’t look at you, eyes straight ahead, face a little pink “Don’t make a big deal out of it. Just… thought you might need it.”

You smile, squeezing his hand gently. A few more steps go by before he adds, quietly “You’d be good at it.”

“At what?” you ask.

He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly “…Being a mom.”

Your heart skips as he glances at you out of the corner of his eye “Not saying right now. Just… someday. If you wanted that.”

You stop for a second, staring at him. He’s not blushing anymore. He’s serious.

You nod, eyes soft “With you… yeah. I think I’d want that someday.”

Zoro looks away quickly, but you see the tiniest smile on his face.

You let go of his hand and he turns to look at you surprised. But then you jump and put your arms around his neck as he grabs you by your waist to steady you.

You kiss him quickly but softly while saying “I love you so much Zoro, thank you.”

He’s still surprised but asks “What are you thanking me for?”

“To think of me when you think about your future.”

He blushes and starts to look away but you catches him saying “Of course I would.”

You smile as you let go of him and then take his hand again as you swing it and walk as you’re the happiest girl in the world, with your biggest smile one and humming a little cute song.

Zoro watches you all the time with the softest smile he ever had.

── .✦ Sanji:

The sun sets behind the island’s hills, painting the sky in soft orange and purple. You can already hear music and laughter in the air. The village is buzzing with excitement.

“We’re just in time for the Moonlight Festival” Nami tells everyone, smiling as a few locals greet her.

“They want us to join?” Luffy asks, his eyes already searching for food.

“Yes,” Robin says “They’ve prepared clothes for us. It’s part of their tradition.”

You glance around. The people here are wearing bright outfits, flowing skirts, golden sashes, beads, and flowers in their hair. It looks magical.

One of the village girls walks up to you, holding a folded dress.

“For you,” she says with a kind smile “You’ll look beautiful in it.”

Sanji’s eyes narrow, already hovering at your side “She always does” he says softly, brushing a hand across your lower back.

You smile and take the dress inside a small tent to change.

When you step out, the crew is waiting. Zoro looks away with a bored expression. Usopp whistles.

But Sanji… he freezes. His face turns red in two seconds. Then an elegant nosebleed.

“Oh my god, Sanji!” you rush to him as he stumbles back, heart-shaped eyes glowing like lanterns.

“You… You can’t just walk out looking like that, mon amour,” he gasps “I was not prepared. That dress—you… your everything—!”

You laugh “You’re so dramatic.”

“I am in love,” he moans, holding a hand over his nose “And now I’m dying.”

“Save it for later, lovebirds,” Nami rolls her eyes “Let’s go! The festival’s starting!”

The streets are glowing with lanterns. Drums beat in the background. Kids are running around with flower crowns. You hold Sanji’s hand tight as you pull him through the crowd.

“Wait, wait—look!” you gasp, pointing to a stall “Caramel apples!”

Sanji chuckles “Mon amour, you know I can make you better ones. Twice as sweet. Three times as shiny.”

“Yeah, but these are festival apples,” you grin, bouncing on your heels “It’s different!”

He groans playfully but fishes some coins from his pocket “Fine. Who am I to stop you from being adorable?”

You grab the apple and take a big bite “Mmm! Okay. Yours are still better.”

He smirks “Told you.”

You two stroll past more stalls. Roasted nuts, cotton candy, fruit juice in bamboo cups… you try everything. Sanji keeps spoiling you without complaint, even if he keeps saying, “You know I could cook all of this for you, mon trésor.”

You wipe a bit of syrup off his cheek with your thumb “Yeah, but this is more fun.”

You turn a corner and freeze “Sanji!” you gasp.

“Hm?”

“There!” You point to a game stall. Behind it is a giant plushie… a round, smiling bear with soft ears and a flower crown.

Sanji squints “You want that thing?”

“Yes! It’s so cute!”

But before you can step forward, a group of small kids run up.

“We saw it first!” one of them shouts.

“No way! I’m gonna win it!” another boy says, grabbing a ball from the counter.

You look at Sanji. He cracks his knuckles and smiles “A competition, huh?”

“Winner takes the bear!” the tallest kid says.

Sanji kneels to their level, grinning “Alright, little ones. You’re on.”

Sanji throws the first ball... Miss.

“Damn it—”

The ball bounces off the edge of the target, knocking over nothing but his pride.

“Too slow, old man!” the little boy cackles and throws his own. Miss.

Sanji raises an eyebrow “Oh-ho? You think you’re better?”

“I am better!” the kid huffs, grabbing another ball. Miss again.

Sanji leans in “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Your aim is trash.”

“So is yours.”

They go back and forth for the next minute. Ball after ball. Miss after miss. Neither hits a single target. Sanji’s hair is messier now, and the kid’s cheeks are puffed in frustration.

You cross your arms and bite your lip to stop laughing. Finally, Sanji steps back, hands on his hips.

“This game is clearly rigged.”

The kid points at him “You’re just mad because you lost.”

“You lost too!” Sanji snaps back, eyes wide.

“Only ‘cause you distracted me with your loud yelling!”

They both look exhausted and full of mutual respect…and mutual failure.

You walk up between them and say, “Okay. My turn.”

Sanji blinks “Mon amour, are you sure? It’s harder than it looks—”

“I wanna try.” you say, handing him the caramel apple you’re still holding.

You pick up the ball. It’s heavier than you thought, but manageable. You narrow your eyes, pull back your arm and… You knock over all three cans. Clean.

Sanji’s jaw drops. The little boy gasps so loudly, you think he might pass out.

The game keeper just laughs and hands you the giant plushie “Well done, miss!”

You grin and hug the bear tight “I did it!”

Sanji laughs, not caring at all about being shown up “You’re amazing!” he says proudly “Absolutely perfect.”

He kisses your cheek with zero shame “My talented goddess.”

But the kid… the kid is just staring at you now. Like something huge just clicked in his little brain.

“…What?” you ask, smiling at him “You can still try again, maybe there’s another plush—”

“I love you.”

You blink “Huh?”

“I don’t know why,” he says, completely serious “But I do.”

You stand there with your plushie, speechless. Sanji snorts so hard he has to turn around to hide his laugh.

“Is it the bear?” you ask gently.

The boy shakes his head “It’s your face. And your power.”

Sanji is wheezing now “That’s a strong statement, mon petit rival.”

“I said what I said,” the kid replies firmly, hands in his pockets “If you break up with him, I’ll wait for you.”

You pat his head “Thanks, but… I don’t think that’ll happen.”

He sighs “Fine. But just know… you’re my first love now.”

Sanji finally turns around, wiping tears from his eyes “I’ve been defeated. By a child.”

You both laugh, holding hands again. You keep walking through the festival lights, one giant plush bear in your arms, and the chef at your side.

The night deepens, and the music slows down.

Soft lanterns float above the square, swaying gently in the warm breeze. They’re glowing in different colors as orange, pink, soft blue, like slow-moving stars. Couples begin dancing in the middle of the cobblestone plaza.

Sanji gently tugs your hand “Dance with me, mon amour?”

You grin and nod “Only if you don’t step on my feet.”

“I would rather die.”

He places one hand on your waist, the other holding yours with a practiced ease. His touch is warm and careful, like he’s afraid to break you. You sway together under the lanterns, the sounds of violins and laughter floating around you.

“You look beautiful in this light.” he says quietly.

You look up at him, smiling “You always say that.”

“Because it’s always true.”

You lean into him, resting your head against his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat. This moment is soft. Sweet. Just the two of you… until…

“HEY, Y/N!”

Your head jerks up. You turn. A small voice echoes through the crowd.

Sanji’s brows twitch “No.”

Walking through the legs of villagers, holding something behind his back, is that kid.

Your jaw drops “How do you know my name?”

He stops right in front of you, puffing his chest like a tiny warrior “The idiot said it like five times while we were throwing balls. ‘You’ve got this, Y/N! Knock ‘em down, Y/N!’”

You blink “Oh… yeah. That sounds like him.”

Sanji coughs “You remembered that?”

The kid pulls out what he was hiding behind his back, a delicate, glowing flower. Its petals shimmer like they’ve been dusted with stardust.

“This is for you,” the boy says, holding it out with both hands like an offering “You deserve something this pretty.”

Your heart does a little owh at the sweetness “Aww… thank you.”

You take it gently, not wanting to crush it.

Sanji, meanwhile, stares at the flower. Then at the kid. Then at you.

He chuckles lightly “How… thoughtful.”

You glance at him “You okay?”

“Oh, me? Perfectly fine,” he says with a smile that’s way too tight “Just enjoying the sight of my girlfriend being courted by an eight-year-old.”

The kid looks up at him “Nine.”

“Ah, of course. My mistake,” Sanji says, voice calm but eyes twitching “A mature gentleman.”

“Way cooler than you.” the boy mumbles.

Sanji crouches down slightly, still smiling “You want a kitchen knife to go with that flower, mon petit rival?”

You step between them, laughing “Okay, okay, enough. This is getting weird.”

The kid sighs and shrugs “I’ll just wait till you���re single. No rush.”

“There will be no waiting.” Sanji grits through his teeth.

“Time is on my side, old man.”

“SHE’S MY AGE TOO!” Sanji yells irritated.

You nearly drop the flower from laughing so hard. You pat the boy on the head again “You’re really sweet, but I’m staying with the idiot for now.”

“Forever,” Sanji corrects “She’s staying with me forever.”

“Yeah, yeah. For now…” the boy says, walking away into the lantern lights.

You turn to Sanji, still giggling “You were jealous.”

He raises a hand, dramatic as ever “I can’t believe he kept insulting me. I was not jealous. I was threatened.”

You raise an eyebrow.

He sighs “Okay. I was… mildly unsettled.”

You lean up and kiss his cheek “You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

He smirks again “And you’re always cute. But please… no more nine-year-old rivals.”

The music quiets. The stalls are closing. Lanterns start floating into the sky, some by string, some released into the wind with wishes written on paper. The villagers begin gathering near the beach and hilltops.

You stretch your arms with a happy sigh, the big plushie still tucked under one arm “It’s almost time for fireworks, right?”

Sanji nods and gently takes your hand “Follow me, mon love. I found us a better spot. Private. High up. Just us.”

“Romantic?”

He grins “Always.”

He leads you up a narrow path behind the main square, through a line of trees. A few lanterns hang along the way, giving the path a warm glow. Eventually, you reach a small wooden platform, almost like an old lookout. There’s a railing, a perfect view of the sky, and just enough space for the two of you to stand side by side.

You lean against the railing, wide-eyed “This is perfect…”

Sanji steps behind you, resting his chin lightly on your shoulder “I know. Just like you.”

You snort “Cheesy.”

He kisses your temple “True.”

Just as the wind picks up slightly and you snuggle closer into his arms…“Hey!”

You both turn your heads.

It’s the kid. Again.

Sanji groans, stepping forward “Are you following us now?”

The boy crosses his arms “I think destiny wants me and Y/N together.”

Sanji points at him “She’s literally standing here with me, holding the bear I helped her win—”

“I pushed you to give up and her winning it, so technically I helped too.”

“You called me ‘trash’ and insulted me!”

“And yet… here we are.” He spreads his arms as if the universe just proved his point.

You lean on the railing, grinning like an idiot while they go at it again “I feel like I should get popcorn for this.”

The kid puffs up his chest “You’ll thank me when we’re married one day.”

“I am going to faint.” Sanji rubs his face.

You laugh softly, eyes crinkling with joy. The two of them are so dramatic in their own ways… Sanji with his poetic French curses, and the kid with his over-the-top confidence.

But then the sky explodes into light.

You gasp and rush toward the railing, hands gripping the wood. Fireworks bloom above the hills, one after another, bursts of gold, red, green, and silver painting the night. Some twinkle, some crackle, some swirl in spiral shapes like dancing stars.

“Whoa…” you whisper, completely forgetting the chaos behind you.

Then, beside you, another small gasp. You glance down. It’s the kid.

His eyes are wide. His mouth slightly open in wonder “They’re… huge.”

“Is this your first time seeing fireworks?” you ask.

He nods slowly “Yeah. They’re… kinda magical.”

You smile, your face glowing with the same light reflecting in the sky “Right?”

Behind you, Sanji watches the two of you from a few steps back.

You’re both standing at the railing, heads tilted up, eyes full of wonder, soft smiles on your faces. The flower the kid gave you is tucked in your hair. The bear still in your arms. And somehow, in that one moment, you and the kid… look similar.

Same joy. Same spark. Same heart.

Sanji feels something shift in his chest. Not jealousy. Not annoyance. Something deeper. Warmer.

He pictures this moment again, but years in the future. You, at the railing, holding a small hand. Your child’s hand.

Their eyes lighting up like yours. That same smile. That same awe. And he’s there too, arms around both of you. His future, clear as the fireworks above.

You turn around and catch his gaze “Sanji?”

He blinks and smiles softly “Sorry. Just… thinking about how lucky I am.”

You raise an eyebrow “Because we won the bear?”

“No,” he says, stepping forward to join you at the railing “Because I get to watch you fall in love with everything.”

You rest your head on his shoulder again, your free hand finding his.

“With me?” The kid says.

“NO! DROP IT!” Sanji yells at him but then they both smile and keep watching the fireworks as they keep blooming. And Sanji is already planning forever.

The last firework bursts in a shower of silver and gold, lingering like a sparkler in the night sky. Then silence.

Soft cheers rise from the village below. The glow fades, lanterns flickering low. The magic of the moment hangs in the air for just a little longer, like it doesn’t want to end.

You sigh, still holding Sanji’s hand “That was perfect…”

Next to you, the kid is still staring at the sky. But the fireworks are gone now, long finished. Yet he doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. His eyes are wide, his mouth just barely open. He looks like he’s still inside that wonder.

You smile at him “Hey… by the way… What’s your name?”

He blinks, like he’s waking up from a dream “Oh. It’s Tama.”

“Nice to meet you, Tama.” You kneel down a bit so you’re closer to his height “What do you wanna be when you grow up?”

Without hesitation “A pirate.”

You laugh softly “Really?”

He nods, proud “A brave one. With a big ship. I’ll visit all the islands with weird animals and floating rocks and treasure.”

Sanji smirks beside you, hands in his pockets “Then I guess we’ll keep being rivals even out at sea, huh?”

Tama gives him a sharp side-eye “I’ll have to steal y/n from you and out-pirate you.”

Sanji grins “Try me, mon petit.”

You giggle and ruffle Tama’s hair gently “Well, I hope we meet again when you’re out there chasing dreams.”

Tama glances up at you “What about you? What do you want to be?”

You pause. It’s not something you really think about. You look over at Sanji… messy blond hair, gentle smile, the way he’s still looking at you like the stars are in your eyes instead of the sky.

You shrug “I don’t care what I become. I just want to be with Sanji forever.”

Sanji freezes for a moment.

Then, he lets out a quiet breath, like someone just handed him the whole world.

His voice is soft “You’ll never have to wish for that, mon amour. I’m not going anywhere.”

Tama watches you both. He’s quiet. No more smug grins or snappy lines.

Then, slowly, he nods. He tucks his hands into his pockets and gives you a small smile, real and warm “Then it’s good the idiot is so persistent.”

Sanji raises an eyebrow “Hey—”

Tama doesn’t look at him. He’s looking at you “You’re really happy. I can tell.” His voice is calm now, like something inside him understands something bigger “So… I’m okay with it.”

Your heart softens “Thank you, Tama.”

Then, without fully thinking, you smile even wider and say, “Sanji, I hope our future baby is going to be like him.”

Tama blinks, clearly unsure what to say to that. Maybe even a little embarrassed. But he nods slowly, lips pressing together in a shy smile.

Sanji stops breathing.

He stares at you, completely still, as if the fireworks just restarted behind his eyes. That sentence… so casual, so soft… hit harder than anything tonight. Our future baby...

You’re thinking about it. About a future. About family. And not just that. You’re thinking about it with him. His heart squeezes in his chest.

You’re here, in his arms. You’re in love. And you’re imagining a child with his smile and your eyes, running around somewhere under the same stars.

You turn and see the look in Sanji’s eyes.

He’s smiling, but there’s something deeper behind it. Something full. Something that says, I heard that.

You just smile back, knowing he doesn’t need to say a word.

Tama shrugs and turns around “Don’t get too comfy though. I’ll be cooler than him someday.”

Sanji puts an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close “We’ll be cheering for you… maybe.”

Tama waves over his shoulder, heading back toward the village, lantern light flickering around him.

You and Sanji stay a little longer at the lookout, arms wrapped around each other, the flower still in your hair, and the last warmth of the fireworks still in your hearts.

The festival is over. But something even better stayed behind with you…

Love. Peace. And the promise of forever.

── .✦ Law:

The sea is calm. The deck is quiet. You wipe your hands with a towel and step out of the infirmary for some air. A peaceful day. For once.

“GUYS! GUYS!! I’m back!!”

Bepo’s voice booms from the ramp. You glance over, blinking. Law appears from the hallway behind you, arms crossed and already frowning. Penguin and Shachi pop their heads out of the engine room.

“Why are you yelling?” Law asks, sharp.

“I got everything!” Bepo shouts, jogging up “But also—uh—”

He’s carrying something. No. Someone. It’s a kid.

A little girl, maybe five years old, wrapped in one of Bepo’s spare coats. Her hair’s messy, face pale. No shoes. She looks completely terrified.

Shachi stares “That’s a child.”

“Bepo,” Law growls “You didn’t…”

“I had to!” Bepo pleads “She was hiding behind crates in the market. All alone. People walked right past her. Like she wasn’t even there!”

“So you picked her up and brought her here?!” Law’s tone spikes.

“I couldn’t leave her! I asked around, but no one knew her. No one cared! She wouldn’t talk to anyone but me!”

The girl looks around fast… strangers, loud voices, sharp tones. She panics.

Her eyes lock on you, maybe because you’re the only woman here at the moment, maybe because you’re not yelling, and suddenly she jumps out of Bepo’s arms.

“Wait—!” Bepo yells.

Too late. She runs straight to you and throws her arms around your waist, hugging you like her life depends on it.

You freeze.

“Woah—hey, hey,” you say softly, instinct kicking in. You crouch down, hands gentle on her arms “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

She buries her face in your chest and doesn’t say a word. Everyone is staring.

“Y/N,” Law says, voice low “Do you know her?”

You shake your head “Never seen her before.”

“Then why is she hugging you like that?” Penguin asks, confused.

You rub her back carefully “She’s scared. She saw someone safe. That’s all.”

Law narrows his eyes, crouching beside you.

“Kid,” he says quietly, “what’s your name?”

“…Mimi.” she whispers.

“How old are you, Mimi?”

She holds up five fingers without looking up.

“Do you know where your parents are?”

She shakes her head.

“Do you remember anything?”

She shrugs.

Law stands up “Fantastic.”

“I don’t get it,” Shachi says “Why would she run to Y/N? Just randomly?”

“She doesn’t know me,” you say, still holding Mimi gently “She was just scared.”

“She’s still shaking,” Bepo murmurs “I think she really was in danger.”

Law opens his mouth to reply, but footsteps thunder up from below deck.

“Ikkaku!” Penguin says as she appears, out of breath.

“Captain!” she gasps, holding up a tablet “Emergency Marine alert. I just picked it up from the city’s comms.”

“What kind of alert?” Law asks, tone serious.

She flips the screen around “They’re searching for a missing child. Classified level. No name. No photo. Just this—”

She swipes again. A blurry snail-cam image. It’s Mimi. Wearing that same coat.

“…Shit.” Law mutters.

Everyone stares at the screen.

“Why are the Marines looking for a five-year-old?” Shachi asks, stunned.

“Classified level? That’s not normal” Penguin adds.

Ikkaku reads off the report “Orders are to retrieve the child alive. No reason listed. But every local base is on alert. They think pirates might have taken her.”

Mimi stiffens. She presses closer to you.

“…Bad men,” she whispers “Mama said they’d come…”

“Mimi,” you say softly, “do you know who the bad men are?”

She shakes her head quickly “The marines… that I had to run. Mama said… find someone kind. Someone who felt safe.”

She looks up at you then. Big, frightened eyes.

You smile gently “You found me, don’t worry.”

Law steps beside you, staring down at the kid. His hand brushes yours.

“Y/N,” he says quietly, “She can’t stay on deck.”

You nod.

“She stays below, for now” Law says, turning to the crew “And no one talks about her. Not a word. We figure this out before the Marines come knocking.”

Bepo lets out a breath “Thank you, Captain.”

Law glances back at you and Mimi “Don’t thank me yet. This is trouble.”

“She’s just a kid,” you murmur, carrying her gently as you stand “We’ll protect her.”

Law’s voice softens “Yeah. We will.”

The door closes behind you both with a quiet click. The hallway outside Law’s quarters is silent now. You and Law stand inside the dimly lit room, away from the crew, away from Mimi.

He leans against the desk, arms folded, hat on the surface next to him. His jaw is tight. You’re pacing.

“She’s five, Law,” you say “Five. And terrified. You saw her face.”

“I know what I saw,” he replies, coldly calm “But she’s not just any kid, Y/N. She’s being hunted by the Marines. That’s not normal.”

“She didn’t ask to be hunted,” you shoot back “She didn’t choose any of this!”

“You think I don’t know that?” His voice rises slightly.

You stop pacing “Then why are you looking at her like she’s a problem?”

He straightens “Because right now? She is. She’s a risk. For all of us.”

You flinch.

“Oh, great,” you say, sarcasm slipping in “Glad to know your heart’s still functioning.”

His eyes narrow “Don’t twist my words.”

“I’m not twisting anything! You’re acting like she’s a ticking time bomb!”

“I’m being realistic!” he snaps “You always do this—take in strays without thinking!”

You freeze. The words echo. You always do this.

Your chest tightens “Then is that what I am to you?” you whisper “Some stray you took in?”

Law’s expression shifts instantly “What? No—”

You shake your head, stepping back, voice low and bitter “Forget it. I’m done.”

He moves toward you “Y/N, wait—”

“No,” you say, turning for the door “You wanted to be realistic? Fine. Be alone with your logic. I’m going to be with the actual human being we rescued.”

You slam the door on your way out.

You sit cross-legged on the floor of the small guest room, paper and colored pencils spread out between you and Mimi. She holds a red pencil in her small hand, tongue poking out a little as she focuses hard on drawing something.

You force yourself to smile “That’s a very good cat, Mimi.”

“It’s you” she says, showing you proudly.

You laugh gently “Oh! I’m the cat?”

She nods “You were soft when I hugged you.”

You pause “That’s… really sweet, actually.”

She looks up at you “Are you mad?”

Your smile fades “Why would you think that?”

“You left fast. Like Mama did… when she was mad.”

Ouch.

You set your pencil down and reach out, tucking her hair behind her ear “I’m not mad at you, I promise.”

“Then who?”

You sigh “Just… someone I love. We said some things we didn’t mean.”

She nods like she gets it “Mama and Papa did that too. Then they’d be quiet for a while. But after, they hugged a lot.”

You smile faintly “Maybe we’ll get there.”

Mimi turns back to her paper “Do you think my Mama’s okay?”

Your heart aches “I hope so, Mimi. I really do.”

You pick up a blue pencil and draw beside her in silence for a while. The sound of coloring fills the small room. For a little while, it’s peaceful again.

Even if your chest still burns with anger and something else you don’t want to admit yet. Not hurt. Just… disappointed.

The hallway outside the guest room is quiet now.

Right now, it’s just you and Mimi, surrounded by colored pencils and messy drawings. She laughs when your stick figure ends up with five arms. You giggle along, your mood slowly softening.

“Look!” she says proudly, holding up her latest masterpiece. It’s her, you, and what might be Bepo if you squint. You’ve all got huge smiles and stars around your heads.

“That’s amazing,” you say, genuinely impressed “Did you make me taller than Bepo?”

She nods “Because you’re strong.”

Your heart actually hurts a little at that “You’re the strong one, Mimi.”

She looks up at you, eyes wide and happy. It’s the first time she’s looked this light since she came aboard. Something warm blooms in your chest. You don’t say it aloud, but this feels… right.

She deserves moments like this. You both do.

There’s a soft knock at the doorframe. You turn and Law stands there. He doesn’t say anything right away. Just… watches.

You see his eyes flick to Mimi, then back to you. The scene freezes him. Like he’s seeing something he wasn’t ready for. Like he’s seeing you with a child in your lap, laughing, gentle, bright. Like family.

You look away first. Mimi doesn’t notice. She’s too busy coloring in the sky purple.

Law jerks his head toward the hallway, silently asking for a word. You hesitate.

Then slowly stand up, brushing your hands off “I’ll be right back, okay?” you whisper to Mimi.

“Okay.” she says without looking up.

You follow Law out into the hall. The door closes behind you, soft and careful. He runs a hand through his hair. He looks… tired. And guilty.

“I deserved everything you said earlier” he starts.

You don’t speak yet.

“I was angry. Not at you. At the situation. At how helpless it made me feel. It reminds me a lot of when… nevermind.”

Still, you wait.

“I wanted to do something. So I called in favors. Checked restricted comms. Dug deep.”

You lift your eyes to meet his “And?”

“I found out who her mother was,” he says “They were living on the outskirts of a Marine-controlled zone. Poor. Invisible. Perfect targets.”

Your throat tightens.

“She died,” Law continues “A week ago. Protecting Mimi. Marines were already closing in. Her mother fought back alone. Got her daughter away. Then…”

He trails off.

You stare “…Mimi saw that happen?”

He nods “But I think she doesn’t remember it. Or won’t. Trauma like that… it can block memories completely. Especially in kids.”

Your back presses to the wall “She… thinks her mom is still out there.”

“I know,” he says quietly “I was hoping she was. I wanted to go find her. Bring her here. Give Mimi the ending she deserved.”

You press your hands to your face “God…”

Law steps closer “I didn’t want to tell you until I was sure.”

You lower your hands slowly, voice shaking “You thought I’d fall apart?”

“No,” he says “I thought I would.”

That makes you look at him.

“I saw you with her just now,” he says “And I thought… maybe we could give her something close to a family. Not perfect. Not planned. But something.”

Silence hangs heavy for a second.

“I’m sorry,” he says again “For the fight. For what I said.”

You nod slowly “I was mad. But I never stopped trusting you.”

He reaches for your hand. You let him take it.

“She’s all alone now” you whisper.

“Not if we stay” he says.

You squeeze his fingers “I’m not going anywhere.”

It’s been three months since Mimi came aboard. She doesn’t cry at night anymore. She doesn’t flinch when someone raises their voice.

She laughs. Loudly. She steals snacks with Penguin, watches Shachi build models, draws on Bepo’s fur while he naps, and sometimes, when she’s really sleepy, she crawls into your bed without saying a word and snuggles between you and Law.

You and Law never talk about it, and neither does the crew, but everyone sees the way Mimi holds your hand like it’s the most normal thing in the world. The way Law makes sure she eats, takes her medicine, wears a coat when it’s cold, even when he grumbles about it. The way her drawings now always have three people in them.

You, her, and Law.

She knows the truth now. She remembers it all… her mother, the chase, the moment she lost her, the fear. It came back slowly, in pieces, but she never fell apart.

She held on. To you. To him. And now it’s time.

You found a safe place for her, a quiet island far from Marine eyes. A good family who knew her mother once, who wants to care for Mimi like their own. A home with books, and warm food, and other children. It’s the best chance she’ll ever get.

She knows it. She understands.

But even understanding doesn’t make it easy.

On the third-to-last day, you find Mimi sitting with Bepo in the garden space at the top of the sub. She’s holding her sketchbook.

“Hey,” you say gently, sitting down beside her “Can I see what you’re drawing?”

She turns the book around. It’s you and Law again… only this time, she’s drawn herself in the middle, holding both your hands. Above you is a sun with a smiling face.

Your chest aches.

“I like when we’re together.” she says, matter-of-fact.

“I do too.”

She leans against your arm “You’re not mad, right? That I said yes to going?”

You pause “Never. Mimi, we want you to be safe. That’s what matters most.”

She goes quiet for a second “But I’ll still miss you. A lot.”

You stroke her hair softly “I’ll miss you too. Every day.”

She looks up “Do you think Captain Law will miss me?”

You smile “I know he will.”

That night, Law finds you alone in the infirmary, pretending to organize the medical supplies. He leans against the doorway, arms crossed.

“You’re avoiding me” he says.

“No I’m not” you lie instantly.

“Y/N.”

You sigh and sit down on the cot “I just… don’t know how to say goodbye.”

He walks in, quiet, and sits beside you “You don’t have to.”

You glance at him.

“We’ll find a way to see her again,” he says “Even if it’s just from a distance. I promise.”

Your eyes sting “She’s the best thing that ever happened to this ship.”

He nods “She’s one of the best things that ever happened to me.”

You look at him, surprised.

“I didn’t think I could… do this,” he says “Feel like this. But she made me believe in something again. She made me remember if Corazon and even understand him more now.”

You reach out and take his hand “She made us a family, didn’t she?”

Law squeezes your hand gently.

“And we’ll let her go,” he says “Because that’s what family does. We protect them. Even when it hurts.”

The crew stands in a quiet line on the deck.

Bepo is the first to kneel down, huge paws gentle as he hugs Mimi tightly.

“Don’t forget me” he says, voice shaking.

“I could never.” she whispers, burying her face in his fur.

Penguin gives her a pack of candy and awkwardly pats her head “Eat this when you miss us, okay?”

Shachi kneels next “We’ll miss you, shrimp. Stay awesome.”

Ikkaku lifts Mimi’s little hand and presses a friendship bracelet into her palm “For luck” she says, smiling even though her eyes are red.

Everyone says their goodbyes. Everyone hugs her.

You stand back, next to Law, holding your breath. Watching. Trying to stay calm. But your chest feels tight. Your hands shake and Law, quiet and steady beside you, notices. He doesn’t say anything. He just reaches out and takes your hand in his. Warm, grounding. Solid.

You glance down, surprised. He never does this in front of the crew. Your fingers curl around his slowly. It helps. You’re grateful.

Mimi turns at last and walks up to you both. Her steps are slower now. Her smile is gone. And when she reaches you, she breaks.

Her small arms wrap around your waist so hard it knocks the air out of you “I don’t wanna go.” she sobs.

You drop to your knees and hold her, tears falling fast “I know, baby. I know.”

“I wanna stay with you. And Law. And Bepo and everyone. I don’t want a new house.”

“I know. But this is the safest place. It’s what your mama wanted. And we’ll still love you. Always.”

She shakes her head, crying harder. You don’t want to let go. You really, really don’t. And Law… he just stands there, quiet, one hand resting gently on your back as you cry into Mimi’s hair.

He doesn’t say anything, but you know he’s there. Holding you up in the way he always does.

When you finally pull away, your eyes meet his and he gives you the smallest nod. You nod back.

It’s time. Mimi turns to him slowly.

She throws her arms around his legs without a word. Law stiffens.

Then, very awkwardly, he kneels and hugs her back. His movements are a little stiff, unsure, but he doesn’t let go too quickly.

“I’m gonna miss you, Captain Law” she mumbles.

“…I’ll miss you too.” he says, voice low.

You blink. You’ve never heard him say that out loud.

When she lets go, her eyes are red and puffy, but she wipes them on her sleeve like a little soldier. Then she walks with the woman who came to get her, toward the small transport boat.

But just before she steps down the ramp, she stops, turns around, wipes her face and yells, loud as ever “HEY!”

Everyone jumps.

“If you ever give me a little brother or sister,” she says proudly, “I better get to meet them! I’ll be the best big sister in the world!”

Dead silence. Your jaw drops. Law’s eyes widen just slightly.

The crew turns to look at you both and absolutely loses it.

Penguin snorts. Shachi wheezes. Ikkaku starts clapping. Even Bepo chuckles behind a paw.

You and Law look in opposite directions at the same time, completely red-faced, avoiding each other’s eyes like it’s life or death.

“I… what…” you stammer.

“I didn’t…” Law mutters.

Mimi waves from the ramp, beaming “BYEEEE!”

And with that… she’s gone. Leaving behind stunned silence, a warm sea breeze and a very awkward question neither of you has ever asked before.

The door to Law’s studio closes behind you with a soft click. The sound of laughter still echoes faintly down the hall as the crew keeps joking about Mimi’s parting gift.

You and Law don’t say a word.

You wave a hand dismissively toward the corridor like go away, and Law rubs his forehead in quiet frustration as you both walk deeper into the room.

You drop onto the old sofa with a dramatic sigh. Your legs flop over the side “That kid really knows how to drop a bomb” you mumble into a pillow.

Law says nothing. He just walks toward his desk and sits down heavily, glancing at a stack of papers that definitely aren’t important right now.

“…So…” he says.

You raise an eyebrow, still hiding in the couch.

He clears his throat “Have you ever… uh. Thought about… you know.”

You peek at him “About what.”

He doesn’t look at you “A kid. Of your own.”

You squint “Why are you talking like that? You sound like Bepo when he ate spoiled mochi.”

He shoots you a look and you laugh, then immediately groan and hide your face in your hands.

“Oh god, I can’t believe we’re actually talking about this.”

“You didn’t answer” he says.

You peek through your fingers at him “Did you think about it before?”

He shrugs one shoulder “No. Not seriously.”

He stands up and walks over. He kneels in front of you and gently pulls your hands away from your face, exposing your cheeks and all the heat blooming in them.

His voice is soft “But now… I don’t hate the idea.”

Your heart skips. Your mouth opens and for once, no teasing comes out. Just a quiet little truth.

“…Same,” you say “If it’s with you.”

His ears go red. He clears his throat again, standing up abruptly like you just slapped him with a compliment.

“Don’t say stuff like that so easily” he mutters.

You laugh, covering your own red cheeks again “You started it!”

He turns back to his desk, muttering something under his breath.

You’re not sure what he’s thinking. But his shoulders relax a little while his hand lingers on the edge of his chair, like maybe he’s imagining what another little voice in this room might sound like someday.

── .✦ Shanks:

The sun is warm on your shoulders. The smell of grilled fish, sea salt, and cheap beer fills the open-air restaurant. You’re sitting beside Shanks, your legs draped over his lap, one arm around his broad shoulders. He’s laughing loud, one hand resting on your thigh, a bottle in the other.

The Red-Haired Pirates are noisy,talking with full mouths, yelling jokes across the table, getting into friendly fights over who gets the last crab claw.

You’re smiling, head leaning against Shanks’ shoulder, completely relaxed. Then you notice a woman, maybe in her twenties, carrying a small kid, probably two or three years old, on her hip. She’s standing near the entrance, eyes scanning the place fast, like she’s searching for someone. Her brows are drawn tight, lips pressed together.

“Shanks…” you murmur, nudging him with your elbow.

He follows your gaze.

She spots you. Her eyes go wide with something like hope. She walks fast toward your table, clutching the child tighter, muttering “excuse me” as she passes the crew. The little one, a girl, blinks up at everyone with big sleepy eyes. She stops right in front of you.

“Hi,” she says, out of breath “I—Sorry to bother you. I know who you are. You’re Shanks’ crew, right?”

You blink “Uh, yeah. That’s us.”

The woman shifts her weight, bouncing the kid gently “I know this is weird. Really weird. But I—I need help.”

Shanks straightens a little beside you. His arm slides behind your back but he stays quiet, letting you speak first.

“What kind of help?” you ask slowly, looking from the kid to her.

“My babysitter canceled last minute. I’m already late for work—I’ll lose my job if I don’t show up. It’s only for a few hours. Please,” she pleads “I don’t know anyone on this island, and you… well, I’ve seen you in the papers. You’re not bad people.”

You open your mouth to answer, then close it.

The little girl is chewing on her own shirt, blinking at you with big brown eyes. Her cheeks are flushed. Her hair’s tied up in a tiny puff.

You glance at Shanks. He’s watching you with that gentle smile of his. His eyes are soft. He doesn’t say anything, he just squeezes your hip lightly, like he’s telling you, Your choice.

“I don’t know anything about kids.” you say, voice low, nervous.

“You’ll be fine,” the woman says quickly “She’s easy. Doesn’t cry much. Her name’s Emi.”

The little girl makes a tiny sound, like she’s trying to say something but decides against it.

You look at Shanks again. He smiles wider.

“I’ll help you,” you say finally, sighing “Only for a few hours.”

“Thank you, thank you so much.” the woman breathes. She kisses the kid’s forehead and whispers something into her ear. Then she hands her over to you.

The moment Emi’s in your arms, she goes still. Warm and small. A little heavy. She smells like soap and bananas.

The woman gives you her name, a quick “I’ll be back before sunset.” and then she’s gone.

You sit there frozen. Shanks looks down at Emi in your lap. Then back up at you.

“You look terrified.” he says, chuckling.

“I am terrified.” you whisper.

“Want me to hold her?”

You shake your head slowly “No… I think I got this.”

Then Emi sneezes on your chest.

“Okay,” you groan “Maybe not.”

Shanks is already laughing.

At first, Emi just… sits there. On your lap. Quiet, blinking, nose still a little runny. She doesn’t cry. Doesn’t move much either. Just holds a tiny stuffed rabbit in one hand and sucks her thumb with the other.

You’re stiff as a mast. Shanks drapes his arm around your shoulders, whispering in your ear, “You’re holding her like she’s a bomb.”

“I’ve held swords with more confidence...” you mutter back.

He laughs, soft and deep, and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear “Try putting her on the bench next to you. Let her get used to everyone.”

You do. Emi shifts to sit beside you, rabbit clutched to her chest. She peeks around the table. The crew watches her like she’s a sea monster that just learned to smile.

“Hi, Emi!” Lucky Roux waves with a toothy grin “Wanna try some pineapple?”

She buries her face in your side.

Yasopp chuckles “You sure she’s not scared of you, Y/N?”

“She should be.” you say dryly.

But over time, it changes. Slowly. Emi starts pointing at things on the table. A shrimp. A spoon. A shiny gold coin someone dropped. You tell her the names. You offer her a piece of soft bread, and she takes it with two hands like it’s a treasure.

An hour later, you’re wiping jam off her chin with a napkin and helping her clap to Benn’s bad humming of a lullaby tune. She giggles when you make a fish face at her. You giggle back. And Shanks is quiet. He watches.

Not in a smug or teasing way. He’s not smirking. He’s not laughing with the others when Yasopp says, “Look at this! Y/N’s got the mom vibe going strong!”

He just… looks.

You glance at him and find his jaw a little tight. His drink untouched. His gaze heavy on you and the child. Like he’s thinking hard about something he doesn’t want to say out loud.

“Captain?” you ask softly.

He blinks, like he’s been pulled out of somewhere far away “Yeah?”

“You okay?”

He nods. Too fast.

Roux leans over with a grin “Hey, Shanks. You gonna put a ring on it if she starts popping out mini Shank’s?”

Everyone laughs.

You feel your face heat up, heart thudding a little “Oh my God—can you all shut up?”

“I want to marry her.” Shanks says suddenly.

Silence. Everyone stares.

You slowly turn to him “What?”

He meets your eyes. His voice is even, but his expression is… different. Calm on the surface, but his eyes are darker than usual “If she wanted that too. Yeah.”

You feel Emi rest her head on your arm, yawning, rabbit smushed between her face and your side.

You’re not sure what to say. The crew fumbles between teasing and trying not to look too shocked.

Shanks finally looks away, picking up his drink again.

Benn watches him for a long second. Then quietly says, “Alright, alright. Let’s not scare the kid, huh?”

And just like that, the noise starts up again. Jokes. Laughter. Loud plates. Big bites.

But Shanks doesn’t joke anymore, and you don’t miss the way he keeps looking at you like there’s something he’s not saying. Something that makes your heart beat a little faster.

Then everything fall falls apart when Emi gets bored.

One minute she’s snuggled against you, soft and sleepy, her rabbit tucked under her chin. The next she’s on her feet, running full speed down the middle of the open-air tavern, arms flapping like wings.

“EMI!” you shout, scrambling to follow her.

Your drink spills. A spoon clatters to the ground. Shanks laughs under his breath and gets up with you, already moving.

She darts under a table where two drunk fishermen are playing cards, crawls past their feet like some kind of tiny demon, and pops up between a tray of grilled squid and a candle.

“I got her!” Yasopp calls out, lunging, but Emi ducks and keeps running, laughing wildly now, barefoot and fast.

“She’s gone feral!” Lucky Roux howls.

“Shanks!” you bark, spinning around helplessly “Stop laughing and HELP!”

He grins, but there’s warmth in his eyes as he moves quickly, circling the tables “Aye aye, sweetheart.”

You try one side, he takes the other.

“Emi,” he says, crouching low, voice gentle, like he’s speaking to a scared animal “Hey, baby girl. Wanna play a game? It’s called Freeze. Can you freeze?”

She stops. Looks at him. Wobbles on her feet.

You sneak up behind.

“Gotcha!” you grab her mid-spin, lifting her up like a sack of potatoes.

She laughs and squeals, legs kicking.

“She’s a slippery one.” you mutter, holding her close, out of breath.

“I like her spirit,” Shanks says, grinning as he brushes a strand of hair from your face “She reminds me of you.”

You squint at him “You’re not funny.”

The crew starts clapping. Yasopp whistles. Roux raises his mug “Now that’s a team, huh? Look at them. Mom and Dad of the year.”

“Oh, please—” you start, but Shanks just reaches for Emi’s little hand and gives it a squeeze.

“Teamwork, right?” he says softly to her.

She nods. Then sneezes again. Right into his chest.

You burst out laughing this time and say “That’s karma.”

He wipes it off with a napkin like it’s nothing.

You sit back down together, Emi now curled in your lap again, finally tired. Shanks stays close. Not just beside you but with you. Helping. Watching. Smiling softly when Emi dozes off. But he’s still quiet. More quiet than usual.

Your eyes keep drifting to him. The way he’s looking at the girl. The little frown he doesn’t even know he has. The way his hand rests on her back like he’s done it a hundred times before.

He used to be like this with Uta. And Luffy, too. Soft. Present. Gentle.

You haven’t seen that part of him in a long time. You missed it.

“You okay?” you ask under your breath, while the crew starts arguing over dessert.

He doesn’t answer right away.

Then finally, “Yeah.”

You stare at him a little longer “Are you lying to me?”

He smiles, but it’s not the usual cocky grin. It’s smaller. Tired.

“I’m not sure what I’m feeling,” he admits “Just… thinking, I guess.”

You squeeze his hand “About what?”

He shrugs, looking down at Emi “About a lot of things.”

And now you are quiet, because something in your chest shifts. Soft. Strange. Familiar.

Maybe it’s the way he looks at you, like you’ve already given him something he thought he’d never have again. Or maybe it’s the way it suddenly feels… real.

You. Him. And this small, chaotic moment that makes everything else disappear.

The sun starts to dip, painting the sky in gold and peach.

You’re still at the tavern, Emi snoring softly on your shoulder, her little fingers tangled in your hair. Shanks sits beside you, quiet. His arm rests behind you, not touching, just there.

And then she returns. The woman bursts through the crowd, her apron flying, face flushed with panic. The moment she sees you, she stops, hands over her heart like she might collapse.

“Oh my god—thank you. Thank you so much,” she breathes, almost crying as she rushes to you “I’m so sorry I took so long. I owe you my life.”

You wave a hand gently “It’s okay. Really. She was good. A little fast—like, sprint-across-the-rooftops fast—but… I had fun.”

Emi stirs and opens her eyes.

“Hi, baby.” the mother coos, arms outstretched. The little girl shifts toward her sleepily, and you pass her over with care. For a second, Emi resists, her hand still reaching for your shirt.

Your heart squeezes a little.

“Thank you again,” the woman says, eyes filled with real gratitude “If you’re ever on this island again, please come find us. I mean it.”

You smile, brushing some crumbs off your lap “Of course. Be safe.”

You watch them go, mother holding daughter close, disappearing into the market crowd. And then it’s just… quiet. Too quiet.

The crew starts packing up, joking softly, but there’s a change in the air. A stillness you don’t like. You look at Shanks.

He’s already looking at you.

Not grinning. Not teasing.

Just watching you with that faraway softness in his eyes, like you’re a slow dream he doesn’t want to wake up from. Like maybe, for a second, he saw something more than just this moment.

You reach for his hand and lace your fingers through his.

He squeezes back but doesn’t say anything.

The walk to the ship is slow. The crew’s laughing again, arguing about who drank the most, but it’s like the volume’s been turned down. You and Shanks trail behind.

Still no words. Not one.

That night, the sea’s calm. The stars are out. You’re both in your cabin, door closed, boots off.

You lie on your shared bed, watching him stand at the window, shirt half unbuttoned, red hair catching the moonlight, and you’ve had enough. You sit up.

“Alright, Red,” you say, crossing your arms “What’s going on in that dumb, beautiful head of yours?”

He looks over his shoulder, startled “What?”

“You’ve been quiet ever since Emi left. You’ve said maybe ten words total. And I know you. That means you’re thinking. Hard.”

He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck “Maybe I’m just tired.”

“Nope.” You crawl across the bed toward him, poke his side “Try again.”

He sighs “It’s… complicated.”

“So is your face, and I still look at it every day. Try me.”

That gets a small laugh out of him.

You press your forehead to his back “You don’t have to hold things in with me, Shanks. Not the serious stuff. Not the scary stuff. Especially not the stuff that makes your eyes look like that.”

He turns slowly, leaning against the window. You slide your arms around his waist and rest your head on his chest. He wraps his arms around you too, finally. Breathing in.

“Seeing you with her,” he says softly “With Emi.”

You wait.

“I kept thinking about Uta. About Luffy. About how fast it all went. How I blinked and they weren’t mine to hold anymore.”

You don’t speak. Just hold him tighter.

“And then… I saw you. Just being there. Caring for this tiny stranger like it was nothing. Laughing with her. Holding her. And something in me just… ached.”

You tilt your head up “Ached how?”

He looks down at you, eyes serious now “Like I wanted that with you. And I didn’t even know how much until I saw it.”

The words settle deep inside you.

“You’d be a good father.” you whisper.

“You’d be the best mother.” he says back instantly.

Silence again, but this time it’s full. Of possibilities. Of truths unsaid until now.

“I didn’t say anything,” Shanks adds, brushing a hand through your hair, “because I don’t want you to think I expect that from you. Or that I’m pushing it. I just… couldn’t stop seeing it.”

You lean in and kiss him slow. No rush. No pressure. Just soft and sure.

When you pull away, your voice is warm and quiet “Then keep seeing it. I don’t mind.”

You kiss him. Long, soft, deep.

The kind of kiss that says more than either of you can find the words for. His hands settle on your waist, grounding you, holding you like you might drift away if he lets go. And when you finally break apart, you stay close. Forehead to forehead. Breathing the same air.

Now it’s your turn. You exhale shakily “I always saw you with Uta. And Luffy. The way you held them, talked to them, made them laugh… the way they looked at you.”

Shanks closes his eyes, lips pressed together.

“I used to watch from the deck,” you continue softly, “and I’d think… that. I want that with him. Our own little chaos. Our own quiet moments. Our own family.”

His grip on you tightens just a little. His thumb strokes your hip, slowly.

“I never said anything,” you admit, voice quieter now “Because I thought… maybe you already had your turn. Maybe being a dad again wasn’t something you wanted. Like, maybe Uta and even Luffy were your ‘once in a lifetime’. And I didn’t want to be selfish.”

Shanks pulls back just enough to look at you fully, eyes wide, voice rough “Selfish? Y/N… You have no idea how wrong you are.”

You blink.

He cups your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek “If anything, I was scared you didn’t want that. I never wanted to put that weight on you. My name. My crew. My life.”

You both laugh a little, soft and breathless. And then he says it “I’d love to see a little you run around the ship.”

Your heart does a full spin in your chest. You both collapse back onto the bed, side by side, hands tangled together, staring at the ceiling like it holds the future in its stars.

“I think she’d be loud.” you say, smiling to yourself.

“She?” Shanks grins “You’re already picking sides?”

“I just know. She’d talk back to Benn by the time she could crawl.”

“She’d steal Yasopp’s sake and blame it on Lucky Roux.”

“She’d steal your cape and wear it like a dress.”

“She’d make the whole crew bow to her by age four.”

You laugh. He laughs too. Your fingers tighten around his.

“She’d be soft like you,” he adds suddenly, voice lower now “Kind. But dangerous.”

You glance over at him “She’d be brave like you. Wild, loyal, always smiling.”

He sighs, almost dreamily “I can already hear her little feet running on the deck.”

“And your big voice yelling ‘don’t climb the cannon!’”

You both break into giggles and then silence again, but this time, it’s wrapped in warmth, in hope.

Shanks turns his head to look at you. You’re already looking at him.

“I mean…” he says slowly, raising one eyebrow, “we could start working on that little Y/N… like… right now.”

You gasp “Shanks!”

He smirks wickedly “What? I’m just saying. We’re both here. The ship’s quiet. The moon looks nice. You’re cute. I’m cute. It’s called destiny.”

You snort “You’re impossible—ah!”

He attacks, fingers darting to your sides, tickling, making you laugh and squirm under him.

“Shanks! Stop!”

“Never!” he grins, pinning you lightly with his weight “You’re stuck now. You told me your secrets. I told you mine. That makes us legally married in pirate law.”

You laugh until your cheeks hurt. You wiggle, but he’s strong, gentle, always careful. And then you stop moving. So does he.

Your eyes meet again. Closer now. Breath mingling.

That softness returns. Like a wave pulling you under, not scary. Just deep. Full of something quiet and forever.

You reach up and brush his hair behind his ear.

He leans into your touch.

“Hey,” you whisper “I love you.”

“I know,” he murmurs, kissing the inside of your palm “And I love you more than I thought I even could.”

His mouth finds yours again, slower this time. No rush.

The kind of kiss that makes the world outside the cabin disappear and maybe, tonight is the beginning of something new.

── .✦ Ace:

The sun is warm, the breeze is salty, and Ace is doing what he always does when he’s not fighting or eating: walking too close to you with that lazy grin on his face.

“You sure you don’t wanna race?” he asks “You lose, you buy lunch.”

You raise an eyebrow “You’ll cheat with your fire.”

“Not true.” He places a hand on his chest, all dramatic “I only cheat if I’m losing.”

You snort “So always.”

He gasps “Betrayal.”

The two of you walk down the main road of a small island town. It’s quiet, peaceful, one of those places that doesn’t care much for bounties or pirate crews. People nod, wave, smile. Ace stretches, yawns, and puts his arm lazily around your shoulder.

“Maybe we should stay here a few days,” he says “Nice change from all the running.”

Before you can answer, a small voice says “Is that Fire Fist Ace?!”

You both turn. Two kids stand by a fruit stall, one boy, maybe six, and an older girl, probably nine. The boy’s eyes are wide. The girl looks like she’s not impressed yet.

Ace grins “Yeah, that’s me.”

The boy lights up “No way! My dad told me you can burn down a whole ship in one punch!”

Ace shrugs, clearly proud “Depends on the ship.”

The girl, however, is staring at you.

Her eyes narrow “You’re her, aren’t you?”

You blink “…Her?”

She steps closer, pointing at your waist “You’re the swordwoman who beat that Navy officer in Loguetown. The one who fights with two blades and never loses.”

You look down at her, surprised. She’s serious. Ace whistles.

“Wow,” he says “I didn’t know I was walking around with a legend.”

You nudge him “Shut up.”

The girl keeps going “They say you cut a cannonball in half.”

You sigh “It was already cracked.”

Still, her eyes sparkle. The boy joins in, bouncing excitedly.

“She’s so cool! Are you really pirates?!”

“Guilty,” Ace says, holding up his hands “But friendly pirates.”

“You don’t look friendly...” the girl says.

Ace grins “Good. That’s the point.”

Then the boy tugs at your sleeve “Can I see your sword?”

You crouch to his level “They’re sharp. Not safe for kids.”

He frowns “I won’t touch it. Promise!”

You glance at Ace, who’s watching you closely, smiling like he’s waiting for something. You sigh and slowly pull one of your swords just a little from the sheath, just enough to show the edge. Both kids gasp like it’s treasure.

“Can you teach us how to fight?” the girl asks suddenly.

You blink “You’re nine.”

“So? You were probably younger when you started.”

Ace chuckles “She was.”

You give him a side-eye “Stop helping.”

The little girl folds her arms “You could just show us something. Like a move. Just one.”

You sigh again but you’re smiling now “You’re very stubborn.”

She shrugs “You have to be, if you wanna be strong.”

Ace leans against a wooden post, arms crossed, amused “Sounds familiar.”

You glance at him “You’re enjoying this too much.”

“I mean… yeah.” He grins “It’s the first time someone’s asking you for autographs instead of me. I’m letting it sink in.”

The boy tugs your coat again “Please? One move?”

You finally stand, looking at the open space near the dock “Fine. But just one. Then you leave us alone and go home, got it?”

The kids cheer and run to the clearing.

Ace follows, whistling “You’re gonna start a sword school at this rate.”

You roll your shoulders, then pull your blade halfway out, just enough to flash the steel. You drop into a stance, slow and firm. The kids go quiet. Then, with a sharp breath, you move. One swift, elegant slash through the air, so fast the wind shifts. The tip of your sword stops just above the ground, and your coat flutters around you.

The boy’s mouth hangs open. The girl’s eyes are huge.

Ace whistles “Show-off.”

You sheathe the sword in one clean motion.

The girl points “That was awesome! Can you do it again?”

“No,” you say, but you’re laughing now.

The boy runs over and hugs your leg suddenly “You’re my favorite pirate now!”

You blink, surprised. You pat his head awkwardly “Uh. Thanks?”

Ace watches you, your hand gently resting on the boy’s head, your stance still grounded, strong but soft. You’re not trying to impress anyone. You just exist like this. Capable. Calm. Kind. Something shifts in his chest.

You look up at him “What?”

He shrugs “Nothing. Just… didn’t know you were this good with kids.”

“I’m not,” you say “They’re just clingy.”

The girl now grabs your wrist “Can I hold your sword?”

“No.”

“Can I touch it?”

“No.”

“Can you teach me how to fight like that?”

“No—”

Ace walks over, laughing “C’mon, sweetheart. Be nice.”

You glare at him “You help, then.”

He lifts his hands “Nope. I’m just the fire guy. You’re the star today.”

The boy turns to Ace “Do you two live together?”

You and Ace exchange a look.

He grins “Something like that.”

The girl squints “Are you married?”

You cough “No.”

“Are you gonna be?”

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out.

Ace just laughs and says, “Wanna help me convince her?”

“YES!” the kids shout in unison.

You groan and walk away “I regret everything.”

Ace follows, hands in his pockets, that lazy smile still on his face, but his eyes stay soft. He watches you gently shoo the kids away, then thank the fruit vendor with a quiet bow. And in that moment, he knows. Clear as day.

“She’s not just strong. She’s not just mine. She’d be the best damn mom the world’s ever seen.”

He doesn’t say it out loud. Not yet. But he’s thinking it. Hard.

You and Ace are sitting under a tree near the edge of the village, sharing a bag of sliced fruit.

“You think they’re gone?” you ask, biting into a juicy piece.

Ace shrugs “Maybe. Or maybe they’re forming a fan club.”

You nudge his leg with your boot “I don’t need a fan club.”

He gives you a lazy grin “No, but you deserve one.”

You roll your eyes, but your ears go a little pink.

Then, a small voice calls from down the road “WE’RE BACK!!”

You groan “No.”

Ace grins “Yes.”

The two kids come running, the boy nearly trips over his own feet and stop in front of you, proudly holding up folded paper sheets.

“Look!!” the girl says, unfolding one “We drew you!”

You blink “…You what?”

They hand you the papers. The drawings are messy, full of wild colors, but so full of heart. One is of you holding two swords, a big smile on your face. Another shows you and Ace together, tiny figures with stars around you. A third shows you with a little kid, sword in hand, standing tall.

You pause at that one. Ace leans over your shoulder to peek. His voice is softer now “Is that supposed to be your kid?”

The girl nods proudly “Yup! We made a story about you! You’re a pirate mom who protects her ship and teaches her kid how to be strong.”

You stare at the page, silent. The boy holds out a few crayons “You can draw too, if you want!”

Before you can say no, he’s already sitting down, opening another paper. The girl joins him. They look up at you, smiling.

“C’mon,” she says “We wanna make a whole crew!”

You glance at Ace. He shrugs, trying to act casual “Up to you.”

You sigh and sit down cross-legged in the grass “Alright. But I’m drawing the captain.”

“That’s YOU!” the boy says.

You raise an eyebrow “I meant me.”

They laugh.

You start sketching. Nothing fancy just simple shapes. You draw yourself with a pirate hat, a tiny sword tucked in your belt. The kids start adding characters around you: themselves, animals, someone with a frying pan who’s probably Ace.

You’re focused, smiling to yourself as you add waves and stars and a sun.

Ace just watches you from where he stands, hands in his pockets, face unreadable. There’s a heat in his chest now that has nothing to do with his powers. It burns deeper. It’s watching your hand gently guide the boy’s when he can’t get the lines straight. It’s hearing you ask, “Want me to draw your pirate flag too?” in that soft, patient voice.

It’s the way you look down at the page like you’re already imagining a future.

“This shouldn’t make me want her more,” he thinks, frustrated “But it does. She’s drawing little pirate stories with them on the grass. She’d be the kind of mom who makes the world feel safe.”

He swallows hard and looks away for a second, like it’ll calm him down... It doesn’t.

You finish your little drawing with a final scribble of wind in the sails.

“There,” you say, holding it up “Captain, crew, and treasure.”

The boy claps “It’s perfect!”

The girl leans over to look “Yours is way cooler than mine.”

“Nah,” you say, nudging her arm “You’ve got better colors.”

They beam like you just handed them gold.

Ace is still standing nearby, arms crossed, pretending to be relaxed, but his jaw is tight.

You glance up at him “You okay?”

“Me? Yeah.” His voice comes out rougher than he means it to. He clears his throat “Just… warm.”

The boy tugs at your sleeve again.

“Hey,” he says, eyes wide with curiosity “Do you have kids?”

You blink. Ace freezes.

The girl adds quickly, “You’d be a really cool mom.”

There’s a beat of silence. Just the wind and the scratching of a crayon. You sit back slowly and shake your head “No. I don’t.”

The boy frowns “Why not?”

You laugh softly “Because I’m still busy being a pirate.”

“But you could be both,” the girl says, very seriously “Like in the drawing.”

You smile at that “Maybe someday.”

Your voice is calm. Light. Like you’re just answering any question. But Ace… Ace is not calm. He watches your face as you say those words “Maybe someday” and his heart lurches. Because now it’s real. Not just a fantasy in his head. Not just a warm thought. You’ve imagined it too now.

He doesn’t say anything. He just walks over slowly and sits down behind you, arms resting over your shoulders as you lean back against his chest.

“You’d be amazing at it.” he murmurs, low so the kids can’t hear.

You glance up “At what?”

He looks down at you, eyes soft and a little wild at the edges, like something’s breaking open inside him “At being a mom. I mean it.”

You pause. Then, quietly, you ask, “You think about that?”

He nods “More than I expected to. More than I ever thought I would.”

The kids are still doodling, totally unaware. You say nothing, but your hand reaches up and rests gently over his. That’s all he needs.

The kids eventually stand up, arms full of drawings and unfinished paper pirate maps.

“We’re gonna go show these to our grandpa!” the girl says.

The boy nods “Thanks for drawing with us!”

You wave, still sitting in the grass “Stay out of trouble.”

The boy grins “Bye, pirate mom!”

You blink “I’m not—”

But they’re already gone.

Ace snorts behind you “Pirate mom, huh?”

You roll your eyes and lean back into him again “Don’t start.”

He rests his chin on your shoulder “Too late. You’ve got the role down already. You give good advice, threaten people just enough, and draw cool flags. What more could a kid want?”

You hum “A dad who doesn’t set the house on fire?”

He grins “I’d try to keep it contained.”

You laugh, light and warm “You’d accidentally roast our laundry.”

“Okay, yeah, but I’d teach them how to blow stuff up responsibly.”

You fake-think “Hmm. Dangerous. But useful.”

He smiles, but then falls quiet. You feel the shift instantly. His arms wrap tighter around your middle.

“You were really sweet with them.” he says softly.

You shrug “They were cute.”

“You were cuter.”

You snort “Gross.”

“No, seriously,” he murmurs “I was watching you and thinking… like, really thinking—”

He breaks off, then tries again “That I wanna see you like that again. With… our own.”

You smirk “You mean with a mini version of me bossing you around?”

He groans “Oh god. A tiny you would be terrifying.”

“Admit it. You’d love it.”

He doesn’t hesitate.

“I would,” he says, suddenly serious “I really would.”

You look up at him. He’s already looking down at you, eyes soft, mouth slightly parted, like he’s realizing it all over again.

You tilt your head, grinning “You’re so obvious, Ace.”

“Am not.”

“You were practically glowing while I helped that kid draw a sword.”

“I was not glowing!”

“You sighed like five times.”

“I didn’t—”

“You had your sappy ‘I’m in love’ face on.”

“I always have my sappy in love face on.”

You laugh, twisting in his arms to face him fully “True.”

He leans in, forehead pressed to yours.

“I’m serious though,” he murmurs “Someday. I’d want that. With you.”

Your voice softens “Yeah. Me too.”

You kiss him slow, sure, and just a little teasing, then pull back with a grin “But if the kid turns out chaotic like you, I’m blaming your genes.”

He laughs against your mouth “Deal. But if they’re scary with a sword by age seven, that’s all you.”

You smirk “We’ll make a terrifying little pirate together.”

“Perfect.” he says, smiling like he already sees it.

[lilianne-tarot]

PICK A CARD: Your Future Spouse’s First Impression of You? ✮⋆˙

I. II. III.

Hey there! Welcome to my first pick-a-card reading on this blog page, I hope you all enjoy it! If I make any mistakes, please bear with me. Comment down what you felt about the reading and if it resonated with you and show some love, Your support means everything to me!<3

How to Pick Your Pile: Take a deep breath, clear your mind, and look at the images below. Which one pulls you in the most? Trust your gut! Once you choose the image, The number below your chosen image is your pile. If more than one catches your eye, that just means there’s extra tea for you, go ahead and read both!

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⊹₊⟡ Pile I

Cards pulled: the world, page of cups, ace of wands, 8 of pentacles, hanged man, justice, 4 of wands, oracle cards

Okay babe, like instantly I’m getting this vibe that you are in a field like marketing, finance, or something that really involves talking and writing. your job includes practical work, being clever AF, and not being emotional at all. You are into a field which makes you fulfilled (at least finacially or in you day to day life), and let me tell you… Your future partner is SO INTO IT. Like deadass, your practicality pulls them in like a moth to a flame. And listen!! It’s not that you don’t have emotions, pfft no. In fact, you’re such a sweet romantic, devoted lil baby when you actually care 💗. But the thing is, you only show it to people who deserve it. You’re not the type of person who is trying to prove how “good” you are to everyone. Period. You’re selective, you’re not out here giving everyone your full mushy marshmallow side of you. And honestly that makes People think you’re this emotionally cold, witty, maybe even selfish or boring. Some people see you as someone who can literally manipulate them buying something they didn’t even want 😂. Your words are your Lethal weapons, best thing you have. Your presence is so soft yet Strong AF. 

Now, coming to how your person will perceive you. WELL. when they meet you, they’re gonna be like “This is the one for me. Period. End of discussion”. For some of you i feel like you’ll are not into love and relationships as much as they are by the time yall meet so when they shower you with their love and start love bombing you you’e gonna feel attacked in some way🤣 you’ll be like, “goshhh leave me alone” and they are like, “NOOO MARRYYY ME PLEASEEE” 😭😭 ISTG THIS PILE STARTED SOO CONFUSING AND TOOK SUCH A TURN LOL. 

OKAY so this is a specific message I’m getting. Some of you went through betrayal in life in terms of love and have been quite unlucky in love so yall wouldn’t believe in love or someone who would make you their priority. This is so painful istg. to them your love is a gift of the divine. You’re someone they can risk it all. So this whole thing about you, they’ll sense immediately, without you even saying it, that you’ve been hurt. They’ll feel your silent belief that love might not be “your thing” anymore. Maybe you’ve even sworn off marriage? ouch 😭.

But your person don’t wanna change your mind with their huge declarations of love. No no. They’re more like, “Okay, you think love is a waste of time? Then waste it on me ” That message LITERALLY hit me, and i think i heard it in a song but it fits here perfectly. They’re all like: I am willing. I am hearing. I am risking. I see you. They don’t just like you, they want to settle down with you. (them considering doing this even though they are mostly going to be like someone who believes in short-term flings and one-night stands, DUDEEE this is crazyyyy)  they would be ready to do the most insane thing just to be with you. they are ready to DO ANYTHING. Like they would even agree to change countries, OVERNIGHT, if you give them a chance to be with you. 

They would see you as a baby😭 not literally. I know this sounds so weird and awkward 🤡 but actually what i mean here is they would adore you like a baby. Nurture you and treat you like your heart is the most fragile thing to them.  They wanna be your shield, your literal security blanket. Someone who you would choose to rely on and trust. That’s their ultimate life goal at this point ✋🏻 They can see past the workaholic, composed outer shell straight to your soft, squishy inner child who needs healing and it’s high time to do it. And they’re like “lemme protect this one.”

But OHMYGOD this person wants to rush. Like it’s so funny. Iif yall have seen those vidoes of “hyper active gf/bf X chil gf/bf” I’ve been seeing that image since the beginning of this message. AHHHH I JUST THOUGHT OF SOMETHING. So among birds, the male bird is more gorgeous than female birds and they use their beauty to charm their female lover, I’m seeing a peacock here, like the female is just standing there🧍🏻‍♀️ and the male peacock is giving his best performance, which is just so hilarioussssss😭😭😭. So this is going to be the scene with yall as well.  They’re ready to lock it down. And You’re like “umm excuse me, I’m just now believing in love again” And yet, they’re already planning the venue and picturing the honeymoon. And hey, maybe even the physical stuff, they want closeness FAST. But not in a creepy way, they’re just excited to nurture you. MARRY YOU, even. Like… who does that anymore?!? 🥹

They give off BIG masculine energy, regardless of gender. Like… protective, active, pure-hearted, sunshine-in-human-form kind of vibes. i think you'll spent your life protecting and nurturing others so now your person is going to do all of that for you. This person is gonna light your whole life up. The Four of Wands says: “Happy endings only, baby.” Sooo yes, your life’s been all logical and methodical lately, but they’re here to remind you that JOY still exists, and you deserve it. ✨

Alsoooo, this person will be OBSESSED with you and we know that by now. but they are gonna respect you so much as well. Maybe even be intimidated and stunned by your emotional strength. Like they’ll see you as someone above them. The moment they meet you, it’s like “oh dang, I gotta step my game up to win them.” Which is HOT. They see you as an opportunity. The blessing. The “I can’t lose this or I’ll regret it for life” kinda vibe. You’ll make them realise what matters, no more wasting time with flaky BS ❤️

For some of y’all, your partner might’ve been a little wild before, like fucking around and doing whatever i want vibes. But after meeting you? BABY they’ll go through a whole mental transformation You’re more stable by the time they meet you, and they’re gonna learn so much from you, especially emotionally and spiritually. Maybe you’ll be going through a time of spiritual healing when you meet them, prolly because of the heartbreak we talked about earlier. Because some of y’all are interested in spirituality, art, literature, all the mystical and deep stuff. You’re that empathic, emotionally intelligent angel who helps them feel things properly for the first time. And that’s the reason they'll be losing their sht.

They’ll mirror you. Like literally pick up your habits, try your hobbies, and follow your routines because they just wanna be in your world. And this is NOT a time-waster. Nuh-uh. This person is action-oriented. They see something? They go for it. They like someone ( YOU)? They say it. No games, no hesitation. It’s giving: “my boy saw the girl, and he WENT FOR HER” 

They’re gonna LOVE being around you. Worship your presence. Be obsessed with your voice especially. Also… this is gonna sound wild but THEY MIGHT SEE YOU AS A BABY COW  (but like the cute, innocent one okay!!). Especially if you’re younger or just have this sweet soft vibe, they’re gonna be like “must protect this smol bean.” 🥹

And if your last relationship made you be the parent all the time?? Like the mature one always giving and fixing? BLESS. THIS. NEW. RELATIONSHIP. Your persona is gonna heal that. They’re the protector now. They’re the one initiating, solving conflicts, planning a dang future with you. It’s not just love, it’s “LET’S GET MARRIED” level .

This person is LOUD. Like socially, energetically, “life of the party” loud. And you? You’re chillin’, vibing, admiring them from the corner, “that’s my person.” It’s giving introvert + extrovert harmony. Yin and Yang. Opposites that complete each other.

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⊹₊⟡ Pile II

Cards pulled: Knight of cups, Knight of wands, the Sun, queen of swords, queen of cups, page of Pentacles, the Chariot and Oracle cards.

AHH MY FAVOURITE PILE. SEXYYYY LMAO

TO desribe your person's impression of you in few words: forbidded. irristible. tempting.

instantly when your person first meet you or have a proper conversation with you, they're gonna be like, "hey baby i think i wanna marry you" 🫡 (IYKYK) but the challenge they're gonna face is going to shake their ground 🤣

Your person is kinda like a bee. A WHOLE BEE. Just like a bee who wanders from one flower to another, and they believe there are many to taste and many to explore in this whole garden but they are so wrong with this mindset of theirs lol. Because the moment they meet you they’re gonna slapped with the reality check which will shatter this mindset😭😭

 I feel like you'll are someone who puts a strong emphasis on material things and how you look and how the materialistic aspects of life and your social standing, career, and everything around that theme. You're ambitious towards your dream and goals, and you really value your social standing and everything related to the Venusian theme. And there is nothing wrong about that. you value your reputation immensely, this is something your person is going to notice as the first thing in you. To your fs you seem like someone who doesn't need anyone to complete you, to validate you, and that kind of intimidates your person initially, cuz they picks up on that instantly. that kind of want them to chase you HARDER because to them it seems you don't need them and they are not used to having run behind someone everrrrr. I think they had a fair share of suitors and people crushing on them, so they got whoever they wanted, but this time the script was flipped so they just can’t keep it lowkey anymore😂. And suddenly, they want to impress you (good luck with it mr/ms future spouse) . I think for a lot of you this person is going to be a younger person. But there is definitely going to be age gap of some sort. If not literally then surely on a maturity/ emotional level. 

I’m also seeing that some of yall might be into healing job or something where you have to talk to people. You might be in a healing job like therapy, medicine, consulting, or something along these lines or maybe you’re just that one friend in your friend group whom everyone trauma dumps to cuz they know you would listen to them with no judegement and offer them the best adives. Either way, your person sees this soft, trustworthy energy in you right away. You just feel safe to them. Solid. Like you’ve got your priorities together, even if you’re still figuring things out (no judgment, same). There’s a huge chance you’ll meet this person through work or something career-related. Could be your first job, your current field, or even on a random trip that’s kind of job-related. When they meet you, it weirdly reminds them of something from their past, something emotional or meaningful, and it hits them. Like, you just click with a part of them they forgot was still there. 

COMING TO THEM, Your future spouse is such a softie🫠. They seem quite charming, gentle and caring in nature. They are also super romantic when they actually let themselves show it. This person is one of the affectionate towards you and they are willing to commit towards you. They genuinely respect you a lot. Like, they see you as the full package. But here’s the thing about them, they kind of don’t think they’re the full package YET. They look at you and feel like they’re not on your level yet. Like they need to upgrade themselves and work on themselves a lot before even thinking about asking you out. They want to, they really do, but your strong energy throws them off just enough to make them second-guess themselves.  Still, they’re not backing off (GOOD JOB). one thing is for sure, They’ll be super into you from the get go, like instant butterflies. You might notice they get a little nervous or try too hard to play it cool, but underneath that, they’re basically like “how do I win this person over?????????.”

you come across as strong and soft, which is kind of your superpower. You speak your mind, but in the most graceful, non-aggressive way that still leaves people like “damn, okay.” That’s what gets them.

this might be someone who’s already in your extended circle. Could be a friend, mutual, someone from a family connection, or maybe they pop up at a gathering where there’s already some shared comfort. It’s not giving stranger vibe, it’s giving “Hey, why do you feel kinda familiar?” There’s this cozy vibe with them, like you’ve known them in some alternate reality. It could also be a past life connection.

Also, you're gonna find them super soft whn you actually get to know them on a deeper level. Like innocent-in-a-cute-way soft. They’re still figuring life out, but not in a mess, they’re just young-soul energy. And ou're the wise owl here. You’ll feel it. You’ve seen things, learned things, set boundaries, and now you’re in your “I don’t have time for nonsense” era. You’re fiercely protective of your independence, your peace, and your standards. Not bitter, not jaded, just self-respecting. You’re loyal, loving, and lowkey hilarious, and once people get past your gate, they’re in for life. That nurturing, “mom friend but make it glamorous” energy you radiate, that’s what pulls them in like gravity. You’re elegant and put-together in public too, like someone who always knows which fork to use and still makes it look casual.

Now your person is very into their goals. Like, this is the kind of person who has a whole plan of what they are going to do with their carrer. It could also be that they have some family business of some sort so their carrer path is already planned. They care a lot about career, money, education, and just...winning at life. And somehow, your connection will tie into that part of their world. Not saying it’s gonna be all business and work, but your presence shifts their focus. You spark something in them that makes them want more than just success on paper. You make them want real connection too. WITH YOU. they might act all chill and emotionally composed on the outside, but inside  they are just a fragile little baby 🫠They don’t always know how to handle all those emotions, though, so you might see them try to play it cool while they're internally spiraling like, “Why am I obsessed???”

They’re ambitious, yes, but emotionally not so skilled yet lol😭. You’re showing up as the wise one in this connection, and they’re the student. There’s a clear maturity difference here, but it’s not a dealbreaker. If anything, it’s adorable ( i’m lovinggg this😭). You’ve both got earthy energy, you vibe with the small joys of life. You’re the sunshine in the relationship, and they’re the knight/ the chariot protecting that light like, “Nobody mess with this, or you’ll answer to me.”

ALSOOO, They’re loyal AF, so you never have to stress about trust. Might be a little bit of a dreamer, definitely pretty (like, actually pretty), and they see the world with these rose-tinted glasses that make everything feel magical. They’re gonna look at you like you’re their personal dream ocme true. CUTEEEEEEE😭 Now, full honesty, they might not have been the most serious about love before. Kinda more “flings, sex and timepass” than “relationship goals.” But You're the exception. You're the one who flips the whole script for them. And they love it.

BESTIE THIS PERSON IS SOO UNPREDICTIBLE😭😭. Reading about them is like solving a confusing case. Something new is popping up every moment, once they are just fuck around energy, suddenly they are also career focused, then they are also emotionally deep and cute??!?!?! Like they are making me question myself😭😭

Like In their career and goals? Super focused. All about logic, hustle, planning. But in their personal life? Total softie. Cuddly, romantic, shy, and a little emotionally-driven puppy. Their heart leads in relationships, not their head. Which is funny, because it’s the opposite of how they act professionally. They’re not emotionally unstable or immature. they’re secure, they’re not gonna have you babysitting their feelings. It's a green flag there. Also, you two? Total “we feed the street cats and cry at sunsets” energy. You both adore the little joys like kids, animals, flowers, summers, random beautiful things, and they’ll totally join in on appreciating it all with you. If you say, “Look how cute this snail is,” they’re right there like, “OMG he has a little home 🥺.” songs cringe but with your fav person nothing remains cringe TRUST ME. 

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⊹₊⟡ Pile III

Cards pulled: 9 of wands, 2 of swords, the world, king of pentacles, 4 of swords, 7 of pentacles, king of wands, death and oracle cards.

Before diving into the reading, i'll have to say that this pile has the strongest and heaviest energies. I had to pause multiple times while doing this, and thus I will keep every message real with y'all as well to keep the real essence of the reading intact.

At first glance, you might look like someone who keeps everything to themselves, someone who’s always protecting themselves, guarding themselves, and has locked themselves inside a cage they made on their own. Maybe even someone who gets into conflicts here and there if someone tries to climb that wall. 

In your life, you might have faced a really painful betrayal, where you believed in something or someone with your whole heart. Maybe it was a dream, a person, a career, a degree, a friend, or anything you truly trusted, and it didn’t work out. It broke your heart deeply. After that, you started protecting yourself. Your person will witness this entire journey, they will see you going through all of this. They will understand the depth of your pain. Maybe the signs were always there, maybe it was obvious that things weren’t going to work out, but you still believed. And now, you might even feel like a fool for believing in it.

You might think, "I didn’t even try to understand the truth when it was right in front of me." This thing likely happened to you when you were very young, which made the pain even harder. And that’s okay. You were young and vulnerable. But somehow, this pain you went through , it’s also going to hurt your person deeply. Like, they’ll feel that pain in their heart too. There’s a really strong water sign energy here, I feel it clearly. Maybe it's Cancer, Pisces, Scorpio, or even strong water planets in you or their charts. Some of you might have these zodiac signs, or maybe you just love being around water, because while doing this reading, I keep getting images of water. I can feel this water energy very strongly. Maybe your person is a water sign. Anything is possible.

Your person is going to help you go through this pain and heal from it. They will help you slowly open up again, break down those walls, and rebuild your spark. They want you to spread your wings again. They’ll help you gently dust yourself off, slowly but softly, and break out of those walls you built around yourself. They’ll help you come back to life. Once again, this is not a first impression because this person has known you for a long time. Even before officially meeting, I feel like they will already know about you in some way. So the whole idea of a first impression doesn’t apply here.

This is like the first pile I read, I don’t see this as just a first impression, but as a full journey. But when your person sees you, they’ll think you are someone with deep empathy and softness in your nature.

Okay, I’m seriously getting emotional now. I’m not joking. A sentence just came to me so suddenly, and it hit me hard:

"It’s not your job to heal everyone." "It’s not your responsibility to take care of everyone’s emotions." You are only responsible for yourself love. Spread your wings high and just fly, because that’s what you deserve.

This is exactly how your person sees you. This is what they want for you. They want you to see yourself the way they see you, strong, worthy, and free. I can’t even explain how much this sentence affected me while writing. I had to stop for five minutes. That’s how powerful it was. It felt like the most beautiful message ever.

You’ll meet this person during a really low phase in your life, when everything feels confusing, and you’re struggling to make decisions. You’re stuck in a very critical moment. You’ll feel frustrated, lost, like nothing makes sense. And even your person will be feeling something similar in their own life. They’ll feel like they’re trapped too, like someone has put them at gunpoint and they’re being forced to just look at what’s convenient or beneficial to others. You’ll meet your person at a low phase in your life, when everything is confusing, when nothing makes sense, when decision-making feels impossible, and you feel like you’re stuck in a really critical situation. You’ll feel exhausted, stressed. And honestly, your person, they’ll also be in a similar phase. Maybe even worse. They’ll also feel like they’re completely stuck in their own life. Like they’re being held at gunpoint and people around them are being selfish. While you, on the other hand, won’t even understand what’s going on or what exactly you’re doing anymore. So love at first sight or basically falling in love os a theme youll both explore at the MUCHHH later stage of your journey together. 

Meanwhile, you're trying to figure out what you're doing with your life, and you can’t seem to understand anything clearly.

When yall meet or get to know each other, you might have been in a situation where your person could clearly see that you were going through a very intense phase in life. Maybe they were even a part of that journey, the journey where you had to face multiple moments of confusion and indecision. There were moment where you had multiple breakdowns and even times of self doubt and insecurity. And they’ve seen you go through all of that. So I feel like this person had already become a part of your life long ago, at a very early stage of your life because i don’t see any theme of first impression here. It’s more about how they actually see you. you'll only realize it much later, maybe very late in life,  how they’ve been ap art of your journey for so long, because you were so caught up and occupied with other areas of your life that you didn’t even notice this happening. You were so busy guarding yourself and protecting yourself that this wasn't even something that bothered you at all. 

A specific message i am getting is you’ll begin to know this person when you are going through an important phase of your life, a transformative one, and something that is testing you. Like an important exam in your life, your job hunting time? Or just anything along these lines which needs patience and resilience and trusting in oneself. 

This person is the kind of person who, more than themselves they wants YOU to succeed in life. This person will genuinely want you to succeed a lot in your life, move far ahead, and do great things. And they will notice how you hold yourself back from your true self, how you keep yourself controlled. They will see all of this and will want you to let go of this state of yours. They would wish you would stop holding yourself back and doubting yourself, and just spread your wings wide and high and explore every colours of life. 

AHHHH. this is crazyyyyy. SO Right after I told you to spread your wings, I pulled an oracle card I got a message from that oracle Card, and it showed me the image of the Phoenix. Phoenix is a bird that holds powerful fire energy. In the image, it’s shown spreading its wings wide and high. I seriously got goosebumps seeing ths. That card instatly gave me a very clear message from the universe, it confirmed what I had just told you. It showed me how much this person wants you to grow emotionally. They want you to break out of your comfort zone, spread your wings, and live your life fully. They want you to experience everything in this world.😭😭

I can strongly feel that this person would go all the way to make sacrifices for you. This is definitely a love where your person won’t mind sacrificing anything for your sake, if it means your happiness. GOSHHHH I CANT- 

This love is very real and grounded. It’s the kind of love where the person will go through ANYY pain just for you. They feel your pain like it’s their own. Maybe something happened in your past that made you become so guarded and protected, and this person wants you to feel your inner strength again. They want you to know that no dream or desire is more powerful than you. If you truly want to grow, nothing can stop you. This person carries very steady emotional energy, they are emotionally mature and stable. This isn’t someone who will bring unnecessary drama into your life over small things so you can be relaxed about that. One thing i noticed is how this person is SOOO similar to the the male lead of the kdrama when life gives you tangerines, how he dedicated his entire life for his wind especially him saying things like, “i can’t live without her” LORD.

This person will bring a lot of transformation into your life. The last card I pulled for you was the Death card, and that’s not negative here. It actually shows how this person is going to completely flip your life around and change everything for the better. As I’m doing this reading, I feel intense emotions. My energy feels drained, and my heart is pounding, i’m not eve kidding. I had to pause this reading multiple times cause the overload of emotions i felt were overwhelming at some point lol but im glad this tured out so beautifully ultimately HAHA. That tells me this is how strongly this person will feel about you, this is how deeply they will experience knowing you.

Again, this reading isn’t about a "first impression" because this is a long story. You both have known each other for a long time, longer than even words can explain. maybe even beyond this lifetimes. You complete each other, like puzzle pieces that perfectly fit together. So, in your case, there’s no such thing as a "first impression"   because your connection is very divine and complicated in a beautiful way.

You’re someone this person is truly ready to invest time, energy, and commitment into. They are ready to build something stable with you. They want to grow with you. As much as they want to live their own life, they also want to make you feel safe, happy, and secure. You both might even have a Twin Flame connection. Twin Flames often go through similar kinds of life events, and I think you both will experience that too. Maybe I’m wrong, but I feel like you two will have similar life stories or meet through a shared path. For example, maybe you're in the same college, doing the same course, or working in the same place,  there's a similarity here. Maybe through a same fandom of spiritual path. Your emotions will be very dependent on each other, even at a subconscious level.

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˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

[nebulaeternal]

「 ✦ Play by Play - Pt.1 ✦ 」

―⭑❥.ᐟ GENRE/WARNING: f!xm, porn w/little plot, guided masturbation, edging, teasing, size kink, overstimulation, dirty talk, pussy play, vulgar Caleb, absolute brainrot.

―⭑❥.ᐟ SUMMARY: Caleb had returned from Skyhaven, eager to see your face as always. Trying to sneak up on you, he finds a more pleasant surprise waiting to welcome him home.

―⭑❥.ᐟ WORD COUNT: 1.9K

―⭑❥.ᐟ A/N: Here's some more of my brainrot writing, this might be a little more accurate now that I have a better idea of his character. This is a multi-part fic, I'm not sure how many parts but its likely it'll be 2. Hope you all like it, let me know what you think! Enjoy! (Did wanna add once more that if you wanna join my taglist, to make sure your settings allow me to tag you and that your username is correct.)

―⭑❥.ᐟ LINKS: AO3 Ver. , Twitter, Taglist Sign-up

―⭑❥.ᐟ TAGLIST: @noone-png, @kicupo, @rafayelsplush, @imissnanami

Your legs were clenched tightly, the man before you held a gaze so hot it burned holes through your body. What were you doing before? You had been in your room, trying desperately to get off for the last hour, frustration etched in your movements and moans as you rubbed your clit, a groan of irritation leaving your lips as yet, another orgasm slipped through your fingers, literally. 

Unbeknownst to you, Caleb had come back from Skyhaven to visit you like always. He walked through the door quietly, hoping to catch you by surprise. Gently, he shut the door behind him and carefully set down his things, looking eagerly for you till he heard the sighs and moans that came from behind your door. He knew he shouldn’t be listening in but he couldn’t help it, you sounded heavenly. “Caleb~“

His heart thumped hard in his chest, did you know he was there? “Right there-“ the sighs spilled from your lips as he listened to you. Caleb crept closer, realizing now that your door was cracked just barely, giving him a good enough view of you.

The sight he saw before him made his body burn, his skin prick with sweat, and his pants unbearably tight. There you were, draped in one of his many shirts, not an uncommon occurrence for you, but seeing your legs spread and your hand on your cunt, it made something inside him stir. 

He stayed there for a while, debating whether to stay or walk away. Unable to let himself indulge in such a guilty pleasure he began to slink away, that is until he heard your frustrated groan followed by a whine.

Sneaking back to the door, he watched you throw your head back in defeat. A pout of frustration wore on your lips, the same pout he loved so much and couldn’t resist. Without even thinking he pushed your door open.

Startled, you gasped and scrambled under your sheets. Your face burned hot as you tried to compose yourself. “Caleb-“

“Ah ah.” He said, catching you somewhat off guard. He was so serious…Taking the chair from the middle of your room, he pulled it up beside your bed and took a seat.

Your eyes flicker down at his crotch to see the strain in his pants, before quickly looking back at his face, hoping he didn’t notice the shift in gaze. “What are you-“

“I know now. You can’t hide it anymore, there’s no need to.” When he said those words your heart dropped to your ass, beating fast as you stared at him almost in horror “Caleb I’m so fucking sor-“

“Open.” He commanded. You couldn’t quite read him and you stared at him bewildered. “Your legs, open your legs.” He said more gently now. “Wha-“ His fingers graze your legs through the blanket.

“You want me right? Want my help?” Gnawing your lip, you nod slowly but surely. “Good, then spread those legs, princess.” Your face burned hot as his words reached your ears.

Doing as he asked, you peeled the blanket away and exposed your bare lower half to him. He inhaled sharply through his nose and scooted closer, the vein in his neck straining.

He leaned in, his scent infiltrating your nostrils, almost instantly short-circuiting your brain. “Sit back for me and show me how you do it, yeah?” Shyly you nodded, positioning yourself to be right in front of him.

You wanted to desperately start up again, feeling your core begin to leak once more but you were almost scared stiff. “Relax, close your eyes, and listen to my voice.” You nodded, to which he was pleased. “Good girl…now play with your clit.”

Trying your best to calm down, your fingers crept lower, eyelids fluttering shut. A strangled moan left your lips when you reached your clit. You heard a shaky breath from Caleb, which only managed to spur you on further.

His eyes were trained on your face, flicking between the bliss you exuded and the way you worked yourself. His voice was husky and breathless, “Keep going just like that..” Caleb watched intently, savoring the whines that slipped past your lips. 

Seeing how slick your entrance had become, he wanted more. “Slide your fingers inside.” He rasped out, breath growing heavy. He watched your two middle fingers slip into your cunt, stretching the flesh around it. It took absolute restraint for him to stay seated, seeing the way your chest heaved, the moans that spilled from your lips, and the shallow thrusting of your fingers. All while draped in his shirt that was way too big for you.

As you continued, a creamy white ring started to form around your fingers, the noises lewd made your ears burn. “Caleb~ Please.” you whined out, not quite sure what it was you were begging for, but he knew.

Your moans only got louder, your fear and worry long forgotten as you sank into the pleasure. Slumping back onto your elbows, you instinctively spread your legs wider, seeking more. As you neared your peak, your movements became urgent, your moans more desperate–until his next command cut through your haze “Now stop.” What? Your body betrayed you, obeying him almost instantly. Though you didn’t stop entirely, your pace did slow down, a whine of frustration escaping your lips as your pleading eyes met his.

As much as he wanted to bend at your whim, and give you what you wanted, he didn’t. He had other plans for you. Leaning back into his chair, legs spread wide, he silently shook his head. “But why?” You whimpered, fingers still moving at a torturously slow pace.

“I told you to stop, princess. Why are you still moving them, hm?” you flashed him another pleading look to which he exhaled deeply. “Alright—go on.” With his permission now granted, you eagerly resumed your previous activities, slumping back into your elbows as the world around you faded into nothing but the intense sensations he had so carefully put together.

Lost in the indulgence, you barely noticed the faint rustling and shifting sounds nearby. Every ounce of focus was consumed by your approaching climax, your sole objective now was to reach it.

Then there it was, a moan that didn’t belong to you, a very strangled, guttural moan. You paused your movements, sitting up to look at him, only to find him palming himself through his pants. His gaze was lidded, staring at you through the fringe of his hair.

You stared at him almost in awe, forgetting your pleasure for a moment. Then he got up, his body moving almost completely beyond his control. Quickly he closed the distance, pushing you flat against the bed. Leaning down he whispers in your ear, “Don’t stop now, you’ve been doing so good.” 

Before your mind could process his words, you felt his fingers rest atop yours, aiding to push them deeper into your pussy, causing you to shut your eyes and moan loudly. Your eyes fluttered open when you heard him chuckle softly.

He continued to guide your fingers, his larger hand almost completely covering yours as you stared deep into his irises, purple and sparkling with mischief. You felt his finger start to intrude your entrance, sliding in right next to yours, causing you to gasp out.

“Caleb—oh fuck.” You tossed your head back into the sheets, absolutely blissed out. He studied your face closely, watching every change in your expression as he fingered you. Suddenly he stopped. Your head whipped up as you pouted but before you could protest, he hoisted you up and sat you in his lap, your back resting against his chest.

One of his arms hooked under your knee, bending your leg, while the other snaked over your waist and rested on your hip, forcing your thighs apart. You hadn’t realized the scene before you, till you saw the glint of his necklace chain in the mirror in front of you.

That’s right, the mirror that you look into every single day, making sure you were stylish before heading out, was now reflecting something far more obscene. Your cunt was on full display for him to see and his hand was only snaking closer to your clit.

Unable to deal with the embarrassment it brought upon you, you whipped your head away, trying to hide your face in his arm as best as possible. “Eyes up, baby girl.” 

“I-I can’t-“ you whined, almost pleading to let you off. Attempting to bury your face further, your body shifts slightly. He pinches your clit lightly, causing you to gasp out and arch your back.

“Yes, you can. Now eyes up.” He instructed soft and low into your ear. You managed to look up, finding his face nestled in the crook of your neck, peeking out over your shoulder as he slipped his fingers inside you.

“Oh my god—“ you sighed out, body tensing in his hold as he worked you slowly. Caleb watched you through the reflection of the mirror, loving how you squirmed and whined for him. The grip on his forearm was rough, nails digging crescents into his skin. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” You practically sobbed out after being denied an orgasm for so long.

Your other arm managed to find its way to his hair, gripping him tightly and pulling him even closer to your neck, moaning shamelessly as his teeth sank into the flesh of your neck.

He chuckled darkly, quite amused with your desperation as your hips bucked up to meet his fingers. Your pussy was a leaking mess, fluids and juices flowing down onto the bulge of his pants—that sat right below your cunt.

He continued to tease you, bringing you too close to your high and refusing to let you fall. A tortuous tug of war ensued with your body. Tears of frustration streamed down your face as you babbled and begged him. and as much as he loved the sound of your pleading whines, he couldn't help but give in to your pleas, he wanted to have fun too after all. 

Slowly, he slipped his fingers out of you, squelching in the process. Gently pushing you onto your feet, he spun you both and dragged you onto the mattress. He slowly removed his shirt, exposing the expanse of muscle that lay beneath the fabric.

Your face grew hot with each inch of skin exposed, eyes trailing down to the ‘V’  that dips right under his beltline. You were staring so hard you didn’t even realize his shirt was fully taken off till his hands reached for his belt buckle, slowly unclasping it.

“Like what you see?” He teased, watching the way your eyes followed his movements, how you subconsciously gnawed on your lip, absolutely mesmerized. You’re not quite sure how, but you were suddenly possessed with the courage to walk up and touch him, but you did and something inside him snapped.

Caleb laid you down eagerly, sprawling you out on the mattress, admiring the view below him—you wearing his shirt, looking up at him flushed and desperate.

“Such a perfect mess for me.” He murmured, running a hand along your thigh, and pulling your hips flush against his crotch— loving the way you gasped and jolted at merely his touch. “You’re so sensitive, Princess~” he teased, emphasizing the nickname that had your knees weak.

Unconsciously you clench your legs, which elicited a reaction from him. He leaned down, dog tags clinking before resting on your neck as he whispered into your ear. “You love being called princess, don’t you? Princess.”

「 ✦ Pt.2 ✦ 」