#that i mentally tune that ship out

[necrotic-nephilim]

for the ask game (1)

au where bruce is attracted to his robins and batgirls. he tries not to think about it or act on it, but it's getting more difficult with every new member of his team he acquires. does anyone know? do the robins and batgirls notice his weird behavior? what do they do about it? do they ever find out the truth? who would think it's terrible and who would find it strangely hot/comforting/nice? does bruce ever act on his feelings?

for the ask game!

oh my GOD do i have thoughts for AUs like this, i love this shit so dearly, dirtybadwrong Bruce who's trying to keep a lid on it my beloved.

i think the fun of this AU is if characters would notice Bruce lusting for themselves vs would they notice Bruce lusting for a different Robin/Batgirl. like does Dick pick up on it when it's just him and Bruce? no, because it's just. him and Bruce. he and Bruce are weird and complicated and hold endless bounds of nuance. that's just How Bruce Is, and Dick is the "test run", in a sense. he knows Bruce is new to this whole sidekick/family thing and is giving Bruce grace for being rough around the edges. but when Bruce starts looking at Jason or Tim or Cass that way, that's when Dick starts to notice. it's never enough of a suspicion he feels justified to bring it up, but the thought lingers. he's hyperaware and grows less and less comfortable with leaving them alone with Bruce. it's a weird game of chicken, Dick and Bruce staring each other down when Bruce's touch lingers too long. each waiting for the other to say something first. if Bruce ever broke and actually acted on his feelings, Dick would be eaten alive by the guilt of knowing something was up, but never saying something until it was too late.

obviously, Cass would know. there's no world where Cass *doesn't* know, the nature of who and what she is would immediately clock it. but the issue is, Cass doesn't have a good framework of what family looks like. she doesn't really understand familial vs romantic love bc she has no firsthand experience of what a parent's love should even look like. so she never calls it out. she just watches. i'm a fan of Cass believing this is normal and believing she too can express and act on attraction that's vaguely incestuous. maybe it's with Babs, maybe it's with Dick or Tim or Bruce himself. but she recognizes this as Normal and Accepted within the Batfamily, so it severely fucks up her understanding of familial love and i just. man it's my favorite thing about Cass in Batcest honestly, is how you can play with her lack of experience with love, boundaries, and sexuality.

Tim is the fun one for me. because my favorite flavor of BruTim is when Tim knows, as he agrees to be Robin, that there's a non-zero chance that Bruce is going to be Weird and agrees anyway because he's decided it's an acceptable risk. so Tim knows from the get-go because he's expecting it. if Bruce acts on his attraction, i think it's either with Tim or Cass first, because they're the most likely to confront him about it in a way that isn't entirely negative. Tim has accepted it's a possibility and Cass just seeks being loved and touched so. it leads to the first time someone's ever confronted Bruce about it. and the thing is, Bruce really doesn't like confrontation about his flaws. the first time Tim tries to imply he's okay with it, Bruce would lash out at the idea, tell Tim how inappropriate that is and benches Tim for a week. it'd probably take a united front from Cass and Tim to get Bruce to even *admit* to the attraction. still Bruce wouldn't allow it to happen and he brushes them off until finally, the dam breaks. it's fun if there's a cause like sex pollen, but i think it's *more* fun if it's just. a random fucking Tuesday and finally Bruce is at his limit. he has no real reason, there's nothing particularly different about that day's routine. he just sees Tim or Cass striping armor and sighs and gives in.

i don't think Steph, Jason, or Babs would notice until anything substantial happened. not because they're not wicked smart, but just because none of them were looking for it. Jason put Bruce on a pedestal when he was alive, and when he came back from the dead he wasn't close enough to be noticing Bruce's interpersonal dynamics outside of his narrow scope. Steph has no real framework for what healthy fatherhood looks like, so if Bruce's touches linger, if he stares too long, she just shrugs and assumes it's how it is. and Babs was just never quite close enough to Bruce to notice. if and when she notices, is when actual sexual things start to happen between Cass and Bruce. because Cass would see no reason to hide it. Babs would be pissed, but it'd be tricky to navigate. Cass would be an adult, even if she's only 18/19, so technically, she's old enough to be consenting. if nothing else, Bruce is a careful man. even when he breaks and gives in to his desires, he covers his tracks well. he makes sure he has enthusiastic consent and there's no legal recourse that could be taken. age of consent and all that. there's not much Babs can *do* other than try to tell Cass (and/or Tim) that this isn't normal or okay. not that it gets her anywhere, but god would she try.

by the time Duke comes along (if we venture out of the pre-Flashpoint era) i think it's a sort of. open secret, in the Batfamily. talked about in nothing but hushed whispers and knowing glances. at some point, they've all had sex with Bruce, caving all for different reasons. some more than others. Tim sees it as a duty, Cass sees it as a way of seeking comfort, Steph sees it as getting Bruce's approval for once, etc. it's never forced on them, but eventually, they all come to Bruce sooner or later. and that's the fun irony of it, i think. they try to convince the others not to, but would go to Bruce on their own well. because complicated reasons they can't put into words. sometimes, Bruce is just a messy man who doesn't realize how prized his Attention to for the rest of the Batfamily. that weird duality of not liking him, but also wanting desperately for him to like you. all of them have dealt with it, at some point. so for Duke, it takes a while for him to understand this... whole dynamic. it's Cass who tries to explain it to him, and he's a little horrified, a lot confused. especially when Bruce starts staring at him a little too long as well. i think he'd only want to watch first but well. they all cave eventually.

also fun bonus if we venture into the Dark Knight Returns universe for my bestest girl Carrie Kelley: there's such a like, "i'm fucking around and i'm finding out" vibe to Carrie. like Tim, she's very proactive in just. deciding she's going to be Robin and she's ready for whatever that entails. (IMO canon Carrie is closer to fanon Tim than canon Tim is but *that* deserves its own post-) like she takes one look at the old man that is Batman and goes yup. he's never fucking getting rid of me now. if Bruce started having weird feelings about her, i think she'd have *fun* with it. she's decided she's in it for the long haul and for whatever being Robin means so. she's almost teasing about it, seeing how hard she can push before Bruce snaps. since it's an older, gruffer Bruce, i think he'd express open annoyance at it first, almost a sort of banter about how Carrie behave. but of course he caves and Carrie leans into it, because there's a fun in having all of Bruce's attention to herself. in the main timeline, Bruce is pretty split with so many Robins and Batgirls, but during their era, it's *just* her and him and she's very proud she's got him all to herself.

[shellsweet]

Hello! Wanted to say I absolutely adore your art and saw you've mentioned selling prints before? Do you happen to have a store link? Having some of your art in my TMNT collection would be the highest of honors!

Thank you so much for the kind words! That's a huge honor! I appreciate it! I sold a huge batch a few months ago, I was privately shipping those by myself. I'm planning to do one more final batch soon, which I was hoping to do by now but work and life are kinda getting in the way right now. I'm hoping to make this a 200 copy limited print run when I'm completely finished. If you'd like to reserve a copy, please feel free to send me an email to shellsweetart@gmail.com and I can send you the google doc that has all the information on the print and process (Also includes the request fill out form to get you started!). This will treat your order as a pre-order, and as soon as I start getting everything together again, I'll start with the payments/ect. I appreciate everyone for being so understanding!

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

pretty fixation, wicked temptation | b. blake

masterlist

summary: season six - one-hundred-and-twenty-five years in cryosleep made both you and bellamy crave each other’s touch, but you need a place to satisfy your urges without disruption. perhaps a new planet would do the trick. and what better way to heighten the anticipation than with a little challenge?

warnings: porn with plot, sexual crying??, teasing/taunting, mild gore, mild exhibitionism, murphy being a cockblock, mild size kink, mild bdsm, begging

note: this is the first one-shot/smut I’ve ever written so I kinda went overboard, but I promise it’s worth it in the end. you can imagine a different season of bellamy if you want (fuck you) but I personally think he’s extremely hot in season 6.

word count: 16.7k

“…I hope your lives there will be as happy as mine has been,” an aged Monty spoke on the monitor. “Be the good guys. May we meet again.”

You stared out the window of Eligius IV in awe, arms crossed over your chest whilst taking in the view of the planet you would soon call home. Plant Alpha. A place where, hopefully, everyone could find redemption. For you, it would be a place where you would find peace with your friends and family. And your boyfriend, Bellamy Blake.

“I know this is a lot to process,” Bellamy’s deep voice spoke to the group. “Take an hour, and then meet in the mess. We need to game this out.”

A few people in the room had a short dispute, but you tuned out their bickering, gaze locked on the view outside. Everyone began to disperse, leaving the room to gather their thoughts about what the future held for the last remnants of humanity. Everyone but you and Bellamy.

Your vision shifted from focusing on Planet Alpha to watching Bellamy walk towards you in the window’s reflection. He had changed drastically since the day you and the other Ark prisoners were sent to the ground. His body was broader, and more muscular due to the unrelenting battles he fought on Earth. His arms were bigger, stronger, and probably capable of carrying the weight of two people at once. And his hands, god, his hands—they were your ultimate weakness. They were much bigger compared to your own; his fingers were thicker and longer as well, and the things he could do with them… indescribable.

He now had a short, dark beard that circled his mouth and sparsely covered the sides of his jaw. You always loved the way it tickled your face whenever he kissed you and when it rubbed against your inner thighs whilst he went down on you.

What had changed the most was his mentality, which somehow made you fall even deeper in love with him. Bellamy Blake may have been twenty-three when you first met him, but he was then still just a boy. Now, he was a man.

“You okay?” he asked, his arm snaking around your waist as his towering frame stood beside you.

Leaning into his body, you both soaked in the rays of the two suns shining through the ship’s window.

“Just hoping we don’t make the same mistakes we did back on Earth,” you spoke. “There are a lot of people on this ship in need of a second chance.”

Bellamy chuckled. “Yeah. More like a fifth chance.”

You smiled, humming in agreement.

“This time will be different,” he continued, eyes narrowed at the planet in front of them. “We can’t keep making the same mistakes without learning from them. We won’t have bombs, or missiles, or war. I’ll make sure of it; if not for the last of humanity, then for you.”

You turned your head to look at him. Such a softie.

“I ever tell you how much I love you?” You reached one of your crossed arms across your torso and rested it on his which was cupping your waist.

In response, Bellamy’s hold tightened just a little bit more, causing your heart to fumble from the affectionate gesture. “On a few occasions.”

However short the one-hundred-and-twenty-five years in cryosleep felt to your mind, your body could feel the effects of lacking physical touch for such a long time. Bellamy’s touch. Apparently, he felt the exact same way.

“I can’t believe I haven’t seen you in over a century.” His voice became soft. He turned your body to face him with his back now facing the window. Dark brown eyes gazed down at you with an intensity only he could create, sending a sudden desire to let him absolutely ravage you right where you stood. His free hand reached up to your face and gently stroked the side of your cheek, the other now caressing the exposed skin of your waist. “Or touched you.”

Closing your eyes, you focused on the areas in which his skin connected with yours. Having been in a relationship with him for a few years, his touch became a familiar sensation. Despite that, on a purely physical level, your body had forgotten the pleasure-filled heights to which he could take you. Everything seemed new again, like the very first time he touched you.

And no matter the fact that time in cryosleep seemed like it passed instantaneously, neither of you could deny the obvious pining your bodies felt for one another.

You stepped closer, hands moving to rest on his chest. The distance between your bodies closed and you whispered, “Or felt me.”

His hands stilled, realising what you had meant. He leaned backwards, enough to get a good view of the look in your eyes. It was something deep and hungry for release. Sure, you’ve both had sex plenty of times; you’ve fucked rough and fast, made love sweet and slow—however many other variations there were, you’d done it—but Bellamy had never seen your desire for him appear as powerful as this.

Your eyes were swirling with a dark passion, like rolling waves in desperate need of a crest. Your cheeks were flushed, pupils so dilated your irises were almost obscured, and lips reddened and becoming plump even despite having made no contact with his own yet. It was no doubt a mirror of what you were feeling inside.

He took in a long deep breath, eyebrows furrowed as he took in your appearance, trying to steady his heartbeat which was raging out of control. You looked so beautiful. All the blood in his body drained to the lower half of him, leaving him light-headed and fuzzy, lust being the only thing to fill the contents of his mind. Bellamy could never stop lusting after you, he had just learned to control it. A one-hundred-year wait seemed like a perfectly acceptable reason to let loose a little.

“Fuck,” was all he said before his lips came crashing down onto yours.

It didn’t start slow, but rather fast and desperate. So desperate. Even so, your mouth moved in sync with his, alternating between sucking in quick breaths of air, kissing his soft yet rough lips, and allowing him to run his tongue over your own. Your hands moved up into his pushed-back hair, fingers delving between his brown waves to give a small tug, pulling a groan from inside him that buzzed against your lips.

He pulled you closer to his body with strong arms wrapped around your back, the sensitivity between your thighs coming into contact with his hardness. The material of your pants rubbing against you only enhanced the shiver-inducing sensation.

You reigned your focus back onto his lips. His mouth was hot against yours, unrelenting, catching your lips with his between each frantic breath of air. His tongue rolled over your own, so intricate and possessive as it pushed into your mouth.

Before you knew it, his hands had moved to the backs of your thighs and lifted you into his arms; your lips never disconnected. This was a movement you had both performed many times, so it wasn’t done without skill. He took a few steps forward before placing you on the control bench behind you. You hoped there were no important buttons beneath you that would cause End of Humanity 4.0.

His mouth moved from yours and down to your jaw, cupping his hand on the side of your neck to keep your head steady. You couldn’t tell if it was a moan or a sigh that escaped you. Maybe it was a mix of both, but whatever it was, it egged him on further. He had moved down to your neck, sucking and nipping at the soft, delicate skin. This time you were sure it was a moan you let out.

He curled his hand around your neck just below your jaw, careful not to apply too much pressure, but just enough to remain in control. He loved to be in control; he also knew how much you enjoyed it too. You loved how small he made you feel compared to him, how he could dominate you without an ounce of effort.

Your legs and his were in between one another like two puzzle pieces fit together, his knee between your thighs and pressing against your clit without him even realising it. Grabbing onto his shoulders for support, you pushed yourself further onto his knee, beginning to grind yourself against him as he continued to press kisses to your neck.

“Eager, huh?” his voice vibrated against your skin.

Now he knew.

Having realised what you were doing, he pushed further onto you, heightening the pressure as you rolled your hips against him. Your head fell back. It had been so long since your body had experienced such pleasure; you knew it wouldn’t take much to reach climax. Not that it mattered. It always took you both a few rounds before you were too exhausted to move anymore. Sometimes, even fatigue couldn’t stop you two.

After deciding enough damage was done to your neck, he returned to your mouth, this time slower and more sensual.

You could have easily come undone the way you were going, grinding yourself against him but knew it would be nothing compared to the release given by his hands. Greedy as you were, you wanted—needed—more, and you knew he would never deny such a request. Your satisfaction was his own after all.

“Bellamy,” you breathed against his lips. “Touch me.”

His forehead came to rest against your own, he too breathless from the heat of the situation.

“Didn’t know you were into exhibitionism, princess,” he spoke lowly with a smirk.

“Who said I was?”

“Well, technically, we have a whole world watching us.”

You rolled your eyes, a playful grin stretching across your lips only to be intersected by a short gasp as you felt his hand slip through the waistband of your pants and press against your clit.

The second you felt his fingers apply pressure and begin to move, the door to the room burst open.

“Hey, you guys need… Jesus Christ!”

Bellamy’s hand left you quicker than it came, or quicker than you came to be more exact. The both of you jumped up from your positions and turned to see Murphy standing at the door, eyes squeezed shut.

“You ever heard of knocking, Murphy,” Bellamy grumbled.

“It’s the fucking comms room!” he complained. “Just–we need you guys out in the mess hall. Now. Oh my god.”

He made quick work of leaving the room, mumbling something about rather having a missile dropped on him than ever having to witness that again.

You looked at Bellamy who seemed to share the same flustered state as you.

He blew out a stabilising breath and placed a hand behind your back. “Come on, we should see what they want.”

Still slightly trembling, you nodded, allowing him to guide the both of you out of the room as you attempted to fix your dishevelled hair. After walking together down a few hallways in tense silence, you both reached the mess hall to see the group sitting around a table, discussing something quietly among themselves. Among them was Murphy, who overdramatically shuddered at the sight of you two.

Before you could walk over, Bellamy grabbed your upper arm, leaning down until his hair brushed against your temple and he whispered, “I’m not done with you.”

He slid past you and walked towards everyone else, acting casual as they all burst into conversation. A minute or two passed until you had regained enough composure to join the group.

**********

It had been about two hours since the incident in the comms room. A plan had been set in place regarding their journey to the ground. One minute, you were safe and sound on Eligius IV, and the next, you and a small group were descending into the atmosphere of Planet Alpha in a ship.

There was a giant, wall-length window on the front of the ship that revealed the outside surroundings once you dipped below the clouds. This world was… otherworldly. Literally. The largest sun bathed the world in a constant orange glow, and the surface was covered in an abundance of vibrant green trees that sat atop various hills and rocky snow-covered mountains. All the clouds were a light orange; the sky was more pink and orange than blue. It was like they had entered a landscape painting depicting heaven.

Everyone seemed to share the same look of astonishment.

Shaw turned in his seat to face everyone. “Boys and girls, meet Planet Alpha.”

With a shudder, the ship finally planted itself on the ground, the machine hum cutting off as the rockets stopped firing. Belt buckles clicked as everybody stood from their seats, moving in front of the door, awaiting its opening. You looked beside you to see Bellamy with that same tiny grin he had the first time they opened the dropship doors. It seemed like a lifetime ago now. Technically, it was well over a lifetime ago.

He pulled down the lever and the door began to fall open. A gust of breathable fresh air wafted in your face and you inhaled deeply. It was sweet and unpolluted. Everyone remained still as they took in the incredible scenery. There were no words to describe it.

“Anyone got anything better than ‘we’re back bitches’?” Miller jested.

“Yeah,” you spoke. “Let’s not bite the apple this time.”

There were a few chuckles, a few sentimental words exchanged, along with a few heated words spoken between Shaw and Clarke. Some people were still upset over her betrayal back on Earth. What they were yet to realise was that this was not Earth, this was someplace new, a place for second chances and new beginnings.

They were supposed to be looking for a beacon that depicted a safe place for them to take up residence. Shaw, along with his tracking device, began heading in the beacon’s direction and soon enough everyone else followed suit.

You took a few moments for yourself to take in the surroundings and silently thank Monty and Harper for their sacrifice. A bittersweet smile sat on your lips and a single tear slipped down your cheek. A Garden of Eden this was, and they’d be damned if they let another serpent in.

Without even realising it, Bellamy had stood beside you, his arm wrapping around your shoulder before pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head.

“We’ll do better this time,” he reassured as if he could read your mind.

You turned your head and pressed a quick kiss to his shoulder.

His eyes crinkled as a soft smile grew on his lips. “Come on, let's catch up to the others.”

And so, you did.

Following Bellamy until you caught up with the rest of the group, you began the journey to the beacon, trekking through the new and undisturbed forest. Though it was beautiful, you still had a lingering fear of what might lurking in the thick clusters of trees. Maybe there were Grounders here too. At least they were human beings with actual consciences. This was an entirely new planet in an entirely new solar system so there could be animals or beings they had never encountered before.

All you could do was pray you weren’t on the bottom of the food chain.

An hour or two passed before the forest began to thin out and give way to a lake of pristine blue water surrounded by overlooking mountains.

“Looks like we found a water source,” Bellamy spoke as they stepped onto the tan sand. “We’ll camp here tonight and continue on at first light.”

They were confronted wave after wave with the planet’s beauty without end. It almost seemed too perfect. As everyone was distracted by the new view, Murphy began walking towards the water, removing a piece of clothing with each step, completely disregarding the fact that he had healing bullet holes on his body.

You stepped forward to stop him just as the others did. “Murphy, wait, your­–”

He glanced back at you, cutting your sentence off. “Comms room!”

That shut you up, as well as causing your face to redden intensely.

Clarke stepped beside you, watching as Murphy took off his shirt and stepped into the water, diving beneath the surface. “What was that about?”

“Uh, nothing.” You side-eyed Bellamy who was shifting his weight, clearly uncomfortable.

Soon enough, Murphy had resurfaced, his wounds bleeding and turning the water around him a faint rust colour. Not that he cared.

“Come on in, the water’s fine!” he shouted.

Emori was next to enter the water, though not entirely at her own will. It was nice to see her and Murphy enjoying themselves, but who said they could have all the fun?

Without a second thought, you unclipped your backpack and dropped it to the ground, tying your hair into a low bun with the band on your wrist. You lifted your long-sleeve shirt over your head, leaving you only in your low-cut tank top. You had thought it would have been Bellamy who was first to notice, except it was Clarke whose eyes were now trained on your chest.

Brows raised, you motioned to your eyes with two fingers. “Eyes up here, Clarke.”

She cleared her throat and mumbled an apology, focusing back on Emori and Murphy.

You walked over to Bellamy, standing beside him as he watched the scene in front of him. His attention quickly shifted to you as your hip brushed against his hand.

“What d’you say, Blake?” You unbuttoned your jeans, pushing them down to your ankles and stepping out. “Up for a swim?”

His lips parted as he stared down at your half-naked figure. Before he had a chance to answer, you were making your way down to the water with a tantalising grin. You were nothing if not a tease and he knew that firsthand. A little extra sway in your hips was all it took for him to start removing his own backpack and undressing his upper body.

The water had reached up to your hips before a pair of hands abruptly grabbed onto your waist. A short shriek escaped your throat before you were tackled beneath the water. Resurfacing, you wiped the water from your eyes, coming face-to-face with an amused Bellamy.

“Asshole!” You attempted to push his chest, but he didn’t budge, instead, he wrapped his arms around your waist again and began dragging you both further out.

“So easily riled up,” he teased with a smirk.

Sighing defeatedly, you leaned into his grasp, allowing him to keep you both afloat. Bellamy could just touch the lake floor, so you knew if he let you go, you would be drowning. Swimming wasn’t exactly anyone’s strong suit, so you just hoped you hadn’t done anything previously to piss him off.

Your legs curled around his torso. At first, the action was innocent, but then you realised that the little performance you made on the beach had consequences. Hard consequences that he seemed to be very aware of. Eyes blown wide with surprise, you squeezed your legs around his hips, grounding yourself onto him.

He grunted softly, tightening his hold on you. “You do that again and I won’t care if everyone is watching.”

The deep sense of possession enveloped in his voice sent warm tingles running down your spine, replacing the coldness of the water surrounding your body. Knowing him, he probably wasn’t lying either, especially given both of your rising desires for each other. For a split second, you were ready to test the legitimacy of his threat, but rationality was quick to jump in.

As you loosened your hold around him, you were unsure whether the look he gave you was of praise or displeasure. If you couldn’t do that, then you would at least take advantage of the opportunity for another type of intimacy.

Placing a hand on either side of his jaw, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his which he was quick to reciprocate. Droplets of fresh water dripped from the wet strands across his forehead, mixing between your skin and his, and alleviating the heat of each other’s desire.

His hands ran up and down your back underneath your saturated tank top, leaving a trail of warmth in his wake. Over and over, you kissed him and then you’d take a split second to get some air. It quickly became a pattern yet each time your lips met became more and more exhilarating.

The moment was rapidly becoming more fervent with each passing second. Soon enough, you were clinging onto each other, the water rippling from your bodies moving ever-so-slightly against one another to create some kind of friction. You could hear Bellamy’s breathing become quick and uneven, just like your own. You could feel his tongue glide across your bottom lip as if to knock before entering. And just before you could let him in, you were pulled apart…

“Hey. Hey! None of that shit,” Murphy demanded from a distance.

Bellamy pulled away first, visibly frustrated as he turned his head to your interrupter.

You simply pinched the bridge of your nose and groaned, one hand still holding onto his shoulder.

“Shut up, Murphy!” you and Bellamy shouted in unison.

Even Emori was quick to come to your aid. “Come on, John, they were just kissing.”

“You haven’t seen the things I’ve seen,” you heard him murmur to her.

**********

The sky was blanketed in darkness long after the two suns dipped below the horizon. Insects were chirping, a small fire was crackling in the centre of the group, and tiny waves were cresting on the shore. You were leaning against a log of driftwood, legs extended in front of you as you gazed at the giant, ringed planet in the sky, its purple and pink hue reflecting on the lake’s surface.

Peace. Or so it would have been if not for the chaos running rampant in your mind.

Bellamy’s lips. Bellamy’s hands. Bellamy’s fingers. Your eyes fluttered shut. Bellamy, Bellamy, Bellamy–

A loud pop from the fire sounded which startled you from your thoughts.

Opening your eyes, you looked around the camp. Everybody else seemed to be in their own little worlds too, unable to shake the incredulity of knowing they were now on an alien planet. Clarke was on her back, gazing up at the foreign sky above; Jackson was enthusing about the unfamiliar wildlife. Echo simply admired the tall mountains that encompassed the lake, an expression of gratitude reflecting on her face. You would feel the same way too if your hormones weren’t raging like that of a teenage boy’s.

To add fuel to the fire—quite literally—Bellamy was bent over the flames, cyan blue sleeves rolled up to his forearms, and feeding more wood to the blaze. His dark curls were pushed back from his face apart from a few stray strands. His skin was shining from the humidity, sending your mind spiralling into a visualisation of the times he was on top of you, all sweaty and hitting that eye-rolling spot inside of you over and over.

You sighed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. This was ridiculous; he was your boyfriend and yet every time he was near, your body responded to him like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“Something on your mind?”

He had sat down beside you, your shoulders now pushed up against one another.

More like ‘someone’, you thought.

“Nope.” You crossed your legs over one another, thighs squeezing together in the hopes of providing some kind of relief. You couldn’t even bear to look at him, afraid that your willpower would come crumbling to ruins. “No thoughts up here.”

Bellamy eyed your visibly flustered state, one cocky eyebrow raised.

His hand moved onto your leg. “Liar. I know your tells. And this,” he murmured whilst squeezing the inner plush of your thigh, “is one of them.”

Finally, your gaze met his, almost like you were in a standoff. He knew how much you were suffering. Mostly because he was too.

“Bellamy,” you warned.

He turned back to the fire, slowly kneading your inner thigh. “I’ve been thinking…”

“Uh oh.”

The flickering flames reflecting in his dark brown irises turned them a blazing orange but did nothing to alleviate the darkness that was sitting just behind his eyes. Taunting him probably wasn’t the brightest idea at that moment.

Then again, it also held the potential to be a fantastic idea. You knew how he got when pushed to his limits.

“Seems like we can’t go five minutes without being interrupted,” he began, curling his hand around your thigh. “So, I figured we may as well turn it into a challenge.”

“A challenge?” you asked, moving your hand on top of his and taking control.

He nodded.

Slowly, you began to guide his hand further up your thigh, inch by inch. As expected, he showed no resistance. You could even see the imprint on the front of his pants which were now tight for the third time that day. “And what exactly does this challenge involve?”

As you got closer to the destination you craved most, your movements became slower, and more delayed, contrasting to the increasing pace of your chest rising and falling. Your shoulders pushed back against the driftwood, your body reclining just a tiny bit further as you stared up at him, lips parted.

Bellamy watched his hand travel beneath your own, completely transfixed. “We, uh, see who can last longer without…” he trailed off as your thighs clamped tighter around him.

The side of his hand brushed against your clit through the material of your pants and your breath hitched. Thank god everyone else was too distracted to notice the situation unfolding before them. The fire was probably doing you both some favours as well.

“Without…?” you coaxed him on.

You pressed him firmer against you, rolling your hips in small circles to create the sensation you’d been longing for. He didn’t move, only allowing you to use him for your own pleasure. The muscles in your stomach flexed as tingles quickly spread across the lower half of your body, from your toes to beneath Bellamy’s hand. You’d give anything to let him give you your release then and there, but you knew an audience wasn’t exactly favourable.

That didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy the build-up.

God, Bellamy was right. You really were into exhibitionism.

By the way his brows were pulled together and his eyes looked almost pained, you swore he was about to come undone just at the sight of you.

He clenched his jaw and managed to ground out, “Without touching each other.”

Your eyes flickered between his, showing no sign of stopping your movements even when he finally managed to get out his explanation. You slightly bucked your hips forward, pulling him in further to which he inhaled sharply. Truth be told, Bellamy was the most stubborn person you had ever met, excluding his sister, Octavia. But there was one thing that could overrule Bellamy’s unwavering resolve, and that was you. Hell, on multiple occasions all you had to do was ask and he would be on his knees, mouth between your thighs in the blink of an eye, so he should have known the minute he announced his little game, you had already won.

“Okay,” you whispered with an innocent smile.

Within seconds, you had shot up onto your feet, now hovering over him.

Instinctively, he too moved into a standing position as if under threat. He stood so close that your torso was nearly touching his.

“What are you doing?” He leaned in close, voice low to prevent attracting any attention from the others.

“Um, winning?”

He scoffed. “Yeah, right. I’ve gone over a century without you; I can last a little longer.”

You took one step closer until you were flush against him. How could you not? It’s not like he’d expect you to make it easy on him.

“Only a little? Oh, come on Blake, have a bit of faith in yourself. You can last longer than that.” You looked him up and down. “I would know.”

He peered down at you, eyes half-lidded, and hummed a chuckle, one that was meant to say, ‘You are in way over your head, princess’. Maybe you were or maybe he was. What you both knew for sure was how the game was going to end, and despite your determination to win, that moment couldn’t come soon enough.

His body left yours and he backed away, a smug smirk resting on his face. He retreated over to Murphy and Emori, sitting on the log beside them and began engaging in their conversation.

You turned to face the fire, letting out a shaky breath you were hoping he couldn’t hear. It had become quiet now, the surrounding area seemed different compared to just a few minutes prior, but you couldn’t pinpoint why. The small waves were still rolling onto the shore; the campfire was still crackling.

Something was missing.

You scanned the area for anything out of the ordinary. Nothing.

“Ow!”

Your eyes snapped to the sudden voice. Clarke was sitting on a plank of wood, rubbing the back of her neck with her brows furrowed together.

Walking over, you sat on a log adjacent to her. “What happened?”

“Oh, just got bit by a bug.” She gestured to the dead insect lying on the wood beside her.

It had big, round eyes, and wings like a fly. Wouldn’t have been a cause for concern if it weren’t the size of your palm and had a tail like a scorpion.

“Some bug.”

That’s when you realised—all the insects had stopped chirping.

Almost on command, Jackson and Miller stumbled over to the campfire, gaining everyone’s attention as Jackson rambled on about how he had captured the same bug in a glass jar and its behaviour had randomly become erratic. People began rising from their seats and crowding to watch the insect smash itself against the glass. Clarke and you shared a concerned look.

The air, which once was silent and peaceful, began to buzz like you were all surrounded by a cluster of beehives. Reality was much worse.

“What the hell is that?” Emori spoke.

As if to answer her question, the sky suddenly filled with hundreds, no, thousands of winged insects, which seemed to follow each other in groups that formed large patterns in the air. You were willing to bet your life on them being the same as the one that bit Clarke. Great—man-eating bugs.

“Swarm.”

“Everybody cover up! We’re heading to the beacon now!” Bellamy commanded.

You snatched your backpack from the ground, pulling out a black cotton scarf before slinging the bag straps over your shoulders. Not long passed before the others did the same and you were all running for your lives through the dense thicket of trees. Branches snagged on your clothes, shredding them to bits as you struggled not to run face-first into a tree. You wouldn’t be the first to do it, though…. Murphy.

Your breathing was becoming irregular as your body pushed to its limits. As awful as it sounded, when Emori tripped over a fallen branch and the group had to stop and help her, you praised the lord. Everyone huddled together, the bugs now surrounding the group, flying past and leaving bite marks on your bodies. Luckily, Clarke had the idea to light a flare.

“They hate fire! Light the flares!” she shouted.

Someone came running toward you from where Emori had tripped, placing a hand on each of your upper arms. Upon seeing their eyes, you knew it was Bellamy. He wordlessly scanned your features for any wounds, his gaze a mixture of concentration and worry. You nodded as if to tell him you were alright, and he did the same.

After the ten seconds you were provided to catch your breath passed, you were on the move again, the flares now protecting the group from the swarm. The trees were becoming less and less, and the ground under your feet had turned into a wide gravel path that ended at a large field of crops surrounded by metal rod towers.

You continued running forward, following the others as the field grew closer. In front was Shaw, who was multi-tasking between tracking the beacon on his device and leading the group to safety.

“Here! The beacon’s here!” he shouted.

Just as he passed through the towers that bordered the crop field, a bolt of what looked like lightning struck him. He was sent flying back into the group with a yell, landing at your feet.

“Shaw!” You crouched down, observing the minor burns that were littered across his cheeks and forehead.

He groaned, pulling himself back onto his feet with your assistance. “I’m alright.”

Jackson rushed to his side, immediately pulling out his med pack and assessing his wounds. The damage wasn’t lethal but if they couldn’t find a way to get through to the other side, they would have more to be worried about than burnt flesh.

Clarke was already searching for an answer to their escape and once again, she found it.

“It’s radiation.” She looked around as the bugs began to circle them, blocking their long-distance view. “We need to get through. It won’t affect me.”

Before anyone could stop her, she was running through the shield-like fence.

“Clarke, wait!”

“Get back here!”

To everyone’s surprise, she made it out the other side without a scratch. But how was everyone else supposed to get through without Nightblood?

You felt a warm hand slip into your own, offering a small amount of comfort. You didn’t need to look to know whose it belonged.

“Clarke, the tower—its Eligius tech. You need the failsafe code to turn off the shield!” Shaw yelled out. “Four-seven-eight-one-five!”

Exhaling a sigh of relief, you squeezed Bellamy’s hand. There’s a failsafe code.

Clarke rushed to one of the metal towers, opened the control panel and punched in the code. The energy sources atop each tower dissipated, signalling the shield's termination.

“It’s down! Come on!”

Murphy was the first to pass through, dragging Emori behind him. Copying his actions, Bellamy tugged you forward, the both of you passing through the towers together. Once everyone made it through, Clarke powered up the defence again, causing the swarm of insects to disintegrate upon meeting the shield’s radiation bolts.

No one said a word. Instead, they used the time to catch their breaths, some laying on the ground and others dropping to their knees. You tugged the covering off your head and placed your hands on your thighs for support. Multiple strands of hair fell around your face as you bent over, trying to replace the air your lungs lost, a few strings of curses spilling out in between.

Bellamy, who was so inconceivably fit that his breathing was already slow and even, placed a hand on your shoulder. “You okay?”

Lifting a shaky arm from your leg, you gave him the thumbs up.

He tenderly massaged your shoulder and scanned the group to make sure everyone else was alright.

“What the hell was that?” Echo huffed.

**********

Night cycles on Planet Alpha operated very differently compared to Earth—darkness held the sky for a good five hours before the two suns rose again, much unlike the twelve hours everyone was accustomed to back on Earth. That and this planet sent man-eating swarms of insects whenever night fell. Or so you assumed.

The suns peaked through the distant treetops; orange beams of light were spread across the fields you had walked. A few hours had gone by since you first stepped through the radiation shields. A few hours of walking got you and the others atop a small mountain that seemed to be centred within the large circle of towers, providing a good bird's eye view of the fields of crops below.

You continued trekking up the well-trodden path on the hill, Bellamy and Clarke on either side of you. The last time you interacted with Bellamy was when you entered the protected area, but since then, you had avoided eye contact, physical touch, and conversation. You knew yourself; one wrong move and you would lose his game. Despite almost being eaten alive, you were still determined to stick to the rules, and even though innocent affection and conversation were allowed, you didn’t want to risk it.

Plus, total avoidance would only make him crave you more—the basic rule of men, unfortunately.

Emori walked a few steps in front of the group, her movements quickening as they reached a rounded corner. “Guys, look. Stairs.”

Orange-brick stairs came into view and you watched as Emori began ascending them, everyone else following behind her. You climbed up the stairs, Bellamy ahead of you by a step or two. Not for long though. Your pace increased until you were shoulder-to-shoulder, but only for a split second before you placed a hand on his bicep, dragging your palm across as you moved a few steps ahead of him. You could hear his breath hitch and a small smirk teased the corner of your lips. Now he was the one behind you—how he usually liked it.

If you weren’t going to interact with him, the least you could do was give him a good view.

Once you reached the top of the stairs, everyone stood side-by-side, taking in the view in front of them. It was incredible. It was like all the beauty on that planet had been condensed, thrown into a single area and turned into a village. That was what it was—a village. Plus, a castle?

“They have a castle,” Murphy said in wonder.

It looked like something from medieval times crossed with The Hobbit. The windows were circular and made of multi-coloured glass panes. The structure was made of bricks and rounded towers with various intricate patterns decorating different areas, and two round staircases curving up to a second-level balcony. It was so striking it had to have belonged to some divine being because no one else could have deserved such a beautiful palace. Well, there was one exception.

You glanced at Bellamy whose face was lit up with the brightest grin you had ever seen as he too let the beauty sink in. Your heart skipped a beat and you had to turn away. So, you turned to Murphy.

“Perfect for you, Murphy,” you jested. “King of the cockroaches.”

“Careful. Roaches bite, you know,” he retorted

You raised your hands in faux fear.

Clarke stepped forward. “Come on. Let’s see if anyone’s home.”

Most of the buildings looked modern and were made of glass and coloured wood or shipping containers, surrounded and covered by different types of flora. Flowers were not in short supply there, that was for sure; every garden held a new and exotic type. Even the pond in the middle of the village had flowers in it. There were coloured banners everywhere as well—some that hung from each building, and some that were standalone's. The suns’ light just made everything seem so much more vibrant and enchanting.

You and the others were going door-to-door, knocking on each one to see if anyone was there. So far, you had no luck, if that’s even what it was. Almost every home had been checked, but there was no one. The last house to be checked came by and apparently Murphy ran out of patience for simple pleasantries. He kicked the front doors open.

“Well, look at that.” He turned to the group. “This one’s unlocked.”

He stepped inside and began rummaging through the owner’s belongings, not that it surprised anyone very much. You watched as he bent over and picked up something that looked like a neck cuff connected to chains on a wall.

“Hm. Kinky.” He turned back to the group with a devious grin on his face. His eyes flickered between you and Bellamy. “Any takers?”

He gestured between the two of you with the chains as if he were offering them. Oh, you were so tempted to pull a knife on him.

Your eyes went wide, and Bellamy almost choked on his own breath. All eyes were now on you and him.

You took off in the opposite direction before anyone could say a word. “I’m–I’m gonna find a change of clothes.”

It was a perfectly reasonable excuse to leave anyway. Your clothes were practically threadbare from the rough escape through the forest. Thankfully, you could hear the group begin talking about something completely unrelated before you were out of hearing distance. You weren’t sure where you were headed in particular. Anywhere that wasn’t near Murphy or Bellamy would suffice.

You didn’t want to be apart from Bellamy at all. Quite the opposite. You wanted him. You wanted his hands to roam all over your body, to feel his arms tight around your waist as he thrust deep inside you from beneath, and to have his name dripping from your tongue as he made it impossible for you to distinguish the meaning between the words ‘love’ and ‘lust’.

(If only you knew that he was suffering the exact same way.)

However, his ego was much too inflated for you to let him win. It was a sacrifice for the greater good. The greater good being not having to constantly listen to him tease you for losing in the future. But as time went on and your body started physically reacting to the separation, losing started to seem like not such a terrible idea. You were conflicted. Give in, or push on? The decision was painfully frustrating and also just downright painful.

While amidst your thoughts, your feet had carried you to the opposite side of the village until you were standing outside a dark red-wooded house. Covering the poles that held up the structure’s second story were apple blossoms. “Let’s not bite the apple this time.” That was the first thing you had said after stepping onto the ground—a reference to the story of Adam and Eve. Now here you were, contemplating handing yourself over to desire. A literal bite of the apple.

You shook your head, pulling down the door handle to the red house and it opened. Locks didn’t exist in this place it seemed. Stepping inside, you noticed several cardboard boxes on the ground both opened and unopened. There was furnishing such as couches, bookcases, a round glass dining table, and leather seats, but they were all scattered across the room and half had white sheets covering them. It looked like the owner had just been moving in.

As you assessed the room, you noticed a floor-length mirror attached to one of the walls, so naturally, you moved yourself in front of it. The reflection did not match the person you were before leaving Eligius IV. Your bun wasn’t even a bun anymore; half of it had fallen out whilst the other struggled to stay within the hair band. Your clothes had more holes than you could count and were covered in a thick layer of dirt and insect blood. A grimace fell across your face. Gross.

At your feet was another cardboard box; it was opened with a variety of fabrics spilling out. Crouching down, you pulled out the black material at the top to find that it was a long-sleeve off-the-shoulder shirt. It wasn’t exactly practical, but it beat wearing insect organs. You exchanged your two previous shirts for the black shirt; the material stretched around your curves, clinging to your body like a second skin.

Next was a change of pants. You kicked off your shoes and peeled off your jeans, leaving you only in your black underwear and socks. And so, the search began. A good ten minutes went by and you found nothing but long skirts and dresses. You were not about to walk outside dressed up like some grounder princess. Not now at least. Maybe there were more boxes upstairs?

After locating the staircase to the second story, you began to climb. Just like the first level, there were boxes and furnishings. There was a large thigh-high mattress against the back wall with two glass doors on either side leading to a balcony. The mattress was covered in several different blankets consisting of shades between white and purple with a mountain of matching pillows at the head of the bed. On the wall facing the mattress was another floor-length mirror. These people had a vanity problem.

Much to your displeasure, none of the boxes upstairs contained any pants either, so there you stood in the middle of the room wearing only a tight shirt and underwear. You sighed in frustration, tugging your hair band from the bun and letting your locks cascade over your shoulders and down your back. With nothing else to do, you decided you might as well go outside and see what the others were doing. You stepped out onto the balcony; the house’s architect had the right idea by designing it with a concrete fence that covered your lower half.

The others were still lingering on the other side of the village. You rested your forearms on the balcony fence, watching as Murphy signalled for Shaw and Bellamy’s assistance with pulling a heavy wooden crate from inside one of the houses. Knowing Murphy, it was probably full of stuff he was going to take for himself, which would have explained Bellamy’s reluctant stance. There was also something else that seemed to be troubling him. He looked distracted, almost torn between choices, his eyes occasionally wandering to the opposite side of the village where you had previously walked off to. Nevertheless, he eventually did give in to helping Murphy.

And then suddenly time all around you began to slow down. You were in a trance and it was no one but Bellamy’s fault.

He shrugged off his jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves to his elbows, exposing his tanned and veiny arms beneath. He placed his hands underneath the crate and lifted in time with Murphy and Shaw. Even from such a distance, you could see his muscles tense and flex under the weight, the size of his biceps nearly doubling and bursting through the seams of his shirt. His face carried a strained expression, something you had seen many times before but in very different circumstances.

Your skin flushed with heat, and your bottom lip curled between your teeth as you struggled to keep your breathing under control. Blood was buzzing in your ears; you felt fucking intoxicated. You were aware of how feral your behaviour had become but it was inevitable. In a game like this, it had to be.

Once the crate was outside, he and Murphy placed it on the ground. Bellamy ran a hand through his hair, his gaze already beginning to wander once again. As if he could feel your stare burning straight through him, his eyes found your distant ones up on the balcony. The feeling of a hole being burnt through him was understandable because your eyes were ablaze with sin. That had to have been the tenth time you’d made him hard now and it was becoming painful.

You weren’t embarrassed to be caught staring, instead, you were intrigued as to what his next movements would be. But he made none. He simply stared at you over his shoulder, eyes stern and calculating. Who was going to win wasn’t the question anymore. The question was: How could either of you prepare for what was coming? A century’s worth of abstinence was also a century’s worth of build-up, meaning the release would be messy, and Bellamy wasn’t one to hold back.

Finally, he broke the eye contact, but only for a few seconds. His eyes moved to the building beside him and then back to you as if he were trying to get you to follow his gaze. So, you did. What he had gestured to was another pair of chains and handcuffs connected to a wall. Instinctively, you gasped, feeling a pulse in your stomach which you knew was his exact objective. You looked back at him, seeing the self-satisfied grin plastered on his face before he turned back to the group.

That son of a bitch.

Your back slid down the concrete fence until your ass hit the cold marble floor. He was driving you to sex-crazed insanity and you didn’t know how to fight against it. You needed something. Anything to relieve the torment. But you knew if you started, your hands would never stop, not until they were replaced with his.

Maybe the cuffs weren’t such a bad idea.

“No!” you had to verbally reprimand yourself.

Your head fell in your hands. This was all getting too much for you. One-hundred-and-twenty-five years… and a day! You wouldn’t call yourself a nymphomaniac but holy fuck. It was getting to the point that even his name had you aching, tearing yourself to shreds. You couldn’t take it any longer.

Moving onto your hands and knees, you began crawling—yes, crawling—back inside. You managed to pull yourself up onto the mattress with trembling arms and fell back against the quilt and cushions in the middle of the bed. A shaky breath left your lips. If Bellamy couldn’t be there to take care of you, then you would finish the job yourself.

You slipped a hand beneath the thin fabric covering your heat, fingers racing to meet the spot you needed. Back arching into the bed and stomach tightening—that is what you expected to happen when your fingers began circling your clit, but it was nothing of the sort. All you felt was skin on skin and the slightest of sensations. Even when you pressed harder, and moved faster, there was nothing.

Letting out a quiet, distressed cry, you readjusted your position and switched hands. You began rubbing back and forth, side-to-side, every way that had gotten the job done in the past. You moved one hand under your shirt and began massaging your breast, pinching and grazing your nipple, trying to replicate all the moves Bellamy had pulled on you before.

Still, there was no relief from the ache you felt. You needed to go further. Your hand moved lower, fingers hovering over your slick opening before sliding one in. This was never your forte; it was Bellamy’s. Whenever you needed to pleasure yourself, you would stick with outside stimulation, so all you knew was what he had done to you. After sliding your finger in and out a few times, you added another, but it still didn’t feel right. There was something you were missing that he usually did.

He took over your thoughts and you tried to imagine it was his hands instead of your own, but you were just fooling yourself. They were your fingers, not his. You were alone and you were desperate. No one could make you feel as close to heaven as him, not even yourself. Somehow, he knew the workings of your body even better than you did. Without him there in your desperate time of need, it was useless…

So, you started crying—like, actual tears-running-down-cheeks-and-sniffling crying. You felt utterly pathetic and that was all you felt. There was nothing you could do to help yourself. Bellamy was outside with the others, and it wasn’t like you could just waltz out there without pants on and ask him to fuck you incoherent.

Your fingers slipped out from inside you, wet and splayed across your bare stomach as you stared up at the ceiling, condemned to the unshakable longing within. Too distracted by your inability to satisfy yourself and your attempts to stop the tears from flowing, you didn’t hear the door downstairs open and closd. You sniffled, continuing to feel sorry for yourself.

Footsteps were coming up the staircase, but you didn’t hear them either. Nor did you notice the familiar figure that was now leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, feeling that same terrible longing that had led him to you. Only when he cleared his throat did you shoot up into a sitting position. 

Bellamy.

“Bellamy,” you whispered, eyes wide and full of new-found hope.

He didn’t say anything, just simply observed you. First, he noticed the sparse clothing on the bottom half of your body; his pants became the tiniest bit tighter. Then he saw your eager expression—even tighter. And then, his eyes found the fingers lying in your lap, coated in a shine that had his entire body pulsing.

The drying tears on your cheeks were a dead giveaway of the desperation you had for him. He tilted his head, insincere pity washing across his features that you knew was only meant to taunt you. “What did you do?”

Your mouth opened to speak but you couldn’t find the words. “I–I–”

He pushed off the doorway and slowly walked over to you, each step measured in regard to prolonging the time it took for the distance between you and him to close.

You moved onto your knees as he got closer.

Once he finally stopped beside the mattress where you were sitting, he peered down at you. “Just couldn’t wait, could you?”

His arms were doing that thing again where they bulged beneath his shirt. He was right in front of you, all you had to do was reach out and touch. So, you did. You reached for his arm, but he was quick to intercept, catching your wrist in his hand. He looked like he was holding back a smirk, but his scheming eyes revealed how he felt. Smug.

For a moment, he moved his attention to your hand, turning it side-to-side to watch the light catch on the wetness. His eyes returned to yours and it was suddenly impossible to guess what he was thinking. He gently began to pull you forward, guiding you off the bed and you let him, oblivious as to where he was taking you.

When your feet hit the ground, he led you towards the wall. What you had failed to notice when you first entered the room was that there was another pair of chains connected to a handcuff. Scratch what you had thought before—these people had a bigger kink problem than vanity. Before you even had a chance to think, the leather cuff was bound around both your wrists.

You looked up at Bellamy. “Wait, wha–what are you doing?”

He sat back on the edge of the mattress. “Giving you another chance to win.”

The game. You had almost forgotten.

Winning and losing were a foreign concept to your mind now. All you wanted was Bellamy and he knew it which was why he found teasing you so entertaining. You tugged on the chains, trying to reach out to him even though you knew it was useless.

“Don’t think that will work, princess.”

You stared at him, exhaling sharply. Frustration was quickly building, and you wondered how long it would take until you were in tears again.

He looked around the room as though he hadn’t a worry in the world.

“It’s kinda hot in here, don’t you think?” he asked, brows furrowed.

Then he was pulling his shirt over his head and you were sinking to your knees. That was just cruel. His entire torso was exposed now, from his well-defined abs and chest to his broad and muscular shoulders. So cruel.

Your head fell back against the wall. “Bell–”

“What were you thinking about?” he interrupted, arms crossed over his chest again. There was no material preventing you from watching his muscles expand, from seeing the crafted curves of his toned arms. “Before I came in.”

I was pretending it was you who was touching me, you thought of saying, but your voice failed you.

He leaned forward, forearms resting on his spread knees. Staring at you expectantly, he was quick to realise he wasn’t getting an explanation. He nodded as if to say, ‘I see how it is’.

“Was it my fingers…?” He began cracking his knuckles one finger at a time, gaining all of your attention. “Or was I inside you?”

Your walls spasmed at the thought and you sighed softly.

“Were you imagining what it would feel like to have me between your legs after so long?” You closed your eyes, listening to him put the images in your mind. “How good I can make you feel? How fast?”

Goosebumps spread all over your body, your skin tingling with anticipation. You heard the bedsheets ruffling. He had moved off the mattress, now crouched in front of you, but you didn’t dare to open your eyes.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about it too.” His voice was a low murmur now. “I can’t stop.”

He watched your eyes screw shut even tighter as he got closer. You looked like you were hurting, and he almost gave in, with heavy emphasis on the ‘almost’. Instead, he ghosted a finger across your collarbone. “I think about kissing you here.” He trailed up your neck. “Here.”

You could feel the air flexing between your lips and his finger, and you shivered. “And here.”

Your eyes slowly peeled open to see his face in front of yours. His dark eyes flickered between your own, peering deep into your soul which was entwined with him. He was already inside you without even touching you; he was inside your mind and under your skin. Your body was his and his body was yours. You loved him so intensely that whenever he fucked you, you forgot you were two different people instead of one.

To Hell with the challenge. To Hell with losing. He was your Heaven, and such torturous deterrents wouldn’t keep you away from the rapture he gave.

In a single move, you leaned forward and crashed your lips to his. Your body curved into him and he caught you with both arms, holding you upright against him. There was a split second before Bellamy responded as realised you finally gave in which meant he could too, and his lips began moving against yours. Just like the first kiss you shared on Eligius IV after waking up, this one was hungry, but that word sounded inadequate compared to what it really was. ‘Ravenous’ was more accurate.

You moaned into his mouth, your body feeling like it was coming alive.

His movements were intoxicating and so were the small sounds he made when he tried to fill his lungs with air. There was a rumbling in his chest, and he sounded almost primal. He brought a hand to the side of your head, fingers buried beneath your hair as he deepened the kiss, merging your lips with his.

Your bodies rocked backwards and forwards, your cuffed hands pressed against his chest meanwhile his were around your back and the other was in your hair. Bellamy’s hand moved to squeeze your waist and your mouth opened, giving him the opportunity to slip his tongue inside and meet your own.

He rolled his tongue over yours during one kiss, and the next, yours had asserted dominance. You swirled around him, tasting him, mixing with him. During the time you took to explore the inside of his mouth, the floor beneath you had disappeared and was replaced with his arms. Your back was against the wall and if he wanted to, he could have dropped you at his feet; you had no way of holding on except for your legs which were wrapped around his hips.

You returned the power to him for a few seconds only to then lightly bite down on his bottom lip. He let out a quiet groan and slowly drew back to press his forehead to yours. For a while, you both stayed like this, breathing in each other’s breaths with your eyes closed.

Everything around you began to spin, and your head felt euphoric as you used his air as your own. The sensation spread through your body, it coursed through your veins and you needed to move, to feel it come to life. Your hips bucked forward but he was quick to push back, pinning you against the wall with a small grunt. His erection pressed between your legs, but he didn’t move. Eyes snapping open, you sent him a pleading look. How much longer was he going to make you wait? You tried to move your cuffed hands between your bodies, but he held them to his chest with one hand.

You wiggled against him, but it was futile.

“Bell,” you almost sobbed. “Bellamy, please.”

He lifted a finger beneath your chin, watching your reddened lips whisper the word ‘please’. He watched your eyes water, tears threatening to spill over the edge. You begged him over and over, and he allowed you to. He let you humiliate yourself in the hopes that he would give you what you wanted. You had completely fallen apart, and now he was going to piece you back together.

“What do you want?” His thumb brushed across your lips.

“Just touch me,” you pleaded.

A few more moments passed of you both just staring at each other, and then it was like something finally snapped in his eyes. He set you down on your feet. At first, you thought he was going to sit back on the bed, and you nearly choked out an objection. That isn’t what happened.

Instead, he pressed another tender kiss to your lips, then to your jaw, your neck, and down your clothed chest. His hands moved down either side of your body as he sunk to his knees in front of you and trailed kisses across your exposed stomach.

Your breaths started coming out in shorter, shallower intervals as he moved further down.

His hands squeezed your hips as he kissed the skin below your navel, causing your eyes to nearly roll back then and there. Finally, he made it to just above the waistband of your underwear. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly now. So close. His hands moved onto your thighs and he leaned in, briefly pressing his warm lips to your thinly covered heat. A jolt of pleasure moved up your body and you gasped. You could feel it—him.

He glanced up at your impatient expression before pulling the underwear down your legs, lifting each foot until it was completely discarded. He eyed the soaking mess that you already were and licked his bottom lip. This was all because of him. His eyes found yours once more, this time wordlessly asking for access despite your obvious enthusiasm.

All you managed to get out was a frantic, “Please”.

And when his mouth finally found your clit, a tear fell from your eye.

Your bound hands fell on top of his head, tugging at the soft waves as his tongue delved between your folds and flicked across your clit. His warm hands moved to the backs of your thighs, burying his face even deeper, exploring you even further. He moved down to your opening, spreading his tongue flat against it and dragging up to collect the mess that you were already becoming. Once he had returned to your clit, his mouth suctioned, sucking with pressure that caused you to let out a cry.

It wasn’t long before you felt the ghost of your orgasm begin to slowly step into the white light. The muscles in your stomach were tensing and rubbing together, preparing for a release that they were guaranteed to have.

Your back arched off the wall as you felt Bellamy’s teeth softly graze against the most sensitive part of your clit. He circled the surrounding area, the nerves beneath your skin setting alight with pleasure under his tongue, burning you from the inside out. When he mumbled something against you, you could feel the vibrations of his voice bury itself deep inside you, and you couldn’t hold back the filthy moan that had been begging to escape.

He pulled back an inch, your hips unconsciously following him as he said, “You lose.”

His mouth returned to your heat, focusing his attention on your throbbing clit, switching between flicking it with his tongue and sucking it into his mouth.

“No,” you managed to breathe out. There was no way something like this could be called ‘losing’. You were the one who got to feel Bellamy’s mouth between your thighs, bringing you to an extreme state of ecstasy. You were the one who had him on his knees before you. “I win.”

He groaned at the sound of your voice and you felt the pleasure move up another level. Your legs buckled beneath you as you tried to grind on his tongue. He took that as a hint to haul one of your legs over his broad shoulder. Now you were another level higher. Your hips bucked against him, feeling almost like you were vibrating as he continued his movements.

Just when you thought the sensation couldn’t get any better, you felt his thick finger suddenly slide deep into your opening and curl. Another tear ran down your cheek and you gripped onto his hair as your head fell back against the wall. You couldn’t even moan; there was only a chorus of strangled noises leaving your throat. He pushed upwards into the soft fleshy wall inside you over and over at a fast and steady pace, and suddenly, you were on the edge of pure bliss, ready to dive into the consuming waters.

His mouth sucked on your clit, tongue circling its peak, meanwhile, he added another finger to pump inside of you.

“Fuck, Bellamy!” Your voice had risen an octave, all breathy and needy.

Like a heartbeat, you could feel yourself throbbing, pleasure building more intensely with each pulse. The muscles in your stomach were so tight it felt like they were being burned with a white-hot flame. Your insides were twisting and coiling and with every curl of his fingers, the feeling only intensified.

Bellamy glanced up at you from below, your eyes meeting in a short exchange.

It all happened so fast.

“I’m–” Before you could finish your sentence, you were shot back up into space, seeing stars.

Your legs tensed up, heel digging into his back as your body began to shake. The coil inside your stomach unravelled, exiting through your opening but not before aggressively rubbing at your insides on the way out. For a moment, you forgot where you were. All you knew was the release, the buzzing in your ears and the way your vision swayed through half-lidded eyes.

Bellamy’s name flowed past your lips like a mantra. He didn’t stop; he kept pumping, kept sucking, prolonging the sensation for as long as he could. Everything was pulsing—the air, his fingers, your pussy. Everything. You would’ve thought you had ascended to a higher dimension if it weren’t for the man beneath you.

You felt his mouth disconnect from your body, fingers still moving inside, although, his pace was beginning to slow and so was your orgasm. The feeling was fading away, leaving you with an overwhelming feeling of weakness in the lower half of your body. Bellamy could feel your legs shaking, so he slid his fingers out. You couldn’t hold yourself up anymore and the next thing you knew, your legs buckled, and you were collapsing to the ground

Bellamy caught you in his arms, pulling you into his lap. He watched your thighs tremble as aftershocks washed over you, creamy liquid dripping down your skin. Your furrowed brows, half-closed eyes, and parted lips were a sight to see; he’d never witnessed anything more beautiful in his life.

You peered up at him through your lashes, cuffed hands resting on your stomach, and you smiled. Then you laughed, and then he was laughing too. His chest vibrated against your skin. Your hands reached up to push back a strand of his hair from his face and suddenly you were kissing again.

He placed a hand on your back and guided you until you were sitting sideways on his lap. Your taste was on his tongue and you loved it. You felt it seep into your own tastebuds as you rewound back to when you came on his fingers. You used his chest as support to help swing your legs on either side of his folded thighs so that you were now facing him.

His hands ran down your sides, stopping at the hem of your shirt before pulling it up over your head, exposing your naked breasts to the warm air. Bras were impractical when you were Bellamy Blake’s girlfriend; he’d always find some way of removing them anyway. Hell, you wouldn’t have been surprised if he had burned all the ones you used to wear.

He lowered his head to your chest, hair tickling your neck as he began making it his mission to cover your breasts in bruises that marked you as his. Despite feeling like your ability to walk was eradicated, you could feel yourself craving more of him, more of his sex. As previously disclaimed, sometimes fatigue didn’t stop you two from going multiple rounds and this time wasn’t an exception.

If only your hands weren’t bound. You wanted to touch him the way he did you. You wanted him to feel the world disappear and be replaced with a mind-numbing sense of sinful pleasure. You wanted to give that to him, but you couldn’t. Your hands were cuffed, and he had the key.

“Uncuff me, Blake,” you whispered.

His head lifted from your breasts, reluctant eyes meeting your own. “Why should I?”

You rolled your eyes at his stubbornness and turned your head away from him, but he was quick to pull you back with two fingers on the side of your jaw.

“You still lost, remember?” he added.

As if you didn’t already know that. “That was not my definition of losing.”

It was his turn to roll his eyes and even though you were supposed to be in a minor disagreement, you couldn’t help but think about how fucking sexy he looked. You leaned forward, lips ghosting over his. “Uncuff me, Blake.”

His jaw clenched and he leaned in, but you quickly pulled away. His eyes narrowed at you and the smirk you were biting back. He had played the ‘humiliation game’ with you and now it was time for payback. Bellamy may have been the one with the keys, but it was you who now had the control.

“C’mon, we both know you’ll give in before me,” he said, arrogantly.

Always count on Bellamy to be egotistical, even in bed. Well, ‘on the floor’ would be more accurate.

“Is that so?”

“It is.”

You hummed, placing your restrained hands on his chest and slowly grazing them down his torso. When you reached his stomach, you made sure to slow down and drag your nails across his skin.

He inhaled sharply when your nails scratched the area above his pants’ waistband. “Very conceited for a boy who can’t even handle being touched.”

His chuckle came out as a harsh exhale. “‘Boy’?”

“A man would take these chains off me.”

“You think taunting me will get me to break?”

Provoking words wasn’t what was going to break him; you knew that. It was underestimation that was going to be his fall. When it came down to it, men were very simple creatures. They chased after pleasure like it was the one thing that kept them alive, and you knew each and every weakness this man had. He thought just because he won the game, he also won the war. Well, guess again. You were going to knock him right off his high horse.

Your fingers dipped into his waistband. His hand quickly clamped over one of your wrists, pulling it away from his pants. Not that it mattered; you didn’t need your hands. He held your hands in the space between your bodies, his chest rising a little more irregularly than before.

You leaned forward, tantalisingly slow. This time he made sure not to move a muscle, allowing you to do exactly what you wanted. Your mouth hovered in front of his and you could feel his warm breath fan across your lips. Softly, almost as if the moment had become sugary and sweet, you pressed a kiss to his lips, a tender closed-mouth moan buzzing in your throat upon contact. He responded with the same energy.

And then the mood abruptly shifted as you glided your tongue across his bottom lip.

You could feel his cock twitch beneath you, and you knew you were headed in the right direction. Grinding down on his lap, you managed to slip your tongue into his mouth as he grunted. One weakness down; four to go. Your tongue swirled around his with each open-mouth kiss, and he had no choice—you both knew he was having the time of his life—but to reciprocate since he had already given up that area of defence.

Your hips continued to rock back and forth across his lap, occasionally applying a bit more pressure in the hopes he would be triggered to move. He wasn’t. Yet. So, you left his lips and moved down to his neck, sucking and nipping at the skin. His head tilted to the side with a sigh, allowing you easier access. This spot was not your main target, though. Your kisses trailed up to his jaw, running along the sides and the curve of his jawline before dipping just beneath the area where his jaw and neck connected. That was one of his weak spots.

His next exhale was shaky, paired with the quietest of groans. Two down. Then you moved on to the next target: just below his ear. Your tongue grazed the area before you left your mark by sucking on his soft skin. He was louder this time and your confidence soared higher. Three; two to go.

He had let go of your wrists now, resting his hands on the curves of your hips with his eyes closed. So much for the whole my-willpower-is-stronger-than-yours dispute. You watched his face as you dragged yourself back and forth over his erection. His eyes screwed shut, brows pulling together, and his fingers pressing hard into the soft plush of your hips.

Come on. Come on, you thought.

“Let go, Bell,” you purred into his ear. Your entire body weight shifted onto his lap and you almost revealed the same weakness you were trying to pull from him. He was so incredibly hard now that it probably wasn’t even healthy. He would have to unchain you soon. And just to pour gasoline on an already roaring fire, you added, “I want to feel you inside me.”

That was it. He couldn’t deny himself the heaven you were giving anymore. His hips bucked up into you, creating a pseudo-sensation of sliding between your folds—an action that erupted a full-fledged moan from his lips, causing your inner walls to flutter and your stomach to drop.

Weak point four—check.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath before suddenly snatching the knife from the holster on his belt and splitting the leather cuffs around your wrists.

And five. Check yes Juliet.

Wow. he couldn’t even manage to grab the keys.

Your hands were free at last, and you wasted no time in using them. They rushed down to unbuckle his belt and tossed it on the floor with a clink. Before you could continue any further, Bellamy rolled you over so that you were now lying caged beneath him. His lips came down on yours in a flurry of passion.

Now that you had full-body autonomy, you couldn’t help but explore every inch of him that you were once denied of touching. Your fingertips ran over his back, over the ridges of his shoulder blades, and around his large biceps. You wove your fingers into the roots of his hair and tugged just because you could.

He reached under the curve on your back, pulling your body up into his, your pelvis’ meeting in a rough collision. He was a mess of grunts and groans and you were quickly inhaling more air than you needed.

You moved a hand to his cheek to deepen the kiss as your touch explored his body further, slipping between your bodies and settling on unbuttoning his pants. Unzipping his flier with one-handed skill, your warm, soft hand slipped into his boxers, finally coming into contact with his hard cock.

His head fell to your chest with a broken moan.

Your fingers curled around him, beginning to stroke up and down his length. Bellamy had taken many of your firsts, including your first time so you had no one to compare him to. However, you were well aware that he was bigger than average. Even if he hadn’t been, you were certain he would satisfy you the same; he was just that good.

He managed to lift his head back up and return to your lips as your arm pumped up and down. His hips lurched forward as your grip increased. All he could think about was how good you were going to feel when it was your heat that was engulfing him, how wet and warm you always were.

Your hand reached the head of his cock, thumb rubbing circles over his tip as you felt drops of precum coat your fingertip. He was usually able to last a long time, just like you, but this was different. Everything inside him was built up for a century, and it would not take much until he was coming in your hand. You wanted him to reach that point as soon as possible.

You left pecks trailing from his mouth, across his cheek, and to the side of his jaw. The bone of his jaw fell victim to your grazing tongue as your pace increased along with the pressure of your grip. He was breathing heavily now, every second breath mixed with a low, breathy moan or grunt. You were throbbing just listening to the sounds he made.

A few curses left his mouth, revealing how close he was—that and the way his cock was practically pulsating in your hand. You twisted your hand with each stroke, effortlessly gliding your palm down his large veiny length. Your thumb grazed over the sensitive band of skin beneath the head of his cock, and his entire body flinched.

He was almost over the edge; all you had to do was give him a little push. Wanting to see his face one last time before you did, you leaned back, cradling his jaw in one hand whilst the other continued below. His eyes were shut, inner brows pulled upwards in a painfully blissful expression and strands of dishevelled dark hair had fallen across his forehead. God, he was gorgeous. What you wouldn’t give to…

No. You had your pleasure; now it was his turn. With each jerk and twist of your hand, your fingers ran over his tip then moved back down to lightly squeeze and repeat. You pressed one last peck to his lips before travelling to that spot below his ear, running your tongue over the skin and then sucked.

His cock twitched in your hand, stomach tensing against your forearm before he finally let go. He let out a loud guttural moan of your name, almost a cry, as he released onto both your hand and the inside of his pants. His head fell forward into the space between your neck and shoulder, groaning into your heated skin which sent vibrations down to your breast.

He remained in that spot for a few moments as you continued to slowly pump him up and down whilst pressing kisses to his shoulder. As he attempted to get his breath back, you removed your hand from his pants and moved both onto his back, lightly dragging your nails over his skin.

Now you were both even, but it was clear this was far from over.

Warm pants fanned across your face after he recovered enough to hover over your body. You were about to tease him for coming quicker than you did, but his tongue was suddenly in your mouth, rolling around your own. And then you felt it—he was already hard again.

That’s a lot of stamina for a hundred-and-fifty-one-year-old man.

He left your lips again and rose to his knees. His carnally intense eyes never left yours as he pulled both his pants and boxers down to his lower thighs. You watched as his cock sprang from his boxers and bounced off his toned stomach. Still looking good for a hundred-and-fifty-one-year-old man too. Extremely good. Like, actually drool-worthy good.

And it seemed he was thinking the very same thing.

“You’re so beautiful,” he spoke, almost like he couldn’t believe the fact himself before he descended back down to you, mouth hot on yours.

His hands were on the floor on either side of your shoulders, essentially trapping you beneath him. You loved how small he made you feel compared to him; almost like he could hold you in the palm of his hand like a little china doll. The treatment he gave you was also like that of a china doll—such a delicate and treasured touch. Though, there were times when he would practically throw you around like a rag doll, mostly when you were both deep in an intense fuck session.

The length of his cock glided over your stomach as he moved his body into each kiss. It was so close to where you needed it, yet still so far. Your legs curled around his hips in an attempt to guide him to your entrance, but he showed slight resistance. His tip was just pushing through your folds, sliding across with each movement he made. It was torture.

You pulled back from his lips, hands almost clawing at the sides of his chest. “Please, Bell, just–”

A gasp escaped you both as Bellamy finally pushed inside you in one fluid movement, his hips almost meeting yours as he filled you as much as your previously abstinent body allowed. Your walls welcomed him and the long-awaited feeling of his cock brushing against that back-arching spot deep within you. He hadn’t even moved yet, but your eyes were fluttering, and your throat was already tightening as you struggled to let out a moan.

Neither of you could do anything but struggle to keep your composure, waiting for the overwhelming heat of pleasure to subdue just the tiniest bit so your bodies could start moving without the world crashing down around you. After moments of stillness passed, Bellamy finally began to move, his pace slow but so, so deep. His gaze was intense as he found his rhythm, sliding almost completely out and then pushing himself back inside you. Fuck, the way your warmth consumed him was hypnotic.

It was kind of like the first time you had slept together those many years ago, minus the nearly unbearable pain when he first entered you, of course. It was intense yet still so full of adoration.

Your body soon grew accustomed to the feeling of his cock stretching you open, making room for him to bury even deeper, to feel your walls completely swallow him whole. That is when his pace started to increase. Your arms hooked around his biceps, bringing him closer as he continued his thrusts.

Not long passed before his hips were snapping against yours; he wasn’t just sliding in and out of you anymore—he was fucking you, pounding into you. Each time he buried himself deep, the area above his cock ground against your clit, stimulating you from the inside and out, so much that it was impossible to hold back a moan.

He moved a strand of hair away from your face, nodding his head as if to praise your vocalisation. The sight of him praising you for simply enjoying yourself as he fucked you was something that turned you on beyond belief. Not that you needed any more turning on at that point, but still, the reaction stood firm.

You wanted him deeper, in any way that was still physically possible.

And then, a sudden, lust-bound thought entered your mind and before you could even ponder it, you had used all your strength to roll yourself on top of his body. Now, his hands were on your hips, head thrown back on the floor and mouth hung open as you rode his cock.

“Oh, fuck!” Bellamy groaned.

Your hands were on his thighs as to hold up your half-reclined position and you were bouncing up and down, rolling your hips so you could feel him everywhere inside you.

A shudder ran down your body, peaking the nipples of your bouncing breasts. You swore you could almost feel him in your stomach. You shifted your body weight into your arms and pushed yourself upwards, sliding his cock nearly all the way out, circling your entrance around his tip before sinking back down to his base.

The both of you let out a synced noise of satisfaction.

His eyes followed each roll of your breasts in a trance, and then he cupped one in his hand, circling his thumb around your sensitive nipple. You gave Bellamy a smile, one that was so sweet and unintentionally seductive. He let out a half chuckle, half groan.

Your legs began to burn, a reminder of the experience you had with Bellamy’s tongue just before this. The way your clit was slapping against his pelvis each time you dropped mimicked the way his tongue had previously flicked and rolled around it. Your pace was beginning to slow, and your rhythm faltered, but you didn’t want the sensation to stop. Instead, you let yourself sink fully down on his cock, and your eyes rolled back. Ok, now he had to be in your stomach because there was no other explanation for the deepness you felt.

He was permanently in that spot that had blood rushing to your head, and with your hips rocking back and forth the way they were, your gut was throbbing with a build-up of ecstasy.

“I–” you panted. “I can’t hold myself up much longer.”

You squeezed his thighs, surely leaving behind red marks as you tried to push yourself up and down a few more times, pleasure and pain fuelling each of your repetitions. It was no use; your arms were trembling, and muscles were burning.

Bellamy was quick to your aid. “I’ve got you, princess, don’t worry.”

His hands moved to your back, pulling you forward, and colliding your breasts into his chest. Next thing you knew, he was pounding hard up into your pussy, his movements so fast you couldn’t even count the number of thrusts he made every five seconds, but it felt so good. So good that you almost screamed.

Your clit was throbbing, inner walls clenching around his unrelenting cock. You were hot, your body slick with sweat, but it wasn’t just that; there was also a fire pooling at the bottom of your abdomen, spreading through your muscles, through every fibre of your being and you didn’t want it to stop.

Bellamy’s arms were wrapped around your waist, rendering you immobile to each of his insatiable thrusts but it made you feel all the more incredible. He was hitting that soft, fleshy spot inside you over and over again, and you felt like you were going to burst. Your stomach was fluttering, his cock was pulsing inside you, and you were a mess of whines and moans.

“You feel–” he couldn’t even speak without releasing a rough moan. His arms tightened around you, mouth moving against your shoulder to say, “Feel so good.”

You couldn’t help but cry out at his words; he sounded so drunk on pleasure.

He began pressing rough kisses to your neck and the noises leaving your throat were utterly impure. His knees bent inwards, allowing him to thrust even faster into you. You were both overcome with desire, hellbent on chasing your release that was taunting you from the shadows. Bellamy seemed almost animalistic, sucking and biting at the skin of your neck whilst pounding into you from below.

Like always, he had made it so that you didn’t have to lift a finger, and he liked it that way. He was making you feel like you had slipped into heaven, and only he could do that. One of his many sources of joy was that your body only knew his cock, and it would forever only know his because that was how long he planned to love you.

You placed a hand on the floor beside his head, hovering your face above his. His eyes were quick to find yours as you gazed down at him.

In between each of his thrusts, you breathed out, “I–love–you.”

He looked so flustered, so puffed out. He was unable to repeat the words back without them sounding like a laboured breath of air so instead, he jerked forward and latched his mouth on the bone of your jaw, turning your skin red and purple.

Your head turned to the side to give him easier access only to unexpectedly come face-to-face with yourself being absolutely destroyed in the mirror’s reflection.

Well… It sure wasn’t a vanity problem these people had, you knew that now.

“Bellamy, look,” you gasped.

His entire body stilled at the sound of your voice and he eyed you with a worried expression. “Did I do something?”

“No,” you tilted his head with your hand so that he was looking at the mirror too. “I just…”

He didn’t need to hear more; Bellamy knew exactly what you wanted—to watch. Watch as his cock plunged in and out of your pussy, watch it curve into your entrance, watch your body bounce on top of his with each thrust. Damn, he’d wished either of you had noticed the mirror before so he could have watched you ride him from two point-of-views.

His gaze returned to you. “Hop off.” You were about to protest, but he beat you to it by clamping a large hand over your mouth. “Trust me.”

You gave him a puzzled, hesitant look but eventually submitted to his command, sliding off him and onto the hard marble floor. His body had left yours entirely, leaving you feeling cold and empty, inside and out.

It wasn’t long before he positioned himself to face the mirror, kneeling in front of it. He curled an arm around your waist and slid you across the floor towards him. Like a rag doll. He pulled you backwards onto his lap so that your back was almost against his chest and your thighs were spread open on either side of his.

“Lean back,” he said, and you did.

Your back was flush against him, and you could feel his racing heart reverberating in your ribcage. His arms wrapped around the space beneath your breasts and he pulled you upwards, supporting your weight, knowing you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself up.

“Ready?” he whispered into your ear as you watched him in the reflection.

You nodded, reaching around to rest a hand on the side of his neck.

He kissed your cheek and your eyes closed at the sweet act of affection. One of his hands moved beneath you as he guided himself to your entrance, his tip pushing against your wet folds. Bellamy watched over your shoulder, his eyes focusing on the way his cock teased opening.

He finally slid inside, and you instantly fell further against him. Muscles were very handy in this kind of situation. You were captivated—his length disappeared into your body and then returned almost to the tip, covered in a thin layer of both your juices. His movements continued over and over, but you never found yourself bored or wanting to look away. Neither did he.

Your lips parted with a moan when he abruptly took one hard thrust up into you. You looked up at your reflection, seeing the expression on your face, seeing your dishevelled hair… your bouncing breasts. Not that you would say it aloud, but you looked sexy. For a split second, you found yourself finally understanding the attraction Bellamy had to you, and then your mind was torn apart once again.

His speed increased and he was hitting your insides harder and harder with each passing second. You saw your thighs slightly jiggling and weren’t insecure or afraid of Bellamy noticing, but instead found yourself feeling even more turned on.

The room was full of sex—the sounds were wet and harsh, the smell of your pheromones clung to the wall, and the visuals were etched into the mirror in front of your bodies. It was beautiful.

You moved your gaze up to Bellamy’s eyes, seeing him just as captivated as you were, alternating between watching himself slip in and out of your pussy and watching your breasts recoil from each bounce. He then met your gaze, talking to you through unspoken communication. Though you were unsure of the specifics, you were certain he was telling you how much he loved you, how beautiful you looked with his cock inside you, how no one else could ever compare.

His tip repeatedly curved into your G-spot, the rest of his length rubbing against your walls, causing the flames in your stomach to start rising. Bellamy could see the fire in your eyes, and he was ready to turn it into a blazing inferno. He shifted his hold on you into one arm, reaching around your body with the other. His fingers found your clit, instantly applying pressure as he rubbed fast circles around it. That was the gasoline.

Your orgasm was no longer creeping up inside you, but rather rocketing to the surface. You were pulsing around Bellamy’s cock, driving him even closer to his own high. His hips were slapping the skin of your ass as they kept snapping upwards. His abs were more defined as the muscles in his stomach tensed up, trying to keep you upright whilst fucking into you and controlling the orgasm that was threatening to release. You always came before him. Always.

His fingers pressed harder into you, moving side-to-side. Your G-spot was being hit without mercy, only intensifying the pleasure you felt as he rubbed your clit. You alternated between holding your breath and letting out shallow, laboured breaths, signalling how close you were.

You could feel it, Bellamy could feel it—you were pretty sure everyone outside could feel it too, feel the powerful energy leaking from the house you were in. That is what it felt like. Powerful. And now it was about to take over your entire body.

“Bell, I’m gonna–”

“I know,” he panted. “Me too.”

Your hand fell over his, pushing down on it, applying more force even though you weren’t sure he could even press any harder. His hand was almost blurring in the mirror, and his cock was pounding. He was breathing so heavily against your back and into your ear that it sounded like he couldn’t even control the grunts and moans leaving his mouth anymore.

He circled your clit a few more times before your hand moved further down to the place you both connected. Your fingers found the area between his cock and your pussy, feeling him slide over your fingertips as he moved in and out. That was what sent you over the edge.

The blaze in your stomach exploded, sending sparks throughout your body. Your moans were uncontrollable, rebounding off every corner of the room. Your ears were buzzing with overwhelming silence, your vision partially blacked out and you felt so, so good. Tears were streaming down your cheeks, but you hardly noticed, unable to think about anything except Bellamy’s cock. You had ascended to a higher dimension and he was right there with you, endlessly pounding up into you, prolonging your mind-numbing high.

Feeling your walls clenching around him was all it took for Bellamy to fill you up with his come. His cock twitched, and the warm liquid came rushing out in spurts, coating your insides with white—with him. The thick warmth of your mixed juices leaked from your opening and dripped down his length. Your inner thighs were drenched.

His thrusts were sloppy and rough, desperate to keep the feeling coursing through his body as long as possible. The sounds he made were so guttural and raw that you weren’t sure if they made you come again or if they just prolonged the orgasm you were already having.

Somehow, in the midst of both your highs, you had ended up on the floor, partially laying on each other whilst frantically gulping down air.

You couldn’t move. One of your legs was tangled between his, and one arm was thrown across his chest. Your breasts were pressed against the hard ground, head turned to the side facing Bellamy. Everything was shaking, or maybe it was just your entire body uncontrollably quivering. Even your pussy was still clenching, causing you to flinch with each fraction of a movement it made.

Bellamy had a forearm over his eyes, panting heavily; his other arm was still wrapped around your waist.

The both of you just lay there for a few minutes, not talking, not moving, just recovering. Eventually, Bellamy gained back enough strength to speak.

“We didn’t even make it to the bed,” he chuckled.

You then realised you were both literally lying naked on a stranger’s bedroom floor and laughed. “We would’ve ruined the sheets anyway.”

“Probably,” he sighed, contently. He pulled you further onto his chest, bringing your face to nuzzle into his neck. He pressed a kiss into your hair. “I love you too, princess.”

You smiled into his skin, remembering the declaration you previously made. Tilting your head up and resting your chin on his chest, you stared up at him, eyes full of reverence. He peered down at you with a grin, and then his lips were on yours again, soft and slow; so tender that you–

“Oh, come on!”

You both pulled apart at the sudden new voice. In the doorway stood a very irritated Murphy. He seemed too shocked—more like too horrified—to even look away.

Bellamy ripped a blanket from the edge of the mattress and pulled it over your body. “Murphy, I swear to god I’m gonna kill you! Get out!”

“Oh my god!” he shouted in response. “I can’t catch a fucking break around here!”

His voice echoed down the staircase as he fled the building. Someone probably needed to find him a shrink after the number of times he had walked in on you both. He had made it back outside, returning to the rest of the group, though not far enough away for you to miss his very loud complaints.

“Where are the damn carnivorous bugs when you need them?!”

“What’s wrong?” you heard someone ask him.

“What’s wrong? They’re fucking animals, that’s what’s wrong!”

You turned back to face Bellamy, grinning in a daze. “I’ll say.”

Bellamy smirked, humming in agreement as he rolled back on top of you.

It was hard to say how many more rounds you went. The only time you stopped was when your bodies were screaming for a break, and during that time, all you could think was thank god for contraceptive implants.

[zukkaart]

A brief summary of the most popular A:tLA ships

Kataang: the definition of a power couple

Sokkla: The mental image alone is lethal, unironically the sexiest ship

Zukka: grumpy x sunshine trope at its finest

Mailee: black cat x golden retriever (yes there’s a difference)

Azulaang: pure unfiltered comedic potential

Sukka: walk him like a dog sis walk him like a dog

Jetko: which one will end up dead? Tune in next week to find out

Zutara: enemies to lovers with so much angst you need to just have your emotional support snack in hand

Tyzula: me and the bad bitch I pulled by being mentally ill

Taang: one is a pacifist and the other is entirely unhinged- the world would burn

Maiko: that relationship you have in middle school with your “best friend” before you realize you’re both gay

Yukka: the single most heartbreaking ship in existence

Azutara: two chronically jealous and lethal women? no one would leave that wedding alive

Yueki: they never met but this is somehow entirely plausible

Yuetara: princess x savior trope but in the cute way not the toxic way

[gaiathemexicanbeauty]

one finds the other crying

(bingo challenge prompt #3 :D)

pairing: sanji x reader word count: 756 warnings: angst to comfort, sanji but epic, LOTS OF COMFORT

don't ask me what arc this takes place during, just know its pre time skip

sanji steps onto the going merry with grocery bags in his arms and a cigarette hanging in between his lips, sighing softly and small tendrils of smoke slipping from between them. he'd been out all day wandering the city they'd docked in, making sure to find any new ingredients unique to the area; the crew was never hesitant to try new dishes from their cook even if he brought produce that sometimes had names only he could pronounce. the ship is quiet, everyone seems to be out doing their own thing if the lack of napping crew meant anything. sanji smiles cotentedly: no one to disturb him for his dinner prep just the way he liked it. he makes his way to the kitchen as he hums a small tune to himself, already mentally mapping the meals and side dishes and- and you.

he's about to call your name, a smile already etching onto his face. he never really got the chance to spend some alone time with you considering how nosy the crew (luffy and usopp) were. your back is turned to him and he considers sneaking up on you, a mischievous smile on his face before he hears a sniffle from you. he stops in his tracks instantly, groceries bags crinkling in his arms and making him freeze in place; now he's done it. he's not sure what to expect, but it wasn't this. you jump in the chair you're sitting in, looking over at sanji with wide eyes. your eyes are rimmed a swollen red and glossy, tear streaks down your cheeks. he doesn't seem to have any words, staring at you just the same way you stare at him with bated breath; what happened to you?

"i'm fine-" "are you-" the two of you stop talking, the silence thick between the two of you. sanji isn't proud enough to let it stay. before you can begin to excuse yourself, he's already walked over to you and effectively stopped you from getting up. you look up at him, your cheeks flushing before he outstretches his hand to you. "you don't have to talk about it, but i don't expect you to grovel on your own. let me help you. please." sanji says smoothly, his tone steady but the look in his eyes showing that he won't take no for an answer. you look at his outstretched hand before taking it with a shaky exhale, earning a subtle smile from sanji.

wordlessly, he leads you away from the table and to the stove; you don't need much instruction to realize he's helping you make tea. you aren't lost to the way sanji's hand will graze yours for a moment too long, rub a circle into your back or brush some hair away from your face. for once, you don't swat him away or giggle at him, you let him. his touch soothes you in ways you couldn't even believe, trying not to lean into his touch when you're bringing the teapot over to the table and he touches your arm so softly you could cry again. when the two of you are finally at the table, he sidles up to you with a soft hum, just close enough that his arm touches yours. there's a comfortable silence between the two of you as you blow and sip at your tea, feeling any and all sense of frustration washing away.

"i don't know what's got you down and i'm not gonna make you tell me. but don't try to tough it out on your own. what'd you think, this crew's just here to keep you company?" you look over at sanji who takes a drag of his cigarette away from you, your cheeks warming and a smile forming on your face; "don't go crying on me again, alright? you'll ruin that pretty face of yours." he says with a hum, cigarette hanging between his lips again when he turns to look at you again. before he can say anything more, you lean over and leave a small kiss on his cheek, giggling at the way he goes stiff. he blinks at you before the red rises from his neck to his face almost cartoonishly, his lips parting in shock as you get up and head for the doorway. "thank you, sanji." as soon as you are out of ear shot and away from the kitchen, sanji rises out of his seat and pumps his fists in the air, even doing a little dance of celebration.

◦°˚\(*❛‿❛)/˚°◦

im not gonna lie to yall, i didn't really know how to end this but you KNOW i had to bring in that sanji charm LOLL

PSSTT here's the link to the bingo masterlist to find all the prompts in one spot ;3

next prompt:

accidentally walking in on other character

[turtletaubwrites]

Numbers Game ~ Chapter 33

Keep Me Warm

Pairings: Cross Guild Polycule x Shanks x Fem!Reader x ???

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 10,625

Ao3 Link

Ongoing Series Playlist: Youtube Music Link | Youtube Link

Chapter Tunes: Tainted Love ~ Holy Wars | Hatef--k ~ The Bravery

Summary: You're finding ways to cope, Shanks is finding ways to win, and the truth is finding its way out.

Recap: Emperor Shanks won the first hunt, and the first private date. The Cross Guild learned how you feel about about your red haired suitor, and the swordsman declared his plan to leave.

Author's Note: Hi friends! Just want to say that sharing this story with you means so much to me. I wish I had some Cross Guild backup in my life right now, but having y'all reading my obsession makes me so grateful! I'm trying to get back to interacting, I'm just having a hard time doing anything that's not writing this right now, but all of your words make me so happy, thank you!! 💜🙏🏼✨

Dark Content Warning: It's not the reader, but within this chapter there are references to suicide through engaging in dangerous and destructive behavior. The violent activities are mentioned within canon, but the emotional motivations are added. The situation ends well, but I'll bracket those sections with ~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~ in case that topic is triggering. Please, take care of yourselves, and know that you are not alone! 💜

Alternate POV Symbols:

🌲 ~ Reader | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | ⏰ ~ Flashbacks for listed POV | ⚫ ~ Scenes depicting Dark Content as listed in Author's Notes

!!! SPOILER WARNING !!! Fic currently contains spoilers for the end of the Wano arc. As we get further into Egghead Arc where our lovely boys are showing up more, there will be more spoilers as time goes on. Sorry y'all, I'm trying to keep most spoilers small details, but Cross Guild is endgame, lol.

Rating/Warnings: Author May Choose to Exclude some Warnings to Avoid Spoilers for Certain Chapters, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Use of Y/N, Dark Content, Blood & Violence, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Dissociation, Mental Illness, Grief, Toxic Family, Swearing, Alcohol, Cigars, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Guilt, Drama, Jealousy, Manipulation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Pain Kink, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Hate Sex, Rough Sex, Relationship Drama, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Shameless Shameless Smut, Uncle Cedrick Has Become His Own Warning, Splinters, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

“That’s one creepy ass boat.”

“Excuse me?”

Mihawk couldn’t be annoyed with his clown when that observation had their much taller lover nearly buckling beside him. Those large fingers dug into his shoulder while Crocodile laughed at his expense, his voice even rougher than usual at the early hour.

“Hitsugibune is a fine ship, and has carried me across the Grand Line for years,” Mihawk countered. 

Crocodile took the luggage from his hands to toss onto the one-man vessel. 

“It does have a certain flare,” Crocodile hummed, leaving a quick kiss to his temple. 

“It’s just your aesthetic, though, right,” Buggy shook as he prowled closer. “It’s not a real coffin?”

“Not yet,” Mihawk teased. It earned him an adorable frown that made him laugh, and the movement reminded him of all the delightful things they’d done to him last night. 

“Sure you’re gonna be alright all cooped up in your coffin so soon,” Buggy taunted with a few prods and pokes along the swordsman’s healing chest. 

Moans left those cruel lips, and he tried to back away, but ran into a wall made of muscle and heat, and wrapped in a purple, velvet smoking jacket.

“Promise you’ll be a good boy for me?”

Mihawk almost buckled then, loving the satisfied noise Crocodile made when he reacted to him. The three lovers kissed goodbye, until he was alone again. 

The World’s Greatest Swordsman drifted alone on his one-man boat, and wondered how long it would take for Crocodile to realize that he hadn’t answered his question.

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~ 

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

“King of Diamonds,” Shanks beamed at her, mesmerized by her every move, and getting caught on the gentle sway of her locket while she laid out the trick for him again and again. 

It was Buggy’s trick. Buggy’s locket.

The Emperor of the Sea didn’t realize how much he‘d needed this. Seeing Y/N’s enduring love for their lovely clown gave him a burst of hope that clouded his mind, but he kept up the front.

Maybe playing the villain won’t be so bad.

“I’m afraid you missed this one, Shanks,” she breathed, eyes fluttering a bit as they darted back to her hands. Her movements had to be practiced in front of a crowd like this, but he found himself drawn into her orbit, yet again. 

“That’s alright,” he teased, snatching the card from her. He huffed a laugh as he dropped the Ace of Hearts before taking her hand in his. Y/N’s lips parted in a soft exhale, and he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from them.

“I always win when it counts.”

The sound of bells filled the air.

“Do I count,” she teased, pressing those lips into a subtle, biteable pout for him. 

Hope and greed brought his lips to her skin, just a press against her wrist while he fought the urge to throw her over his shoulder and run. 

“I think she likes you, Chief.”

“What can I say,” Shanks smirked as he plopped down beside his first mate. Y/N’s eyes were following him so clearly on the huge screen that he didn’t need to glance back to check. “I think I might just win this little game.”

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~

“I hear you’re the best there is!”

“That’s correct,” Dracule Mihawk deadpanned. He was only twenty-two years old, but the brightness shining off of the boy that had invaded his corner table made him feel aged and weary. 

Shanks didn’t think his eyes could get any wider. This dangerous, infamous man was so… pretty!

“Run along now.”

“No way,” Shanks laughed, leaning over the table. He froze for a moment under the glare of the strangest eyes he’d ever seen. “Come on, Hawk Eyes, I’m challenging you to a duel!”

The Marine Hunter didn’t spare him another glance, just returned to his book as though Shanks didn’t exist. 

“Come ooon, I bet you’re bored on this little island. I’m only here so my sniper can visit his wife, and they’re not open for company right now. Plus, my first mate already left me for the barmaid so I’m...”

Rambling. Why am I rambling?

Shanks didn't know why he couldn’t let it go, but he had to try. The young captain saw the chance to test himself sitting before him with a beautifully bored look on his face. 

“I wanna fight you.”

“I’m afraid I’m not in the mood for slaughtering children today.”

“I’m eighteen, and my sword is ready, so let’s—“

“Let me see your sword,” Mihawk ordered. He had to stifle a smirk when the redhead obeyed him instantly. 

The saber was longer than was typical for that type, with an extended, green hilt that showed a subtle, but elegant artistry in its craftsmanship. Mihawk was tracing his fingers around the pommel before he remembered that he should have killed the idiot for handing his blade to an enemy. 

“Where did you get this,” he asked instead of stabbing the rookie, letting the young man take the exquisite weapon back. 

“Oh, uh…” Shanks’ cheeks almost matched his hair while he decided what to say. The image of this man laughing him off made sharing the full truth unappealing. “I’ve always had it. My mentor taught me how to use it. So, will you fight me?”

“You’ve piqued my interest. That’s often a fatal mistake, so if you choose to walk away now, I’ll let you go.”

“No one gets away from Red Haired Shanks that easily,” he winked, holding out his hand. 

Mihawk offered his own, and Shanks grinned as they clasped each other’s forearms for a moment. 

“I like your jacket.”

The swordsman narrowed his eyes at the compliment, but followed the young captain out of the tavern, and into the lightly wooded area outside of town. 

He could have sworn he’d seen that ugly, straw hat somewhere before.

~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

You weren’t supposed to think about him. 

How could you hold up that perfect, doll face in front of all the leeches if they smelled any hint of weakness?

How could you keep yourself from crying when you remembered Buggy’s laugh that made you laugh, his touch that made you his, or his pain that broke your heart? 

Yet you kept surrounding yourself with every tiny piece you had left, a masochistic challenge to spice up this auction for your life. 

And here was the man that had hurt Buggy. The asshole that had left him wounded for decades. You had to convince him to apologize to the man he claimed to love, only for the traitor to abandon him when he needed him most. 

I hope they take care of him…

You didn’t have room for too much hope. Not when you could end up trapped with this viper, especially if Uncle caught a whiff of your disdain. 

He’s staring at my lips like he did that first day. Like I’m just something sweet for him to taste. 

“I always win when it counts.”

The sound of the ending bells felt like applause, and another smiling face filled your mind. Blood had dripped onto that stage like scattered petals, all for you. 

Pouting for the Emperor gave you a thrill of pride over how easy it was to make his eyes flash with heat. He pressed a kiss to the inside of your wrist, and you didn’t have to fake the shivers it caused. 

The red headed pirate sauntered off, but your eyes were drawn to him again and again. 

The prey had its own target now. 

I’d rather die than marry that traitor, but if he traps me…

I’ll fucking kill him.

I’ll kill him for you, Buggy.

 ~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🔴🗡️⏰~~~

“Holy shit,” Shanks panted as he narrowly avoided being cleaved in two by that tiny fucking dagger.

“Ha, already lost your confidence, boy?”

Mihawk hadn’t lied. He hadn’t planned on killing anyone on this boring, little island, but fresh blood on his blade had him losing himself. He’d had a few moments of hope for a real challenge, but the building disappointment was about to quicken his opponent’s death.

“Nope! Just– fuck!”

The red haired youth dodged too late, collapsing to the dirt. He clutched at his side, hardly doing a thing to staunch the blood that was slowly staining the forest floor. 

I can’t die yet. He didn’t even draw his sword… 

“You’re the strongest fighter I’ve met in awhile, yet you’re still such a pitiful creature,” Mihawk scowled, kicking the saber from the rookie’s weak grasp. “And here, I was almost having fun. What a waste of time…”

“W-wait, Hawk Eyes,” Shanks coughed, spreading more blood around. “You’re bored, aren’t you? You like fighting?”

“People can be so perceptive in their final moments,” he drawled. Mihawk brought Kogatana to the boy’s throat, the small blade poised to cease his blubbering.

“You said you almost had f-fun,” Shanks bargained, his eyes wider than ever while beautiful death loomed over him. “I'll make you a deal, alright?”

Golden eyes seemed to sharpen, just as the blade pressed into his neck a bit more.

“Don’t waste any more of my time,” came his vicious, yet waiting voice. 

“I won’t,” Shanks panicked, smiling under that cold glare. “It's too early for me to die, friend. There's so much for me to learn. I promise that if you give me a chance, I'll get stronger! Let me live, and I'll get strong enough to give you a real fun fight, I swear!”

One of the longest moments Shanks had ever experienced dragged on, while the unreadable swordsman above him hardly moved at all, until his head cocked to the side.

“Intriguing,” Mihawk frowned, still holding steel against that young throat. “I suppose I can hold off on killing you for now.”

“You can– ow!”

Mihawk removed the blade that Shanks had leaned into in excitement, and rolled his eyes with instant regret. 

“Don’t challenge me again until you’re ready. I’ll kill you slowly for making me wait.”

“No problem,” Shanks waved to the man’s back. Dracule Mihawk had already left him bleeding in the dirt. “I’ll get you back, Hawk Eyes.”

~~~⏰🔴🗡️⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🤡🐊🤡~~~

It felt so quiet with just the two of them, even with all the hustle and bustle of the guild getting to work.

He’s like a big, scary teddy bear.

“You alright little clown,” Crocodile soothed, rubbing softly between Buggy’s shoulder blades while he had a coughing fit. 

The clown gave a thumbs up, grateful that he hadn’t spoken the thought out loud. 

Mihawk had been gone for hours, and the afternoon was aging fast, but neither of the men on the couch had cared about dressing for the day. That soft smoking jacket made Crocodile’s warm body almost too soothing to lean against, especially while the clown listened to his star do their card trick again and again.

When the coughing stopped, Crocodile’s large hand pulled gently, guiding the clown back into that comfortable position. 

Buggy didn’t fight it. He knew he might be an idiot for getting used to this strange reality where Sir Crocodile cuddled with him, but he needed it right now.

Maybe he needs it too.

~~~🐊🤡🐊🤡~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

I’ll skin him. Boil him alive. 

“You look amazing,” Kat muttered, avoiding your death-filled gaze in the mirror. 

“Tell me,” you growled at the nearest staff, “why the fuck do I need to wear a swimsuit on a first date?”

They’d given you a variety of options, all of which were as red as that stupid hair. You’d chosen the one that came with a tiny bit of cloth to wrap around your hips, so you could at least pretend you were wearing some fucking clothes. 

“I’m so sorry you weren’t given more notice, Miss Sylvad,” she hurried, her empty words already draining your resolve. 

It’s not their fault. It’s his. 

“As you know, the hun– suitors, excuse me,” she coughed nervously, and you saw Kat’s eyes widen over her shoulder while you shoved down the manic laughter in your gut. “The suitors get to choose the themes of the first dates, and the Emperor stated that he enjoys long walks on the beach, so–”

“I can walk fine without–”

“There’s my lovely nieces,” Cedrick beamed, nearly hitting one of the staff with the door when he barged in. “Everyone out, even you, sweetheart.”

Kat stepped back from his touch on her shoulder, but you told her it was fine before her fruitless argument could leave her lips. 

He was going to get what he wanted, so she might as well save the energy, though she scowled at him all the way out the door.

“Nice pick,” he taunted, gesturing at your swimsuit. “I preferred the little, frilly one, but I’m sure the pirate can tear into this one just fine, even one handed.”

Nothing. Give him nothing.

“Did you have something to tell me, Uncle? I have a date to prepare for.”

“Atta girl,” your uncle laughed, lounging in the nearest chair. “Just wanted to check in on who your favorites are.”

“It’s too early to tell,” you reported, fighting to keep your voice even. 

“Well, be sure to keep me posted,” he ordered with a smirk. “Unfortunately there’s already one name that needs to be crossed off the list. I want him to have his little date though, and we should send someone else home before him. The last thing the family needs are accusations of racism if we boot the only Fishman first. Inclusivity bullshit is always a fucking headache.”

“Why…” 

Fukaboshi was overwhelming. He was two stories tall, and you couldn’t imagine leaving your whole world behind, or how any of that would even work.

Yet, he’d seemed truly kind. The prince had almost put himself, and his people, in danger with his earnest questions about your captivity. 

He’d come to this land of leeches looking for allies, but only cruelty lived here. Only gluttonous, selfish, hateful—

“Who would you like to send home first,” Uncle Cedrick asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. “I’ll be rigging tomorrow's game so the Fishman should win the next date, then we can send him off with no worries. So who’s your least favorite?”

“I really don’t know, Uncle. I haven’t spent enough time with them to be sure.”

A little movement around his eyes, a little smirk. You weren’t going to fall for it. 

“Let’s remedy that, dear niece,” he declared as he moved toward you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. He turned you toward the mirror, and his reflection was frightening. 

He was gleeful.

“I have put quite a bit of berry on your red haired date becoming the next King of the Pirates. Make sure you treat him like royalty tonight.” He left you there to wince while he called over his shoulder. “I know how much you enjoyed whoring for those pirates, Y/N. Now you could be their little whore queen!”

~~~

You were carted around like royalty in your uncle’s obnoxious carriage, already feeling the cool, gentle breeze through the wood paneling as you neared one of the only sandy beaches on the small island. The rest of the coastlines were rimmed with craggy cliffs at the edge of forests, and perching on those rocks was your preferred way to enjoy the ocean. 

Not shivering in a swimsuit at dusk, with sand already creeping up your legs.

“Wow, you look…”

All the staff scurried to the little trailers nearby, leaving you face to face with him while he scanned over your mostly bare skin. 

Shanks looked right at home on the beach. 

He’d managed to find a dark green version of his hardly-buttoned shirts that looked unfairly good against his skin, but his loose fitting pants were still covered in a headache inducing pattern. They were gathered below the knees, presumably to make his long walks on the beach in those lame sandals that much easier. 

And his cape. How could you forget the cape? 

He was still gawking at you while you tried not to fume at how fucking stunning he looked in his stupid clothes. 

“Why are you dressed like this?”

“You don’t like it, Emperor,” you pouted, playing pretend with a wobble of hurt in your voice. “I heard you wanted a beach date.”

“I like it very much,” he purred, bringing a gasp to your lips when he was suddenly inches from you. He trailed his fingers down your neck and chest, following the chain of your locket until he smiled. “I just don’t want my little bunny getting cold tonight.”

Shivering under the weight of his warm cape, you thanked the charming villain while he led you to a little table by the fire. Staff rushed up to serve you, but Shanks snagged the open bottle, and waved them off while you tried not to let your mouth water at the platter of hors d’oeuvres between you. 

He poured the sake, but said nothing while you toasted. Just stared at you, his little half-smile growing deeper when you accepted a bite of food from his hand.

At least you didn’t have to worry about your food with Shanks tasting everything along with you. No one would dare spike the Emperor’s drink.

I might. If I have to.

You faded in and out of daydreaming his murder, and nearly forgetting. 

Shanks was the perfect predator, luring in his prey with such playful joy and power. He was pure light, drawing in the moths until they burned to a crisp in his cruel, selfish flames. 

You knew this, yet there were moments when he made you truly laugh, and you clutched at your locket, silently vowing again and again that you would destroy this man. 

If he didn’t kill you while you made him pay, then his crew surely would. It was a last resort. 

You didn’t want to die, and it felt nice knowing that.

Yet if the only options you had left were being owned by this monster, or dying while you took him down, then you’d get him drunk and happy on your honeymoon, and gut him like a pig. 

Until then though…

“You feeling alright, gorgeous,” your prey checked in, guiding you to a trailer to wash up. The staff disappeared again, scattering like cockroaches, but the illusion of privacy never fooled you. 

“I feel good.” Your hum made his eyes glint for you, and he pulled you down the shore, away from the staff, and their snail-covered equipment. 

“Wanna dip your toes in,” Shanks ginned, wrapping his arm around your waist. It felt like he wouldn’t give you a choice either way. His strong fingers curled around your hip, teasing along the edge of your swimsuit, and your body ached when you remembered what they could do to you. 

You wanted to forget for a while. You wanted to pretend. 

Might as well enjoy myself before I kill him. 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

He’d almost forgotten where they were. 

It doesn’t matter. I’ve got her, Buggy. Your shining star.

When she laughed, the Emperor of the Sea forgot everything. 

It was a perfect sound, a beautiful movement of her body, her head thrown back just a bit, as though he’d shocked the laughter out of her. 

She didn’t look like a wounded star tonight. There was fire beneath all of her flirting, and he had to feel it.

Greed crept back into his heart the longer he spent by her side, and he couldn’t help but reach for her, pulling her toward the gentle sea. 

He wanted her. He wanted all of them. 

Shanks wanted everything, and that sweet, little pout of hers seemed to promise it. 

“It’s too cold,” Y/N shivered, avoiding the soft waves that lapped along the shore.

“I’ll keep you warm.”

She snorted, clamping a hand over her lips when he cocked a brow at her. His lovely date dipped her toes in, then took off up the beach, her laughter filling every bit of his mind until he joined in, chasing after her.

“How are you going to— oh,” she panted, gasping when she turned to find him so close. 

“Bunny,” he laughed as she tripped on his cloak trying to run backwards. He caught her just in time to fall with her, bracing with his elbow to keep his full weight from pressing her beneath him.

Shanks forgot. 

That shining star was still gasping as she laid on his cloak, a perfect blanket spread out to watch the night sky she must have fallen from. The soft tint of the night made her skin seem unreal, intoxicating. 

He had to touch her.

She touched him first.

Y/N’s hands wrapped around his shoulders, fingers curling into his hair when she pulled him in for a kiss. He couldn’t hold in a low growl that grew when she drank it hungrily from his lips. 

Nothing else existed when she pulled him closer, tugging at his shirt to tease her nails along his back. She moaned so sweetly around his tongue when he grinded himself against her, barely any cloth to keep them apart. 

He almost forgot.

“Mmm… Hey, bunny,” Shanks purred, his eyes heavy lidded to match the lovely ones beneath him. “Are you sure—“

“Aren’t you going to keep me warm?”

Y/N was pouting, teasing, begging, her fingers still trailing over his skin.

Everything about her was giving heat. 

Everything was perfect. 

Everything except for a flash in her eyes that plunged Shanks’ heart into the icy depths of the ocean at his back. 

“Is something wrong,” beautiful death asked softly, her mask so exquisitely crafted. 

“No, not at all,” Shanks cleared his throat, pushing himself away. “I just… It would be a shame to have my first time with such a beauty in front of an audience.” 

The sound of bells saved him.

She tilted her head back, sighing when she saw the vehicles approaching. 

“Bunny, I—“

“Thank you for the lovely date, Emperor. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He helped her up, brushing the sand from her skin while he tried to figure out what to say. 

He didn’t think fast enough, and soon the staff had swarmed her, wrapping her in a fluffy robe before whisking her away.

The red haired pirate declined a ride back to the estate, waving the people, and their watching snails away. 

It was a long walk. 

There would never be enough distance for Shanks to cross to get away from the sickness that had seeped into his bones, into his every organ. 

Y/N’s empty eyes had branded guilt onto his heart before, and he couldn’t stand his arrogance. He thought he’d already made it all better, that his greedy heart was going to take everything it wanted. 

I wanted to own her, just like the leeches.

Tonight, Y/N’s eyes hadn’t been empty, but she was so good at hiding.

Or I just saw what I wanted to see. Until she…

What Shanks had seen in that flash, in that glimpse beneath her mask, was evil. It was frightening, sick, manic.

It was hate. 

I did that. I filled that lovely girl’s heart with hatred. 

The walk wasn’t long enough to shake off his self loathing, but Shanks knew what he needed if he was going to make things right. 

He needed one more chance. 

One more private date. 

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

“Look, I’ll taste it,” your mother sighed before taking a drink from the steaming mug she kept brandishing at you. “Now please, drink it, sweetie. You look…”

“I look like death,” you drawled, wishing the coffee would cool down so you could chug it. 

“Not at all, Miss Sylvad, you just need some brightening up! We’ll take good care of you,” chirped your mom’s favorite makeup artist. You couldn’t remember his name this early in the morning, but you were fighting not to throw the hot coffee at him so he’d stop being so fucking cheerful. 

You hadn’t been able to fall asleep last night. 

The scent of him had lingered around you, even after you’d tried to scrub him off of you in the shower. 

The whole night had replayed in your mind, making you dizzy with guilt over every moment when you relaxed, when you forgot.

Then it would cycle through again, rage building until you chewed your tongue to keep from snarling to the empty air around you. 

But your body…

Frustration nearly clawed itself out of you, and you’d had to hold your breath to fight the screams and tears it would have left in its wake. You’d been so fucking close to having something to turn your brain off for a minute, even if it was him.

All of your attempts to take care of that need on your own left you defeated, your guilty hunger twisting every image you tried to cling to.

You couldn’t imagine his fingers without picturing the gloved ones you missed so much. 

Couldn’t picture Shanks fucking you without remembering him making love to Buggy. You were trapped in silence on the edge of that bed again, but there was no one to rescue you this time. 

Last night, you’d fallen apart. It had to be it. You couldn’t afford these emotions. 

You’d bitten your pillow to stifle the wracking sobs while your mind tore you down, forcing you to mourn more than just Buggy. 

It felt like you were choking on their names, all the men you’d left behind. 

If loneliness alone could kill, you would have died there in that luxurious bed, aching to be smothered in the heat of bodies you’d never feel again.

Shanks was torturing you. His very presence was a reminder of the daydream you had fooled yourself into thinking you could keep. 

“Are you alright, Miss Sylvad?”

“What? Oh, I’m… I’m fine.”

The sound of tears in your voice was enough to drag you back. 

You let yourself fall away. 

Empty.

Empty’s good.

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

Benn literally kicked his ass out of bed this morning, ripping the expensive bedding off of his captain while he scolded him out of the dream world. 

“Quit complaining,” his first mate commanded him, rolling his eyes at the pathetic groans. “You’ve got a beautiful girl to win, Chief. You can sleep when she’s yours.”

Shanks’ morning mind was still soaked in last night's attempt to drown it in sake, so he couldn’t tell if he’d thanked or cussed out the older man for his help. Regardless, the red haired pirate was dressed for breakfast, luckily remembering his appointment.

After the first dates, the suitors got to have breakfast with the Sylvads. 

Maybe I’ll get a moment alone with her.

“There’s our favorite Emperor,” Cedrick called through the door, gesturing for Shanks to join them. “Make yourself at home!”

“Home” was strangely sterile, more of a conference room than a dining area. Cedrick sat at the head of the table, offering the empty seat beside him, opposite Y/N, and her practiced smile. 

I can do this. I can convince her I’m on her side.

I have to.

“I thought this was gonna be a family breakfast. You’ve got a little sister out there, don’t you, gorgeous?”

“I—“

“Don’t worry, Shanks,” Cedrick waved off the question. “There will be plenty of time for family get-togethers. Since you joined our game at the last minute, I figured we should have a little business talk before you get back to all the pleasure.”

Shanks almost shoved his fork through the man’s throat. 

The taunting glance he’d given his niece at the last word tested Shanks’ self control, and he couldn’t believe how calm she seemed. 

“Of course. I understand it’s not just love we’re fighting for.”

“Not love. Family,” Cedrick vowed. He emphasized his words with a firm grip on Shanks’ shoulder, and the pirate had to hold his breath to keep from shaking him off.

How does she do this all day?

“Whoever marries my dear niece will be family, and Sylvads take care of their own. I know there’s a lot we could do for each other.”

“It’s an honor to be considered,” Shanks toasted them both, aching to see anything real behind her polite mask. 

“You know, Shanks, it’s a real shame you went to the wrong brother all those years ago,” Cedrick mused, shifting his tone just enough to suck all the air from the room. “You might have been King of the Pirates by now if you’d asked me instead.”

“What do you mean?”

Shanks mumbled those loathsome words while the ground disappeared beneath him. The question in her eyes sparked his panic, but it was too late. 

“Please, Arbo loved to brag about drinking with Roger’s apprentice. I could never understand how he let a little girl spook him out of the deal of a lifetime.”

“What are you talking about?”

Her eyes were wide when she asked, but Y/N wasn’t looking at either of them. She was slipping further and further away with every word her uncle spewed, and Shanks had no idea how to stop it. 

“You know the family stories, niece, and you’re smart enough to figure out which ones are true,” he chided. 

Cedrick would have lost his hand when he tapped the tip of her nose, but Shanks was frozen. 

“Your daddy turned down the chance to help the Pirate King’s apprentice build the next ship to conquer the Grand Line. Arbo could have made history, but he decided not to because his ‘widdle numbers girl’ cried about some gods damned tree.”

…

“Wha-what?”

She was so good at hiding, so it felt like his soul cracked when her voice did. Horror and shame filled the Emperor of the Sea when a daughter’s grief shone in those beautiful eyes. 

“It had to be fifteen, nearly twenty years ago now, wasn’t it?”

He sounded fucking jolly while he ripped both of their hearts out. 

“Yeah, I think so,” Shanks coughed, caving when the man gripped his shoulder a bit harder. 

“Well, I don’t have the same qualms as my dear brother, so I might be willing to butcher an Adam Tree. Only for family, of course.”

Unshed tears were balanced in her eyes, and she seemed to be turning herself into a statue before she’d let them fall. 

There had been time to tell her. Shanks’ mind flew through a list of excuses for why he hadn’t, why it wasn’t a good time, how she’d been going through too much to tell her a story about her dead father. Yet this whirlwind of a woman had cleared away his old disguises, so he could no longer believe his own lies. 

I didn’t even think about telling her. All I cared about was getting what I wanted.

I’m no hero.

“I was wondering if that’s why you joined the game,” Cedrick smirked. He squeezed Shanks’ shoulder one last time before releasing him, but the relief was lost when the next words spilled from that evil mouth. 

Shanks watched every bit of movement on her face now. He watched his selfishness curdle around her, poisoning any slim chance he still had to gain her trust. 

“All the players are going for the One Piece, so Red Haired Shanks is back to get his miracle ship,” Cedrick taunted, his eyes glued on his niece. “And now he can finally teach the little brat that cost him his boat a lesson. I wonder if my sentimental brother would have chopped down that tree if he knew his favorite daughter would have to spread her—“

“What about you?”

“Excuse me,” Cedrick turned toward the growl, his brows raised a bit. 

He’s not nearly fucking scared enough.

Shanks paused too long, but the second the asshole started to tilt back toward her, the pirate started talking. He had no idea what to say, but he knew he had to keep that piece of shit from looking at her again. 

“Families help each other out,” Shanks flirted, feeling like he was swallowing venom with every moment he smiled at this monster. “So, what about you? How could I help out my new family, if I were so lucky?”

“I have a few ideas,” Cedrick purred as he leaned back in his chair. His eyes were relaxed, and slow while they scanned over him, as though he had all the time in the world to make an Emperor of the Sea wait on his every word. “I think that’s enough business for today, though. Let’s get back to pleasure.”

Cedrick Sylvad forced them to toast at that, and Shanks couldn’t understand how his niece had kept all of those tears from falling. Y/N’s cheeks were dry, and she smiled at him when their glasses touched. It was a perfect smile, welcoming, alluring, and sweet. 

It was a death trap. 

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~

~~~

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

Every time Shanks walked into a tavern, he knew he might meet his death. Would it be with his weight in alcohol, or with the slim hope for a golden eyed grim reaper tucked into a corner booth?

Shanks had gotten stronger before, but since a few stupid words had taken all the joy from his life last year, he couldn’t focus on anything else.

Beautiful death sounded pretty good, but all he kept finding was booze. 

Until tonight.

“Hey, Hawk Eyes.”

“Hmm? Here to interrupt my lunch,” Mihawk noted, boredom radiating from him. “How delightful.”

The new Warlord of the Sea could feel the difference in power in his former opponent. He could see the muscles born of years of holding a sword in the redhead’s forearms while he carried two heaping mugs, invading his table again after four years. 

Mihawk could see the dim light of this sticky tavern glinting off of that lovely sword.

“I prefer wine,” he drawled, returning his gaze to his book while he tried to catch the man’s heartbeat over the noise. He’d have to get closer for that, but it was an unnecessary risk.

That sword deserved a true fight. 

“More for me then,” Shanks shrugged, gulping down one of the beers while his enemy sighed.

“If you’re not serious about challenging me, then kindly leave me to my reading.”

Shanks reached for the hand that held the book, but it withdrew so fast, danger in those golden eyes now as they narrowed on him. 

“There’s the monster I remember," Shanks raised his mug, drinking in the sight before him. 

Dracule Mihawk pulled his feet down from the table, and set his book aside, never taking his eyes off the pirate. Adjusting his jacket looked like an instinctual habit, the maroon fabric and floral patterns seeming out of place on a killer’s skin. 

“Do you shave your sideburns all pointy like that, or–”

“Are you suicidal, rookie?”

“What do you care,” Shanks scoffed. He couldn’t stop himself. He didn’t want to. “You’ve been looking forward to killing me, haven’t you? And I don’t see any blood on that big sword of yours, so you must be bored here.”

Mihawk wanted to stay bored, but this pretty pirate, and his ugly hat were getting on his nerves. 

“I’m sure one of the local drunkards could grant your death wish in a back alley brawl. I don’t need to dirty my blade on weak blood like yours.”

Oh, but he wanted to. 

And the red haired captain could see it. Just the slightest curve of those cruel lips, a faint intake of breath when he stretched his arms above his head, that dangerous gaze caught on every mark of training on his body. 

Shanks was fucking high on it, and he wasn’t going to let it end so soon.

“I’m here to challenge you, Hawk Eye Mihawk,” he smirked, finally free of thoughts as thrills shot through him. “I’m here to end you.” 

“You’re here to try.”

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

~~~

~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

It’s okay. You’re okay.

Soothing words were bad.

Not real. It’s all pretend. 

Uncle Cedrick was talking again, lording over the lunch that had been laid out along the beach today. 

The beach where you’d begged him to touch you last night. 

Not real. 

Nothing matters. 

Fake is fine.

Not real. Can’t feel. 

“Come now, niece, don’t keep the hunters waiting!”

He handed you bit of cloth, and you had no idea what the fuck to do with it. Reality reformed around you, and you found your suitors lined up on the sand, watching your every movement. 

You held up the flag and dropped it down, grateful that you’d guessed right when most of the men started running toward the waves. 

“Good afternoon, Y/N,” came a deep, deep voice that almost pulled you free. 

“Hi, uh… Hello, Katakuri,” you shook beneath his gaze.

Oh yeah. Maybe this gentle giant will crush me to death tonight. That might make things easier.

“I was hoping that since it’s our night tonight, I might be able to sit with you today?”

“There’s no rule against it,” your uncle shrugged, snagging his drink to raise it toward the crimson haired man above. “Don’t ignore your other suitors though, niece. They’re putting in a lot of work to win you today.”

The portable screen that had been set up between some of the larger vehicles caught your eye. It showed Giberson lounging with a cocktail, sticking his pasty toes in the sand while he waved at the younger men running past.

Thankfully, the cam snails shifted their focus to your other suitors, their powerful bodies gleaming while most of them tore their shirts off before diving into the waves.

It was hard to enjoy the view with that glaring, red hair always hogging the screen. 

I bet he’s a fan favorite, that fucking—“

“Do you like sweets, Y/N?”

“I’m sorry,” you choked, head twisting to meet those stunning eyes. 

“I’ve noticed that you don’t seem to like the food they’ve been serving here, and since I was hoping to make something with you during our date tonight, I want to be sure you’ll enjoy it.”

Katakuri was shielding his eyes from the sun to look down at you, and you felt a stupid bit of guilt for ignoring this seemingly sweet man that came here to own you. 

“I love sweets, I’ve just been so nervous,” came another lie that was true. “It’s hard to eat when I’m nervous, but if you promise to share with me, then I can’t wait to—”

“Well, Emperor, that’s not quite what we were looking for,” Uncle Cedrick teased as he followed Shanks back to your table. 

“I found what I was looking for,” he rasped, going to a knee beside you. Your image on the screen held you prisoner, just as he planned to do.

Shanks’ title had never suited him so well. The Emperor of the Sea was drenched, his red hair gone dark, clinging to his face and neck. Drops of the ocean fell from the ends to pour down his body in hypnotizing lines. His chest was almost always bare, but the way his skin glowed under all that salt and sun turned his body into a work of art, something to gaze upon and enjoy, and you fucking hated him for it. 

Monsters should look as ugly as their souls. 

“I realized I didn’t bring you a gift last night, and I had to make it right.”

You heard the sand shifting as Katakuri moved closer, but Shanks held your gaze. 

Those soft, brown eyes held nothing but lies. 

“A beautiful shell for a beautiful girl,” he breathed, wincing slightly when your uncle joked for the crowd, lamenting how “lovey dovey” things might get if all the hunters tried to spoil you. 

You had to accept his gift.

It was a large conch shell, and it was beautiful, with spirals and spikes laid out in gentle colors. 

“Listen to it, Y/N. Can you hear the ocean?”

“I… Yeah, I can,” you nodded, holding the shell up to your ear. Distant music filled your mind, and you shoved the memories down. Luckily, a trail of dripping suitors was headed toward you, and you were grateful for any excuse to stop looking at him. 

You were so fucking close to smashing that spiky shell into his face.

“The deep, blue sea loves its creatures so much that it sends its ears along with them.”

“Uh, thank you? I–“

“And the winner of today’s hunt is Prince Fukaboshi!”

Shanks had no choice but to move when Uncle Cedrick grabbed your elbow to guide you to another small stage, riding it into the air beside you. 

The merman prince looked like the God of the Sea. 

His spotted tail made giant patterns in the sand as he floated toward you, shaking out his light blue hair before you came close to his glinting smile. His teeth.

Shark. He’s like a shark.

“For you, Miss Sylvad. I hope that whatever this treasure is brings you as much pleasure as your company brings me.”

So very carefully, Fukaboshi’s massive fingers placed an ornate wooden chest on the platform in front of you, and a look from your uncle sent you to your knees to open it up.

Salt water and seaweed poured out, sending chills over your skin before you reached inside. The treasure was hard to identify in the soggy container, but soon you held it up for everyone to see. 

Everyone could see you while you stared at the intricate ship in a bottle, your dad’s signature redwood still painted on one of the sails. 

“Thank you for finding this for me, Prince Fukaboshi,” you praised, teetering on the edge of tears again. “I… I haven’t seen it in a long time.”

You hadn’t seen one of his little ships since you’d smashed a few of them to pieces ten years ago. The rest had been hidden away before the spoiled heiress could destroy them all during another tantrum. 

More of dad’s perfect creations that he’d lovingly stuffed into a pretty cage.

The world swerved, and by some miracle, your shaky hands placed the bottle back into the chest, closing the lid with a soft thud.

“Are you feeling well, niece,” Unce Cedrick crooned as he laid his hand on your back, painting the picture of a loving family.

“Yes, uncle, thank you,” came your soft, gracious voice. Your Sylvad smile was the only armor you had against the onslaught of eyes.

“I feel perfect.” 

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~

~~~

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

It was the perfect fight. The perfect dance.

“Where was this fire back then, Red Hair? This rage?”

“You trying to distract me, Hawk Eyes?”

Shanks pressed all of his weight against that powerful blade, their swords scraping against each other like deadly instruments. Mihawk had that huge weapon tilted down for an attack he couldn’t finish, and the younger pirate laughed as he caged him in against a tree. 

“There’s no need,” Mihawk growled, his body singing with the first true challenge he’d faced in years. “You’re still an overconfident, little boy.”

“Well, this— gods damn it, really,” Shanks groaned, unable to rub the pain off of his face with all of his strength holding his sword against the other. “Aren’t you a fucking swordsman? Head butts don’t seem that honorable.”

“A true fighter knows when to be flexible,” Mihawk taunted, finally slipping from Shanks’ hold. 

Perfect. 

Any of his previous opponents would have been sliced in half by his quick recovery, Yoru gliding through the air like a bird of prey.

Yet this man parried the attack with hardly a second to shift after Mihawk’s escape. 

And he was smiling. 

“I told you we’d be having fun.”

“That’s what you’ve been training for all this time, Red Hair? You’re willing to die for a bit of fun?”

“Aren’t you?”

Their taunts grew breathier as the clash of blades went on, but soon they both carried feral grins, laughing at every near miss. They didn’t notice all the trees they knocked down, or the creatures of the forest that fled into the golden glow of the coming sunset.

This perfect dance had lasted for hours, but it could have been seconds or days to them. 

The dancers lost themselves in the sounds of bodies and blades, in the strength and will of their beautiful enemy, and in the sweat, blood, and dirt that only made them seem more like beasts, hungry for more. 

Until the end. 

“Do it.”

Mihawk couldn’t believe it. 

He’d slipped. Hours and hours of sweat and blood dripping through his fingers made him slip just enough for his enemy to slip through.

I should have wrapped the handle better. 

The swordsman huffed a laugh at his own arrogance. He hadn’t had to worry about sweating through that fabric in years. 

“Laughing in the face of death, huh,” Shanks asked, holding Gryphon to the Warlord’s throat. He’d pinned the man down, his weight pressing his enemy into the rough ground. 

“I’m waiting for death, Red Hair,” he sneered, stretching his neck to give the man a clearer target. “Get on with it.”

“Now why would I wanna do that,” Shanks rasped. The chaos in those pretty eyes was hypnotizing. 

Shame and fury almost broke the man loose, but all he could do was seethe while blood started to trickle down his throat from his movements. 

“If you don’t finish this I’ll—“

“Make a deal with me,” Shanks purred, leaning close to breathe his bargain over those snarling lips. “I want you to live, and get stronger, so we can have even more fun next time.”

“If you don’t end this now, I will kill you sl—“

“Slowly, right? Sounds like fun to me.”

He freed the monster, collapsing onto the ground beside him to laugh, and wince with the pain of their dance.

This feels good.

“Tomorrow. You die tomorrow, Red Hair.”

The Warlord felt pathetic spitting the threat from his back, but he tilted his head to find that shiny, bloody smile again. 

“Tomorrow it is,” Shanks agreed, before diving into even more dangerous distractions. “What about tonight, Hawk Eyes? You got any plans?”

“You are truly magnificent, you suicidal fool,” Mihawk laughed, a lovely sound from those cruel lips. The redhead wouldn’t stop beaming at him, and something in him snapped. 

Mihawk couldn’t stop laughing, even through the soreness, even when his ridiculous enemy joined in. 

“What do you say, swordsman, wanna go grab a beer?”

“I prefer wine.”

“Whatever you want, loser—mmnf.”

“I will kill you tomorrow,” Mihawk sneered, rolling to hold Kogatana to that pretty throat.

“Let’s go celebrate your victory then,” Shanks winked, his jaw shifting in playful challenge. “Do you prefer red or— It’s red, isn’t it?”

“So perceptive in your final moments,” Mihawk drawled after too long a pause, but he helped his enemy off the ground. 

He walked beside the man that could have killed him. That should have killed him. 

This isn’t safe. 

Mihawk tried to listen to his instincts, every muscle in his body screaming for him to take down the smiling threat at his side. 

Yet all he could do was follow that red, unable to look at anything else. 

~~~

“What are you doing,” Mihawk growled, shrugging off Shanks’ touch when they entered the tavern.

“Don’t you wanna clean your pretty clothes first,” he teased, before nodding his head toward the hallway he’d tried to pull his enemy down. “My room’s this way, and it’s got a nice bathroom we can use. We look pretty fucked up, Hawk Eyes.”

Shanks leaned in again, his lip scraping through his teeth just a bit. Just enough.

Fuck being safe. 

“Getting cleaned up is going to take awhile,” Mihawk gave in, returning that heated stare. “How many bottles can you carry?”

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

~~~

~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊🤡🐊🤡~~~

Shanks had finally figured it out, but the weight of nausea wouldn’t leave. Buggy knew she’d wanted him, he knew that breathing, but listening to Shanks touch her when he didn’t know how she felt was… 

“You need to get some sleep, little clown. Do you… Did you wanna sleep somewhere else?”

Crocodile tried to sound light, as though he’d be fine with an empty bed knowing that his clown would be whimpering in his sleep like he had every night since she left. There was a growing awkwardness in the air since that private date started, and he didn’t know how to quash it, or if he had any right to.

“No, I don't,” Buggy admitted. That scarred face seemed so careful, as though the man were holding still so he wouldn’t spook him. With a sigh, Buggy knew it was probably true. He let himself be swallowed by that comfortable, deadly warmth again. 

Holding him close, Crocodile fell through his own mind.

At some point, he had lost sight of his goals. The greed of how to reach them made him lose the vision, and ultimately lose it all. How many other things should he have protected instead of destroyed? How could he ever balance the scales with those he wanted to keep?

“Hey, boss,” Buggy cleared his throat, lips twitching nervously when he turned to look at that frightening face, unreadable as stone. The tension in his body was pretty readable though, and it didn’t seem like either of them would be falling asleep anytime soon.

“I know it’s late, but do you, uh… wanna call him?”

~~~🤡🐊🤡🐊~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~

~~~

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

They set their swords down. 

Mihawk had almost walked away, but Shanks tossed his sword out of reach first before backing into the bathroom with a crooked grin, and an open bottle of wine in each hand. 

“You comin’?”

The Warlord followed, not knowing if he could see the other man as anything but an enemy, even for a night. 

The bottle of red helped. 

“Here, let me help you with that.”

“It’s fine, I’ve— fu-uck!”

An absurdly large splinter had pierced into Mihawk’s lower back sometime during the fight, and although the two men had been staring at each other while they showered, they hadn’t touched until Shanks saw him struggling with that invasive bit of wood. 

“This little thing hurt that bad, huh,” Shanks teased as he tossed the splinter, reaching for the first aid supplies the bartender had shoved at them when they walked in dripping with blood. 

He soaked a swab in alcohol, and pressed it to the small wound before the swordsman could dodge him, and the desperate noise he let out made Shanks’ jaw drop. 

Mihawk turned away, grabbing a towel to tie down his body's reaction before leaving the redhead in the bathroom with his mouth still hanging wide. 

“I’ve got some extra pants you can—“

“I’m not wearing your ugly pants. They look like an old lady’s couch.”

Shanks snorted, admiring the sulking Warlord that was cleaning his already clean blade. 

“No pants then. I can live with that.”

“Is this what you wanted all along, Red Hair? I would have have fucked you on the tavern table if you’d just asked nicely.”

Shanks had left his towel in the bathroom, and his body’s reaction to those words was on full display while he leaned against the doorframe. 

“I don’t think losers get to be on top, Hawk Eyes.”

Rage was back. 

“And I don’t think I can wait until tomorrow to kill you.”

“Come on, friend,” Shanks dared, taking another swig while the hissing monster held that tiny blade to his throat again. “Let’s have some more fun.”

Who moved first? Neither could tell, but however it started, nothing in the world could stop them now. 

That kiss between rivals sparked another dance that would last for hours. 

Another fight that left them snarling and breathless, throwing taunts back and forth while they tore each other apart. 

Another battle of strength and will to see which man would fall to the other. 

“You truly believe you can take me,” Mihawk laughed, shoving his opponent against the wall hard enough for the wood to groan, and the dust to shake loose from the shelves beside them. 

“I believe you want me to,” the redhead taunted. It felt so good to be lost. “You keep hunting for someone who can. I bet you’re just dying to get fucked into the ground, aren’t you? Want me to hurt you?”

He fisted into that soft, black hair, yanking the man’s head back. That pathetic moan was music to his ears, and his cock was dripping with the need to shove it into the swordsman already. 

“And what about you,” Mihawk growled. He grabbed onto Shanks’ pulsing cock, and laughed when his knees nearly buckled. “You’re so obsessed with fighting me, trying so hard to fuck me. Willing to die for some fun? I’ve never met such a desperate whore.”

And they were kissing again, with Mihawk laughing into Shanks’ mouth while his cruel fingers made his enemy whine.

“Gods, if you’re gonna be such a sore loser, I guess you can take the win,” caved the redhead, breathless and aching to let this man clear his mind for as long as he could. He stumbled over to his bag, and tossed his rival a bottle of lube.

“Knew this was what you wanted,” Mihawk purred, already fisting the cool liquid over his swollen cock before bringing the bottle to his opponent’s waiting body. “You even came prepared.”

“Never know who you might run into at a— ooh, f-fuck. Mm, you’re so good at that.”

Mihawk smirked while his fingers tore so many noises from this gorgeous man, adding and stretching while he taunted him.

“I’ve never fucked someone I planned to kill the next day,” he threatened. That tiny smirk on the redhead’s lips was a challenge, and he needed to make this smug, little pirate beg.

Gods, he’s so pretty. He—

Shanks’ eyes rolled back, whatever he’d planned to say disappearing when the swordsman pierced him. Rough, angry, owning. Exactly what he needed.

“Hawk Eye— Hawk. Fuuck, you feel so fucking good, baby.”

“This it, huh,” he snarled, shoving Shanks’ thigh toward him with one hand, and grabbing that whining throat with the other. “Are you a little toy made just for me? Following me around until I sink my blade in you?”

Oh, those golden eyes. Shanks could have died right then, letting this man have him, but he didn’t want it to end. Didn’t want him to leave. 

And he just couldn’t help himself.

Mihawk had never made that sound before. He had his prey beneath him, flushed and desperate, those soft, brown eyes almost broken. 

Then there was pain.

He didn’t know what was happening until he saw that fucking smirk, but it was too late.

Shanks had found that little wound on his back, and dug his nails in. 

He looked so fucking smug before he followed his lover, arching his back while he came across his chest and stomach. It didn’t stop him from making Mihawk twitch and moan with sharp pleasure from the pain he kept twisting into his skin. 

They both whimpered and gasped while Mihawk kept fucking his come even deeper. Shanks’ nails in his skin were the strings of a marionette, controlling him, owning him.

It felt unreal.

The Warlord wanted to be angry, wanted to punish the grinning lover he still pierced, but he couldn’t think. 

Just a little while. A little while longer without thinking, until the enemies were taunting and teasing again, another round of showers to clean a different kind of mess away.

It felt…

It wasn’t safe.

“Where ya going, loser?”

Shanks’ high dropped fast, almost as fast as Mihawk climbed back into his fancy clothes. 

He didn’t want it to end.

“Sleep well, rookie. Tomorrow’s your last day.”

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

~~~

~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

“Can’t sleep without me, clown?”

“No, shithead,” Buggy sneered, and Crocodile’s deep laughter poured through the transponder snail until Mihawk felt an almost smile touch his lips. “You’re an agent now, and we’d like an update.”

“Of course, Mr. President,” he teased, though he felt heavier with every breath. “This very late night update is that I’m floating on the sea.”

“Where did you end up heading first,” Crocodile interrupted Buggy’s grumbles, and his lovely voice sent guilt coursing through Mihawk’s veins.

“With these conditions, I should make it to Majiatsuka by this time tomorrow.”

“That’s the, uh,” Buggy groaned in thought, with the sound of rustling paper accompanying his noises. 

“That’s one of the island kingdoms around Dress Rosa, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Buggy answered Crocodile’s question, while Mihawk stared into nothing. “It’s right here, but that’s– You’re not gonna check out Whole Cake first? And Germa’s creepy boats are parked to the east. Which suitor lives–”

“Mihawk.”

He couldn’t speak.

“What’s wrong,” Buggy asked, quiet after Crocodile’s rage. 

Until he found his own. 

“Are you fucking STUPID? We don’t have a plan! I can’t believe you, you BATSHIT CRAZY fucking asshole. I’m gonna–”

“Explain,” Crocodile ordered, that dangerous purr ending Buggy’s rant. “Why are you going to the estate?”

“I’m going near the estate,” the swordsman cleared his throat, grateful that there was just enough room on his boat to pace. “I’m sorry I wasn’t truthful, but I didn’t quite lie. I’ll still try to gather intel to thin the crowd, bloodlessly if possible.”

“You do realize the sheer amount of manpower between you, right? The fucking surveillance?” Crocodile’s voice was edged with that dangerous disappointment, that waiting rage. “Hells, he probably already knows where you are with how much the Marines–”

“I can’t take it! I can’t take another fucking second of this!”

Nothing but the wind in the sails. 

Nothing but his ragged breathing, and his heart that was too fucking loud.

“Mihawk,” Buggy asked softly. True softness for the man that had tortured him, tormented him, taken and used his lover like a fucking whore. Mihawk couldn’t understand the forgiveness he’d been given.

He didn’t need it anymore.

“I’ll try, I will, I swear,” the swordsman vowed, not sure if he was telling the truth. “But I need her!”

“Little prince–”

“I don’t want to force her. I don't ever want to force her again. I want to respect her wishes, and wait until we know what she needs, what she wants… but I don’t want that. Not really.”

Mihawk gave a hateful laugh, nearly choking on his self loathing, but his rage would stop spilling out.

“I want to go in there, and grab her, and slaughter everyone on that island! I want to kill everyone that’s ever fucking looked at her! I want–”

“Hey, crybaby, you think I don’t fucking want that,” Buggy fumed, death in his voice.

“That’s why I’m doing this,” Mihawk slumped, not knowing when the tears began. “You deserve her. I’ll try not to go in there unless there’s no other way, but I need to be close.”

“What are you talking about,” Crocodile breathed. 

There wasn’t enough room on this boat to have these emotions, and Mihawk had to clench his fists to keep from tearing it to pieces.

“I need her, but I’d rather she hate me than… I’ll be the monster, so you don’t have to. I think I can live with her hate if I know she’s with you. With someone she loves.”

Nothing but the waves. 

“The security is still fucking vicious,” Crocodile rasped, anger draining from his voice. “And with the suitors’ people, and Sylvad’s pet Marines… That’s a lot of armies to fight.”

“I’ll be fine, and she already hates Shanks, so he can do whatever he has to,” Mihawk sighed as visions of violence soothed him. “The two of us should be able to tear the place asunder. The Cross Guild will need to relocate if it comes to that though. Probably disband, and go into hiding. You can take her somewhere. You can take care of her.”

“Shut the fuck up, you’re not doing this! She wouldn’t want—“

“Buggy, I’ll try to wait,” Mihawk pleaded, surprised that he still wanted permission. “Please, let me be the last resort. Call me if something happens, and I’ll bring her back to you. I’ll be the monster. Let me… please.”

The swordsman could hear his silent clown, those desperate breaths echoing through the night air.

That silence dragged on too long, and he couldn’t get her broken laughter out of his mind. Her uncle’s threats that Buggy had scrawled and crumpled in his rage and despair. The wound she had dealt him when she left. How perfectly cold her eyes had been. 

Until she wouldn’t meet his gaze. 

“I think she was telling the truth,” Buggy whispered, hardly breaking the silence. “She wanted to go, even though... I don’t think she’ll forgive you.” 

“I know. She shouldn’t.”

“Are you trying to be selfish, or selfless, little prince? Because either way, you’re fucking doing it wrong.”

The swordsman let out his own broken laughter, ducking into the small cabin to find a bottle of red. 

“Listen to me, bright eyes,” his business partner urged. “If you need to be out there, then do it, but don’t do this.”

“Don’t drink and sail,” Mihawk asked, popping the cork to pour the fine wine down his throat. 

He didn’t want to taste it. To observe the colors. He didn't want to notice the hint of plums, or the lack of his little bloodhound that he had wanted to taste the world with. 

“No, don’t be a fucking idiot,” Crocodile sighed. “Don’t act like you’ve already lost her. You don’t know what you’ll be able to do yet, or how she’s gonna feel. Our sweet girl is fierce.”

“Of course she is,” Buggy agreed, a steady faith in his voice that Mihawk envied. 

He had changed too late.

“Don’t throw your heart away because you don’t think you deserve it.” 

His scarred lover had touched the truth too close, as though the grief in those words wasn’t just for him. 

“You’re not gonna find a way if you think you’ve already lost, so if you’re gonna do this, then quit fucking around. Find out what our girl wants. Get her back. Convince her to stay.”

“But—“

“And you’re gonna work with us,” Buggy cut in, sounding brighter, his rage shifted back to annoyance. “We’re getting my star back, and I’m not gonna let you take all the credit, asshole.”

The World’s Greatest Swordsman was drifting alone on his one-man boat again. 

Not so alone. 

“You’ll call me if…”

“If we need a monster, you’ll be the first one I’ll call,” his clown promised, bringing a wave of sick relief at the thought. “But this whole sacrificing yourself for our happiness shit is fucking lame. Can you try not to be so dramatic?”

Silence. Nothing but the water. 

Nothing until the laughter started. Warm, deep laughter at their tearful swordsman, and their dramatic clown that joined in with a snort before they all forgot what they were laughing about. 

“I’m sorry I lied, daddy,” Mihawk breathed, suddenly cold at the thought of sleeping. 

“You’ll get your punishment. Just fly back home, little bird.”

“And stop being such a dumbass, please,” Buggy groaned, sounding squished as though a massive arm had curled around him. 

“No promises,” Mihawk laughed, “but I will try… Thank you.”

The Cross Guild said their slow goodnights, leaving the swordsman on that quiet sea.

He drifted alone on his one-man boat, but this time he floated between his distant lovers, knowing that he had always been right. Love isn’t safe. 

Fuck being safe. 

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!

Author's Note: So I went a little wild here. Writing Mishanks' backstory felt like utter self indulgence, so I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did! I love all of our fucked up boys so very much 😭 Who's ready to make some sweets with Katakuri though? 🍩😏

Fic Updates & Extras:

Special thanks to the commenter who referred to Shanks' pants as "grandma couch patterned" a few months ago, it has lived in my brain rent free. I can't find the comment on tumblr or Ao3, but you have my eternal gratitude for making me snort every time I see him and his stupid fucking pants now 😅🙏🏼

I've included a timeline below with OP Canon and Numbers Game events in case y'all would like to see where all the flashbacks line up. I left out any events that gave away the Reader's age for those that don't want to see that, but I'll make a separate post with more details for those that do.

You have no idea how much I reduced this timeline, lol. My actual timeline is full of a ton of canon details since I plan to reuse it for other fics, and I of course left out the Numbers Game spoilers. I only brought this version up to six years before the current time because I'm still cleaning up the rest of my notes, but I'm happy to share more later if you're interested.

I apologize that I don't have the timeline in text format yet. I will be adding that soon since images aren't accessible for everyone. Please let me know if you'd like that so that my adhd brain doesn't forget!!

The vast majority of the canon details were compiled by the sweet, glorious, super heroes at the One Piece Wiki, and The Library of Ohara. I would be lost without them!!!! 🙌😭🙏🏼

I'm basing the Numbers Game geography off of This Map by xads181 on Reddit. It is absolutely stunning, holy wowzers! 😍

Do you know how little fucking time it takes to get between most of these islands? I thought my timeline was going too fast, but Oda really just had them speedrun their adventure while we take 25+ years to watch it. I love him so much 😅💜

Numbers Game Abbreviated Timeline ~ 6-52ish years ago:

I made this timeline using Miro if you're interested. It's got a free or paid version, and it's been helping me so much. (I completely ignore the AI (🤢) and collaborative features, but the mindmapping and such is just so good!) Writing this long of a fic with so much to keep track of was wild in my messy, poorly titled google docs list 😅

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @caniseethefourthsword | @hey-august | @chaoticqueen33 | @destinationmars | @novakitten0901 | @h0n3y-l3m0n05 | @dorky-birdie | @szired | @pinejayy | @laws-wife-things | @jadeddangel | @gingernut1314 | @urlocaltwink | @blue-rae18 | @bontensbabygirl | @bbnbhm | @0-sparkling-lace-0 | @ihearthazuki | @mikisspeak | @djloveyou3000 | @mercymccann | @horse-and-writer97

Part 34

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

[sinfulsalutations]

𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕚'𝕞 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 ⋆*･ﾟ 𝕔𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕠𝕡𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕖𝕔𝕙

➼ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ☆ ᴛᴇᴄʜ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➼ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ ☆ ᴀ ꜱɪᴍᴘʟᴇ ɢᴀᴍᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛᴇᴄʜ ᴀɴᴅ ʜɪꜱ (ɴᴏᴛ-ꜱᴏ) ᴜɴʀᴇQᴜɪᴛᴇᴅ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ ᴛᴜʀɴꜱ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ᴄᴏɴꜰᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ꜰᴇᴇʟɪɴɢꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ.

➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ᴛᴏᴏᴛʜ ʀᴏᴛᴛɪɴɢ, ʙʀᴀɪɴ ᴍᴇʟᴛɪɴɢ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ, ᴛᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ, ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ, (ᴍᴜᴛᴜᴀʟ) ᴘɪɴɪɴɢ, ᴅᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ, ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴋɪꜱꜱ

➼ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ☆ 4.2ᴋ

➼ ᴘᴏᴠ ☆ ᴛʜɪʀᴅ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ

➼ ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ ☆ ᴛᴀʟᴋ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ - ꜱᴀᴍ ᴡɪʟʟꜱ, ᴡɪʟʟᴏᴡ - ᴛᴀʏʟᴏʀ ꜱᴡɪꜰᴛ

⋆ ★ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴀᴄᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍʏ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴛᴇᴄʜ ꜰɪᴄꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ꜱᴜᴘᴇʀ ᴡʜᴏʟᴇꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴜ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴛᴀʟᴋ ᴛᴏ ʜɪᴍ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ꜱᴀʏꜱ ᴀ ʟᴏᴛ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴍᴇɴᴛᴀʟ ʜᴇᴀʟᴛʜ 😐. ɴᴏ ʙᴇᴛᴀ ᴄᴜᴢ ꜰᴜᴜᴜᴜᴜᴜᴜᴜᴄᴋ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜱʜɪᴛ ᴀᴛᴘ ʟᴍᴀᴏ

⋆ ★ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3 ⋆*･ﾟ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀᴍ

“Would you rather have to shout all the time, or whisper all the time?”

Her voice cuts like a knife through the emptiness of the cockpit. It’s abrupt, no doubt, but it’s a sweeter tune than the ambient noise of machinery and mechanics. Tech turns to the co-pilot's seat where she reclines, having stolen Echo’s spot when he decided to go with Wrecker and Omega off the ship and explore the planet. She’d chosen to stay with him and Hunter. The reason wasn’t disclosed. 

Her eyes are still glued onto the book in her lap, absentmindedly pinching a page between two fingers while her leg rocks. His datapad drops from where it was lifted to his face as he stares curiously at her image. He can feel his eyes strain; only then he realizes that he’s been staring at a blue screen for far too long. She’s much more soothing, he can conclude rather quickly. Everything about her is rather calming and softer if he were to compare.

“I’m sorry?” He asks softly. She looks up with large eyes and raised eyebrows. Tech tilts his head, probing with his gaze. “You said something, did you not?”

She nods and repeats the question, softer than before. He blinks, still unsure of the context. Her eyes flash away anxiously when he doesn’t answer after a few split seconds.

“I-I’m sorry, that was super random,” She backtracks, sinking back into the cushion of her seat. Tech gapes, panicking as he sees how she hesitates and turns away, and he chokes on his next intake of breath.

“No, no, go on,” He tries to encourage her in a bubbling stammer, leaning forward to grip the back of the seat; the action cages her in ever-so-slightly. She looks back after a brief moment of uncertainty, eyes still wide and wary. “I-I was just surprised. Please, continue?”

His words manage to fix any damage he might've inflicted before; a sweet grin appears over the twist of her lips. Tech grins and takes a mental picture of the scene in front of him, in order to go back and admire her when he has the space and time alone. 

He isn’t very certain where these emotions initially came from, and he is usually so certain about most things. All he can say is that suddenly, or rather slowly building up, he isn’t sure, did they emerge and take up the forefront of his mind. Now when he has nothing else to think of, his thoughts drift to her. The little things he’s picked up on and likes about her. Small details. Interests and dislikes. It’s quite unfamiliar to him, but it isn’t unwelcome. If only he knew how to express these emotions outwardly…

She blinks, slightly dumbfounded, but continues.

“Well uh, personally, I think I would choose whisper,” She says, shrugging. She turns and leans back on the chair. “Shouting, I feel like I would just become a bother.”

Tech nods.

“I agree,” He says. When she gazes back, he realizes the connotation of his words. He takes a panicked breath. “Not that you would be a bother.” He corrects himself. She bites the corner of her lip as she listens, and he looks away for a moment as he talks. “Just that it would be quite annoying if anyone were to shout all the time. And um, I would certainly choose to whisper as well. Though I suppose some might choose to shout… Someone loud like Wrecker, perhaps, or-”

Before he is caught up in his words again, she lets out a warm chuckle. He gazes up, watching her eyes flutter open and close; she turns and leans her chin on the crest of her shoulder. 

“Don’t worry, Tech,” She assures him. “I knew what you meant.”

He blinks.

“Oh,” he mutters absentmindedly. “Right. I’m sorry.” 

Her eyebrows knit together.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” She remarks. 

He shrugs.

“I went on a bit of a tangent,” He says, looking away. The datapad resting on his lap looks very appealing at that moment. But he doesn’t reach for it even as his fingers twitch and curl around his thigh. 

She frowns.

“I wanted you to answer me,” She says. He bargains with his eyes at her insistence before shrugging without much care.

“Well, yes, I suppose you did.” 

When she scoffs, a small part of him panics. But she looks so sweet, so calming and relaxed that it's hard to think that she meant it to be any part rude or mean. 

"Let's play," She says ardently, patting her lap.

Tech nods and tries to appear as casual as he can, even with an invisible pressure tugging at his heartstrings.

"Let's," He responds.

She smiles, readjusting her spot in her seat and crossing her legs.

“Hm... Would you rather always say what you were thinking," She begins, her gaze fixating somewhere else with contemplation in her eyes, "...Or never be able to speak again."

Tech watches intently and doesn't even look away even as she returns her stare back to him.

"Always say what I am thinking," He says, then adds confidently, "I already do that anyway," But he doesn't realize the lie between his words until afterward.

She blinks.

"You do?" She asks.

He flashes a look of faux gawk, acting as shocked at her doubt as best as possible.

"Of course," He tells her, chin dipping down and turning inward. "I say most things that are on my mind."

She frowns and her lips purse together; something flashes over her eyes that he isn't able to decipher.

"Right," She exhales, before leaning back again and breaking the tension between the two. Tech lets out a heavy breath, before saying something to free himself of the stress being inflicted on his head. Talking to her without appearing so infatuated truly is harder than he thought. 

"Would you rather give away all your credits or all your possessions?"

She perks up, eyes brightening the longer he speaks. He can feel his own heart skip a few beats at the sight. 

"I think possessions," She says once he finishes. "Because, well, if you still have credits, you can just buy them again."

Tech nods in agreement. 

"That does make logical sense. Though... what if one weren't in much wealth?"

She hums, looking away to the window as she thinks for a brief moment. 

"I guess then credits. Because possessions than would be important."

"I think that's what I would choose," Tech further explains. Without even realizing it, that pesky habit of his peeks its head; as he continues talking, he raises his pointed index finger to additionally assert his point. "Because our squad doesn't have lots of credits, to begin with. And we couldn't do without the Marauder."

"You could always just continue doing jobs for Cid," She interjects. Tech turns his head. She bites her lip and shrugs. "Y'know, build your balance back up."

He nods softly.

"Exactly."

She asks the next question.

"Would you rather..." She leans in closer to him, only her bottom on the seat now as the rest careens toward the pilot's chair. His eyebrows knit together; he's unsure if she even realizes how she tries to come closer. But he dismisses it; he decides to lean in closer and leans elbows on his knees. "...Fight a blind or deaf Jedi?"

He hums thoughtfully and looks away, but he can feel the gentle gaze she holds on his face. Tech inhales a shaky breath, and he internally curses himself for acting like such a mess.

"I don't think there's much of a difference," He says, looking back. He almost leans away from the surprise that surges through him when he makes striking eye contact. She looks so interested, so thoughtful, and unbearably sweet. He drifts away from her eyes and lower to her parted lips but looks back up again quickly. He doesn't know which one is worse to look at. "Either way, they'll still have a powerful connection to the force and be able to fight competitively even without one of their main senses."

Thankfully, she's the one to break eye contact. He has time to breathe.

"Oh. That makes a lot of sense," She says. Her hands fold over each other and on top of a knee, her legs crossing. "Sometimes I forget how smart you are."

Unknowingly, a pigment of pink dust over Tech's cheeks at the compliment; but she seems to notice. She grins.

"Thank you," He manages to chirp through his tightly sealed lips.

She nods, but it's more of a subtle dip of her chin as she mouths 'You're welcome' without much thought accompanied by a sickly sweet smile. 

"Your turn."

"Huh?"

She huffs playfully, leaning one side of her body on the back of the seat.

"Y'know, ask a question," She says. 

Tech blinks.

"Oh. Right."

He thinks for a brief moment before he speaks again.

"Would you rather... have a one-minute conversation with your past self or your future self?" He asks. 

She hums, putting a finger to her chin and tapping it once, twice, staring off into the unseeable distance.

"Hm..." She says, half genuine, but half to be silly. She drops her hand and points it in his direction, but not to accuse. "Will anything I say be able to affect their decisions?"

Tech raises his eyebrows, actually surprised at the question.

"Good question," He compliments her, "Let's say, no. They don't."

She nods curiously and sinks further onto her side leaning on the seat.

"Then my future self. I'd like to see what I get up to," She explains.

Tech looks thoughtfully at her expression, the way she appears so perfectly poised and relaxed while he feels anything but; itching in his seat, overthinking every single word he says, attempting to perfectly craft and construct sentences all to come off still as a blubbering mess. But he'll try; he really will, if it means he can spend more time with her.

"And if you were able to affect decisions?"

Another look that he doesn't know the origin of washes over her face.

"Past," She says. "I'd tell her not to do certain things. Fix some mistakes, I think."

Tech's head lifts and his mouth drops ever so slightly with the revelation.

"Ah. I see..." He mutters; when she only makes a small noise of approval and goes silent again, looking at him as though he should continue, he lets out a shaky breath before he lets out an unconfined thought. "...Like what?"

She shrugs automatically without actually looking.

"Don't know." Her hand comes to the cushion, softly gripping it without her gaze lingering away from his eyes once. The act is so strangely intimate, yet they're still about a foot apart from each other. "I guess I'd stop myself from entering toxic relationships or making bad decisions..."

He nods in agreement.

"I think I would do the same."

"Would you rather lose your vision or your hearing?" She asks almost immediately after he finishes his sentence, and for once, he gratefully appreciates being interrupted; the silence is hauntingly loud when he is anxious.

Tech thinks for a brief moment before answering.

"Hearing," He answers. "Sight is vital in my field of work. And I could always learn BSL."

She tilts her head, perplexed.

"BSL?"

"Basic Sign Language, yes," He says quickly. Her mouth opens and she leans backward, nodding with understanding.

"That makes sense..." She mutters; he is unsure if it is to herself or to him. Instead, he decides to ask,

"What would you choose?"

She returns to how she sat before and shrugs lazily.

"I'm not sure," She says. "Hearing makes the most sense, I couldn't bear seeing darkness all day. But I love certain sounds. Replaying them over and over in my head wouldn't feel the same."

He lets out a breath through his nose.

"I agree. I couldn't imagine being unable to see your face every day."

Slowly, as the words begin to pour out, he realizes what he's said. His mouth shuts and his eyes widen, looking away with a ghostly realization and goes dead silent.

Her eyebrows knit together and she frowns.

"What?" She mumbles, head tilting as she speaks.

"I'm sorry," He blurts, hiding his face in his hands. Kriff, everything is ruined, he thinks. She'll immediately stop wanting to hang out after this, and he'll have to exile himself in his bunk and never see the light of day again, everything has been ruined by a tiny slip-up that should have never happened due to his great intelligence- "that was extremely inappropriate. I understand if you no longer want to continue this conversation, I-"

"No, no," She interrupts him mid-tangent. He gazes up from where his face is hidden between his palms and tilts his head. She looks extremely perplexed at his freakout, biting the corner of her lip. "I meant that I didn't hear you."

Tech's eyes widen.

"Oh," He states, extremely bland and more of a placeholder for something else. But for a pregnant pause, nothing fills in the blank.

"I, uh."

She lets her bottom lip free from her teeth and slumps backward, loosening the atmosphere.

"-I just said that there are certain things I couldn't bear never seeing again," He finally manages to illustrate. The excuse isn't as eloquent and believable as he'd wanted it to be, but it is suitable enough. She nods and softens up again, crossing her arms over her chest far too suspiciously to Tech's comfort.

"Like what?" She asks.

Tech shakes his head and waves a dismissive hand, almost too offhand.

"It isn't important."

Her lips twist into something between a frown and pursing her lips at this. He tenses under her gaze. But she quickly lets it go, letting out a very subtle eye-roll he barely even catches and dropping her arms back to her side.

"...Okay," She says before gesturing towards him again, encouraging to ask him a question this time.

He obliges, though rather worriedly.

"Would you rather-" He begins, scooting a bit further off his seat to be closer. "-surround yourself with lots of people you only moderately get along with, or one person you get along with perfectly?"

She answers almost too quickly.

"Definitely the latter," She tells him, before adding a little shrug when she continues, "I already sort of do that."

Tech squints his eyes.

"Oh?" 

She turns away and hides her face before rubbing her neck tensely and gritting her teeth. 

"I mean, why else would I stay back with you?" She says.

His eyebrows raise and his mouth drops with the revelation. He bites his lip before he tries to even talk again.

"Well, I thought you might have been tired, or Wrecker didn't require your assistance watching Omega, or..."

She shakes her head.

"Not at all."

He treads carefully over his next words.

"So you enjoy my company?" He asks.

She looks at him rather obliviously, a mysterious look of bewilderment across her face, accompanied by a little grin.

"Of course," She says.

He blinks.

"Oh."

She bites her lip and stifles a giggle. She excitedly readjusts in her seat, awaiting a longer response. But he still sits there, slightly dumbfounded. 

"...I enjoy your company as well," He finally says, eyes brightening under his goggles; though he doesn't know if she can see clearly through the yellow hue they color over the brown hue.

She smiles.

"Thank you," She responds, softly and through pursed lips. He pouts a little.

"That's not something you should thank me for. It is simply a statement," He says as emotionless as possible, looking away to try and compose himself. But he can still feel her stare. It does not help his mission.

"Sure, Tech," She wonders cheekily, crossing her legs and leaning back. "Would you rather be your own boss or work for someone else?"

Tech hums.

"My own boss," He says. "The only person I've ever really reported to is Hunter. Even when we were under the GAR. So I've always had plenty of control."

She nods, leaning her head on two hands as she watches him talk.

"Yeah..." She says absentmindedly, nodding in agreement. He finally looks back at her. "...Though I'd feel lost."

Tech looks at her with a thoughtful, probing gaze.

"Have you ever not been part of a group?" He asks, genuinely curious. 

She keeps eye contact even as she shrugs and bites her lip anxiously.

"Not really," She tells him. "Always working for someone. I'm a follower by nature."

Tech mutters nonsense in curiosity at her response, looking with a strange wonder into her eyes. The certainty in her words was peculiar to him, something he hadn't seen with such a statement. It felt rather odd, almost out of character.

"How do you really know that?" He asks. Her head cranes in his direction, perplexed. 

"What do you mean?"

Tech frowns, looking away to articulate his thoughts clearly, before looking back at her again and speaking.

"If you've never been your own boss, you've never known what it's actually like," He says. "You won't ever know if you are a leader by nature if you just haven't had the opportunity to ever be one."

She raises her eyebrows and turns away, surprise etched over her face.

"...I've never thought of it that way," she finally says before looking back up with newfound clarity. Tech nods to show he's listening but doesn't make direct eye contact with her.

"Lots of clones have dealt with the same complex," he explains his understanding of the topic.

She hums softly from an opened mouth, nodding slowly.

"Guess I am a clone," She jests with a chuckle.

Tech laughs, and a rush of confidence surges through him with his next words.

"Yes, a very pretty one."

She raises an eyebrow, suspiciously eyeing him with disbelief.

"...Right."

And Maker, the insecurities drop in again as if they never left.

"Kriff, I'm sorry," he immediately blurts, waving a hand to get her barely lingering attention. When she looks back, he continues.

"I- apologize, kriff... if I made you uncomfortable, it was a thought that just slipped out-"

Suddenly, a warm melody against his body, she reaches over and places a hand on his forearm. Tech's grounded now and gazes up. Her eyes are soft, fully understanding and relaxed, soothing in a way that steadies his erratic heartbeat. She smiles when he feels him calm down.

"Hey, again, it's fine," she says. He almost looks away with the intensity of her thoughtful, undeservedly kind stare. "I'd like to hear it. You did say you always say what you think."

Tech shrugs weakly in agreement.

"I did say that, yes."

She grins and pats his arm one last time before pulling away, going back to her original spot and gesturing with her chin in his direction.

"Okay. Ask one now."

He thinks for a moment.

"Would you rather have to spend an entire year sharing a room with me, or Wrecker?" He asks.

She gasps.

"Oh, Maker...."

He laughs at her exclamation but falls silent again with a gaping mouth when she continues.

"You, definitely."

He almost reacts with surprise; almost. He's able to suppress the giddy squeak he wants to let out and instead raises his eyebrows.

"I should've picked a harder question," He says, making her laugh softly. He observes her; she still looks away and out the window, somewhere that was nothing even close to spectacular. Her eyes twinkle; but not from lights; she lights them up all herself.

"Would you rather," She begins; her head cocks back to him and an open-mouthed grin spreads over her face. "Have to help me organize my life into a routine, or follow Omega around with no way of stopping her roaming?"

Tech hisses in a sharp breath, shaking his head in faux disapproval. He tries to tease, tries to be relaxed and composed, the perfect example of a casual flirt. He's intelligent enough to know he could never truly be one of those men, but he can try.

"A difficult decision-" She chuckles at his comment. "-But you. Again."

She grins; it's more languid than before, casual but sweet all the same.

"I'm flattered," She says delicately.

His lips purse.

"You should always feel that way when I am around," He responds coolly. He turns away to keep his composure. He's also intelligent enough to know that if he were to look back, any semblance of control or simple understanding of conversation skills would dissolve once his eyes locked on hers.

Yet in the corner of his eye, he can see her head tilt.

"Why?"

He stammers, a gloved hand rubbing at his neck while he coarsely forces out his next words.

"Well, since I said that I usually say what I'm thinking, I must be showering you with compliments all the time..."

His eyes shut tight for a split second, wincing over an invisible punch to the gut. Every single word that comes out of his mouth constitutes him to cuss himself out. Berate his mind for being so flustered and clammy around her. Slowly, he peels one eye open and forces himself to look at her. Her eyes are drowned in confusion, but the corners of her lips slowly curl up with each passing second.

"Oh..." She finally mutters. Her head fixes back upright and she blinks once, twice, eyebrows furrowing with concentration. She's thinking, anyone could tell that, but he doesn't know what. She still grins, like a cocky, yet timid Cheshire cat. "...I don't feel that way."

It's his time to look confused.

"I don't compliment you?" He asks.

Her eyes flit away, then back to him again.

"Well, you do but..."

He shakes his head; her own outward confidence makes him feel less silly trying to act flirtatiously. 

"Then I'm not doing it enough," He asserts with disapproval. "I should keep to my word."

Her eyebrow pushes together and she lets out a confused, but charmed breath.

"It's just would you rather, Tech," she giggles.

Her words almost catch him off guard, but he manages to rebuke her quick-wittedly.

"It's important to keep integrity at all times," He says.

She giggles and leans back, pulling away from his striking eye contact. He winces internally.

"Okayyy," She says. She crossed her legs and folds her hands on top of her knee. "If you say so. What are you thinking then?" 

She beams at him, and so, he says what he thinks in that moment.

"That your smile is enchanting."

Her eyes widen. Immediately she turns away and covers her mouth with her palm, hiding something, perhaps the smile he complimented so genuinely, and shakes her head. He grins at the sight.

"I'm also thinking about how I feel so suddenly incompetent and unable to communicate when you're around," he says.

She snaps her head back to him, eyes timid and soft. He can see the smile and wrinkles in the corners of her eyes. He can't understand why she'd want to hide it in the first place if he said how much he liked it.

"Really?" She asks through her parted fingers, quiet.

He nods entirely sure.

"Yes."

Her eyes flit to his and away again. Wordlessly, she turns completely to face him, scooting closer so her bottom barely lies on the cushion. Her face leans in closer so it lingers over his like a hovering bird over a branch. It's teasing and terrifying, and he shivers when he takes a deep breath in.

She asks, delicately and wary,

"Would you like to hear what I am thinking, Tech?"

"Please," he rasps.

"How much I want to kiss you right now."

His mouth drops, and her smile widens. Bashfully she looks away, wiping her cheek as if her blush would disappear. He watches, still awestruck and positively frozen. 

"...Tech?" She asks. Wordlessly, he scootches forward. His breathing fans over hers; their lips are so close to touching, but he hesitates.

Is this really happening?

Really happening?

"...You want to kiss me," He confirms verbally, and she softly swipes her tongue over her bottom lip, nodding.

"I do," She says.

Tech doesn't realize he's leaned in so close until she finally closes the small gap. A wave of tingling warmth rush over his skin; he shivers pleasantly. Her lips are soft, so gentle, feathery light over his that if he weren't so enraptured he wouldn't feel them. She dives in further, tilting her head to the right to gain better access; his lips mold to hers securely.

This is heaven; he never wants to leave.

She eventually breaks away but doesn't move. Heavy pants fan over his parted lips as they both catch their breath. Her eyes are shut close when his flutter opens. Tech smiles.

"Was it what you thought it would be like?" He asks.

Without missing a beat, she nods with her eyes still closed. 

"Even better," She smiles through it.

Just then, a curse echoes through the cockpit. They snap their heads to the voice; Hunter watches them with disdain and a defeat that couldn't have been from the kiss.

"Dank farrik, couldn't you have waited for a couple more rotations to do that?"

"...Why?"

"Now I owe Wrecker two weeks of Mantell Mix!"

[averyangrypossum]

Ladies and gentlemen, may I introduce the

Flowerbroadcast AU!

Based on the two drawings I did of a fankid for the ship radiostatic.

The full-body one

And the one with both Vox and her

And now, I’m gonna tell you all about it and exactly who the fuck this little kid is.

Lotus is the daughter of Vox (as you can tell) and Alastor and is six years old. She was created shortly after Vox and Al broke up, oh yeah I should probably talk about their relationship status. Vox and Alastor, unlike in canon, weren’t only close friends but were dating at some point, mostly because Alastor wanted to manipulate Vox’s feelings to where he’d be more compilable but accidentally took it too far, and since Vox is a piss baby Alastor decided to entertain Vox for a while.

Was this relationship healthy?

NO!

Would Vox say these were the best years of his afterlife?

Yeah.

But anyways, in this au when Vox asks Alastor to “join his team” he was actually proposing and Alastor finally realized,

“Shit maybe this has gone out of hand” and breaks it off with Vox which leaves Vox heartbroken and with an incel breakdown. Now instead of trying to move the fuck on, he has our little darling Lotus, who he has trying to fill the hole that Alastor left.

So obviously having a child for that reason isn’t going to make you a good parent.

Lotus’ relationship with the Vees are as follows in the particular order.

1 Velvette: She does Lotus’s hair everyday and picks out outfits for her to post on her social media before Lotus immediately undos everything that Velvette does and just goes for pigtails and her nightgown. Velvette has wine aunt energy and is probably the only one of the Vees to know how to talk and get through to Lotus.

2 Valentino: Surprising I know, but Lotus doesn’t know what he does to his workers, she knows what he does for work but grew up with thinking that was just something normal since Valentino was never hush hush about his job around her much to Vox’s dismay. Valentino isn’t a big fan of children and doesn’t hang around her often, but sometimes he’ll draw along side her while bitching about a particular show she’s watching even though it’s literally made for kids.

3 Vox: Wow, how bad do you have to fuck up for a pimp who hardly spends time with her to be ranked higher than her own father?? Vox, despite making the conscious decision to have her, he isn’t around like at all. Hes a workaholic through and through, and mostly leaves her with nannies and Velvette. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t love her. Au contraire he loves her with all his heart and soul. Will give her anything except quality time. He uses her more of an accessory than a child.

Now how exactly Lotus was made is up to you.

A robotic creation Vox made? Sure!

Some voodoo magic shit? Yeah!

Some weird magic thing where she kinda just poofed into existence? Why not!

Mpreg? I mean, do what you wanna do ig?

Cuz it really doesn’t matter!

This whole au starts with Lotus running away from the Vee tower to explore hell since she's basically Rapunzel. She gets lost and terrorized by sinners until our deer Alastor rescues her. Seeing his chance to promote the hotel he takes her there where she is offered to stay there by Charlie when Lotus complains about how bad her dad is. She graciously accepts because shes only six but is going through her “My dad hates me and I hate him” era. Which I mean…I would get that impression too if I didn’t see my dad that much.

Wait my dad lives across the country…don't talk to me rn I’m busy dyeing my hair black and becoming emo 🖤

But anyways she stays there while Vox is loosing his fucking mind, and becoming more mentally unstable.

Meanwhile! She's having the time of her life with the hotel's residents and a new father figure who treats her well and pays attention to her! Alastor! Now Al doesn’t know she is his kid, but that doesn't stop him from being a better dad than Vox out of spite!

Anyways, thats all I have, for now! Stay tuned my friends~

[nethhiri]

Marooned: Chapter 23

Kid x FemReader x Killer

Warnings: Murder, violence, torture, gore, sex

Blood & (Rearranging) Guts

There was a giddy atmosphere on the Victoria Punk. The crew was bustling around, pushing canons, loading guns, sharpening blades. Your weapon, of course, was already sharp and loaded, but you wanted something else, which is why you were rummaging around in the kitchen. You hoped Killer wouldn't mind if you borrowed some things. It wouldn't take long to catch up to the Marine ship, especially at the pace you were moving. Kid ordered the Punk to sail at full speed once they were sure they were pursuing the right ship.

Back on deck, Minerva found you and followed you to where Killer and Kid were standing. Whatever their conversation was, it stopped when you walked over.

"Don't stop on my account." You leaned against the railing, looking towards the bow, which would be approaching the other ship any minute. 

"Well, princess, we were just sayin how ya shouldn't expect any of us to watch yer back," Kid started. "Since ya like to remind us that yer not a part of this crew so much."

Your eyes rolled at the pet name. You were the precise opposite of a princess. "Don't expect me to watch yours either, Captain," You mocked. "Try to stay out of my way, would you?" You patted his back condescendingly as you walked past him, headed towards the bow. You wanted to have the first opportunity to board. 

Killer caught your shoulder, leaning down to whisper in your ear. "Those better not be from my kitchen, darlin." His low voice vibrated against your ear.

"Nothing gets by you, huh?" You motioned for him to bend down again so you could whisper back, "I'm sure I can make it up to you somehow." You winked at him and continued to the bow.

You sat on Mini's back, waiting for your chance to board. The ships were close enough to exchange canon fire. It seemed like Eustass was having fun flinging their cannonballs back at them. You made a mental map of the path you needed to take to get to Giemsa the fastest. You figured Kid would be distracted by killing the marine grunts, but you didn't trust him not to kill your prey if he found him first. 

Finally, the marine ship was close enough. Your fingers tightened in Mini's fur as she barreled towards them, using the railing as a kicking off point for an extra boost. To say the men on board were shocked to see an enormous hog land on the ship was an understatement. Using their moment of shock, you tore through them to get to the stairwell. You didn't even have to ask Mini to cover you. That was a given.

Everything else was tuned out the moment you put your hand on the handle of your gunblade. It was slower getting up the stairs, since you had the low ground. Normally, a captain should be fighting with their men, but you knew Giemsa was a coward at heart, only fighting people he could overpower. You were saving your bullets, however, the task of getting up the stairs was slower than you liked, and you were an impatient woman. Luckily, the stairs were narrow, which lended itself to lining the men up nicely for you. You plunged your knife into the belly of the man in front of you until the barrels of the gun portion of your weapon were flush against him. The line of men in front of you fell to their knees as you pulled the trigger. Infusing your weapon with haki let you shoot through the lot of them. Now, it was a semi-clear path, you just had to climb over some bodies or push some over the railing. You heard the wails of them behind you as Mini also stepped over them, a few hundred pounds heavier than yourself. You really didn't care if you killed them or not. They would die eventually and they would die suffering. Maybe they didn't even know about what their captain was up to. That didn't matter to you either. Guilt by association. Your moral compass had broken along with your spirit back then.

The closer you got to Giemsa's office, the more your heart raced. Not with anxiety or fear, but excitement. Just thinking about your plans for him brought a smile to your face. That smile was incredibly unsettling to the marines that encountered you. The ones who fought you were unnerved and some were frightened away altogether by what they saw. You let them go. The Kid Pirates were behind you after all. You wondered which enemy was more terrifying to them. 

Mini had a blast barreling through the throngs of marines that were trying to defend their captain. Her coarse fur and thick skin prevented their blades from doing much harm, even more so because the wielders were pathetically weak. The boar would spear through her adversaries with her tusks and shake her head back and forth to fling them off. And if she didn't kill them like that, she trampled them. Clearly, she had a lot of pent up energy from being stuck on a boat, unable to run around. 

Walking through the now-clear hall, you stood in front of the door you knew led to Giemsa. Instead of kicking it open, you knocked in code. It was something marines did sometimes to identify each other if they didn't know who was on the other side of the door. Thinking you were another marine, you were told to enter. He was facing away from you, hurriedly explaining the situation on a Den Den Mushi. "M-mayday! T-there's Kid Pirates everywhere. They-" He was cut off as you shot the snail from his hand. Good. He thinks it's only Kid Pirates. He did until he turned around. Then, whatever state of despair he was in was multiplied tenfold as his eyes went wide.

"Didn't I tell you I would come back?" You sat on his desk, across from him, gun pointed at his head. "Lose your weapons, pretty please." He did as he was told, pulling his sword from its scabbard and throwing it down. "Good boy, now strip." He gave you a pathetic look. "I don't trust you to actually disarm yourself, so strip." You used your gun to point to where you wanted him to stand. "And bring your chair over here."

He slowly started to disrobe. "Y-you know there's other marines on their way. A-admirals maybe even."

You put a warning shot through the wall next to his head. "Shut up and strip. No one is coming for your bitch ass." Where the fuck are you, Kid? I'm not waiting. You bit your lip. Maybe you could just do a tiny bit of torture and then heal him before Kid comes so he's a fresh canvas. You tied him to the chair with his own clothes, save for the jacket, which you were now cutting your trophy from. As you shoved it in your pocket for later, there was a loud commotion from outside. There he is. Giemsa's eyes shifted between you and Kid as the red-headed captain entered. As much as you didn't want to share this moment, you delighted in seeing Giemsa's hope of surviving this evaporate before your eyes. 

"Took you long enough."

"I was cleaning up yer mess! Ya left a bunch of them alive!" 

"They were gonna die eventually."

"Don't ya like to watch em die though?"

"You guys are psychopaths!" Giemsa couldn't stop himself from blubbering out loud. It wasn't the smartest move, drawing the attention of both of you.

You took a small paring knife out of your belt. Kid laughed behind you. "So THAT's why Killer was in a huff this morning."

"I'm borrowing it." 

Kid's curiosity was thoroughly piqued. Usually he went for the big knives if he wanted to torture someone. "Show me what ya got, Sea Snake."

You lifted Giemsa's chin in your hand. "Since you enjoyed so much what was done to my face, I'll grant you the honor of matching." 

Before you started, you tore a few strips of fabric from his discarded clothes. With some, you gagged him, and with the others, you wrapped them around your left hand. With the small knife, you started to trace a rough outline of your scars, replicated on his face. He whimpered. "Oh hush. I haven't even started. Just wait until I get to your eye." You took the little knife, starting from his head, and went over the small lines you had made, cutting until you could see the silvery sheen of fascia. Gripping the flap of skin with your fabric-wrapped hand, you started puling and cutting at the same time, no easy task when your materials were struggling beneath your hands. The fabric in your hand helped you keep your grip on the otherwise slick with blood flesh.

A hand came from the side of you and tightly gripped Giemsa by the hair so that he couldn't move his head. You gave a questioning look to Kid. "What?! The faster yer done, the faster I get a turn." Kid watched intently as you skinned half the man's head. No question you had practice with it. There was a finesse to your work. Even after blood was dripping down your elbows, you never lost your grip. Kid almost forgot to revel in the man's torment because he was so lost in the way your hands worked, and how good they looked glistening in red-brown hues.

It was satisfying to watch the skin peel away. Yes, you were aware that it was pretty fucked up to be enjoying this. No, you didn't care. He had it coming. Briefly, as you held up the skin you had cut away, you wondered if you could mail it to Marine Headquarters, similar to what the Warlord, Trafalgar Law, had done. You smirked at your handiwork. Just as your face had been marred, so too, was his. Flinging the skin towards where Mini was waiting, you went back to the task at hand.

Your hand squeezed over Kid's, making sure his grasp was firm. "Hold him tight. This is the best part."

Kid felt his skin heat up where you had left a bloody handprint. The way you bit your lip with concentration and how your voice was practically a purr when you gave him instruction made his heart race. 

You grabbed the side of Giemsa's head that was missing skin, causing an intense stinging pain to him, though you barely heard his shrieking through your intense focus. Sliding your thumb up, you dipped it towards his eye. "I really wish you could live and learn what it feels like to have your vision taken from you, but sadly, you do have to die." Pushing your thumb under his eye, it was warm and wet. You maneuvered your hand to loosen the muscles holding the eye in place. During this, Giemsa screamed so hard you thought he passed out for a minute. Finally, his eye popped out, hanging on by the nerve. Wrapping it around your finger, you yanked on it. You held it up in front of his other eye so he could see it, IF he could see it, given that blood and tears were running down his face. "Mini." The boar had been patiently waiting in the background, Killer had been, too, you noticed. She opened her mouth for you to toss your prize into. 

Wiping your hands on your clothes, you let out a sigh. Even though it should have been the opposite, for a normal person, you felt a weight lift from you. This was a catharsis. "Your turn, Captain." You walked past him towards Killer. "Try to impress me." Kid growled at your remark and immediately went to work on Giemsa, choosing blunt force as his tool.

It was hard to understand the flayed man, though you could make out him asking why Kid was now his torturer.

"Cuz ya fucked with me and my crew." Kid had the man encased in various metal pieces, crushing different parts of him as he pleased. "And based on what I've heard of ya, I can only guess what yer plans were with my girls." You could hear bones break from across the room. 

Killer had his arms folded, watching the little show in front of him. "Nice technique." 

You were sharpening the paring knife with a small whet stone, also borrowed from the kitchen. "Thanks," you grinned.

The blonde was definitely displeased with your use of kitchen tools. "You could have asked if we had any knives specifically for this."

"Oh yeah, Killer. Let me just ask for your finest torturing instruments." As if that was the weirdest thing that you could have done at this point. "You barely let me have my own weapon. AND I know the kitchen knives are way sharper."

"Not anymore." His voice was softer.

"Oh my god. Are you pouting?" It was in his tone. Cute.

"Don't push it. I didn't have to let you take them." Killer tilted his head. "I was curious about what you were gonna do."

"I told you I would make it up to you." 

"You will." 

His deep voice sent a shiver up your spine and you weren't mad at his threat. A particularly loud scream drew your attention back to Kid. "Don't kill him! That honor is mine, remember?" You got closer to see what he was doing. You could tell he overdid it. There were shards of metal sticking out of Giemsa everywhere and he was nearly unrecognizable with swelling and bruising. "Come on, Kid!" You pushed him exasperatedly. "He's practically dead!" 

"But he's not!" Kid wiped his brow, getting rid of sweat, yet smearing deep red across it. "I held my end of the deal up."

"Barely." 

"So-rry I don't have fancy knife skills like ya." He feigned an apology and snickered. 

"Okay." You said, nodding irritatedly. "Then you're gonna learn." You handed him the kitchen knife, handle first.

Kid's eyebrows knit together. "Hah??"

You thrust the knife at him again. "Take it." He took it, an unsure look in his eyes. "Okay, now take the other half of his face off. You were watching how I did it." You folded your arms. Kid looked at you again and started to emulate what you had done. Killer had walked up, too, out of curiosity, to see how Kid would fare. 

Kid cursed as the knife created a buttonhole in the skin he had tried to peel off. After a few more times, he threw his hands up. The man had little patience. "Are you happy? I tried." 

"Uh-uh," you tutted. "You didn't want to stop before and you're not stopping now."A wry smile crept onto your face. "If I can't finish torturing him how I want, then you'll do." Before Kid was able to protest, you put your hand over his that was still gripping the knife, comically small in his huge hand. His arm was a lot longer than yours, putting you in a somewhat awkward position, pressed against his side. It was hard to ignore the smell of iron and sweat that radiated from him, not unpleasantly so. You tilted his hand slightly, "Your angle is wrong." The knife glided more smoothly, but it still snagged and punctured through the skin. Your usual admonishing tone was replaced with an encouraging one, "Too much force. Lighten up." You could feel Kid was tense under you. Your hand slid to his wrist and shook it until he relaxed. "That's better." You let his hand go, resting it on his shoulder next to your other hand. Once you saw he had the hang of it, you let him finish the job. Somewhat regretfully, you let go off his shoulder and stood back. 

Kid was annoyed at first, you bossing him around. He only tried it initially to stop you from bitching at him. So what if he almost killed the guy, you wanted him dead anyway, and Kid wasn't used to sharing. When you put your hand over his, though, his thoughts were instantly clouded. Even more so, when he felt the rest of your body pressed up against his. He didn't even hear what you were saying, more focused on how your words tickled his neck than anything else. Kid was only shaken back to reality when you grabbed his wrist to get him to relax. He felt you lean on his shoulder, resting your chin on it while you were watching his progress. It was either the adrenaline or the testosterone pumping through his veins, maybe it was just you, covered in blood, with your sweet lips so close to his ear and your nails digging into his skin with every stroke of the knife, like you were enjoying it; either way he wanted to sling you over his shoulder and throw you on the bed in his cabin. Now, he watched you. After he had finished, it was your turn again, even though the poor excuse of a man was hanging onto life by a thread. Kid's eyes followed your grinning face as you took out your stupid gun/knife out and pressed it to the man's throat. A part of him wished he was the one under your burning gaze, maybe with a knife, maybe sitting on top of him. Slowly, you dragged the blade over Giemsa's throat. Instead of the red spray that was typical, there was a sad, red dripping line. The look you gave to Kid was withering as you stood in front of him, yelling something about how the guy's blood pressure was so low it wasn't even satisfying. His usual instinct was to yell something back at you, yet all he wanted to do was tangle his hand in your hair and devour your blood-stained body. 

"Aw y'all look so precious torturing together," Killer was smirking under his mask, you could tell. 

You didn't have a chance to voice your rebuttal before Kid bounced a bolt off his first mate's mask. "SHUT UP, KILLER."

Killer couldn't resist. It was an easy taunt. And judging from the way both you and Kid went red, well, it was hard to tell since both of your faces were spattered in blood, Killer was sure he would do it again. Kid was so cute when he got flustered. Killer couldn't blame him though; you were something else. Killer tried not to indulge himself in thoughts of you too often. He knew you would be a fleeting thing aboard the Victoria and he preferred to take his time getting to know someone. Pretty much the opposite of Kid, who liked to get to know someone starting at whatever hole he could get to first.

It was dusk when the three of you emerged on the deck. You hadn't realized how long you had been in there for. There wasn't a soul in white remaining on the marine ship. The only living occupants were the Kid Pirates looting it for maps, gold, and food. I'm hungry. 

As if reading your mind, Killer asked his captain, "So are we going to feast tonight or what?" He was watching several crew carry kegs filled with some kind of alcohol, and crates of food fresh from the island you had just left. 

"Fuck yeah," Kid replied enthusiastically. 

As hungry as you were, you were not about to eat without washing the gore off. And you had some things you needed to get out of your mind, especially before drinking, namely Kid's scent and the way you could feel his muscles move under you. Both of those things were easier said than done. The first problem was every other girl had the same thinking as you, so all the showers were full. The second problem was that Kid was very hot and it was hard to banish certain thoughts you had about him, chiefly since you couldn't find a goddamn shower to quietly relieve that tension. 

You paced the hallway, waiting for someone to finish up. "Other people have to shower too, you know!" You banged on the door. 

"I know where there's a shower." You turned to see Kid smugly leaning against his doorframe.

You looked him up and down. "Not a chance." You couldn't take the bait that easily. You would never live it down.

He shrugged. "Suit yerself." Kid vanished into his cabin. He knew you would be back. After all, he had used his powers to turn on the showers and lock the door of the women's bathrooms. They had been long finished by now. 

You paced for another 20 minutes before giving up. Fuck it. Sighing, you knocked on Kid's door. It opened almost immediately, like he'd been expecting you. "Can I use your shower?" You mumbled.

He put his hand to his ear, like he was waiting for you to say something else.

"Can I use your shower please, Captain?"

"Only because I'm so nice," He held the door open for you. "Ya know where it is."

You expected to be jumped, but Kid was busy looking at something on his desk, maybe one of the maps they had stolen. Your brows furrowed. You shrugged your jacket to the floor, sneaking a peek over your shoulder. Nothing. You opened the door to the bathroom but didn't close it, undoing your belt and kicking your pants off, as you leaned over to turn the water on. You could see in the reflection of the metal faucet that Kid still wasn't looking. It was making you a little mad. You didn't necessarily want him to be all over you, though now you were a bit offended that he wasn't. What? I'm not hot anymore? Another thought occurred to you. Did I go too far? He's turned off by what he saw me do? 

Kid knew you were looking at him. He was pretending to look at a map, though he was actually trying to gauge your true interest in him. He was always the one that pursued you and sometimes under very dubious pretenses. But now he was genuinely curious. Did you want him? Of course he enjoyed when you struggled, because he knew you were into it, or you were eventually into it. After everything that transpired, he didn't want to accidentally overstep. It wasn't enjoyable if you weren't also enjoying yourself. 

Now, you were standing in the doorway, stark naked and still nothing. Your eyes narrowed. Okay. I'll get his attention. One well-aimed shot did the trick. 

Kid's head snapped up, finally looking at you. "WOMAN, ARE YA INSANE?" That was so close he could feel the heat from the bullet. 

"You didn't even peek at me!" 

Kid slammed his fist on the desk. "Gods, ya know I wanted to! I thought if I ignored ya, ya might put yer titties in my face or somethin! Not shoot at me!" 

You shrugged. Yeah that's probably what a normal woman would do. "I guess." You walked over and stood in front of his desk, hands clasped behind your back. 

"Don't ya fuckin act shy now! Ya shot at me and tried to seduce me."

A smirk tugged at the corner of your mouth. "I thought maybe..." You bit your lip. "I thought maybe I went a little... overboard earlier... and scared you off." 

Kid threw his head back and laughed. "Are ya fuckin kiddin me? I'm Captain fucking Kid! It was the hottest thing I've ever seen." Kid stood up and started to undo his belts.

"No. Stop." You walked around the side of his desk and gently pushed him to sit back down. "Let me." You slid down between his knees, a little too eager to get past the obstacles between you and his dick. He helped you tug his pants down far enough to let his cock spring free, sucking in a sharp breath when you spit on it and took it in your hand. You knew you would gag if you tried to take the entire thing so you focused on the tip and used your hand for the rest.

Killer chose that moment to pop his head in, since the door was wide open. All he could see was Kid at his desk. "Hey, are you gonna get in?" He said thumb over his shoulder pointing to the shower. "Water's been on for a while." 

Kid made some intelligible grunting noise.

Killer couldn't tell if that was a yes or no. "What?" He looked down at the floor, littered with your clothes, and back to Kid, who had his head tilted back. Killer was fairly familiar with that face. "You're gettin sucked off, aren't you?" He sighed. "Okay, well I'm gonna get in then." He started to close the door, mumbling about wasting hot water.

You heard Killer in the doorway ask Kid something, as you bobbed your head up and down. Remembering your promise to make it up to him for stealing his kitchen knives, you poked your head up. "You wanna join?" 

Killer faltered for a moment before slamming the door, making you snicker. 

Kid pushed your head back down. "Girlie, you're mine fer tonight. I ain't sharin," he growled, gripping your hair and making you go faster.

Your eyes were tearing up as his cock nearly made you choke every time he pushed your head down. Suddenly, he pulled you off him and up, pulling his legs closer together so you could comfortably sit on top of him. Kid was very obviously impatient as he grabbed your hips and pushed you down on his cock, filling you up in one swift motion. You buried your head into his head and moaned. His grip prevented you from grinding on him, which you desperately wanted to do, instead bouncing you up and down on him. With each downward motion, he was hitting your cervix. It was painful, but it was a good pain. You felt his tongue slide up the side of your neck, him moaning as he tasted the remaining blood and  biting at your ear. You yelped but returned the favor, alternating biting at his neck and licking at the blood that was dried on it, from his shoulder to behind his ear. "You're disgusting," you breathily whispered. "I like that about you." Kid laughed between panting and lifted you up, slamming your back against the desk, him hulking over you. As you cried out, he bent down and shoved his tongue in your mouth. Both of you sucking at each other's tongues and biting at each other's lips. Your hands found his hair and tugged him closer to you. He swallowed every moan you gave up for him. The way your thighs gripped him tighter and tighter gave away how close you were. 

"Hate me so much but yer little pussy can't get enough of me can it?" Kid teased. "Say it." Kid pressed his thumb into your clit.

"I h-hate you." You played dumb on purpose, defiantly smirking up at him. 

Kid growled and closed his metal and on your throat. "No, the other thing," he hissed through clenched teeth, clearly trying to hold out. 

"T-this..Nnnlittle," you couldn't think straight between his thumb rolling across your clit and the deep strokes he was pounding into you. "Fuck!" Your back involuntarily arched and heat filled your body, sending waves of shaking pleasure down to your curling toes. 

The rhythmic clenching of your sopping wet pussy drove Kid over the edge. He wanted to stay buried in it, but he pulled out and sent ropes of hot cum to splatter across your body that was so beautifully laid out for him on his desk. The only thing that would be better was if the blood was still wet so he could really make a mess of you and smear it together with his cum. You both stayed like that until you caught your breath. 

It sounded like Killer was done in the shower. He probably showered as fast as possible so he didn't have to hear Kid fucking you. Kid took off the rest of his clothes before slapping your tit and squeezing it. "Get yer ass in the shower. I'm tryna eat that pussy, too." 

He didn't have to tell you twice and soon your back was pressed against the cool side of the shower, both your legs over Kid's shoulders. His tongue and fingers were unrelenting as he ripped another orgasm from you. You doubled over, gripping so tightly at his hair that your fingers were cramping, toes curling so hard that they were cramping, too. "Ah! F-fuck! Fuck!" Partly crying out from pleasure and partly crying out from pain. Kid finally let you down, stabilizing you with his arm when your legs refused to stop shaking.

He taunted you, "Poor brat can't even stand on her own." 

"Shut up," you pushed his arm away. You started washing up, trying to get the dried blood out of your hair. Kid did the same. "Did I miss any spots?" 

Kid looked you over and used his thumb to rub away something from your temple. "What about me?" 

You looked at him with his wet, red hair plastered on his pale forehead. His appearance was so different without his lipstick and goggles. "Just your ugly-ass face." You flicked his crooked nose. 

"Rotten, yer so lucky I'm hungry or I would fuck ya until ya lost yer voice from screamin so loud." Kid squished your cheeks in his hand. "Then ya couldn't run that smart mouth of yers."

You giggled at his threat, turning your head to his thumb and resting your lips on it, playfully taking it in your mouth and coming off it with a 'pop'. "What are you doing after dinner?" Your lust-filled eyes slid up to meet his. 

When you both eventually emerged from below deck, everyone else was already deep into the festivities, and by festivities, you meant booze. Killer sipped through a straw and waved to Kid, leaning back in a chair. Everyone else was horsing around or stuffing their faces. You looked around and saw Heat beckoning you over. Next to him was Wire. 

"I see you're friendly with the captain again." Heat casually observed. He was doing something with a bunch of bottles half-full of liquid. 

You were surprised to see the marine ship still tethered to theirs. "Yeah, well, we were going over a map." You were certainly doing somethingover a map.

"Does that usually involve biting each other's necks?" Heat saw your glare and held his hands up. "Just askin. I don't know. I'm not a captain or anything."

Wire laughed at that.

"Fuck off, Heat." You laughed, touching your hand to your neck. You could heal them, but you really didn't care who saw or what they thought. Though you knew Quincy, Dive, and Emma would definitely give you a hard time. "Why is this thing still here?"

Heat was now stuffing rags into the tops of the bottles. "Every party needs a bonfire, Y/N." He handed you a few and lit the rags for you.

A grin split your face. "I see." You cocked your arm back and threw one bottle after the other towards the other ship. 

Wire and Heat did the same next to you and a few others joined as well. When the other ship was fully engulfed, the ropes tethering it were cut. You leaned against the railing and watched it burn. The heat from the fire rolled over your face. It felt good. One down. Two to go. You sighed. What would you do now? Leave at the next island? Stick around? No one had asked you to leave or stay. You were dragged out of your thoughts, no, literally dragged, you noticed. There was a purple glow and you felt some kind of metal around your center. Kid. He set you on a bench between himself and Killer. 

"Come sit with us, girlie," Kid slung his arm over your shoulders. "How does revenge feel?"

Killer set a mug down in front of you, complete with a straw like his. You took a long drink. "Feels even better with a lovely bonfire afterwards." The other ship was slowly drifting away. You turned back to Killer, who was taking things from his plate, like chicken bones, or other inedible scraps, and putting the under the table. You glanced under the table, already knowing what you would see, and looked back at him with a warmth in your eyes. Mini was happily munching on a pile of scraps that had been dumped at her feet, evidently placed there by not just Killer, but Heat and Wire, too, based on the cleanliness of their plates. 

Killer scratched behind his neck. "Seems better than tossing it in the garbage." Killer hated wasting food. 

You had wondered why Mini hadn't greeted you when you came on deck. Her heart had been swayed by chicken bones and apple cores. After eating your fill, you sat at the table and listened to Wire and Heat brag about who killed more marines. It was the most you heard Wire say so far. Kid joined the conversation, but instead of bragging about himself, he was telling them what you had done. 

"Ya should have seen it! Maybe the next one ya can show em." Kid elbowed you in the side.

Both Killer and you lent a sideways glance to Kid. Next one? 

Kid laughed. "She used Killer's good kitchen knives, too." He grabbed his friend's shoulder. "Probably only let her get away with it cuz she's got good-" It was your turn to elbow him. Hard.

"You talk too much when you're drunk." You got up from the table and went to find the girls. You wanted to hang out with them. If for no other reason than to avoid hear anything embarrassing come out of Kid's mouth. Just as you thought, they were unrelenting in their teasing when they saw the marks on your neck. "Whatever. At least I'm getting laid." You flipped them off. This started bickering between them when Emma was caught in a lie, claiming that she had, in fact, also gotten aid recently. Then Quincy started bitching about how there weren't many good options on board and she couldn't wait until they docked in another few days so they could hit the bar. You were in a fit of laughter as they started physically fighting, yanking each others' hair. You were all too distracted to notice Kid coming up and hoisting you over his shoulder. 

It was the best night of sleep you had had since the first time you had slept in this bed. You were tangled in sheets and covered in red lipstick. Black sheets were a wise choice when you went to bed in red lipstick all the time, you supposed. Kid was in a deep sleep, snoring the house down. How you slept through that, you would never know. You stretched out and finally noticed the reason you had woken up: Killer was staring at you from the foot of the bed. You sat up quickly. "Uh, a 'good morning' would be less creepy." 

He tossed a white piece of clothing at you. "Kitchen. 10 minutes." It was an apron.

You were still a little tired and sore from the night prior. But this intrigued you. You rushed out of bed, quickly washed up, and threw clothes on. Trying not to appear too eager, you went to the galley. "So am I making it up to you in this?"  You gestured to the white apron. 

Killer nodded. He walked up to you and adjusted the apron slightly. "Close your eyes." 

You did as he asked. Killer was a bit of a mystery to you, but you thought he was probably kinky. You felt his hands at your waist, lightly positioning you in front of the counter. He put something in your hand and curled your fingers around it. It wasn't what you thought it would be. You opened your eyes. In front of you was a cutting board and some vegetables. 

Killer was very amused by the confused expression on your face. "Get chopping, darlin." He started prepping some other things.

"What's this?"

"This is how you're making it up to me, line cook." 

You blinked at him. "Are you serious? I thought..." Your face flushed. The mood soured for you as you realized you would not be getting any morning action. 

Killer laughed. "You thought I was gonna fuck you."

"No!" It was hard to be mad at him when his laugh was so disarming. 

"You did." 

You channeled your frustration into chopping. 

Next Chapter

[whispering-radiance]

She’s here!! Meet Eiko — my rc9gn OC !! There’s quite a lot that I didn’t include in the short intro card — So if anyone wants to read more about her and this whole AU — I invite you to the “Read More” section :D

|The lore|

Eiko and Nomi were born into first ninja’s family before the sorcerer was sealed away— The whole clan moved around the land, fighting the sorcerer’s monsters and horrors along the way. While they both studied the blade, Eiko turned out to be more sensitive to spirits and magic than Nomi — Later in life, she decided to pursue the title of the greatest exorcist in the land.

She ventured across the land while Nomi stayed with their father. Both became masters in their own fields.

Days after First passed— Nomi was tasked to find another, who would become the next ninja— Not only was he tasked, he was also warned — That he shouldn’t, under any circumstances, be the next one to wear the mask.

Nomi was a good son. He always listened to his father’s request— but this one — He was sure that he would bring his father honor if he took his place.

After he put the mask on — It took control over him and forced him to go on a rampage

The reason why it happened lies in the material from which the suit was crafted with. Tengu gave his feathers to the First, yes, but it was simply to give him a chance of defeating the common enemy, not to give his clan the unlimited power. He warned him that this power cannot be kept in the family—

Eiko was called to town to get rid of the rampaging beast— She didn’t know who she was fighting— Until she struck the final blow— She gazed in horror at the body of her dear brother— Wishing to save him, she sealed his soul in the book he wrote— The ninja Nomicon — This was the day that tome became magical

She saved the village and it’s people but the act of killing her own brother angered the gods she worked so closely with — They cursed her to suffer the eternal life until the Nomicon was destroyed or until the Heavenly forgave her sin.

It was the worst version of immortality. Eiko still felt pain — She still bled, her bones could crack, she could fall sick. She also still could get tired, physically and mentally— In every aspect she was still a human, just one that couldn’t die and was forcefully kept alive.

She took a role of the one who chooses the ninja — She did it on her own for many centuries but after a while, she decided to gather some trusted people to help her with this task — Although, Ninja choosing is still pretty much up to fate

——————————————————

Besides the ninja business— Eiko has her own job to do — As an exorcist, she fights evil spirits and helps kinder one recover — She also chooses one person to fight sorcerer’s forces alongside ninja

Eiko and ghost of her brother, aka the Ninja Nomicon

More about Eiko

————————————

Some other things about this AU

- There is no limit to how long a person could be a ninja — They end their career after they become unable to fight; want to end their time as a ninja by their own choice; Or when they violate Ninja code

- The world is much more filled with spirits, demons, youkai etc.

- Nomi and Eiko don’t have a mother (I didn’t really think about her character/ and I also think she might have died by sorcerer’s hand— that’s why First would be so determined to get rid of him)

- I loosely took inspiration from the cowboy hat weirdo while making Eiko — but he’s still present in my au — he just joined the Nomicon delivery service later in the story

- Eiko and Nomi are adults— Do not ship them with any of the young characters— They are mentors and teachers, that’s all

——————-

I’ll be writing more about this AU one day — Until then, stayed tuned for more!!

[pwettylouis]

Bucky Barnes - Timeless

“On a crowded street in 1944

And you were headed off to fight in in the war”

Bucky made his way down the street, newly printed enlistment papers held tightly in his hand, the victory cigarette he'd been saving since he was eighteen pressed tightly between his lips.

"Those things will kill you y'know." Bucky looked away from his papers, fingers gently pulling the cigarette from his lips.

"Yeah doll, I guess they will." He flicked some ash on the ground, taking one last drag before putting it out with the heel of his shoe.

Bucky smiled down at the girl, admiring the blue dotted dress and pulled back hair. The soldier tipped his head and started walking, the girl walking along in suit. "So what's your name, soldier?"

"Sargent James Barnes, and what would yours be, doll?" Bucky spoke, folding the papers in his hand and stuffing them into his shirt pocket.

"All in time, Sargent" A laugh fell from her lips as she crossed her arms, head turning to look at the soldier. "When do you get shipped off."

The man took a deep breath, taking in the buildings and chatter of city as much as he could. "First thing tomorrow morning."

The girl let out a breath, looking down towards her shoes and watching her steps. "Do you have any plans for your last night in the city?"

A smile pulled at the corner of his lips, looking down at the girl next to him. "Well, I'd love spend it seeing a flying car, a real glimpse into the future."

Barnes stopped, tipping his head to look down at her. "And I'd love if a beautiful lady came with me." The girl had a smile, rubbing her arms up and down.

"The Stark Expo?" She questioned, a smile on her face as she avoided his gaze. "You really know how to impress a girl."

With a smile, Bucky pulled the pen from his shirt pocket . "Can I get an address?" He pulled the cap off, holding it between his teeth as he angled the ink to the back of his hand.

"I'll meet you at the Stark Expo." She said with a smirk, backing away from the soldier and joining the rest of the city.

His fingers grabbed the cap, watching her leave him in confusion. "What about the time?" He called out, voice raising due the distance she'd put between them.

"8:30!" She called out before turning around and blending into the crowd, a soft smirk on her lips.

"Can I at least have your name now?" Bucky called out, trying to look for her in the crowd of people, mentally scolding himself for losing the girl in the people.

Bucky listened as she hummed a soft tune, one hand spinning her around and the other holding her shoes. She'd begged to go dancing, the Stark Expo being a bust after about an hour.

She tried to get Bucky to stay out longer, saying "Just one more hour, please!" The begging had worked the first time, and second and almost every time after that. Before they knew it, they'd been out for almost five hours.

Finally he had convinced her to get home, walking through the empty streets as she spun and laughed. A bittersweet feeling sat in Bucky as he watched the girl, hating the fact that he'd have to leave her so soon.

The feeling filled his stomach more as she lead him to her house, a pain in his chest as the pair neared the front steps.

"Promise me something," She held Bucky's hands in hers, standing on the second or third to match his height. "Promise me that once you get back, you'll pick me up in one of those flying cars we saw tonight."

"Who would I be to deny that?" He gently handed her the shoes, watching as she ducked her head to wipe a tear.

"Don't cry, I'll be back before you know it." His thumb smoothed over her cheek, smiling down at her before pressing his lips to her cheek. "Go get some sleep, doll. You need it after all that dancing."

"Goodnight, Sargent."  She sighed, turning around and walking to her front door, looking back one last time before closing the door.

Shuffling the envelopes in her hands, the girl let out a long sigh. Bills, News, Letter, bills. She stopped in her tracks, a letter?

She took all the other junk mail and threw it on the table, sitting herself down in a chair and tearing open the envelope.

Her fingers carefully unfolded the page as she scanned over the writing, a smile forming on her lips.

"Hey doll, I'm sorry I haven't written sooner, you'd never believe how crazy it is here. I've stopped smoking, all the guys said you must be real special if I quit, but like you said, those things will kill you. How has Stark come along with those cars? I hope you've had your eye one, they're hoping the war will be ending soon, very soon, and when it does i’m going to buy one of those cars and drive you everywhere, show you everything. I’ve missed you, I hope to see you soon.

- James"

She read the letter about 10 times that afternoon and maybe 50 times that night, practically memorizing every word with a bright smile.

As the weeks went on, she'd receive and memorize every letter sent. She pray every night for the war to be over and for James to come home safe, even asking others to keep him in their prayers.

Wednesday, 1:58 PM. She pulled open her mailbox with a smile, ready to read her new letter and hear all about James adventures and his friends. Her smile fell, no letter, no anything.

With her lips pressed tightly together, she shut the mailbox and made her way inside. A feeling of anxiety grew deep in her stomach, ‘no, no, no’ she shook her thoughts away. James would be fine and he would come home, she had no reason to worry.

Until the next week when she still didn’t receive a letter. And the week after that, and the week after that.

A month. One whole month and no new letters. Every night she'd read the same letters that she knew word for word and prayed for a new one the next day, even if she knew better.

Wednesday, what used to be her favorite day of the week, seemed to just drag on. she’d check her mailbox, setting herself up for disappointment as she scolded herself for being a foolish one.

Like always, she pulled the mailbox open, expecting emptiness like the weeks before. She expected it too much that she almost missed it. Her eyes widened, a letter.

Her hands reached for the envelope, tearing it open and unfolding the paper. A smile graced her face, small tears of happiness forming in the corners of her eyes as she read. 

"Doll, I know I've not written you in weeks, I'm sorry. I might not write again for awhile but i do not want you worrying, I can't say too much but I promise I will come home soon. I’ll come pick you up in one of those cars you like so much and we’ll go dancing all night, we’ll go dancing for days if you want, anything.

I’ll see you soon,

love, James.”

Air was caught in her throat as she read his letter, hugging it to her chest. She didn’t care if he never wrote her again, she was just happy he was still alive and coming home to her.

Three weeks later at 1:58 PM the girl stood in front of her mailbox, a smile on her face as she saw one of those familiar envelopes. Something was different, James familiar handwriting, that she’d spent time memorizing, was not on the front. Instead, it looked like it been typed out by some officials.

She carefully opened the envelope, a sinking feeling in her stomach. Her mouth opened, she felt tears forming in her eyes as blood pumped through her head.

James was not coming home in a flying car, he was not taking her out to dance for days. James was gone.

| "In a crowded room a few short years ago

And sometimes there's no proof, you just know."

Bucky looked around, Steve had dragged him to one of Tony's annual party's, claiming "You need to get out more, Buck."

He knew Steve wouldn’t take no for an answer. So, here Bucky was, looking around awkwardly as people dodged talking to him. It was suffocating being in a place with so many strangers.

Bucky made his way out to the balcony, a thankful smile on his lips when he saw no one else out there. He pulled a crushed cigarette carton out of his pocket, digging and searching for his lighter.

He starred out at the night sky, the city skyline being so bright against the darkness. Taking a drag from his cigarette, tilting his head down to the ground.

"Y'know those can kill you." Bucky jumped, turning around and seeing a girl behind him. She smiled up at him, moving to lean on the balcony railing next to him, Bucky eyed her dark blue dress.

"Yeah, I guess they could." He pulled the cigarette from between his lips and tapped it against the railing before stepping on it, looking back at the girl. “What’s your name?”

She smiled at him and turning towards the dark skyline, “Y/n. What’s yours?”

“Bucky.” He looked out at the city with her. The two of them sitting in silence for a moment, a cool night breeze blowing past.

“Do you want to go dance?” He heard her voice cut through his thoughts. She smiled at him, looking inside to see people dancing happily.

Bucky smiled, something about it, something about the girl, something about the scene, it felt right. “Of course, doll.”

| You still would’ve been mine we would’ve been

timeless

[dungeon-meshi-tournament]

Seaworthiest Ship in the Dungeon Tournament 2024 Funny Comments

Doing a shipping tournament inspired a lot of comments from you guys, many of which I found funny. So here's a selection of the funniest comments I got, sorted by the poll they were left on.

Namarcille vs Falin x Shuro (round 1 part 1) harold theyre lesbians. three Lesbians and a clueless Straight Man

Marcille x Touden siblings vs Namari x Kaka & Kiki (round 1 part 1) What's better than two long sexy legs? Four long sexy legs and bisexuality!

Marcitsumi vs Laios x Thistle (round 1 part 1) im sorry i can't say no to anything that results in Laios bondage sorry

Marios vs Island governor x Shadow governor (round 1 part 1) Who's shipping heterosexual shit in Dunmesh I just wanna chat Heterosexual ??? ON MY DASH !? No let me take the old man yaoi

Kakamari vs Kikimari (round 1 part 1) Flustering Namari is Kiki's true calling in life. The constant 😏 face

Maizuru x Toshitsugu vs Laios x Kensuke (round 1 part 2) 'sword fight' taking on a whole new meaning

Senshi x Chilchuck's daughters vs Otta x Chilchuck's wife (round 1 part 2) This is just the "torture Chilchuck" match up lmao sorry Chilchuck your wife has to fuck the hot elf dyke. the only thing stopping otta is that she has to be nearing 30

Canary polycule vs Labru (round 2 part 1) Narrative foils Yada yada. Laios is NOT interested in humans!!!!! one top and her army of bottoms. what could be better. mithrun is their pet fish

Farcille vs Laios x Kensuke (round 2 part 2) honestly this tournament is like my anthropology field. a good place to see dynamics of the fandom

Otta x Chilchuck's wife vs Senshi x Mithrun (round 2 part 2) happy Valentine’s Day chilcuck

Izutsumi by herself vs Namari x Kaka & Kiki (round 3) sorry izutsumi but leggsicule omfg izutsumi will be perfectly fine by herself but namari will have a mental breakdown if we fumble this ship for her

Winged Lion x Laios vs Labru (round 3) literal embodiment of lust vs guy who doesnt like the other guy

Kensuke x Ambrosia vs Kikimari (round 3) *to the tune of that gum commercial* “Long long leeeeeeeegs”

Laisen vs Cithidol (round 3) alright i know what i just said about kabumisu but cithidol is pretty funny too. worst couple you ever saw 10/10

Farcille vs Otta x Chilchuck's wife (round 3) farcille killing the joke ships out of thr bracket. its okay falin would love marcille if she was a worm. but otta would drop the wife for being 30 terrible day for lesbian dicaprio fans

Izutsumi by herself vs Labru (quarter finals) She must be stopped!!! She must be enabled!!!

Farcille vs the Flokes (quarter finals) I was voting for the old people to have sex but ok girls having sex is wholesome hope this helps. loser ‘hey kiki & kaka your parents are gnc as fuck’

Izutsumi by herself vs Kikimari (semi-finals) Rise up and dethrone God(izutsumi)!!!!

Kabumisu vs Farcille (semi-finals) There's no way Kabumisu can beat Farcille, but it's an honor to face them in battle 🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡 wlw on mlm violence

Izutsumi by herself vs Farcille (finale) THE REMATCH OF THE CENTURY two girls should win this time. not just one A ship winning?? On my celibacy website?? very aroacephobic of you to not vote izutsumi if you ask me

Kikimari vs Kabumisu (battle for the bronze) 5 women on one podium we can make it happen. mmmmm 5 women..... [multi-paragraph post with detailed pro-Kabumisu points Counterpoint: Leggggg

[ivryne]

. . . ⌗ the aftermath ! 🔬

genshin smau | scaramouche x fem!reader

THIS SMAU IS DISCONTINUED!! BUT THE REWRITE IS OUT IN MY MAIN MASTERLIST!!!!

synopsis — the aftermath ! After a drunken night that resulted in some late night endeavors, you woke up in an unfamiliar environment. Looking around you in search for any familiarity, you spot a familiar tuff of violet hair beside you, hidden beneath the heavy duvet. Realization blew you over as you finally connected the scattered dots. Did you really just sleep with Scaramouche, your no.1 nemesis and rival? Well I guess all we can do is wish you luck to deal with the aftermath.

pairings. scaramouche (kunikuzushi) x fem!reader

genre. romance, crack, slice of life, rivals to lovers, modern au, college/uni setting, age 20-21

warnings. misunderstandings, slow burn, mommy issues, fluff, 16+ nothing too steamy. timestamps don’t matter just ignore them

status. [ 22 / 12 / 22 ] — disc (ONGOING REWRITE)

NOTE. hellooo! I’ve seen genshin smaus all over tumblr and I’ve always wanted to make one and I finally got the plot todayyy aghhh. Ty for those of u who hav clicked this!! Hope you enjoy <33

(🍬) means there r gonna be written parts ^^

NOW PLAYING . . .

starring . . . mentally un(st)able | need help asap

AND ACTION !

act one — too late to back out

episode 01 : wat did u ruin again lol

episode 02: stupid girl

episode 03: why is this kinda hot??

episode 04: i’ll bring the snacks (🍬)

episode 05: brainstorm or braindead (🍬)

episode 06: kinda ship it ngl (🍬)

episode 07: meant to be ig

episode 08: t-truce

bonus episode: hu tao’s dilemma

act two — never settle for less

episode 09: you’re staring (🍬)

episode 010: boytoy

episode 011: the hot one?

episode xx : extra scaraname snippets

episode 012: oh how the turns have tabled (🍬)

episode 013: name’s adrien agreste era (🍬)

episode 014: a new face (🍬)

episode 015: it’s called overthinking

IMPORTANT NOTE !!

episode 016: one goal in mind

episode 017: what are u implying?

episode 018: ur not the one i like

episode 019: that was quite unlikely

episode 020: called it

episode 021: are you convincing us or urself?

episode 022: why r u like this

episode 023: i guess this is it

episode 024: i am living for this childe slander

episode 025: the things i’d do for u

act three — above average

episode … :

tba…

CUT ! show’s over 📽

NOTE. this smau is discontinued ! I will be posting a rewrite soon so stay tuned!

do not repost, share, or copy ! Reblogs and likes very much appreciated!! Ty for taking ur time to read this. I hope i rlly get through w this bc i’m so inconsistent hehe.

© 𝐬𝐡𝐫𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐫.

[chadfallout76podcast]

Major Update: Life...is a changing for me/us (and a sneak peek of Vault-Tec Rises!

Good afternoon!

I wanted to give you all an update on Vault-Tec Rises as well as an update on myself and some major life changes happening this year that may impact our season while the dust settles. Firstly, I'm more than halfway done with our next major feature length episode, "Vault-Tec Rises"...which is technically episode 16, set BEFORE Little Sanctuary of Horrors. It essentially is the story of how everyone came to be there in the first place, what Vault-Tec and the Enclave are really up to, and is the start of our last 4 episodes of the season as the Battle for Appalachia begins.

Secondly, I've shared quite a bit about the journey of these past 10 years with my husband Travis and his struggle with mental health. Many of you were kind of enough to support or share our GoFundMe to help take the pressure off the crushing debt we were under with mounting medical bills and his bills, none of which was covered by insurance fully. Trying to keep us afloat financially has been a long-term struggle of mine and here's in New Hampshire we just haven't been able to get ahead. After having to cancel some of his services last week as we couldn't afford them, we made some major decisions.

The next few months I'll be doing a lot of painting, landscaping, plastering and prepping to list our home on the market. Financially we can't afford to buy again for a while, so we're stuck renting. Based on what things are selling for in the area, I'm not too worried about getting out of it fairly quickly. We'll be moving to Texas, in between Dallas and Fort Worth in a really beautiful, new planned community where leasing and the overall lower cost of living will save us $20k a year which will allow us to not only fix our debt issue permanently, but also they have one of the leading centers in the country for C-PTSD. Once settled, I'd be able to get him more direct help he's needed that we just don't have access to out here.

Texas is going to be a big, big change for us...a huge move, but one I'm eager to make. Our backup editor is continuing to plug away at stories as well as I've had my hands full with work trying to keep the lights on (literally). I wanted to explain all of this with clear honesty so you know what I've been doing, what I'll be doing this year and why it often takes us so long to ship episodes to you. Your patient and support of me really, really means the world to me. The other benefit of this move is that once I'm not strangled hustling for work 7 days a week, I'll have more free time to actually create. Something I really want to do...as there are still two more seasons of Chad and some other projects I really want to share with you all.

I hope to have our 3-hour feature length Vault-Tec Rises completed in the next few weeks, so stay tuned. :) And if you can please excuse how hectic this year will be between selling and moving halfway across the country I'd appreciate it.

Much love to you all,

Ken

[spyderlondon]

Could you write some Gangle x Pomni? :v Fluff or Angst works for me, possibly even both for the anxiety ridden sillies :3. Canon has screwed them over content wise lmao, THEY STILL HAVEN'T INTERACTED </3

A/N: This is another where I see them as just sisters so it's going to be platonic ship- I hope ya don't mind! Still gonna be cute! Also, I'm gonna borrow @thescarletnargacuga's Raceway AU for this~

Ignore the bits of showtime, if you're not into it, it's the main ship in Raceway

Sisterly Bond

Gangle's kart went high up after accelerating up a big ramp in the circus track, everything had been going decently for her in the race- she even made it to third place! Until this jump. The wind whipped around her too quickly and a few of her ribbons flew against her mask, making it hard to see. That's fine, that's happened before, she can fix th-

SPLAT

Ink from a pen suddenly hit her in the face, making the ribbons become harder to remove as they became stuck, "No, no, no!" She tried her hardest to wipe everything off of her mask before she started falling but she was knocked down faster after another kart ended going on top of hers probably as a way to help them get extra height for another trick. She couldn't control her kart any longer and she ended up falling straight into the net below the course. She could hear someone yelling an apology to her from track but she was far too dizzy to notice.

She barely even noticed another kart hit the net a few feet behind her. It wasn't until a soft cloth was used to clean off the ink and a gentle hand removed the ribbons blocking her eyes that she saw Pomni standing in front of her with concern in her eyes, "Hey... You alright?" She questioned in a worried tone, "You hit the net pretty hard..." She handed the dizzy girl a small water bottle.

"Uhhh..." Gangle tried to answer but ended up moving her mask outside her kart and vomiting.

The racer with the red and blue track cringed while looking away when she her Caine pop over to her, "My dear, why'd you get off the track?" He questioned while tilting his head. She gestured towards the ribbon covered racer who was now just holding her mask outside her kart weakly, "...oh. Oh, Gangle..." He furrowed his brows in his own concern.

"Is there any way you can remove her from the rest of the race, Caine?" Pomni asked quietly as she moved to rub the younger girl's back to help ease her queasiness a little, "And if I could go along so she's not alone?" She requested, giving her boyfriend some hardcore puppy dog eyes that she knew he couldn't resist.

The AI frowned a bit, trying to look away from her and those adorable puppy dog eyes, "My love... you know that I can't-" He groaned loudly in defeat when she made her expression even more cute, "ARGH! Fine! Just stop giving me that look! It's going to be hard for me to announce!"

The jester-coded racer giggled as she strolled over and gave the pair of denture a kiss where his cheek would be which made him flush and close his teeth together before quickly snapping so both Pomni and Gangle would be back in the garage with their karts and the younger girl getting cleaned up.

------

Gangle almost tripped over her own ribbons before she was caught by Pomni, "Woah there... Let's get you to your room, huh?" She hummed lightly.

The jester waited until the younger girl was a bit more balanced before gently helping her walk towards the hallway that held all the doors to the bedrooms, "Bubble?" She called out while they walked.

"Yessss~?" The Bubble chef popped in front of the girls with his usual sharp grin.

"Could you put some ginger tea in Gangle's room for her?" She asked softly as she felt the young girl fall asleep against her. She made a mental note to make sure to let Zooble know how their girlfriend was feeling after they returned from the race.

"Can do!" Bubble popped away to prepare everything.

----

Pomni was humming a light tune to herself as she sat next to Gangle's bed while reading a book she found in the girl's room. She glanced up when she noticed her stir and placed the book on her lap.

"Where...?" The girl mumbled as she looked around, still a bit dizzy and had a small upset stomach but overall was feeling better than before. She paused as she smelled the tea on her nightstand- she took the teacup gently and sipped it quietly.

"Hey, you feeling better?" The jester next to her bed asked, trying not to startle to anxious girl into spilling her tea but had her hand ready to catch the cup, just in case.

Gangle was startled by the sudden voice but was somehow able to keep her composure as she looked over at Pomni's kind but concerned face, "O-Oh, it's just you, Pomni..." She sighed as she calmed down, sipping more of her tea, "Y-Yea... some..." She answered the question as the jester's hand moved back to her own lap, "Thank you for helping me... " She looked down at her tea with a sad look, "S-Sorry for making you get disqualified because of me..." She sighed sadly.

The older girl smiled warmly at her, "You're like a little sister to me, Gangle, I'm always happy to help you. No matter the cost." She responded.

The warm, caring tone that came from the older girl made the younger feel much more at ease. She felt like a burden earlier but Pomni made her feel cared for- like she had some sort of family...

[seraheart]

I kinda wish that the DetCo canon would do more with the fact that the relationship (I don't mean this in the shipping sense) between Conan and Haibara has been, or at least logically should have been, really strained for a long time.

Originally, they had this development where Haibara was really messed up, overly cautious and trying to force her maladaptive survival psychological issues onto other people, and generally not good at positive interactions. Then, slowly, Conan and the others started gaining her trust (not entirely though), and also her general mental health improved (never completely though).

But then it turned around, and started getting significantly worse. Haibara isn't really in a healing arc anymore. If Aoyama still took her seriously as a character (which, to be fair, I don't think is the case), she would be in a retraumatization arc. Conan and his allies are limiting Haibara's agency, invading her privacy, dismissing her concerns about all this, and pretending that this isn't happening while she can obviously tell that it is happening.

I think the really obvious turning point was the Mystery Train arc. Haibara even called Conan and Agasa out on it and stated that she wouldn't forgive if she were to be treated like that again. Instead of taking her hurt seriously, they just told her she should "be thankful", and dismissed her hurt as "tsundere", refusing to take her trauma seriously after using it and using her as a mere chess piece in their plans (and Akai even triggering her more by gloating about it).

Since then, Haibara has been trapped under the constant, violating supervision of these people who have demonstrated that they don't respect her, and also refuse to acknowledge that the problem even exists. It's not a situation where her recover arc could realistically continue. By all logic, she should be spiraling, getting worse again.

And maybe this is on purpose; Aoyama definitely didn't plan the manga to get this long when he introduced Haibara, and originally the slow-burn of her recovery was a good way to postpone a scenario where Haibara could actually trust Conan enough to give him the kind of information that would lead to the finale arc. But... eventually, even with the extreme slow burn of DetCo, Haibara's recovery arc and relationship development with Conan would have gotten to the point where her continued withholding of crucial information would no longer make sense... and, I guess, rather than start concluding the story at a humanly reasonable rate, Aoyama just opted to nuke Haibara's whole recovery arc and character and relationship development (not only with Conan but also Agasa).

Which could have been tragic but realistic (albeit kind of a major downer out of tune with the manga's usual tone, and upsetting to anyone who had been invested in the slow-burn mental health improvement arc), but then Aoyama can't even be arsed to take it seriously, and is now just pretending that the situation with Haibara and her relationships with Conan and Agasa are still "normal" instead of FUBAR.

It's regrettable and really shows how much everyone dragging out this franchise to milk it for more money just... doesn't actually care about the story anymore, hasn't in a long time. They'll eventually just kill central, fan-favorite, long-running story arcs rather than actually letting them conclude or evolve in a satisfying manner if that would mean risking their precious status quo (which has warped beyond all recognition anyway, so I'm not sure why they bother).