#this is how that scene went right? >;]c

[sixohsixoheightfourtwo]

The Ultimate Sterek Supercut - on vimeo

[luveline]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐨𝐬

Aaron sets the record straight when an overheard conversation convinces you that you’re not good enough for him. 5k

c: fem, hurt/comfort, fluff, suggestive theme (non-graphic implied sex scene). hotch is a good husband. requested here  

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“Honey, this is Clint McMoore. We went to college together.”

You step into Aaron’s side. Clint McMoore is a handsome older man with silvering hair and a beard that looks out of control. His bowtie is loose around his neck, and his cheeks are blotchy with drink, but Clint smiles at you and offers his hand. “How do you do?” he asks. 

“Quite well, thank you.” You’ve been practising fancy dinner talk with Aaron’s friend Emily for weeks. She has all the political background you’d needed to see yourself into the culture. “It’s nice to meet one of Aaron’s school friends.” 

“While you still can,” Clint says with a chuckle. Something about being in your forties is obscene to these men, as though death waits for fifty candles to snuff them out. 

“Clint and I were in the Student Theatre club together, our first year.”

You grin, smile laced with teasing. Each time you’re reminded of Aaron’s young interest in drama, you have to focus very hard on not laughing; the Aaron who has his hand to your shoulder isn’t one you could envision on stage. “Did you perform together?” you ask. 

“Saturday Night Fever,” Clint says. 

They laugh and reminisce. You find these sorts of events hard to keep up with, but you come when Aaron asks because he so rarely asks you for anything. He hasn’t mentioned knowing that you don’t like coming, But perhaps he hasn’t noticed —it’s not like you to frown, not when you’re with Aaron. The way he treats you, he probably thinks you’re the happiest girl in the world. 

There’s a contentedness to be found when he touches you. He spreads a hand against your lower back and you let yourself sink into his side, curled into his embrace and amazed at the giggly laugh he lets out as Clint brings up the ‘King of the River’ tattoo Aaron has hidden beneath his shirt. You’re tempted to kiss his cheek.

Clint asks, “Isn’t that right?” and forces you back into the conversation. 

You’re wearing a dress you panicked over for days. It’s black, cut playfully just above your knees with small petal sleeves. Your necklace is of a delicate chain and a not so delicate pearl —a black Tahitian South Sea pearl that glows pink and green in the light. For you, Aaron wrote, his pretty scrawl inky across a square of scalloped card from atop the box. I’m in love with you. Forgive me for not having the courage to tell you in person. 

Your Aaron is quiet. Some days he comes home from work and doesn’t manage more than a sentence. Some days he can barely speak at all. But there are nights when he holds you to hold you and talks in murmurs against your ear, and he’s good at making calls when he’s away. Talking or not, smiling or otherwise, Aaron finds a way to let you know he loves you, and that’s all you care about. 

“Excuse us,” Aaron says, giving Clint a rare, warm smile, “I’m being flagged by my boss.” 

Sure enough, Erin Strauss is beckoning Aaron with a strange pained look.

“Nice to meet you,” you say quickly to Clint. He repeats your goodbye, and you and Aaron swerve around him. 

“He was nice,” you murmur. 

“Yeah, he’s okay.”

“How come you fell out of touch?” 

“Oh, you know how things go, honey, you forget all the people you meet and make room for new ones.” He kisses your cheek. “And besides, he used to gossip like my mother. Why don’t you go find JJ?” 

“You’ll be alright?” 

“No, maybe not.” He squeezes your elbow quickly. “Go, find some hors d’oeuvres, at least.”

You find neither JJ nor finger foods. The gala you’re attending is being held in a hotel in the richest part of D.C, and the events hall is huge. The ceiling is a fantasy, glass and miles upward, overhead chandeliers dangling lower, dousing the crowds below in a light that’s clean. The rich and powerful gather at the edges of the room, though the performance toward the back of the room is watched by a few tens of couples with flutes of champagne held in gloved hands. 

You hadn’t worn gloves. Hadn’t thought about it until you got here. Honestly, you felt grateful enough that JJ texted you to tell you to buy a shawl; if you weren’t wearing one you’re sure you’d feel bare. 

What you’re lacking in fancy is made up for by your earnestness, or so you’d like to believe. You aren’t rich nor powerful, but Aaron’s a good man and you his good wife. You work hard, which is more than some of the richest in the room can say. You hold your head high without a second thought. 

The hall is confusing. Tables are set but you aren’t sure Aaron said anything about a dinner service. Wait staff carry silver platters and hold bottles of champagne, but each time you approach one they seem to have already headed in another direction. JJ and Derek are both supposed to be here tonight, but you haven’t seen either of them since you arrived. You cast your gaze for Derek’s figure, searching for an easy gait and a strong set of shoulders. You cock your head waiting for a hint of JJ’s practised, polite laughter, but any familiar signs are gone. You can’t even find Aaron anymore, and your shoes are pinching your toes.

Disaster. You should’ve listened to Aaron when he told you to size up, just you doubted his knowledge of ladies shoes considering how rarely he wears them. Stupid man, you think to yourself, lovingly yet ruefully as you sit down at one of the uninhabited tables to the very side of the room. Knows everything. Tonight, you’ll limp back to the car and he won’t bother saying I told you so, he’s too good for it, which is worse. He’ll give you one of his amused smiles. He might offer you a massage. 

Ridiculous man, you further to yourself, biting back a cheesy smile as you peel your shoe from a sore foot. If you shove your hand deep enough into the toe you can stretch them out a little. 

“Darling.” 

You look up. Clint McMoore’s resurfaced just a table away with his back to you. A sweet-faced woman with brown hair sits adjacent to him, her shoulder under Clint’s hand. 

“You’ll never guess who I just bumped into,” he says. 

Me, you think. 

“Aaron Hotchner and his new wife.” 

“You didn’t,” the woman says. 

“I knew you’d be envious of that,” he laughs. “Charlotte, she’s unbelievable.” 

Your stomach does a strange flip. He’ll say something nice, you insist, but you know his tone is a precursor for gossipy nonsense. 

“I’ve never seen such a mismatched pair,” he says. 

Charlotte rolls her eyes at him. “Well, what were you expecting? They were married after six months of knowing one another. I couldn’t so much as tolerate you until our first anniversary.” 

“Hardy-har.” 

“What’s wrong with her, then?” Charlotte asks. 

“Nothing like that, Charlotte. She seemed perfectly pleasant–”

“But?” 

“But, she’s nothing like Aaron’s usual woman.” 

“Hm, I said as much when we saw their wedding photos.“ They both laugh. “It’s not like she had much of a chance. First Haley, and then that Beth, the designer, she’s in Milan now–”

“He seems rather besotted, in any case,” Clint says. “Very lady and the tramp.” 

“Gentleman and the tramp.” 

“Don’t be cruel, Charlotte.” 

You know in a way that Charlotte is kidding, but you boil up with anger the moment you recognise what it is they’re implying. Then they laugh, and your anger quickly finds itself taking a crueller shape. 

You slip your foot back into your shoe slowly. Your throat feels dry and then warm, like a crux of smouldering coal stuck in your windpipe as you stand, jerkily, hand stiff where it holds your weight on a silken tablecloth. 

You blink and stare at the floor. It’s marble. It’s shot through with dark veins like a drop of ichor in water. 

What the fuck? 

You aren’t sure why you’re leaving the hall until you’re walking down the steps of the hotel and turning along the skirts of a hedge. A low brick wall lies in front of it, just short enough to sit on with your heels. Your coccyx stings with the force of how hard you go down. 

Your head races with hurt feelings. 

You’re not unaware of your husband’s past loves. It comes as no surprise to you that people regard Haley and Beth highly —Haley was extremely beautiful and veritably brave, intelligent, kind-hearted. Beth was funny, Aaron said, and not too much else. Being a designer in Milan hasn’t been mentioned before, but it’s impressive. They’re both impressive, and– and his usual woman. 

You rub the starchy stockings stretched over your knees. 

What had they meant by usual woman?

Mismatched? 

It hadn’t felt mismatched when Aaron asked you to marry him. It wasn’t six months after knowing one another as Clint’s wife suggested, but it wasn’t much more than that. He proposed to you after eight months together, and you were married two months later, which is incredibly fast to some people but it just hadn't felt fast when he asked. It was exciting —it still is. 

“Would you marry me, if I asked you to?” he’d said, some seven months after you’d agreed to be his girlfriend. Your head in his lap, his fingers rubbing at the soft skin of your nape. A sleepy Sunday morning like any other, you suppose that was a proposal in itself, but you hadn’t realised that when you murmured, “Yeah, handsome. I would.” 

You thought it was just love. Making innocuous comments about the future is part of falling in love. It’s terrifying to tell someone that you’d like to live life in their lap, but you tell them, and they tell you to go ahead if you’re lucky. 

He asked you to get married a few weeks later. “I had to talk to Jack,” he explained, “or I would’ve asked you then and there.“

You’re a wife suddenly, a step-mother, a partner. Aaron would’ve sold the house and bought you a new one if you wanted him to, but you like his life. You’ve always felt like you fit right in. 

Angry again, you scrub at your knees with itchy palms and practise how you’re going to tell Aaron about his cruel friend. Gossipy was right, what a lark, and you’re not perfectly pleasant, you’re a delight, you hadn’t said one bad word to Clint and you didn’t deserve to be whipped and twisted into a bad joke between sips of Cristal. 

Your eyes burn with the injustice of the thing. 

Rawness overtakes. A thudding in your chest turns painful, neck wrought with tightness as you hang your head. Hiding from the cold air. November brings with it a promise of chapped lips the longer you stay there, biting into your thighs as your hands turn stiff with disuse. 

She was unbelievable. 

“Y/N!” The shout is sharp. You’ve never heard Aaron’s voice at that level or with that level of formidability, carrying from the bottom of the hotel stairs. You twist in shock on the wall and watch in real time as his face fills with relief. “Honey,” he says, calling but not half as scary as he jogs to you, “are you alright?” 

“What?” 

“You scared me,” he insists, bending down to hold your shoulders. “Nobody’s seen you for the last fifteen minutes, sweetheart, we talked about this. You can’t just disappear, you left your purse on the table, I thought something happened to you.” 

You startle at his scolding. “I–”

“You should feel my heart.” 

“I didn’t mean to come out here.” 

“I wish you would’ve let somebody know,” he says. His frown softens slowly, but the concern around his eyes remains. “What?” he asks. 

“Sorry.” 

His eyes finally soften. “No, I’m sorry. It’s alright, I just worry when you’re not with me.” 

“That’s romantic.” 

He holds your cheek, pulling you in, and gives you two gentle kisses. Your lips part instinctively to receive them. “We’ll get our things and go home. It looks as though dinner isn’t happening.” He smiles. “Why were you out here?” 

“Scavenging for food.” 

That gets a laugh out of him, and another nice kiss. “You tried your best.” 

—

Aaron takes you home, and when dinner’s been cleared away, when you’ve showered and he’s undressed, he pulls you toward the bed and kisses you warmly. His eyes track from your face to the tucked corner of your towel, a silent Can I?

You let him take it off. He lays you out, and for a while you’re only his. His wife, his half, his to tease and turn and delight. He says “Beautiful,” against your thigh, says, “Honey, is that okay?” says, “Please, I’ve got it, I have you, just let me have you…” 

After, he tells you he loves you, his voice still ever so slightly high in contrast to usual dulcet tones. 

“I love you, too,” you say. 

His breath comes fast. Your lap is a mess he’d wiped as clean as he could manage, the memory of him bearing down on you yet to fade. He lies on his stomach beside you with his arm over yours, his face turned into you, his nose on your cheek. 

“Are you alright?” he asks softly. “You feel tense.”

“Mm.” 

“No, did I hurt you? You’re rigid.” His hands fret a line down the side of your chest. “You didn’t…” 

You hadn’t said anything, because he really hadn’t hurt you. But the thoughts you’re having now are intrusive —am I okay? you think. Do I measure up? He’s never made any indication that you’ve let him down, not in sex or anything else, but you’re unbelievable. 

You swallow a lump. “Sorry,” you say, the lingering ebbs of pleasure twisting into tears faster than you can stop it. 

“Are you crying?” he asks under his breath. 

You suck in a breath as he pushes onto his hands. 

“These aren’t good tears,” he says. 

He’d know. They’re not. 

Aaron reaches over you to turn on the lamp on the nightstand before settling, his hand cupping your waist. It’s too much suddenly, too bare, he’s too much to look at as you squeeze your eyes closed. “Sorry,” you squeeze out. 

“What did I do?” he asks, holding you carefully. “Please, sweetheart, what’s hurting? I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s not you.” 

“But something does hurt?” 

“No, no, I’m okay.” You cover your face with your hands. When you start to sob, it shakes the entire mattress, Aaron’s hand wobbling where it cups your ribs. 

“Please.” His thumb works a soft spot into your skin. “Honey, please, you can’t cry now without telling me what’s wrong.” He tries a laugh, but it falls flat. “Honey. Honey.” 

It wasn’t the sex. He never does anything wrong, he’s so gentle even when he isn’t, and if he did you’d only have to tell him, but the rush of being touched by him so nicely, fuck, the way he’d been looking at you, the way he took your face into his hand as he moved —you’re not trying to be a crier, but he makes you feel like you’re everything and you’re just not. 

He looks sick. 

“It wasn’t you, it was at the gala,” you manage. 

For a long while after, you can’t get a word out. You shiver and sob as Aaron scoops you into his chest, his nose in your shoulder waiting for you to calm down. He rubs your waist, fingers parted and waving slowly as he shushes you. Not to make you stop, though. He’s reassuring. 

“What happened at the gala?” he asks quietly. 

“It’s so stupid.” 

“No, it’s alright. Can you tell me what happened? Did someone hurt you?” 

You wrap your arms around his head. It really is stupid, you feel smaller than an ant under the shadow of a giant heel. Aaron doesn’t waver when you struggle to answer, feeling around behind you for a pillow and helping you against it. He kisses your forehead. “Let me get you something to wear.” 

You catch his wrist. “It wasn’t you, wasn’t–” You lift your chin. 

He kisses you. “Okay,” he says simply. “Let’s get dressed.” 

He dresses quickly, bringing you underwear and one of your sleep shirts, a loose fit. You shuffle into them and watch him patiently as he cleans the small mess of the evening away. You’re sniffling softly when he returns to you, sitting with his back to your thighs. 

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry if I read things wrong. I never would’ve initiated anything if I knew you were feeling like this.” 

You laugh weakly, worriedly, looking at him through your lashes. “It made me feel better,” you admit.

“If this is better, you must’ve been feeling awful.” 

You relax as he puts his hand on your thigh. 

“In the time I left you to talk to Strauss, something upset you. JJ and Morgan didn’t see you. So someone in the gala said something or did something that made you leave. If you tell me who it was, I can make sure it doesn’t happen again.” 

“You’re trying to bargain with me,” you mumble. 

“I’m just telling you what can be done. I can take care of things.” 

“It’s nothing… nothing so severe. You’ll wonder why I–” You give an unexpected sob. “Made all this fuss.” 

“I don’t think I’ll wonder,” he says. 

You laugh through tears. These ones are slow, your eyes already itchy from crying. 

“Please tell me.” He tries teasing instead of sternness, lowering his face to yours. “Or I’ll cry too.” 

“Aaron.” 

“I will. You think I can’t, but seeing you crying like this, it’s more than enough ammunition.” 

You let out a breath, admitting defeat. “Your friend, Clint? I overheard him with his wife. He didn’t have very nice things to say about me.” 

“What could he possibly have to say?” Aaron asks with a frown. 

You pull the sheets up your legs. “He said I’m… unbelievable, and I don’t think he meant it kindly. Said that I’m not your type, and that I… I had no chance of measuring up, because of who you’ve been with before. They were laughing about our wedding photos.” Your throat feels pressed into by a hot poker. “They said we were the gentleman and the tramp.” 

His eyes squint. He looks disgusted, and for an uncomfortable moment you feel like it might be directed at you, but then he scoffs. “What a crock of shit.” 

“Aaron!” you laugh. 

“What could Clint McMoore possibly know about marriage? This is his fourth wife. And to imply that you’re any sort of calibre below the women I’ve dated before isn’t just misogynistic nonsense, it’s not true. You are the most beautiful women I’ve ever met, and what’s that supposed to mean, gentlemen and the tramp?” He gives you such an earnest glare of confusion that you can’t for a second doubt what it is he’s saying. “I’m sorry, honey, I think he’s allowed himself a few too many nightcaps over the years. Perhaps he’s suffered a stroke.” 

“Aaron, don’t say that,” you chide, secretly very pleased. 

“Our wedding photos,” he says, his hand drifting further down your leg to rest just shy of somewhere more intimate, “are beautiful. You look beautiful. Clint would’ve writhed in jealousy in the pews if he’d been invited, because he would’ve seen it for himself.” 

“I just sat there while they laughed at me,” you mumble.

“What were you supposed to do?” His hand travels out, to your hip, and then he holds you by the waist with both of his hands. They have a way of making you feel encapsulated, big and strong and careful on the bump of your hips. 

“I don’t know.” 

“Nothing,” he says, meeting your eyes with his usual tender-hearted compassion. “You weren’t supposed to do or say anything.” Aaron appears younger than he is for a second, his eyebrows raised, eyes big and brown as they track over your lips. “Honey, I’m sorry. I didn’t realise he was like that. I’m sorry you had to hear that.” 

“I guess I’m just worried he’s right.” 

“He’s not right. You are everything to me.” Again, he puts weight on the word, roughly said, like it takes a lot from him to say it. “I’m lucky to have been with women who were beautiful, and intelligent, but if there’s a question of you measuring up, there’s no competition. I’ve never been this in love.” 

You take a shaky breath. “Never?” you ask. 

He holds your gaze. “I knew it when we met. That's why I couldn’t wait to ask you to marry me.” 

“You said you weren’t getting any younger.” 

“Well, I’m not, but not everything’s about my age, you know,” he says, giving your waist a playful squeeze. 

”You said it.” 

“I did. That felt easier to say than, if I don’t marry you soon I might implode,” —he shuffles forward, encroaching on your legs and pressing his lips to your cheek— “would’ve just,” —he kisses your cheek, before turning your head— “wasted all that time waiting for someone else’s idea of the right time,” —and he kisses the other cheek, his nose skirting up your face— “wishing I was your husband when I could just,” —he smiles into your eyebrow as his hand slips under your shirt, holding your bare back— “ask.” 

“I’m glad you asked me.” 

You’d cried then, too, but it was less to do with a rush of adrenaline that knocked you out of balance and more to do with how lovingly he’d taken your hand as he asked. You knew from that moment on that someone was going to take care of you for the rest of your life. He’s doing it right now. 

“I love you,” you say, forcing your arms over his shoulders. 

He pulls you in so much that you lift from the mattress. 

“I love you. Are you sure it wasn’t me that upset you? I have to check.” 

“No. What you did to me wasn’t particularly upsetting.” 

He laughs. “Are you sure? You can look a little teary–”

You shush him quickly.

He tips your head to the side to kiss your ear. “Maybe next time, you can tell me about whatever upset you beforehand.” 

“And you can make me feel even better.”

His laugh is nearly inaudible, but his lips are by the side of your head. You hear it, the warmth of his breath kissing the shell of your ear. 

—

Aaron likes to see you in your sweatpants. You look nice in everything, especially your dresses for the evening events he often drags you to, but he likes it when you wear sweatpants because it opens a window. You’ve purchased the wrong size, too big and too long, but you’ve tied them at the waist and you make do. You’re wearing the big shirt he helped you into the night before, sitting on the couch with your ferried breakfast. 

The night before has been washed away, no sign of tears or upset. You have a clean, bright face, one he’d quite like to kiss, or hold, or have pressed to his neck, but none of this is unusual. Your eyes look sore, if he really looks. He’ll make you a compress after breakfast. 

Dropped off by Jess an hour ago, Jack sits beside you picking at the breakfast tray. You’re sharing a plate. You don’t ever mind. 

“Are you eating that one?” you ask. 

Jack immediately nudges half of a chocolate chip pancake your way. “Was the gala fun?” 

“Uh, sure. Saw your dad’s friends. But they had a weird thing with the caterers and we had to get dinner on the way home.”

“You could’ve made dad cook.” 

“I guess, but we were tired. What did you have for dinner?” 

“Jess made spicy chicken. It was amazing.” Jack squints at you. “Your eyes are puffy, Y/N. Are you sick?” 

“I think I might be a little. Not enough to make you sick too, don’t worry.” 

Aaron piles the last of the pancakes onto a plate and carries them to you in the living room. “Here, you two.” 

“Did you eat?” you ask. 

He loves you, bending over to kiss your forehead right in the middle. “Yes.” 

“How come they didn’t have dinner at the gala, dad? I thought that was the whole point,” Jack says. 

He sits down next to Jack on the couch. You cut a big square of pancake and grin at him, seemingly pleased with your breakfast and Jack’s sense of humour. 

“It was a disaster, that’s all. No food, barely any wine, and terrible, awful company.” 

“I thought Miss Jareau went?” 

“She did. But besides her and a handful of others, it was a party for sad old people.” 

“And you didn’t have fun?” Jack asks. 

You laugh so hard tears gather in the corners of your eyes. Aaron cups Jack’s shoulder, surprised when his son doesn’t duck away from the touch. The older he gets the less affection he requires, so it’s nice for Aaron to hug him sideways and be allowed, better that you finish your choking laugh with a hug of your own. “Jack, thank you for that. I think you cured whatever illness I had,” you say.  

“Hey,” Aaron says. 

You run your hand up his neck. Your wedding ring catches against his jaw. 

“It was worth going, though, to see your step-mom in her nice dress,” Aaron says, peeling away from Jack so he has room to breathe. 

Jack turns to you, and his smile is audible, “Do you have any pictures?” 

“I didn’t take any, sorry.” 

“Just think of her now but in a dress, and that’s how beautiful she looked,” Aaron says. 

“Dad, don’t be gross,” Jack says, cutting into the pancakes with his fork.

“It’s not gross, it’s just a fact.” Jack drops pancake down his front. Warm chocolate chips stain his t-shirt. “Missed your mouth, bud. I’ll get a rag.” 

He’s up as quickly as he sat down, running his fingers along your arm and to the palm of your hand, touching you until he can’t. He heads back into the kitchen. His phone is beeping on the table, screen flashing with each new text. 

Penelope: boss, I think the thing you asked for is illegal 

Penelope: also, I assume you were kidding? 

Penelope: so while making it that every link on McMoore’s computer freezes the desktop would’ve been very very funny, I didn’t do that 

Aaron had been kidding, emphatically, because illegal activities aren’t his style. It was a sarcastic suggestion, and yet he’s disappointed nonetheless. 

Penelope: I just signed him up for a bunch of recovering narcissists forums and an email subscription for self help, and maybe also a free online class about manners and etiquette 

Penelope: And I ordered that big canvas for you. It was the one of you guys cutting the cake, right? 

Aaron texts her back quickly: Thank you, Penelope. I couldn’t work out the dimensions online. 

Penelope: You’re welcome! I live to serve :D 

The canvas will look good in the entryway, Aaron believes. Somewhere you can see it, and remember exactly what it is he thinks of you; his eyes glowing with love where he’d been staring at your face, his hand guided yours atop the knife as he traced your features, and you cut that first, fat slice of cake. 

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thanks so much for reading! please think about commenting, liking or reblogging if you enjoyed I love knowing what you think!❤️

also small note: this fic is in no way meant to diminish haley im a haley supporter usually (these days at least!) and I just didn’t mention her for brevity’s sake

[thedensworld]

Gentle Daddy | C. Sc

Pairing: Scoups x reader

Genre: fluff, parent au

Summary: welcome aboard to the threenager stage of Seungcheol's son and how he parents him.

Seungcheol was seventeen when he met Chan, the youngest of their group. Was Chan a little brother? Yes. But at the start? Not quite. To Seungcheol, Chan was just another kid, someone he had to look after out of duty rather than choice.

As the oldest in their group, Seungcheol often became the subject of jokes about his strict ways. “Everyone, if you don’t wake up on three, I’ll give you 10 more laps of running,” Seungkwan teased, mimicking Seungcheol's commanding tone from their training days, complete with a mock-serious expression that drew laughter.

“Seungcheol hyung definitely needs someone gentle to balance that out,” Chan piped up with a cheeky grin. But before he could finish, Seungcheol raised an eyebrow and asked, “Balance what?”

Chan swallowed nervously, waving his hand dismissively as the others burst into laughter. “No, no, I was talking to myself,” he stammered.

But now, Seungcheol stood in a different scene, holding his three-year-old son, Wontae, on his arm during his birthday party. The house was filled with chatter and laughter, the kind only close friends could bring.

“Your interior is beautiful, Seungcheol. Come over and do mine next,” Jeonghan quipped, throwing a casual compliment with a hint of a request. Seungcheol rolled his eyes, scoffing.

“Appa did my room too!” Wontae beamed proudly at Jeonghan. Jeonghan’s features softened as he reached out and ruffled the boy’s hair. “Your appa is very talented, isn’t he?”

Seungcheol discovered his passion for interior design when he was searching online for the perfect nursery layout for Wontae. But nothing he found could match the vision in his mind. After discussing it with you, he decided to take matters into his own hands. Trips to the hardware store turned into projects that filled his weekends: crafting custom cabinets, building desks, and designing coffee tables.

In preparation for the party, Seungcheol went all out—rearranging furniture, painting walls, and adding small decorative touches that showcased his new hobby.

“It’s almost as good as Mingyu’s house,” Jeonghan said with a mischievous smirk. Seungcheol chuckled, nodding in agreement. “I think taking care of others did that to me. Just like how Mingyu took care of everything for us back in the day.”

“I want to get down,” Wontae said, squirming in his father’s arms. Seungcheol gently set him down, watching with a smile as his son darted over to Wonwoo, who was showing him a video game on his phone.

“He’s going to be three, wow!” Jeonghan remarked, shaking his head in disbelief. “It feels like just yesterday when I first held him.”

“How is it like?” Jeonghan asked, a rare tone of seriousness in his voice.

Seungcheol sighed, his lips curving into a soft smile. “Go get married and have one yourself,” he said playfully.

“Jeonghan’s getting married?” Your voice chimed in as you returned from putting Wonna, your four-month-old daughter, to sleep. Both Seungcheol and Jeonghan turned toward you. Seungcheol’s eyes softened as he reached for your waist, pulling you gently into his side.

“Is she asleep?” he asked, concern blending with affection. You nodded, resting a hand on his chest.

“Don’t listen to him,” Jeonghan interjected, rolling his eyes but unable to hide the smile tugging at his lips.

“I feel really bad that you’re going through all of this right after giving birth, just for his birthday party,” Jeonghan joked, glancing around at the well-decorated room. The party was being held the day after Seungcheol’s birthday, even though Wontae’s actual birthday was next week.

“I told you, it’s for Wontae!” Seungcheol insisted, his tone defensive but playful.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Jeonghan, I gave birth four months ago. Besides, I’m grateful that Joshua and Mingyu helped with the food prep.” You nodded toward Joshua and Mingyu, who were now joined by Jihoon in the kitchen, scrubbing dishes and joking with each other.

Suddenly, a tiny voice interrupted the grown-up conversation. “Look what Uncle Hoshi got me! It’s a matching tiger onesie for me and Wonna!” Wontae announced proudly, holding up the tiny outfit with wide eyes full of excitement.

Seungcheol’s eyes flicked to Hoshi, who was now rolling on the floor, laughing at Wontae’s reaction. The older man couldn’t help but smirk, shaking his head.

You smiled and turned to Seungcheol. “I’ll go help him with his present,” you said, squeezing his arm before walking over to your son.

Jeonghan, still standing beside Seungcheol, gave him a knowing pat on the shoulder. “You know, it’s great you married Y/N. I never thought I’d see the day when the legendary Seungcheol, the training tyrant, would become the poster child for gentle parenting.”

Seungcheol scoffed, turning to Jeonghan with a mock glare. “A monster? Really? You’re one to talk,” he protested, crossing his arms but unable to suppress the grin threatening to break through.

Jeonghan just laughed, throwing his hands up in surrender. “Hey, I’m just stating the facts. Besides, we all know you wouldn’t be half as patient if it weren’t for her.”

Seungcheol glanced across the room where you were now helping Wontae into the tiger onesie, a soft smile crossing his face. The room buzzed with laughter and warmth, the chaos of their little family perfectly imperfect.

*

Seungcheol woke up a bit late this morning, the warm glow of the morning sun filtering through the curtains. A soft smile spread across his face as he took in the sight of his family already gathered at the dining table for breakfast. The sound of Wontae’s cheerful voice filled the room when he spotted his dad entering.

“Appa!” Wontae called out with excitement, his tiny hands waving eagerly. Seungcheol walked over and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Wontae’s head before his eyes found Wonna, cradled in your arms, contentedly finishing her second bottle of the day.

“Wonna Wonna~ did you sleep well, my princess?” Seungcheol cooed, his heart melting at the sight of his daughter’s chubby cheeks. Wonna wriggled in your embrace, her eyes lighting up as she recognized her father’s voice.

“You had breakfast, love?” Seungcheol’s gaze shifted to you, his tone laced with concern. You shook your head with a soft smile. “I was waiting for you.”

He grinned, taking Wonna gently from your arms. “I’ll play with Wonna for a bit. Go have your breakfast.”

You nodded, appreciating his thoughtful gesture, and sat down to enjoy breakfast with Wontae. After some quality playtime with Wonna and tucking her back into her crib for a nap, Seungcheol returned to the dining room. By then, Wontae had retreated to his bedroom, engrossed in the toys his uncles had gifted him.

“Wontae loves Mingyu’s gift,” Seungcheol said with a chuckle, recalling how his son had immediately fallen in love with the plush corgi toy Mingyu had brought him. It was amusing how Wontae adored anything Mingyu gave, no matter what it was.

You laughed as you finished your meal. “Of course he does. He’s your son, after all. It makes sense he’d have a special bond with Mingyu.”

Seungcheol joined in your laughter, the sound warm and genuine. “Thanks, love,” he said when you placed a steaming bowl of rice and soup in front of him.

“Is your head still dizzy?” you asked, sitting beside him to keep him company while he ate.

He sighed, a touch of guilt crossing his features. “Not as much, but I really need to cut down on my drinking.” A rueful smile followed. “I still don’t get how you don’t drink at all—not even a beer.”

You smiled, amused by his amazement. “The last time I drank was before I got pregnant with Wontae,” you reminded him. Seungcheol’s eyes widened as the memory came rushing back—it had been at Joshua’s birthday party.

“Right!” he said, letting out a soft chuckle at the recollection.

Before he could say more, Wontae’s voice rang out, echoing through the hallway. “Eomma! Come here!” He came running into the dining room, eyes sparkling with excitement as he tugged at your hand, eager for you to join him in his room.

“How about we stay here and keep Appa company while he finishes eating?” you suggested gently, but Wontae shook his head, determination written all over his little face.

“No! I want to show you my drawing!” he insisted, practically bouncing on his feet. “Uncle Chan gave me crayons, and there are so many colors! Even five different blues!”

You exchanged a knowing look with Seungcheol, your heart swelling at Wontae’s joy. “Alright, let’s see your masterpiece,” you said, getting up and giving Seungcheol a reassuring smile before following your son.

Five minutes later, you returned to the dining room, barely suppressing your laughter. Seungcheol had just finished eating and looked up, curiosity piqued by your expression.

“You should see what he’s done in there,” you said, eyes twinkling with amusement.

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What did he do this time?”

“You need to see it for yourself,” you urged, playfully nudging him in the direction of Wontae’s room. “I’ll take care of the dishes.”

With a grin, Seungcheol pushed back his chair, eager to see what kind of adventure awaited him in his son’s room.

Seungcheol opened Wontae's room and was greeted by the sight of his son enthusiastically coloring in his new book, using the crayons Chan had gifted him. The vibrant hues danced across the pages, a mix of scribbles and childlike shapes. Wontae’s eyes lit up when he noticed his father standing at the door. He bounded over, grabbing Seungcheol’s hand and pulling him toward his little art corner.

“Look, Appa! I drew a rock!” Wontae exclaimed, pride beaming from his small face.

Seungcheol’s eyes followed Wontae’s pointing finger until they landed on the wall. Oh my god. There, on the freshly painted surface, was a child’s drawing—a colorful depiction of what was presumably a rock, sketched in bold crayon strokes.

He froze, processing the situation. So this was why you had insisted he see it for himself. He could practically hear the smile in your voice when you said it.

“You drew on the wall?” he asked, keeping his voice as steady as possible.

Wontae nodded innocently. “But Eomma said it’s better to draw on the coloring book, so now I draw here. But sometimes it gets boring, Appa!”

Seungcheol felt a wave of relief wash over him. So you caught him and told him to stop. Thank god.

He closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath to quell the frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Remember, Seungcheol, they don’t know better. They don’t understand how much work it is to paint a wall.

“Yes, your eomma is right. Drawing on your coloring book is best.” He sat down on the floor beside Wontae, the urge to scold replaced by the desire to guide. “Show me more of your drawings here.”

Wontae beamed at the invitation, plopping down next to his father and eagerly flipping through the pages of his coloring book. Seungcheol couldn’t help but smile as he watched his son’s eyes sparkle with excitement, oblivious to any worry or consequence.

Every time Seungcheol’s eyes strayed to the drawing on the wall, a chuckle escaped his lips. It was ridiculous! He wanted to be mad, really mad, but he just couldn’t muster it. “You know you shouldn’t draw on the wall, right?” he asked his son, carefully suppressing the instinct to say, “I just painted that! Why did you draw on it?!” in a booming voice that would only frighten the boy. He took a deep breath, holding back the frustration that threatened to spill out.

Wontae looked up at his father’s face, his eyes wide with curiosity as he noticed something unusual. “Why is your face red, Appa?” he asked, putting down his crayon and reaching up with his tiny hands to cup Seungcheol’s flushed cheeks. Seungcheol let out another soft chuckle, his anger melting further.

“You know Appa loves this house, right?” Seungcheol said, his tone remaining gentle and warm.

Wontae nodded, his little head bobbing earnestly.

“No one in this house draws on the walls because Appa worked hard to keep them nice and clean,” Seungcheol explained, still smiling softly despite the chaos inside him.

Wontae bit his lip, his eyes beginning to glisten with tears. “Are you mad at me for drawing on the wall?” His voice trembled as he spoke, and Seungcheol’s heart lurched. Panic surged through him—he was the one who felt like crying, not his son!

“I didn’t say I’m mad at you,” Seungcheol said quickly.

“But your face says it…” Wontae mumbled, the quiver in his voice growing more pronounced.

Oh no. Shit.

“Eommaaaa!” Wontae suddenly burst out, tears streaming down his cheeks as he ran toward you. Seungcheol’s eyes darted to the doorway where you were standing, suppressing a smile as you scooped up your tearful son into your arms.

“Why? What happened?” you asked Wontae in a whisper, stroking his back to soothe him.

“Your father wasn’t mad at you, was he?” you asked softly, glancing over at Seungcheol with a knowing smile. “Did he shout at you?” Wontae shook his head, hiccupping as he clung to your shoulder.

“No,” Wontae admitted, his sobs quieting as you continued to comfort him.

“He was just talking to you,” you reassured him, casting Seungcheol a gentle, supportive look.

Seungcheol groaned internally, a mix of confusion and self-reproach. He thought he’d nailed it—the gentle parenting that you both had worked so hard to practice. Yet here was his son, still able to sense the tension in his expression, and hurt by it despite the lack of yelling or scolding.

Seungcheol sighed, running a hand through his hair as he sat back on his heels. “We’re on this stage now,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

You glanced at him, raising a brow. “What stage?”

“The threenager stage,” Seungcheol said, his tone carrying both exasperation and amusement. “I read about it somewhere. It’s when kids start acting like teenagers—rebelling, pushing boundaries, testing their parents’ patience. Wontae’s only three, but he already knows how to push all my buttons.”

You laughed softly, shifting Wontae in your arms as his sniffles subsided. “It’s not rebellion, Seungcheol. It’s curiosity. He’s learning, exploring his emotions, and figuring out how far he can go.”

“Exploring his emotions by drawing on my freshly painted wall?” Seungcheol deadpanned, though a small smile tugged at his lips. He wasn’t truly upset anymore—not when Wontae was looking up at him with wide, apologetic eyes.

“Exactly,” you teased, setting Wontae back down on the floor. “It’s frustrating, but it’s normal. And you handled it really well, by the way.”

Seungcheol tilted his head, raising a skeptical brow. “I did?”

“Yes,” you said firmly, giving him an encouraging smile. “You didn’t yell or scare him. You explained things calmly. That’s the kind of parenting that sticks with them, Seungcheol. He’ll remember this.”

Seungcheol glanced at Wontae, who had returned to his coloring book but kept sneaking shy glances at his father. He felt a wave of warmth wash over him, mingled with pride and relief. I can do this, he thought. Even when it’s tough, I can do this.

“Okay, buddy,” Seungcheol said, crouching down to Wontae’s level. “Let’s make a deal. No more drawing on the walls, okay? If you want to draw something big, we’ll find some paper or maybe a special board just for you. How does that sound?”

Wontae’s face lit up at the idea. “A special board? Really?”

“Really,” Seungcheol promised, ruffling his son’s hair. “But only if you promise no more wall art.”

“I promise, Appa!” Wontae beamed, holding up his pinky. Seungcheol chuckled and locked his pinky with his son’s, sealing the deal.

You watched the exchange with a fond smile, stepping closer to place a hand on Seungcheol’s shoulder. “See? You’re doing great.”

Seungcheol exhaled deeply, his smile widening. “Thanks, love. I guess I just need to remember to breathe. And to hide all the crayons.”

You both laughed softly, and for a moment, the chaos felt a little more manageable.

*

"One… Two… Three…" Seungcheol’s voice was steady as he counted while Chan, drenched in sweat, gritted his teeth to finish his push-up set. His arms trembled, and his face was etched with exhaustion, but he pushed through, determined to complete the punishment.

The door to the practice room swung open, and the rest of the group filed in, their faces a mix of confusion and amusement as they took in the scene. Seungcheol stood towering over Chan, arms crossed, while the youngest member struggled through the exercise. It was a far cry from what anyone had expected when they read Seungcheol's early-morning text asking Chan to come to the practice room an hour ahead of schedule.

"What’s going on here?" Joshua asked, barely hiding his amusement as he watched Chan squirm on the floor.

"Ten!" Seungcheol finished his count, clapping his hands in exaggerated applause. He smirked as Chan collapsed onto the floor, utterly spent. "That’s ten sets done—one hundred push-ups. Congratulations, Chan. That’s what you get for giving my son those crayons."

Chan’s pout was instant. "It’s not fair! It’s your son who drew on the wall. Why am I the one getting punished?" His voice was full of indignation, though it lacked the energy to be truly effective.

Mingyu burst into laughter, doubling over as realization dawned. "Wait, wait—Wontae drew all over the wall with the crayons Chan gave him? That’s hilarious!" He clutched his sides, nearly toppling over from laughing so hard.

Jeonghan, leaning casually against the doorframe, nodded in mock agreement. "Honestly, it makes sense. Seungcheol’s a gentle appa with Wontae—there’s no way he’d punish his precious son for something like this." He shot Chan a teasing grin. "But you? Yeah, I’d do the same if I were Seungcheol."

Chan groaned dramatically, throwing an arm over his face. "This is so unfair!" he whined, his voice muffled. "I’m the innocent one here! Gentle appa is a fraud—he’s evil!"

Seungcheol couldn’t hold back his chuckle as he crouched down to look at Chan. "Gentle appa does exist," he said with a smirk, "but only for Wontae. You and your crayons? You’re a different story."

"See?" Jeonghan said, straightening up. "I told you. Seungcheol’s priorities are clear."

Chan sat up, still sulking. "Unfair. So unfair." He shot a glance at the others, hoping for sympathy, but all he got were amused grins and stifled laughter.

"Hey," Joshua added, chuckling softly, "at least now you know not to mess with Wontae’s creative genius—or his dad’s freshly painted walls."

Mingyu clapped Chan on the back, nearly knocking him over again. "Think of it as a lesson in self-sacrifice. You helped foster Wontae’s artistic side. That’s a win, right?"

Chan groaned louder, flopping onto the floor in defeat, while Seungcheol leaned against the wall with a triumphant grin. "Alright, everyone. Lesson’s over. Let’s get to practice before he starts crying for real."

"So unfair!"

[ange1heavensent]

An inch away from more than just friends

:｡.｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡.｡:+*ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡:

Pairing: loser!ellie x loser!fem reader

Content Warning: making out, mentions of sex scene in film, fic loosely based on Naked in Manhattan by Chappell Roan

w/c ≈ 1200

:｡.｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡.｡:+*ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡:

Jackson had a way of making the world feel still. Days came and went, each one blending into the next with the simplicity of routine. For you, that routine often involved ending your day at Ellie’s place, curled up together watching whatever strange or offbeat movie she’d dug up. Tonight, like so many nights before, you’d settled into that rhythm, expecting nothing more than the usual.

Ellie greeted you at the door, her hair messy from what you imagined had been a lazy day of reading or sketching. You stepped inside, shrugging off your jacket, trying to shake the feeling that something was a little different tonight.

“Everything alright with you?” Ellie muttered, hands in her pockets. Her voice was casual, but you noticed the tension beneath it, something unspoken in the way she barely met your eyes.

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved her off, following her into the “bedroom” where she’d already set up the movie Mulholland Drive. You threw yourself onto the bed while Ellie stayed standing, fiddling with the remote. She seemed more on edge than usual, fidgeting with her sleeves, avoiding looking at you for too long. You tried to shake off the weirdness, focusing on the movie as the opening credits rolled. For the first half, things were mostly normal. Ellie made the occasional comment, and you both laughed at the more bizarre parts of the plot. But then… the scene happened. A sex scene hit the screen, and the air between you two shifted in an instant.

You felt it immediately, the awkwardness that spread like wildfire. Ellie stiffened beside you, eyes glued to the screen but not really watching. Your heart pounded as your mind raced, hyper-aware of how close your bodies were. The heat from her leg brushing against yours suddenly felt like too much, like it was burning through your jeans. 

You weren’t exactly a stranger to sex scenes in movies, but this time it felt different, more intimate. Too intimate. You risked a glance at Ellie and saw the tension in her jaw, her hand gripping the bedsheets tightly. She wasn’t handling it any better than you were.

God, why did this feel so… charged?

You looked away quickly, trying to focus on literally anything else. But the room was filled with an uncomfortable silence. When the scene finally ended, it left an awkward tension that lingered long after. The rest of the movie passed in a blur. You weren’t paying attention anymore. All you could think about was Ellie, how her hand was so close to yours, how your heart was still racing even though the scene had long since ended. 

When the credits rolled, Ellie jumped to her feet like she couldn’t handle sitting next to you any longer. “I, uh- I’ll get the couch ready for tonight,” she said quickly, moving toward the closet. You frowned. “The couch? You’re not coming to bed?” Ellie paused, looking over her shoulder, clearly flustered. “I just thought… maybe I’d sleep there instead.”

That didn’t sit right with you. Sleepovers had always been the same, you’d sleep together, limbs tangled in the small bed. The thought of sleeping apart felt wrong, but you didn’t argue. Not with things already feeling this weird. You crawled deeper into the bed while Ellie busied herself with blankets, but neither of you seemed able to sleep. The room was too quiet, too still, and you found yourself lying on your side, facing her direction.

After what felt like an eternity, you broke the silence.

“Ellie?” You heard her groan, and then she shifted, turning over to face you. Even in the darkness, you could sense her eyes on you, wide and uncertain. “What?” she asked, her voice strained. You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. This had been eating at you all night, maybe for longer than that. “What’s going on?” Ellie didn’t respond right away, and you could practically hear the gears turning in her head. Finally, after what felt like forever, she sighed.

“I don’t know,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. The answer didn’t surprise you. It didn’t make things easier either. You bit your lip, unsure of how to put into words what had been slowly building between you two for weeks, maybe months.

“You’ve been acting… weird tonight,” you said, feeling vulnerable. “Is it because of… the movie?” Ellie groaned again, this time louder, like she was frustrated. “No… yes… I don’t know!” She exhaled sharply. “That movie just… it got me thinking, okay?” Your pulse quickened. “Thinking about what?”

Silence filled the room again, thick with tension. Ellie seemed to be wrestling with something, and you held your breath, waiting for her to speak. When she did, her voice was soft and uncertain. “Us,” she whispered. “Are we… are we more than just friends?”

There it was. Out in the open. The question hung between you like a heavy weight. It was something you had never allowed yourself to think about, not really. But now, with Ellie lying there, so close yet so far, you couldn’t avoid it anymore. Your heart hammered in your chest as you sat up slightly, your voice shaking. “I don’t know. Maybe?”

Ellie shifted on the couch, and suddenly, she was standing. She climbed into the bed beside you, moving slowly like she wasn’t sure she was allowed to be there. Your breaths came out shallow as she lay down next to you, her face inches from yours, her expression unsure.

For a long moment, neither of you moved. You just stared at each other, and you swore you could hear both your hearts racing in the silence. Then, finally, Ellie leaned in, her lips brushing yours tentatively, like she wasn’t sure this was real.

The kiss was soft, hesitant, but it sent a rush of warmth flooding through your veins. You kissed her back, your hands instinctively finding their way to her hair, pulling her closer. The dam had finally broken, months of tension spilling out in that one kiss.

Ellie’s hands slid to your waist, and she pulled you against her, deepening the kiss. It was soft but intense, the kind of kiss that left you breathless and wanting more. You didn’t know how long it lasted, time seemed to blur as you lost yourself in the feel of her lips, her hands, her warmth.

When you finally pulled back for air, your foreheads pressed together, your breaths mingling in the quiet of the room. “This is… weird, right?” Ellie whispered, a nervous laugh escaping her. You smiled, your thumb brushing gently over her cheek. “Yeah,” you admitted, your own heart still racing. “But good weird.”

Ellie grinned, her hands still firmly on your waist, as though she was afraid to let go. “I don’t know what this is,” she said softly, “but… I like it.” You leaned in and kissed her again, the warmth of her smile still lingering on her lips. “Me too.” The rest of the night passed in a blur of soft kisses, whispered words, and gentle touches. Whatever you and Ellie had now, it was real, and for the first time, you didn’t feel the need to question it.

:｡.｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡.｡:+*ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡:

Thank you for reading! If you liked this fic, check out my masterlist for more :)

[soapyblubbles]

⋆｡˙ runaway pets ˙｡⋆

pairings: dark regulus + dark poly marauders

warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, implied kidnapping, threesome, implied fivesome, voyeurism, overstimulation, (light) slapping, choking, stockholm syndrome, smoking, shotgunning, pet names, etc.

a/n: please enjoy the much more comprehensive version of one of my very first works. there were a lot of inconsistencies and issues with the first version. I added a lot more detail to this and it honestly feels more like a one-shot than a drabble now. i'll add the unedited version at the bottom just incase anyone wants to take a peak. anyways, happy reading <3

“I told you it’d be worse if you went to get help.” Regulus sits on one end of the bed, a small indulgent smile flitting across his lips. As if nothing was wrong. 

As if you weren’t being fucked within an inch of your life.

You turn your head to him, breathless pants leaving your mouth as Remus continues to rock into you. His hips slap into your own at a steady pace. How long had he been sitting there?

The air is stifling, sweat beading along your forehead and the small of your back. The arm around your waist only adds to the oppressive feeling, Remus’ strong grip keeping you upright and in place.

Your arms shake from exertion, and you have to force your hands to unclench from where they’re fisting the damp sheets.

With a whimper, you reach for Regulus, trying to find the comfort you once found in him before it all. Before he had selfishly stole you away. Before you knew of the darkness lingering just beneath the surface.

You weakly try to pry off the arm wrapped around you, but it doesn’t budge. It only tightens, pulling you up until your back hits Remus’ firm chest.

“Want sir now. Please- Remmy-” The lanky brunette ignores you, muttering something unintelligible into your neck as his thrusts speed up. Your attention was stolen from him. He doesn’t like that- not one bit.

Your face crumples at the silent dismissal, the tears you’d been holding in falling just as you reach another trembling high.

“Please, m’sorry sir- c-can we please go home now?” You gasp out. Your limbs burn, they have been for a while you suppose, but still you try to ignore it, concentrating on just Regulus for now.

But he only hums noncommittally, standing as he makes his way to the makeshift bar in the corner of the room. Regulus rubs his jaw in mock thought, scrutinizing the scene before him while he pours himself a glass of firewhiskey. The smell of cinnamon saturates the air, adding to the heavy atmosphere.

“Thought you wanted to come here-“ He gestures around the room, lazily draping himself on the nearby armchair. “For help.” The last word is said with a sneer and laced with so much venom that you balk.

Even though you can tell he’s done arguing about it, you still sob out: “I’ll be good- promise.”

You hear Sirius let out a scoff. He’s leaning against the headboard, his shirt unbuttoned and a lit cigarette in hand, doing nothing but watching as his friends ruin you.

He’d been the one to call Regulus when you came running to their house, barefoot and in nothing but a frail, white nightgown. “You’re already being good here, pup- s’no use in leaving.” He makes his way towards you, squishing your cheeks together, your lips forming an o-shape.

He blows smoke into your mouth, smirking when you cough at the burn. “Y’already gonna be punished anyway, might as well do that here- ain’t that right Reggie?”

Regulus rolls his eyes, breaking his normally composed demeanor. “Don’t call me-”

“Hush, I can’t focus when you lot keep talkin.” James' speech is slurred as he speaks up, moving his head slightly from between your legs. He pays no mind to the way Remus pumps in and out of you. His mouth is so close to where the two of you meet that you can feel his cool breath against your clit as he talks.

“S’annoying.”  

You clench around Remus at the feeling, and the man in question groans, giving you a particularly rough thrust.

James goes back to work at that, humming softly as he drinks in yours and Remus’ juices. You let out a another strangled moan, instinctively trying to tilt your hips away.

Instantly Sirius’ face darkens with anger, “Uh-uh, I don’t think so puppy.” A hand shoots out to grab the base of your neck as James’ hands grip the front of your thighs tightly.

“Don’t fuckin’ run away from him- you understand?” 

You nod shakily, chest rising and falling quickly as you watch him with unseeing eyes.

“Just take it like a good girl, princess.” James cooes, lightly nibbling on the inside of your thigh. You let out a startled yelp.

“What d’you say bunny?” Remus asks from behind you, hips slowing as he tries to find that spot. Trying to coax the words out of you. You whine, unable to answer until Sirius gingerly slaps your cheek, raising a sharp brow at you.

“M’sorry- m’so sorry Jamie.” Your head is spinning, an ache growing until it becomes practically mind numbing.

At this point it’s all you can focus on.

“Thought I taught you better than that pet.” Regulus chides, clicking his tongue in disappointment. He looks only slightly more disheveled than before. His hair is not neatly combed back like it was earlier, and his tie considerably loosened. His fingers dig into the cushioned arms of the chair, the veins in his forearms flexing in a way that makes your mouth water.

You lick your lips. “Sir-”

Remus shushes you. “S’ okay bunny- y’just have to make it up to him.” You cry out as he brushes against your g-spot, finally finding what he’s been looking for this whole time.

Each hit of his hips is aimed perfectly, giving you no room to breathe until you’re a gasping mess.

James’ mouth certainly doesn’t help. His warm tongue suckles at your clit, unrelenting as he brings you to that exhilarating peak over and over again.

Eventually he breaks away, wiping the wetness around his mouth with the back of his hand. A feral grin forms as he pushes the hair away from your face, cupping your teary cheeks. “That wasn’t so bad now was it? You can take a little more, right?”

Sirius answers before you can even think to open your mouth, a mocking frown on his face. “I don’t know about that Prongs- she seems a right mess already, huh? Don’t think she can go on.” He slaps between your legs, and a panicked moan startles its way out of you. 

You quickly come undone, so worked up from before, but the torment doesn’t end there.

“I think you're right, Pads.” James murmurs, as he slips his fingers through the mess of your cunt, the tips of his fingers grazing the base of Remus’ cock.

It’s enough to startle a groan out of him.

Sirius grabs onto your hips, reaching around James to take control of the even pace Remus set. “C’mon pup, make a mess on Moony’s cock- be a good little cockslut for us.”

He bounces you viscously atop Remus, everyone watching intently as you become a drooling mess.

Your set your lidded gaze on Regulus, whose self-control looks like it’s seconds away from snapping. 

Yet he makes no move to stop the situation.

“Come on princess- fuckin’ come for us. Make a fucking mess.” James growls into your ear, pinching your clit roughly. Tears well in your eyes, body tensing as you are, yet again, pushed off the edge.

“Fuck- such a good bunny.” Remus curses. 

Sirius and James mock your high pitched cries, taking a sadistic pleasure in watching you sob at the overstimulation.

Your limbs go slack, Remus panting heavily as he fucks you through it all, his breath fanning against your neck. He kisses your temple softly and you whine, barely able to move, even as the aftershocks flow through you. 

The three continue to overstimulate you, and Remus lets out a breathy chuckle when Sirius lets go of your hips, letting you fall face first into James’ chest.

“S’your turn princess. We’re not doing all the work for you- besides you still have three more cocks to go.”

�� ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

UNEDITED VERSION

[palskippah]

Hi!! Nimona Tangled AU my beloved 🗣️🗣️

Here's drawings of some of the stuff I can remember of the movie woo

Also under the cut are some random thoughts too c:

(Apologies on any mistakes! I tried checking in to make sure that everything was correctly written)

-Save me, PNG of a frying pan.

-By the way, I've only watched the movie (several times) in Spanish, never in English, so not only I am writing what I can actually remember of the dialogue, but also I'm translating it into English djfdk clarifying this in case it feels weird

-I think it was Ambrosius' voice actor who mentioned about the discarded idea of the queen being Ambrosius' mother, but anyways here she is his mother and Ambrosius was stolen from his crib and all that

>Invented Ambrosius a dad called King Something-Something and the guy definitely cried like Rapunzel's dad when him and his wife were getting ready to send floating the first lantern (I swear, that scene is my favorite in the whole movie, it's just so aaa hitting me right in the daddy issues, he was missing his daughter so much)

>Then Queen Valerin wipes the king's tears very tenderly while feeling very melancholic herself, but she doesn't cry because she had accepted long ago that their son was never coming back, but she knows that her husband is still hopeful about it, even if each year he gets disappointed.

-Instead of it being Queen Valerin who was sick, it was Ambrosius who was born as a sickly baby (stealing comic Nimona's lore a bit here sjdkf), and so in all the kingdom they went to look for a cure for his sickness because otherwise they were sure he wouldn't make it.

>Then they find the flower and they give it to him and from then on he becomes a very healthy, robust baby. Also he started quickly growing blond hair with the weeks and they were like ? okay, but he's healthy, so-!

>(It would've been cool to color Ambrosius' tip of his blonde hair brown like his haircolor is supposed to be but I forgor and I'm too lazy to fix it sjdfkjs)

>Anyways the Director thought that she had lost the power of the flower forever since they fed it to the prince, but then she's like :0 bc hey it seems that the powers transferred to the baby. And she's like, well, that works too, and tried to get his hair but it didn't work so she planned on kidnapping him instead.

>Maybe she kidnapped him like when he was a toddler or lil kid under four or very young so he wouldn't remember his parents or anything prince-related, that's why twenty years went by and yet Ambrosius is older than that.

-I'm yet to keep reading rosemary-frog's tangled au fic but the idea of Ballister being Lord Blackheart is really cool and then him probably admitting that his name is just Ballister pipipi when he and Ambrosius are about to drown in that lil cave.

>Maybe Nimona starts narrating the story with something like 'this is the story of how Lord Blackheart/my boss/the villain died' or something very dramatic.

>Maybe he's surname-less and the queen names or knights him Boldheart or something aaa

>Ambrosius starts calling him Ballister and then just Balli wiwiw

-The director sometimes losing her cool and blaming Ambrosius over it (in a, look what you made me do, kinda way) [LIKE THAT THING IN AMPHIBIA SJDKFSJF the king just kills Marcy and is like oh look what you made me do :( ]

>She definitely applies that when she stabs Ballister nearly to the end of the story sdfjs like, look what you caused, Ambrosius, if only you had listened to me.

-Her not naming herself his mother to keep some distance between herself and the queen's kid, so just going along with her director title, since she is still the director in the institute or something, and how is Ambrosius going to know what a director actually is, anyway.

>He tried to call him mom once and she was like (ew) no, it's director, I'm not your mother (maybe he's told his parents abandoned him or tried to use his magic for their own evil benefit, and that's why the director decided to save and protect him, taking him to the tower).

>Ambrosius hasn't known anyone beside her tho, so she allows the occasional hug or gentle treatment. He's very touch-starved.

>She feels nothing for him, he's just useful and at the second of him rebelling she tries to kill him or whatever happened in the tangled movie sjdfkds

>Actually I think Rapunzel's mom wanted to take her away for no one to find them? Maybe the director was just so desperate to not lose Ambrosius' magic that she'd leave everything behind just to get to keep it for herself idk.

>Also she definitely tells him out there are monsters and stuff bc why not, anything to keep Ambrosius fearful of the outside world and keep him in the tower.

-Nimona doesn't like Ambrosius for calling her a monster, then over finding out that he whacked her boss in the head with a frying pan several times, and then for gatekeeping the crown that they stole.

-Nimona starting the Goldie nickname, Ballister following along, and Ambrosius not finding it amusing. Maybe Ballister comments something about having a thing for blondes during the whole thing of him and Ambrosius clearly liking each other (and Ambrosius' like oh?? I am a blond! 😈).

>Later on, after the whole dying and reviving through Ambrosius' tears, Ballister says that he's crazy for brunettes actually and Ambrosius' like :D ??!! because Ballister is alive (and hey, he is a brunette! 😈)

>Btw they definitely flirt in-between their mission of going to see the lanterns, even if Ambrosius isn't all too sure about what he's doing bc he has never flirted with anyone before, he just knows that saying things to Ballister that make the man look almost coy makes his heart go faster, and also of course receiving the flirting from Ballister.

>What if he applies all the stuff he had read in his books or something sjdkfjs he had only ever flirted with the mirror and now he gets to apply it to the very attractive man that is leading him to watch the lanterns sjdfkjf

-Nimona breaks Ballister out of jail exactly like in the Nimona movie and hurts lots of guards and jumps out of the building as it explodes and stuff.

-Since Nimona is sort of using Maximus' place in the movie (and any animal, like Pascal and also that bunny that Rapunzel gets scared of), let's say that the overly competent guard/knight here will have to be Todd and his team sjdkf

>They're after Ballister and Nimona, but since Ambrosius' there too they also chase him (running away from the law as a family, amarite)

-When they're in the lil' cave about to drown, both Nimona and Ballister have to pull Ambrosius out of the water when he keeps trying to push the rocks away, in desperation because how is he going to die this way.

>Nimona's like, Goldie stop! It's useless. Because she tried pounding the rocks in the biggest forms she could use and had to resist turning into a much bigger form in fear of squashing both men. And her smallest forms did nothing because they were completely sealed in, yet she was aware that both men were about to die and she wouldn't. Then Ambrosius turns to Ballister who just gently shakes his head, because it is a lost cause.

>Both Nimona and Ballister see him crying in guilt and stuff and Ballister says his actual name when Ambrosius says, I'm sorry, Nimona, Lord Blackheart-. Ballister admits that he isn't a Lord nor Blackheart, and that he actually has no last name. He's just Ballister.

>I'm not sure what Nimona would admit, like the being lonely thing, the pushing people away, or something to do with their powers? (but I doubt that one), maybe she just watches the other two share their small moment of truths.

>Ambrosius reveals that his hair glows when he sings. And so he does when he realizes that they could use that, and once there's a very small crack revealed by the light where his hair is trying to get out, Nimona puts her whole into using that and she finally manages to push all the stuff away.

-Ballister is like, his hair glows?! and Nimona's like, yeah and I change forms, so what?! a bit offendedly and Ballister's like, oh right.

>(Nimona getting offended on Ambrosius' behalf over Ballister freaking out about his powers/magic, reminding her a bit of when they first met and Ballister freaked out too. But Ambrosius couldn't care less about the guy freaking out, he's way too happy about being alive)

>Then he heals his right hand where he had a cut and all that and the whole talk of stuff.

-Imagine that same night that they have to spend resting, that Nimona and Ballister easily fall into a sleeping position that works to brace them (especially Ballister) against the cold of the night, and Ambrosius just staring with like a smile because isn't it great that those two get to have each other and be so familiar between each other to just do that?

>Then he prepares to lay on his own side to sleep, but Nimona just rolls her eyes and roughly pulls him into their pile, leaving him wrapped on her arms too. And there's Ambrosius and Ballister back-to-back, and Ballister just says 'goodnight' to him and Ambrosius mutters the same back, feeling something like a lump in his throat as he accommodates his head on Nimona's arm like a pillow.

>And Ballister throws Nimona a knowing look, because despite her not liking the blond much, she still felt some clear sympathy for him, both over him admitting that he had never left the tower, and the fact that they were similar somewhat, both had pretty cool powers that confused people.

>And the fact that Ambrosius getting locked into a tower so no one could use his powers was a bit similar to Nimona's situation in a way (if we're going with the comic lore for her)

>(maybe it was Nimona who muttered the 'you've never left the tower' in realization after Ambrosius said almost shyly the 'that's why I've never been out and...' and then he sighed defeatedly and then said the next stuff all resigned, and all that)

-When the whole dancing bit happens in the Kingdom, Ambrosius tries to keep Ballister as close as he can but apparently the dance meant to change partner every once in a while. In the end he forgets about holding his hand and finds that holding anyone's hand while dancing and moving around to the music is just as thrilling.

>But then they end chest to chest anyways and smiling at eachother wiwiw (like the art in this post by unironicallyresurrected waaa)

-Maybe something and something and Ballister loses his arm when the director tried to kill him, some way. Ambrosius' tears only fixed the injury and blood lose but it was already almost completely detached from Ballister's body, so it just laid there jsdfk

>How did he manage to cut Ambrosius' hair I have no idea, don't ask me 😭 maybe Nimona made act of presence at some point, I have no idea where to put her here, I doubt she'd be down after a smack from the Director in the same way it happened to Pascal sdfkj

>(But anyways wouldn't it be cool if she jumped to defend Ambrosius? pipipi is like Eugene and Maximus teaming up but it's Ambrosius and Nimona sdjfks)

-When Ballister and Nimona take Ambrosius with the king and queen, they step back and watch the whole family reunion go by and they're like :) bc hey look at the guy, he's crying his eyes out and hugging like his life depends on it to the queen, but he's happy wouu 🗣️🗣️

>Anyways, the queen's hug is the warmest hug Ambrosius' had ever received (aside from Ballister's), and it's nothing like the Director's and he can't believe he has never been hugged like this in his life.

>Then Queen Valerin pulls Ballister into the hug and encourages Nimona to get in there too but she just shifts into a bigger animal and squeezes them all into a hug.

-Ambrosius gets a better haircut maybe, or maybe he keeps the bob cut I don't know 😭 dfjkj but his hair never grows longer bc the flower's power affected it or something like with Rapunzel.

-I think Ballister would be knighted or something, and then there's Nimona who's just doing her thing of being a little menace and being Ballister's sidekick, and Ambrosius is a good prince and is very happy of finally being outside and getting to know so many people yippiee

>And the director is dust in the air wouu

-Btw the last part in the movie is like this, because I think Ambrosius would say yes the second Ballister asked him to marry him unlike my pal Rapunzel, so- 🤨 also Nimona is the main narrator like in the Nimona movie sjdkf

Nimona (narrating): And so, after years and years of begging and begging and even going to his knees by his feet... Ambrosius: I finally said yes 😌 Ballister: Hey- Ambrosius: Fine, it was me who begged 🧍 Ballister (amused): And so they all lived... Nimona and Ambrosius: Happily ever after. [Happily ever after music and celebration]

>And then there's a drunk guy blowing a kiss to the audience or something 🧍

That's it, thanks if you read till here!

[alotofpockets]

Don't touch me | Alexia Putellas x Barca!Reader

5k celebration prompt: "Don't touch me."

Woso masterlist | Words: 2k

-----

Never before have you had a relationship that lasted more than three years. Three serious relationships in the past all ended right around the three year mark, always being ended by your partner with some lame excuse like it’s not you, it’s me.

The three year curse you had started calling it in your head, no one seemed to want you after three years. While it was probably all in your head and just some big coincidence, it still lingered in your mind every time you thought about the fact that your three year anniversary with Alexia was nearing.

You wanted Alexia to be the exception to “the curse” with every bone in your body, but you knew it wasn’t only up to you. Alexia had to keep wanting you, and at the moment it felt like she didn’t.

It seemed like she was getting distant with you. Almost every conversation she had with you was about football. While the sport was important to the both of you, and you took your jobs very seriously, you were afraid that it was starting to be the only thing that was keeping the two of you together right now.

At first you thought it was just the stress of the season. You were busy too with the intense training sessions and the games being so close together. But even on your days off, she seemed distracted. You had never seen her on her phone this much.

When you’d ask her about it, she’d shake it off with a simple, “Oh it’s nothing, cariño.” A small smile sent your way, before she’d dive into her texts again. Each moment was added to a rapidly expanding list of signs that Alexia didn’t want you anymore.

It was during a team party when all the things on your list started to come together. You hadn’t wanted to go to the party with your teammates and friends, but Alexia had insisted it would be good to be away from football for once. You had taken that as a sign in the right direction, but you couldn’t have been more wrong.

The party was loud, music and laughter filled the space. It wasn’t really your scene in the first place, but you knew a lot of the girls on the theme thrived in environments like this, so you went along with it.

With a drink in your hand, you were chatting with Ingrid and Frido. Your eyes searched the bar for Alexia, who said she was going to get a drink like twenty minutes ago. When you finally found her in the crowd, your blood ran cold. 

She stood to the side with a girl you didn’t recognize. The way her face lit up as she spoke to the stranger made you realise that they knew each other. When Alexia leaned in to whisper something into the girl's ear, your stomach twisted.

You excused yourself from the girls and got up to go to the restroom. Once in the small space you looked at yourself in the mirror. Tears were welling up in your eyes, as all the puzzle pieces seemed to fall into place.

The texts, distance, meetings outside of the regular football ones, and now watching her with this girl. She was seeing someone else? You’ve had shitty break-ups and stupid reasons as to why thrown to your face, but cheating? That was a new low. 

How could she? All the hope you had left for your relationship to beat your three year curse flowed away with the water you let run down your hands. You splash your face with the tab water before you enter the bar again. 

You wanted to go home, but you felt bad about just leaving, so you decided on just going back to Ingrid and Frido. That is until you saw that Alexia was walking towards you, “Hola cariño, I missed you.” She puts her arm around your shoulder but you’re quick to shake it off.

“Don’t touch me.” you say to gritted teeth. She moves her arm away quickly, but full of confusion. “What’s wrong?” You take a step back, “It’s fine, I just need some space.” Before Alexia could say anything, you had turned on your heels and ran out of the bar. You faintly heard her call after you, but you didn’t turn around.

You had called a cab and got them to drive you to your apartment to grab some clothes and gear you needed, and then drive you to your friend’s house. Luckily your friend didn’t ask too many questions when you showed up on their doorstep with a suitcase and a backpack slung over your shoulder. Your tear stained face combined with the time probably said enough. She simply stepped aside, offered you a hug, and said “Stay as long as you need.”

After slumping down on her couch, she let you be. Only coming back to offer you a pillow and some blankets. Grateful for her understanding, you got comfortable on her couch. 

As comfortable as you could be while playing what happened at the bar over and over in your head. Alexia’s confused face when you pushed her away sent a pang of guilt to your chest, but you had to remind yourself that seeing her with that girl hurt you. You tried fighting back the tears, but they came anyway.

The next morning you wake up to a note saying your friend had left for work, but that you were free to stay and take whatever you needed from the fridge. You pick up your phone to check the time to see your phone bombarded with messages. Amongst a few of your teammates checking in on you since they didn’t see you leave the bar, you saw Alexia’s name pop up.

Alexia: Cariño, what’s going on?

Alexia: Please talk to me

Alexia: I don’t understand what happened. I am worried about you

Alexia: Please just let me know that you are somewhere safe

As much as she had hurt you, you couldn’t leave her messages unanswered.

You: I’m staying at Lauren’s. See you at practice

It felt weird texting her, and you were definitely not feeling up to seeing her. But you had a job to do, so you got ready for training nonetheless. 

When you got to practice, you hid behind a fake smile. You sat down at your usual spot next to Alexia, to make sure nothing seemed off to the rest of the team, but you didn’t speak to her. 

“Where did you go last night?” Ingrid asks from across the room.“Oh, my friend texted me with an emergency so I had to help her out, all good now though.” Everyone seemed to buy your lie, besides Alexia of course.

“Can we talk?” She whispered so that only you could hear her. “Later.” You said without making eye contact. Knowing that if you looked at her, you would break. You tie your laces and make your way over to the pitch without another word.

If anyone noticed the distance between you and Alexia, they didn’t say anything. You were keeping up your fake smile and tried to be as positive as you could, so no one would question you about something being up.

Alexia on the other hand seemed less composed. You felt her gaze on you during the whole training session. She seemed hesitant with her interactions, wanting to approach you, but not wanting to over step. Which clearly she had done yesterday, even if she hadn’t known what caused that.

The training session seemed to go on forever and Alexia’s eyes on you weren’t making it go by any quicker. Once the session finally came to an end, you quickly made your way over to get out of there as fast as you could, but Alexia sniffed out your plan quick enough to interfere. 

She pulled you aside and kept walking away from the rest of the team. “Please can we talk now? If you need space, I will give you space, but I need to know what I did wrong.” You looked her in the eyes for the first time then and saw the hurt and vulnerability in them. 

“Fine.” You sighed, and stopped so you could talk properly. “What happened last night?” Her voice was soft, like she was on the verge of breaking down. You crossed your arms over your chest, “You really don’t know?”

“Cariño, please. If I knew what happened, I wouldn’t have stayed up all night worrying about you.” Her lip quivered, but she continued. “One minute we are fine, and the next you’re pushing me away. I don’t know what happened, I don’t understand.”

“The girl.” You said bitterly. “The girl you were so cosy with at the bar is what happened. Who was she, Alexia?” Her brows furrowed, trying to figure out which girl you meant. 

“Oh, cariño, no. That is not what you’re thinking. Lo siento, lo siento mucho.” Your arms were still crossed over your chest when Alexia took a small step towards you. “That was Maia, she’s been helping me plan a surprise for you.” 

“A surprise for me?” Alexia nodded instantly. “Sí, para ti. For our anniversary.” 

Tears started streaming down your face when it started to dawn on you. “The texts, and you being distant was all because you were planning a surprise?” Alexia nodded guiltily. “Sí cariño. But I am so sorry, I didn’t realise how it was looking from your end. I never wanted to hurt you.”

You finally uncrossed your arms and reached out for Alexia, who instantly pulled you in for a hug. “Lo siento.” She whispered into your ear over and over again as she held you close. 

While the comfort of her embrace was perfect, you still had to talk about what was going on in your head. “Alexia, I-” You stepped out of her hold. “I’ve been so scared. You know how I’ve never had a relationship longer than three years?” She nodded.

“Well, when you were starting to get distant, I thought the stupid curse was back to ruin us.” Alexia shook her head and brought you in closer again. “Cariño, no. I love you, and I don’t care about some stupid curse. I want you now and forever.” 

“But it felt like you didn’t want me anymore, like all we talked about was football. It was like there was no connection between us besides football.” Another tear rolled down your cheek. Alexia wiped it away instantly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realise I was making you feel this way. I was so focussed on planning the perfect surprise that I forgot to show you how much you mean to me everyday.”

“What can I do to make it up to you, cariño?” You let her pull you back in for another hug. “For starters, let’s pick up my stuff from Lauren’s so I can come back home. And then I need us to communicate better, and be more present in our relationship, even when our mind is elsewhere.” Alexia nodded along, “I promise. I never want to lose you.”

“I don’t want to lose you either.” You pecked her lips softly. “Come on, let’s get changed and pick up your stuff.”

She takes your hand and walks you back towards the training facility. “So, a surprise?” Alexia smiled and nodded, “Yeah, but I can totally tell you everything about it, if that will make things better. Just say the word.” You squeeze her hand, “I think it can stay a surprise, just don’t go all distant again, please.” 

She pulled your intertwined hands up to her lips and placed multiple kisses on the back of your hand, “Never again, cariño, never again.”

-----

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[oukabarsburgblr]

Hi! Love your work! I dont know if your requests are open but Id love to see more of your Haikyuu work! Loved the the recent one and i just cant stop rereading it.

I wonder what would happen if reader was hit on by one of the other volleyball players before/after the matches. I just wanna see the three boys get jealous and protective honestly hahahd ofc if you dont want to write this its okay too! ( Ps. I also love ur Daisuke one, i love him hes so cute 🥰🥺 cant wait to see more of ur work )

drabble...aftermath of Karasuno

taglist : @ayuxiru @tehyunnie @rainnyydaysworld @webwanderer

i stopped working on my haikyuu fics bc i started s4 and i could NOT see atsumus face HAHHAHH idky i HATE HIM ARGH/jk. We love Daisuke in this household. Can anyone tell Daichi is my favourite? HAHA

this will be the last one for the crows CAW CAW

harassed, dark in general

Find out more under the cut!

[SCENARIOS LOADING...]

Another team harasses the manager!

[START SCENE]

"Hey! Karasuno's manager! Don't make such an ugly face."

A certain (h/c) frowned, being cornered by tall volleyball players from other schools. He had just went to retrieve the paper rosters from the organizers for their current tournaments at the Sendai Gymnasium where Preliminaries are being held when he was stopped by students from other schools.

"You look like you don't have a lot on your hands right now. Why don't you come with us? Free some tension...you probably need it." A hand grasped (m/n)'s shoulders to which the (h/c) swatted it away. "Don't touch me." He hissed as he tried to move past them but another shoved him back against the walls, them moving closer to the manager.

"Hey hey. We're all friends here, right?" Hissing in pain as the hand lodged in his shoulder pressed his nails further, crinkling his black jumpsuit. "Listen here, fucker. I don't know what household you grew up in, but go ride someone else's dick. Better yet, why don't you go suck each other off? Since you're so desperate for some action."

(m/n) spat, his foul mouth and his temper wasn't a good combination but it was the right mixture for this situation. He pushed the players' arm and was ready to leave until his hair was clenched painfully.

A yelp from (m/n) and the ringleader of the group pulled his face close. "Nice face but a repulsive tongue...damn and I thought we could do this nicely. We'll find a use for your mouth soon." "Let go, asshole-"

Fuck, who do they think they are? The only one grabbing my hair is usually-

"I suggest you let him go."

A heavy voice uttered from behind them, catching the attention of the group. Asahi clasped the hand that seized (m/n)'s head. "Before I break your wrist." He muttered with a death glare, the light in his eyes gone.

"Fuck! Is he the coach or something?!" One of them whispered, scanning his mature features. Someone grasped (m/n)'s hand, pulling him away from the group. "Learn how to take a hint when someone says they don't like you." Sugawara pushed the manager behind him.

"Or go die in some random dump, you trash."

He stated blandly, his voice losing any cheery tone he would always carry. How ironic. (m/n) could never be more glad that the third years were here, clenching the papers in his hand. He felt someone gently pull his bicep.

"Go." Daichi muttered. "The team's around the corner. Go see Kiyoko for..." He brushed (m/n)'s head, where his hair was tousled.

The only one who would usually, or rather the only one, grabbing (m/n)'s head, tugging his hair, digging their nails into his scalp was Daichi Sawamura.

The (h/c) didn't think twice to leave the scene, not leaving a glance to the yelling players who had harassed him, Daichi particularly approaching the one who had pulled (m/n)'s hair.

-

He didn't want to be here anymore, (m/n) lazily draped himself across the railings. Only one manager was allowed on the benches so he and Yachi had to sit up in the audience' seats but he asked for some alone time from Yachi, her concerned about him after hearing that he was disturbed by a team from another school earlier.

Hinata had jumped up and about when (m/n) returned to their team, demanding to know who had hurt his friend and Kiyoko checked his scalp, making sure nothing was broken and everything was fine. Tanaka was adamant on being a good senior and wanting to avenge his manager so he went to help the third years who were confronting the aggressors but immediately retreated, staying quiet when Ennoshita asked what they were up to.

The games started and the first match went well, battling up against a two meter player. Daichi didn't speak to him yet. (m/n) noticed a bruise forming on Asahi's jaw and Sugawara only smiled at him quietly.

Second game came around and (m/n) held back a flight of curses from his mouth when the team Karasuno had to play against were the same players who had cornered him earlier, their captain glaring holes into Daichi. He noticed a few of them were missing, specifically the bitchy ringleader.

"Hey, (m/n). Thought you'd be down there this time."

Oikawa approached his cousin, leaning onto the railings in a similar fashion to the (h/c). "I guess all third years in your team is staying huh." He poked (m/n). "Yeah." He mumbled. "Looks like yours too."

(e/c) glanced at the Seijoh team that were currently watching over Karasuno's briefing by their coach. He noticed a new player. Someone that has a tennis ball for a head.

"Well, we're gonna beat Shiratorizawa this year. I'm gonna show Ushiwaka who's boss." "You say that at every game." The setter slapped (m/n)'s back, the latter yelping and smacking his laughing cousin. "So gloomy and for what? Your team seems to be energetic-...well they're playing more aggressive than usual."

Asahi slammed the ball set by Kageyama, earning a point as the libero was unable to receive the spinning ball. The ace looked furious, his eyebrows furrowing as he asked Kageyama for a faster set. Sugawara was itching to get on the court, pacing around, warming his legs up so he could be ready when he had a chance to play. Daichi was silent, his usual words of affirmation to the team gone. Only Tanaka and Nishinoya cheering when they won a point.

"We're going to win. Against them at least." Daichi muttered, his eyes gazing up at (m/n) when Coach Ukai took a timeout and asked what was wrong and why their play styles had differ today.

(m/n) stared back but quickly looked away when he felt butterflies in his stomach. He couldn't tell what those insects were trying to tell him. Daichi had warmed his bed a lot for the past month, even his parents assumed he was his boyfriend by how often he had came over to his house.

Karasuno won a fast game. Two sets straight, 25 - 17 and 25 - 13. The last set where all the third years were deployed went by quick, Asahi shining as the MVP.

"Well, that's my cue. I wonder when we'd play against you, it'd be any different." "....It will." Oikawa raised an eyebrow. "Thought you'd support me this time. Given how your team lost on our last match." "But they'll win."

(m/n) peered at Oikawa, from the corner of his eyes. "My team will win beating yours, Tooru." The setter only stared down at the manager with a smirk.

"What's with the change of heart?" "..."

He didn't reply, only getting up to greet the team as he stood in the hallways, letting Hinata crash into him. Sugawara pulled the middle blocker off of him. "Now now. Stop causing trouble or Takeda-sensei won't let us watch the other teams play." They were done for the day and as requested by Kageyama, they went to see Seijoh's match.

Sugawara held (m/n) behind however, letting the team go first as they stood in an isolated staircase. He ran his fingers through (h/c) hair, his eyes squinting at the manager as he smiled reassuringly. "I hope you're alright, (m/n). We beat them for you. Those idiots. People who have nothing else to do but lay their waste on innocents like you."

The (h/c) hummed uneasily, leaning his head on the setter's shoulders and his fingers clutching onto the latter's jersey. "I didn't mean to talk to them. They cornered me." "I know, I know." Sugawara cooed, his other hand caressing (m/n)'s back.

A similar but earlier incident had happened, whereas a student confessed to the (h/c), who declined but Hinata excitedly told the team and Sugawara had an outburst in private, accusing (m/n) of cheating behind their backs despite them having no declaration, only taming (m/n) into their current relationship.

"Did I ever scare you? You look at me like I'm going to snap your neck at any second." The setter teased, his hand trailing over (s/c) neck, his fingertips pressing onto (m/n)'s Adam's apple. "No. You wouldn't." That was a bluff.

He had learned that Sugawara had the most violent tantrums out of the three. Paranoid, spiralling about what (m/n) does when he wasn't around. The (h/c) had learned what to say, what to do overtime, to ease the third year.

Said third year smiled at him. "If anyone ever approaches you, like earlier, scream our names okay." He always made sure to include Daichi and Asahi. "Remember, you're our favourite."

He winked at the (h/c) who didn't give much of a reaction, only hugging the setter. Was there any difference between those assholes and the third years in Karasuno? Both of those groups forced him, into these uneasy situations, Karasuno taking a longer approach.

Crows tend to build their nests with meticulous resolve, choosing the right twigs and taking the softest materials for the lining. Karasuno did live up to their name, (m/n) completely accepting his predicament, laying in the den Daichi, Sugawara and Asahi had woven for him.

Sugawara pulled (m/n)'s face up, smiling at him before pressing his lips to the (h/c) who opened his mouth when the setter swiped his tongue on his lips. "Let me hear you, (m/n)." The setter muttered as he pressed his wet muscle against (m/n)'s caressing his palate and pressing their bodies closer.

"Mmnff ahh! N-Not here Suga- ahk!" (m/n) choked when he felt a hand cupping his crotch, his breath shaky and coming out in stutters as he pushed Sugawara's chest. His cheeks were hot and he clenched his fist on Suga's jersey.

"Hahaha is it because we're in public? You'd be much more in trouble with Asahi then." The setter pulled away, letting (m/n) breathe as he dragged him up the stairs and they stepped into the auditorium seating. "Go. You owe me a date for this." He kissed the (h/c)'s forehead before pushing him to the row where Asahi and Daichi were.

The setter walked past them, opting to sit beside the second years, distracting them when they asked where was the manager. Said manager stood nervously, Asahi and Daichi silent, both of them sat in the furthest behind row, whereas everyone was sitting close to the railings to watch the games.

Usually (m/n) had no problem conversing with them, the third years constantly talking first but here they are staying silent. "...Good game." He referred to the two sets they stole from those assholes.

The captain didn't even look at him, only staring into space with a frown on his face. Asahi spared him a glance before beckoning the (h/c) to sit next to him. But as he was about to sit, the brunette pulled his arm, making him land in Asahi's lap instead.

"Huh? What are you-" He was silenced by Daichi's glance, his heart racing as Asahi adjusted him, placing him directly on top his crotch. "Sorry, (m/n)." The ace buried his face into the (h/c)'s shoulders. "Let me borrow you for a bit."

Here? In public? Where anyone could see him being used like a fucking-

His hands shook as he tried to peel himself off Asahi, but the latter only tightened his hold, crushing his waist with his muscular arms. "I'm sorry." The brunette mumbled apologies and (m/n) could feel his erection pressing up against his pants. He prayed the others wouldn't turn around. Daichi didn't move a finger, (m/n) couldn't read his face as he hopelessly squirmed in Asahi's lap.

He's going to see. He's going to look at me and see me like this.

His heart was beating fast, the ace still breathing heavily behind him and grinding his bottom on him. Daichi still didn't give any reaction. (m/n) felt his heartstrings pulled as the captain didn't give a damn of what was happening to him. Unintentionally, he glorified- favoured? Treasured the ravenette the most, the one who always seemed so distant from him yet was so close and quick to clog his throat-

Tears welled up in his (e/c) eyes as he turned his face away when he saw Tsukishima glanced at him from the corner of his sight. He genuinely prayed that no one else would see him in this shameful state.

Asahi stopped bucking his hips when a high pitched heave escaped from the (h/c)'s throat, (m/n) holding in a sob as he carved his nails into the ace's arm. "Shh...it's fine. No one saw anything. They just think you're sitting on me." He whispered into the manager's ear who shook his head. Tsukishima saw him and he was one of the smart ones. The rest of Karasuno hadn't seen but what about the other teams? Strangers who might pass by their rows. He hated how his three seniors didn't give a damn about his pride.

Asahi didn't make himself obvious, he just wanted to loose some steam is all. In the end, he did use (m/n) like those harassers did albeit tamer than expected but the intentions were there nonetheless. (m/n) whimpered endlessly as he was placed to sit on the cushioned seat in the same one as the ace, still with Asahi seated close behind him. (s/c) hands trembled as he peered at the captain who cruelly ignored him the entire time.

A tear slipped down his cheek as Asahi cooed at him, apologising and kissing his ears while rubbing his waist. Ensuring the (h/c) that he didn't even got off or anything as he whispered sweet nothings with his apparent boner pressing against (m/n)'s back. The manager was much more prone to crying when they were in public.

His hands hugged Azumane's as he leaned back into the ace's body, his attempt to hide his figure as he pulled on the ace's black jacket. "Hic- you're so fucking- mean to me." (m/n) whined as Asahi peppered kisses all over his face, his stubble scratching against his skin.

"I won't do it again." The ace muttered, placing his chin on the manager's head. (m/n) peered up and noticed the forming bruise. His fingers went to delicately trace them. "I knocked his teeth out." Asahi mumbled.

"Would've done more if their manager hadn't come running." (m/n) flinched when he heard Daichi utter. The first he spoke around the (h/c) after the whole harassment he suffered.

Coarse rough fingers covered his eyesight, a fingertip pressing against his right eye lightly, brushing his lashes and the ace placed his face down where (m/n) had his hair violently tugged. "Tell me if you want him to lose more."

(m/n) didn't say anything, only nodding as he let the ace touch his body, caressing his chest and inhaling his scent. He didn't feel bad for the attackers at all. They dug their own grave for being assholes.

He caught Daichi staring at him, the captain still facing straight but his eyes gazed into the (h/c)'s face as he slowly returned his focus back onto Seijoh's match.

(m/n) managed to pull himself off of the ace when the games were over and Karasuno was preparing to leave. He made sure he avoided Tsukishima, not wanting to answer any of his probing questions. He had went ahead to wash the water bottles at a pipe when he heard footsteps behind him.

He looked behind him to see Daichi with the bottle carrier, the captain picking up the clean ones and placing it in its stations while (m/n) finished up the last one. A rare act of kindness from the captain to the (h/c). "Are there any others left?" (m/n) shook his head to Daichi's question.

The captain staring at him with dead eyes and (m/n) noticed the small blot of red on the edge of his knuckles. He didn't say anything, carefully pulling Daichi's hand and placing it under the tap, letting the water flow and washing the ravenette's hand.

Said ravenette stared down at him with his usual silence. At times like this, (m/n) could never tell what the captain was thinking. Was he observing on what he would do? No. Daichi was too confident in his...work. Of what he made of (m/n) (l/n).

Maybe he expected it. (s/c) fingers rubbed the knuckles, ridding the smell of blood and dirt as Daichi stood directly behind the manager. "Did they hurt you?" The manager shook his head again. "I'm fine. They didn't do much."

He could feel eyes boring into the back of his head, the captain glaring holes at the part where they pulled (m/n)'s hair. "It's good for you to know."

Know what? The manager wanted to ask but opted to stay quiet instead. He could feel Daichi leaning into his (h/c) hair, them letting the faucet run under their intertwined hands.

"No one else can hurt you." (m/n) carefully turned his head around and found black eyes staring down at him. "Not Suga and not even Asahi..." The captain muttered, his other hand gripping the manager's jaw, the latter letting out a small gasp.

"Only me. And it will stay that way as long as I'm here." He muttered, leaning so close to (m/n)'s face, the other baring a blank expression, knowing and not daring to show any sign of fear.

"Be aware and be good....I'll take care of you."

The (h/c) nodded, the grip on his jaw loosened and suddenly he was enclosed with a kiss. Daichi pressed against the manager and bit his lower lip, prompting moans as (m/n) shakily wrapped his arms around the captain's neck, his knees weak.

Both of them leaned against the sink and there was a faint sound of an ambulance siren that could barely be heard over the shaky gasps and lustful moans the manager spilled from his throat. It was wrong to love your abuser. (m/n) wouldn't call it love.

He would never care for someone like Daichi.

But he couldn't leave. There was no option for someone like him, he could only embrace and lay in the nest the third years made for him. A good first year to embrace their devilish intent.

[END SCENE]

I planned like a smut scene where daichi fucks him but im tired of writing smut tbh. Like i need inspo. But if u didnt notice daichis hand was bloodied bc he did sumth to the harassers which is why theres an ambulance in the last part.

Someone requested a sick scenario where reader gets sick and third years feel bad for him but tbh they wouldnt feel bad. Its just more of an excuse to fuck him over and ill give a very SIMPLE drabble for that bc ive delayed this way for too long

[SCENARIOS LOADING...]

(m/n) falls sick and the third years takes good care of him!

[START SCENE]

"Mmhhaa mmngg ahnn!"

(m/n) cried as he clutched onto Asahi's gakuran, his back against the wall and his legs wrapped around the ace's waist. The brunette's cock deep in him as they hid in an isolated bathroom stall, the third year pulling him in before classes were starting.

It was the norm for him. And he thought his body could adjust but he wouldn't notice he was slowly falling apart with how frequent the third years was using him for a quick fuck.

"T-Too fast! Ahn! Mmmn ahn ah ah!" His legs were shaking as Sugawara held his hips as he pounded his ass, the setter biting onto the manager's bare shoulder. The setter had whisked (m/n) away during their lunch break, him pulling the first year into the empty clubroom and bent him over the table to fuck his ass. He laughed when he found out Asahi had gotten to him first.

Daichi rarely took him during school hours or even school grounds for that matter. It was always the other two filling his ass up or suffocating his throat.

(m/n) choked as his head was pushed deeper into Asahi's crotch, his body naked as he sucked and licked at the dick while Sugawara was behind him shotgunning his bottom while grinding onto his naked butt. Saliva and precum was dripping onto the gym closet floor.

Sugawara always hold the keys and he'd use it as an excuse to stay behind, forcing (m/n) to help just for him to push him onto his knees and forced his cock into his mouth.

The manager knew his body wasn't feeling well that day. Seven rounds of sex in 8 hours was a record for him and a threesome in the mix? He went home sick and woke up with a sore throat and a burning fever.

(m/n) didn't go to school and he was glad he got to recover in his own bed but his mother suddenly barged in saying that his friends and his boyfriend were there to see him. The third years had neutral expressions when they entered his room, Sugawara easily conversing with his mother as she left the room, leaving her son alone with the monsters.

"I can't believe you actually got sick. I thought you were faking it so you could avoid me today." Sugawara grinned, sitting on the edge of (m/n)'s bed and placing his hand on the manager's forehead, pulling away and pulling out a fever plaster to paste it on the manager.

"I told you he was sick. He could barely stand when we were walking home and you thought he was faking it? You're scary, Sugawara." Asahi muttered to which the setter snapped back at him and they both argued over who had pushed (m/n) too far on yesterday's events.

Daichi ignored the two as he walked over to the bed, (m/n) could barely open his eyes, his skin hot and his head aching. He felt a hand pulling down his blanket and someone pushing his shirt up. A cold wet palm laid flat on his belly. The (h/c) squirmed but embraced the cool, his chest heaved up and down with slow breaths.

"Get better. Soon." The captain ordered. His dark eyes staring blankly at the manager. Sugawara turned to (m/n) and placed a kiss on his cheek. "You heard the captain." "Make sure to stay away from Suga."

The setter continued to yell at the ace, moving off of the bed and Daichi took the opportunity to take his place, his eyes now locking with (e/c) as he brushed his hand against (m/n)'s cheek fondly. "...I'll take care of you. I said I would." The ravenette muttered, the hand he had washed earlier trailing from his stomach to his chest, his hand under (m/n)'s shirt.

Daichi would only take him in his bed, in his room at nights after practice. Now, he was sick and laying in said bed with the captain looming over him, his eyes scanning his weak features.

(m/n) couldn't do a thing, letting the third year care for his sick body. They would come over after practice bringing homecooked meals they would make at Daichi's house. Sugawara often cleaned his body, using a wet towel to cool his warm limbs or helping him into his shower where he would- this made the manager's mom became more fond of the third years, letting them into her son's room at any time she was especially too busy to check in on her precious child.

The manager knew they were some sick fucks but he didn't expect them to go that far truly. Sometimes they would grope him, offering a quickie while mocking him by bouncing the (h/c) on their lap but Daichi was quick to stop them, especially Sugawara who was a bit too happy that (m/n) was weak in his hands, too frail to push away.

Asahi didn't do much, only going through the (h/c)'s belongings, digging through photo albums and taking some of his more personal article of clothings. Stupid pervert. He didn't even bother hiding it too. Daichi would force them to leave when it was almost midnight, him staying over and sleeping on a spare futon.

He was so attentive to the (h/c)'s needs, making sure he took his medicine and eating the required nutrition he needed. He kept his promise and (m/n) was able to recover in three days, returning to school after being deemed well enough by the captain.

Oddly enough, Sugawara and Asahi didn't pounce on him the second they met. Only ruffling his hair or hugging him and saying they were glad to see him well before leaving him alone. (m/n) thought that they finally got their senses knocked into them.

Until night arrived and (m/n)'s mother made a fatal decision to allow Daichi to check her son for another time.

"D-Daichi! I c-can't- urmff! Mmngghaa- ackk!" One of his legs were being held up as he laid on his side, his mouth full with fingers and his hole throbbing around the thick dick shoved inside him. The ravenette slowly rolled his hips, feeling (m/n) tighten around him as the manager shot cum from his penis onto the bedsheets.

He loved when the (h/c) would come on his cock, fluttering walls around his base was pleasure as he quickly thrusted into the overstimulated first year, (m/n) drooling and choking on Daichi's coarse fingers.

"Three days. You have three days to compensate." Rounds of sex to reimburse the captain. Not for the care he provided. It was just more of a reason for Daichi to fill his hole and he had warned the other two not to approach him, wanting to have his ass all to himself for the next few days.

(m/n) let the captain use his hole, his body to fulfill his lust. He wasn't sick any longer and Daichi had promised to take care of him. He could only hope the ravenette doesn't have any plans to stay around him for the long-term. Excluding the fact that they were neighbours.

[END SCENE]

I just love daichi so much rahhh. Going to see the movie next week. Remember this is the last one for karasuno so dont request for this team any longer lovies💋 If karasuno was intense just imagine the power play with shiratorizawa MUAHAHAHHAHA

[johanna-swann]

I'm still so disappointed with 911. Like yes, seaon 7 was messy, but the opening disaster was great and they got a few really interesting storylines rolling despite the very difficult circumstances.

But then they got renewed really early. The conditions were lining up perfectly, everything was falling into place. And yet season 8(a) is so much worse than season 7. Just look at where we left the characters in season 7 and where they are now.

Hen (and by extension Karen) was stuck with the custody battle storyline again, but for the first time there was an antagonist involved who had not only a personal vendetta but also the power to exact her revenge on a big scale while at the same time the very same conflict also had the potential to drive a huge wedge between Hen and Chim while they try to work out their weird patchwork situation.

But all of that got resolved in a single episode that also somehow had to fit random calls, Eddie's C-plot, their weird obsession with Hotshots and whatever Bobby and Gerrard had going on. And then this very personal vendetta between Hen and Ortiz wasn't even ended by them. It wasn't Ortiz giving up / forgiving Hen or Hen defeating Ortiz fair and square, no. Bobby and Gerrard who have never even had a scene with Mara got to safe the day. And then neither Ortiz nor this storyline ever get mentioned again.

Bobby lost his job, had a major health crisis, was borderline suicidal and lost his house last season.

Then we meet him in season 8 and he's just okay, mentally and physically, he gets his job back very conveniently automatically in one swoop together with Ortiz being dealt with. The rebuilding of the house is mentioned in one episode and never again.

Athena was really worried about Bobby by the end of season 7, her son moved back in with her after having spend the last couple of years at his dad's, she also lost her home and she once again went rogue as a cop.

In season 8 she's no longer worried about Bobby, everything is okay, there are no consequences for her actions job-wise, as I said the house thing isn't really talked about and Harry? Nobody knows what happened to him.

Eddie had the whole Shannon-Marisol-Kim thing blow up in his face with huge consequences. I expected him to go back to therapy, to maybe argue with his parents, to talk to Buck or Hen about losing Christopher like this, to maybe spiral a little and finally unpack the Shannon trauma.

Instead he mentions every now and then how his son is in El Paso right now, but doesn't really get into it, he lives his everyday life as per usual, doesn't seem particularly down or stressed tbh, he doesn't go to therapy, he doesn't talk about Shannon, he doesn't talk to his parents outside of one small exposition scene in 8x01, doesn't try to talk to Christopher about what happened. Instead he talks to a priest once which has the amazing effect that he dances in his house in his underwear once. I'm sure that fixed him. Oh, also he may be uprooting his life again without talking to anyone about it. Okay.

Are Chimney and Maddie even still main characters at this point? Sure, they have a lot of screentime and they had their wedding episode last season. They also temporarily took in Mara.

But despite fostering Mara, they had nothing at all to do with the little Ortiz related drama we got. They were just. There. In the background of a few scenes. I guess. We also don't see them adjusting to being married now or talk about what the future might hold for them now. They just accidentally got pregnant AGAIN and didn't really talk about the risks and implications and so on here either. It was brought up very briefly, but there was so much potential for actual discussion there instead of a one-off conversation.

Buck's the only one whose season 7 storyline really got picked up again a little. He discovered he's not straight and got himself a boyfriend last season.

They (briefly) showed us how that relationship continued - and then very abruptly ended in a very strange way. But once again they didn't pick up the queer topic. They treated Tommy like they would any other love interest which would be fine if Buck's sexuality was already established. But as a matter of fact it is not. Buck only recently discovered he's queer and we haven't seen any of the stuff that usually comes with the package. Are the Buckley parents okay with this? Has Buck chosen a label? Did he and Hen ever share a moment of solidarity? Was dating another man all of the sudden a big adjustment?

I fell in love with 911 because they had great characters, but right now the show is doing fuck all with those characters. They're all running in circles and even worse maybe, the characters feel less connected to each other than ever. Like. I'll keep up with the show via tumblr osmosis, but the show didn't deliver on a single thing in 8a. They literally did nothing right.

[chrissv4mp]

𐙚 ᯓ stupid crush — ᡣ𐭩

she didn't understand why she felt like this, why she felt so... warm. especially when you were around. any time you even came within a 5 feet radius of her, she'd feel like she was going to explode. her cheeks would heat up, and she wouldn't know how to act, what to say—she didn't even know how to breathe when you were around her. which reminded her... you were lying right on her chest, and that only made the struggle to breathe worse. she hopes you didn't notice, but with the way your hand ran across her stomach so often, she was sure you might've caught on earlier than she expected. billie had been the one to invite you over after you got off your shift, and you happily accepted her invitation because she was never really the one to ask.

so, here you were, your bodies laying on her bed as a song from your shared playlist plays at a low volume from the speaker on her nightstand. the rain from outside hit her window, the quiet pitter-patter noises making the whole scene complete. it was something straight out of some classic friends-to-lovers film. her bedside lamp was on, lighting the room up just enough so that you could see her face and she could see yours. she was counting each of the little freckles on your face as you shut your eyes, relaxing into her. she ran a hand through your hair, her fingers scratching your scalp so softly, so carefully as she lulled you even further into a sleepy state of mind. she was praying you didn't hear the fast beating of her heart as she held you, not moving too much because she was scared that she'd do something wrong and you'd leave.

she grabbed her phone from her pocket, careful not to make too much noise as she unlocked her phone and went into her voice notes. she was sure you were asleep by now, your gentle breathing and quiet demeanor, a crystal clear sign. but, as she played the most recent one, titled 'stupid crush,' she regretted not making sure that you were actually asleep. her voice erupted from the speaker on her nightstand, and the first words that were heard were, "this is fucking stupid. i... love y/n. there was that—?" until billie finally came to her senses and paused it, the music resuming almost immediately. if her heart wasn't racing, it sure as hell was now. you stirred in your... sleep?—daze?—she didn't know, but now you were looking directly into her eyes with the... softest expression on your face. your eyes spoke for you, but billie was sure she was misreading the smile that began to creep onto your face. you were going to laugh. make fun of her—

"what's so 'fucking stupid' about that?" you giggle softly, voice slightly raspy and eyes glossed over with multiple emotions. all of which were for billie to decipher because she knew damn well she wasn't gonna get any answers from between your pretty pink lips until she finally admitted her feelings. but she didn't know what to say, and not even the music playing softly in the background calmed her anymore. she shut off her phone, tossing it to the empty side of the bed as she gulped quietly, "tell me, i'm quite interested." you sat up, sitting on her lap as you always did because you could never not be at least somewhat in her personal space. maybe that's part of what helped develop her crush on you. her stupid crush. on you. her best friend, of all people. she cleared her throat of the suffocating feeling as she sat up straighter, body tensing as she hopelessly murmured, "because you're my best friend. we're—y/n, we can't be—"

"who says we can't be together?" you scoff, a half-amused, half-annoyed look on your face. when she blinked, it was like you were a million miles closer to her, your lips inches apart, breath fanning over her face. she gulped again, eyes scurrying over to the empty side of the bed, biting on her lip nervously as she tried to think about what to say. it wasn't like she didn't want you to be her girlfriend, she was just... scared of messing it all up. when you cupped her cheek and turned her head back towards you, her eyes widened, "gimme one reason." you whisper, eyes darting down to her plump lips as you scoot closer to her body, shorts riding up your thighs. she doesn't respond, feeling frozen in the same song that just ended began to play again through the speaker, "billie," you murmur, lips only inches away from hers, almost brushing against each other as your hand travels down and wraps around the back of her neck, pulling her in closer. when your other hand comes up to her shoulder, she only then decides to speak, "because it'll be ten times harder to let you go."

"then you better hold me tight so that won't happen." you whisper before your lips crash softly against hers, pulling her closer by her neck. she doesn't pull away, your words slowly processing in her head as her own hands cautiously grab a hold of your waist, almost pulling you onto her lower abdomen in an attempt to get you closer. she wanted you two to be whole, even after all the doubt she spat out before. your words sunk deep into her heart, and now she didn't have a worry in the world. as long as you were with her, everything would be fine. she'd just have to hold you. close. tight. secure. as long as possible... and maybe even forever. she smirks against your mouth as she feels your tongue run across her lower lip, pulling away only a few inches as she opens her eyes, staring deeply into yours and never looking away, "so... i guess i should rename the voice note 'stupid girlfriend,' now?" she giggles as you roll your eyes, pushing her shoulder softly, "i think you're the stupid one."

𐙚 amiyaps : guys the landing of my flight scared the absolute SHIT out of me... cus tell me why we were dropping so fast bro 🙁

𐙚 tags : @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @mxqdii @livialifesblog @devynscomet @her-favorite @cannibalsclass @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @slxtarchive @meliciousmel13 @zayluvss @hrtsdollie

[reshinless]

hi ive been reading ur works a lot recently and i enjoy them a lot!!! i love love ur writing sm hehe

if i may, can i request for a situation in where kinich and reader are friends (but have feelings for each other), and they basically have sex in a changing room while reader was asking him for his opinion for the swimwear they’d wear?

thats all thank u and pls take lots of rest !!

so sorry but i happened to make this nsfw plus afab!reader, no real gender for reader, kinich calls them flower :3

"kin'! can you come in here really quick?" you shouted from inside the second dressing room, scanning the way you looked in the mirror, twirl, and everything.

"flower, you're aware i'm a male about to enter a female dressing room?" he raised an eyebrow, later you both agreed on attending mualani's party as she came back from an abyss hunt, or at least celebrating the fact that her tribe continues to strive.

but neither of you really swam too often, resulting in no real swimwear you both regularly wore. mualani gave you a few recommendations, but you really couldn't decide.

"jus' get in here, need you for this!" you exclaimed. hesitance clear in his steps, shit you needed him? he felt his swim trunks tighten as he heard that. he already chose clothes out earlier, just finding whatever was nearest to his hair's color and went with it.

he sat right outside the stalls of the ones you changed inside. still reluctant about stepping in to assist you with "choosing a color"? shit maybe he had to check if he got the wrong size on his swimwear.

damn, maybe the moonlight-colored one looked better. or- no, maybe the one that matched your eyes.. shit what about the one that were the color of his?! he couldn't decide, but it was paradise getting to see you try different things on.

what smart, and bright idea did you have in mind that made you think it'd be a good idea to have him in the same damn room as he was while you changed.

the drop of your clothes only turned him on more, his ears turning a crazier shade of crimson. once you let him finally look, and turn around to let him get a three-sixty view of the next choice. getting a pretty little view of your ass, letting his eyes dip down a little too low when you turned back around to give a view of the front as well.

"well whaddya think!" you flash a soft smile, your hands on your waist. kinich has a hand over his mouth, in an attempt to cover the splices of his cheeks that transitioned to scarlet.

he starts walking closer, caressing his hands over your curves, every inch that he can reach, slowly exploring your body.

oh, well here you were—getting your cunt fucked crazy, letting your front face the mirror beautiful as he pounded your ass, nails dig into the soft flesh blissfully. "ssshit flower... you feel better than I imagined." he coos as the thickness of his dick hit your g-spot so heavenly.

it felt as though you sucked in his shaft perfectly. god if your pussy could speak for yourself, it'd be moaning the same way you were right now.

you could already feel the knot in your stomach tighten at the thought of this moment. "k- kin'.. ahh- fffuck anyone c- could walk in!" he chuckles with a sinister tone, raspy throat from groaning praise out into the shell of your ear, sending a few licks to it, making you shudder in pleasure.

"that's the thrill of it, pretty." he tilts your head up to make you look at the sexy scene in front of you, the mirror fogging up each time you whine, and sobs of pleasure from how it felt having someone inside you for the first time.

the calloused pads of his palms caressed your waist, his fingers marking not-so-deep crimson marks into your body. he slammed the very base of his cock into your cervix, making sure you felt everything, every inch, and width of his dick to your innermost parts.

the bliss of getting to feel every little building block fall into place as he continues his relentless pace into you. gushing your sobs, making sure they're quiet enough so the people outside wouldn't hear the way you wailed his name but loud enough for him to get turned on each damn time. your incessant pants definitely would've made it obvious to every person who passed by.

holy shit—if you kept squeezing onto him like that, he might just cum inside you and leave for the party, letting it drip as you both traveled over to toyac.

the seat underneath you creaked, "kin'! fuck," you whined as he shushed you again, fingers fitting nicely into your mouth. "q- quiet baby.. i know y'r close.." his eyes closely observed the way your chest rose, and fell, addicted to the way your body had hurried reactions to how good his cock felt up your entrance.

"y'knew haa- 'bout how i'd react nnnh- didn't you, sweetheart? hnnn-" he whispered next to the shell of your ear once more, filled with sultry lust—kissing your cheek. his hands roamed your body, feeling you up and down as much as he could.

"wan- no. need to cum together, baby.. cum with me." he sounded as if to plead, but his emerald-amber orbs you saw in the mirror spoke out in hunger, a starved man who only wants even more of your essence all over his cock.

there it was—sticky loads of milky-white released into you. kinich's hand reached under to feel the bulge he made into your stomach. he places a deep love mark into your neck as he moans into your skin. arching your back away from his chest unlike how previously you could feel his clenched abs on your spine.

"f- fffuck!" you had to cover your mouth since his digits removed themselves out and from your mouth. kinich sends swipes and licks over your collarbone and nape.

after a few minutes of breathy pants, and whimpers. he left himself inside you for a bit, lifting you up to face him as he sat down against he mirror this time instead of back shotting you from behind—

"so.. i get the feeling that you like this one the most?" you looked down onto the swimsuit that matched—even complimenting his, mualani would tease you two about it, but to be fair it is you two.

"..i'll buy it for you."

[ennn]

Let's appreciate how complex Agatha's relationship with Billy is

GIF credit to @isagrimorie

The genuine emotion brimming from Agatha in this moment is very interesting and I really want to break down all the layers of how Agatha is relating to Billy—because it is truly not as simple as Agatha feeling sentimental or motherly to Billy.

There are a few layers at work here (and I also want to give a shout-out to @trickofthelights for her excellent recap points):

Billy reminds Agatha (enough) of herself

There are two driving forces at the core of Agatha as a character. We know this because her characterisation has been incredibly consistent throughout the show and Schaeffer has talked about them, which is: (a) Agatha is self-serving and (b) Agatha loves powerful witchcraft.

Billy is a powerful witch who did a horrifying thing in order to survive. He's been lying to these wonderful parents. He also just tried murdering three people in a fit of rage, provoked by Agatha no less.

Would Agatha care if he was less powerful? Would Agatha care if he didn't have a dark side? If he hadn't shown to be duplicitous and dangerous and subject to his darker impulses?

If he wasn't alone and without a coven, a possible outcast even among witches because of his unusual origins and power?

I'm pretty sure the answer is no, she would not. She would have dismissed him the same way she did his "Teen" persona. Agatha doesn't care about witches, Agatha cares about powerful witches –because that's who Agatha is and what drives her.

And we also got hints of this with Agatha and Wanda (hello consistent characterisation). In Schaeffer's words:

There is respect and almost affection inherent in [Agatha's interest in enormously powerful witchcraft], as indicated by how she felt about Wanda. She was mean to Wanda, but really she was fascinated by Wanda and admired her and wanted to hang out with her. 

And if this wasn't clear enough, what Agatha tells Billy shortly later about breaking the rules and being a true witch just screams projection (more on that in my next point).

I was delighted that Agatha really did bounce back from the attempted murder – but it's not because she's forgiving. Oh no, I think, Agatha was testing her theory by poking the bear (calculated move, bad at math) and she's glad she was proven right.

I mean, she not happy about the attempted murder but her curiosity wins out. You see her poking at Billy and trying to figure him out in the rest of this scene.

Agatha also hates self-righteous moralising and searches out for the darkness in people – delights in it even – because she knows people and she knows her own darkness.

Billy is different but also not so different from Agatha, as much as Billy or his mom would hate to admit.

Agatha is dealing with her childhood trauma

Yes, Agatha is projecting on Billy, but she makes a choice about it. We hear her telling him what she would have wanted someone to tell her: that they shouldn't be afraid or ashamed of who they are or what they did to survive, that they are part of a community.

Don't you dare feel guilty about your talent. ... That's what kept you alive. That's what makes you special. That's what makes you a witch.

She's trying to be the person she needed when she was a child, because she simply doesn't want someone else – particularly a younger witch – going through what she did.

She doesn't want anyone to go through what her mother put her through. And that's a choice.

Because there are a number of ways a character can deal with trauma: they can lash out and bring others down, wanting others to experience to the pain they went through, or they can realise that what happened to them shouldn't happen to anyone else in their position.

There's something beautifully self-serving but also selfless in that, because this is a way for Agatha to heal from her trauma. She can tell Billy things she may not be able to tell herself.

And it's interesting because as a self-serving villain, Agatha could just be jealous of Billy's power. But in this moment at least, Agatha's empathy and compassion – as buried as they usually are – prevail.

And yes, Agatha was fond of kid Billy

This is what Schaeffer touched on in her interview answer and it makes sense, with the insight that Agatha – like any good actor – does invest a bit of herself in every role she plays.

Agatha does have feelings (as much as they might make her vomit) and I do believe she has a soft spot when it comes to kids, given her experience with her son and her own childhood trauma. And that kids don't have the level of hypocrisy and darkness that adults do.

It makes sense that Agatha would have some level of care about the Scarlet Witch's magical kid Billy. And that is a fondness that has carried onto teenage Billy – who is powerful and a survivor and has a potential for darkness in a way she can relate to.

There are layers and they intersect and it all ties back to how Agatha is incredibly complex and yet consistent as a character.

[loving-barnes]

LOGAN HOWLETT - PROM

A/N: As I already mentioned, I have developed a huuuuuge crush on Wolverine.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant female reader

Warning: smut

Please, do not read if you are under 18. This story has sexual scenes.

Words: 6600+

Important note: The reader has long hair, did my best to not describe her at all. ALSO, I know Wolverine is like 160cm but... I forgot about tha that so, he's a tall MF. (They kinda fucked that up in some of the movies, so whatever.)

FULL MASTERLIST | LOGAN HOWLETT MASTERLIST

Logan Howlett - Prom

A peaceful evening, that’s what he wanted. Once the students were in their room, Logan could finally have some time off with a bottle of beer that he was able to sneak into the school. And since he knew no one would be in the lounge room at this hour, he grabbed the beer and walked there. To his surprise, he was met with Y/N sitting there. 

She was surrounded by papers. It seemed she was grading some essays. He observed her. The way her body hunched over the papers, how her head was low, he knew she was almost asleep. But then her head fell a little and she made a sound. Shaking it, she whispered “shit” under her nose and continued to work on the essays. 

“Go to bed,” Logan said when he fell on the leather couch. 

Y/N’s head lifted, frowning at her colleague and friend sitting there as if he owned the whole damn place. “I need to finish this tonight.”

“You need to rest,” he talked back, annoyed by her stubbornness. 

Her eyes followed his every move. The way he sipped the beer, how relaxed he was on the couch and his eyes kept checking out the papers all over the place. “No, I need to grade. Only a few more left.” 

Y/N taught English and literature in the school. She wanted to have this out of her neck before she would give them another assignment - that is, if someone would piss her off again, like the last time.

“Need any help?” he offered. 

She kinked a brow and grinned. “Have you read The Great Gatsby?” she asked.

“No.”

“Then, unfortunately, you cannot help,” she said with a teasing smile. 

“So, what did the kids do to deserve to write an essay?” he asked. His eyes never stopped following her hands over the table as she went through all the papers. 

She sighed and put a grade C on the essay she finished correcting. Then she put down a comment, for the student to know what they did wrong. “One of them was rude to me. He made an inappropriate comment and the class laughed at his boldness, or as I’d like to call it, stupidity. He got detention and the whole class had to write an essay.” 

Logan chuckled. “You are strict.” 

“Well, no offence, but the kids respect you out of fear. They don’t respect me and so I punish them like this,” I glanced at him with a smile and put one of the last essays in front of me. “2500 words is not that much, to be honest. Especially when the theme is: Gender roles in The Great Gatsby.”

He opened his mouth to comment on it but then closed it. “Fair enough.” 

Y/N yawned again and rubbed her eyes. She put down the pen and stretched on the couch. “Alright, a little break won’t hurt me. Just a few minutes.”

“You will fall asleep.”

“No, I won’t,” she said with her eyes closed. 

“Yeah, you will, Y/N. Don’t argue with me. I know you well,” Logan said grumpily. He knew he was right. 

Sighing, she stood up and did more stretching, just to wake up a little. “Now, I won’t.”

He rolled his eyes and sighed at how stubborn she was, again. “Hey, is it true that Colossus is taking you to the prom?” 

Y/N stopped moving and slowly turned her attention to him. What the hell was he talking about? “What?” she was confused. “What prom? And no?”

Now it was his turn to be confused. “The prom that the Professor promised the students like a month ago. It’s this Saturday,” he reminded her. 

With her mouth agape, she sat her ass down on the leather couch, her eyes wide and unblinking. “Shit, I forgot! How could I forget? I never forget anything when it comes to my job, the kids… Shit.” 

Logan had to chuckle at her reaction. He found it quite adorable. “Y/N, you’ve been working your ass off for the kids. No wonder you forgot. It’s a good thing I reminded ya.” He drank the rest of the beer in one go. “‘Cuz I’m the best at these things.”

“Fuck, right,” she said with an irony in her voice. She wanted to smash her head against the nearest wall.

Y/N was never the one to forget anything and now, it happened. Where was her head the last few weeks? “I have no dress or shoes or anything,” she started to talk mostly to herself. The panic, tiredness and some anxiety showed in her power that she had thanks to her mutation. A forcefield started to glitch around her. 

Logan’s eyes widened. “Uh, princess, you need to calm down,” he said. “Take a few deep breaths before you hurt me.” 

Y/N’s forcefield was unique. It could protect but be deadly if she handled it correctly. 

She glared at him but did as told. She took a few deep breaths until the glitching forcefield stopped. “You know I hate that nickname,” she growled. Logan was no idiot - she was a liar. She liked those nicknames he called her.  It made him chuckle. 

“Sure,” Logan winked at her. “Lie to yourself all you want.” He enjoyed it when he could rile her up. “So, do you have a date for this prom?” he asked her again. 

“No,” Y/N replied as she started to pack all the papers. “As you didn’t already notice, old man,” she knew where to press his buttons, “I forgot about the whole thing. So, no, no date.” 

“Wait,” Logan stopped her before she could leave. “So you are telling me, that you don’t have a date? How is that possible?” 

She shrugged. “No one asked me. But it doesn’t matter anyway. I believe Bobby is taking Kitty, and Charles and Storm will be attending together. And I think Colossus will ask Angel to be his date since they have this thing going on.” 

“What if I was your date?” Logan suggested nonchalantly. His eyes were fixed on her, watching her reaction - and it was a good one. A sparkle appeared in her irises, she stopped talking and just opened and closed her mouth like a fish underwater. “We could go together if you’d like.” 

Her lips twitched to a small smile, intrigued by it. “You’d want to go with me?”

“I wouldn’t mind going as your date,” he said, his voice was a bit husky. 

“And here I thought you would like to avoid an event like this,” I shook my head in disbelief. “Too much noise, too many kids at the same place.”

“I am full of surprises, princess,” he winked at her. 

That stupid nickname made her roll her eyes. “Fine, you can be my date,” she agreed after a while. “But we still need to look after the students and be responsible teachers,” I warned him. “No booze, sir.”

“What?” he frowned, obviously not happy with that information.”Who made that rule?”

“It’s a student prom and they are all underaged,” I explained to him. “You think the Professor will allow alcohol? Ha, wake up, darling.” 

“Look who is using nicknames,” he pointed it out. “I was about to say I am excited about the whole prom thing. This changes everything. I don’t even know if I wanna go.” 

Y/N got annoyed by that comment. She gave him an evil glare. “Fuck you, Logan. And here I thought you’d be excited that I agreed to be your date. Maybe I should ask Hank to be my date.”

“Oh, come on, princess, I am messing with ya.” 

When Y/N was sure she had all her belongings, she walked away from him. “Goodnight, Logan,” she sang to him. 

She couldn’t see but Logan had a gentle smile on his face, pleased by all the teasing. There was some excitement bubbling inside of him. She agreed to go to that stupid prom with him. 

Y/N hid in her room where she finished grading the last essays. She didn’t let herself think about anything, or anyone until the work was done. Luckily, the last essays were very good and they all received an A. 

She changed into a T-shirt and shorts and got into her bed. The moment she turned the light off, she thought back to the last half an hour - to the part where Logan asked her to be his date for the school prom. 

A laugh escaped her throat. The Wolverine asked her to be his date for a school prom. How surreal. 

Her heart fluttered and her cheeks got hot. The truth was, she liked Logan a lot. There was something eye-gripping and panties-dropping about him. In the past, she would date the exact opposite men than was he. And the way Logan would mess with her, she secretly loved it. 

With him, she didn’t have to pretend to be someone she’s not.

The next few days were normal. She taught English and Literature classes and found the time to dress shop with Angel two days before the prom. She found a beautiful red dress with secret pockets on each side and an exposed back. It had a deep cleavage that would show her breasts perfectly. 

“So, found a dress yet?” Logan stopped by her side the day before the prom. He was standing close behind her, breathing in her scent. 

“Aren’t you a curious soul,” she tilted her head and grinned. “You know what they say: Curiosity killed the cat.” 

“What if I want to match a tie?” he asked innocently, to which she had to laugh. “I am serious, Y/N.” 

Y/N turned around and was met with his eyes staring into her. She pressed a book closer to her chest and smirked at him. “See, if I tell you my dress is blue, would you put on a blue tie?” 

He made a face. “No,” he said seriously. 

“So why ask if you won’t do it anyway.” 

“Come on, Y/N, tell me,” he nudged her shoulder.  

She laughed and pushed him out of her way. “I want it to be a surprise, so stop being nosy,” she winked at him and left to teach another class. 

Logan grinned when she left him standing in the hallway, but there was one person who saw the interaction - Hank. The Beast passed by him in the hallway, staring at the Wolverine, chuckling. “You two are unbelievable,” he commented. 

“Shut up,” he growled at Hank. 

“Come on, it’s… adorable,” he said the word carefully.

Logan rolled his eyes, already done with the conversation. He walked down the hallway to his class where he taught history. 

He had a thing for her and he couldn’t even lie to himself about it. Logan’s eyes would linger on her longer than necessary. He would watch her leave and stare at her back until she was gone (well, he stared at her ass, because god, it was a good ass.) 

When Saturday came, all the students were excited about this event. The girls who came up with the idea of having a prom were praised by many. The boys and men had to help set the outside with balloons, giant speakers, and other decorations. Storm and Kitty were in the kitchen preparing the drinks for the evening - making sure they were non-alcoholic. Charles forbade any kind of alcohol because the students were too young to drink. 

Logan was still pissed about it. It was one thing to go to a stupid prom with a beautiful woman by his side, which made him rethink the whole “stupid” thing. But on the other hand - no alcohol? Not even a beer? It would be difficult. 

Y/N came to the kitchen with two big boxes on top of each other, followed by Bobby who had another three, keeping them cool. Deserts arrived. They decided that finger food was the best option for this event. 

Bobby wanted to take one dessert, but his fingers were smacked by Kitty, who glared at him. “No,” she said strictly. 

“But I helped,” he pleaded. When Kitty didn’t permit him one tiny piece of cake, he left the kitchen puffy.

“Will this be enough?” Storm asked when she looked at all the boxes. 

“Maybe you should ask that boy, Dean, who can make any food with a snap of his fingers to make us something,” Y/N suggested, smiling innocently. 

“Wouldn’t that be mean?” Kitty questioned. 

Y/N only shrugged as she walked out of the kitchen. “It’s worth trying,” she then shouted at them when she was farther away. 

Logan walked inside the school just as Y/N was about to hit the upper floor. “What’s with the dumb face?” he pointed at her, curious about that smile playing on her lips. 

Her eyes squinted, giving him an annoyed expression. “Always so curious, huh?”

“And you are always so mysterious,” he smirked at her. 

“You like it, Logan,” she gave him a wink and continued walking up the stairs. 

If only she turned to see the smile on his face as he watched her walk up the stairs. “Hey,” he stopped her before she disappeared into the upper level. “Should I come for you tonight?” 

Y/N leaned against the wooden bannister. “It depends on…”

“On?” 

“What kind of movie effect do you want: ‘Princess walking down the stairs - the Princess effect’ or ‘I shall come for you, my darling to admire you in secret’.” She said the other one dramatically. “So, what do you want?” And then she made the Scales with her hands. 

She could see the wheels spinning inside Logan’s head. He thought about what he wanted to happen. And then she heard a faint “fuck” coming out of his lips. 

“Both of them sound good, huh?” she smiled brightly, showing him her white teeth. “If you don’t come by 6:30 pm, I’ll know you want the ‘Princess effect’.” And she was gone. 

That woman is a fucking tease, he thought. She did things to him and he was hard, painfully hard. Gritting his teeth, he left the hallway and went to the kitchen to fetch himself something to drink. 

When he didn’t come by 6:30, Y/N knew he decided on the ‘Princess effect’. She checked her appearance in the mirror one last time before she left her room. The prom would start at 7 pm and the teachers had to gather a bit earlier. 

Her heels clicked on the hardwood floor. She was curious to see Logan’s reaction. Hell, she still couldn’t believe he asked her to this prom. Y/N had to laugh at it. But it was thrilling. There were butterflies inside her stomach, tickling her - or was it her vagina? 

As predicted, Logan, Hank and Bobby were chatting at the stairs, all dressed in fancy suits. And from what she could see, Logan chose an all-black suit. Fuck, she thought. 

Bobby was the first one who saw her. “Wow,” he said when his eyes landed on her. “You look good, Y/N.” 

And then Logan turned and his eyes widened, observing Y/N in her long red dress. She looked gorgeous, like a princess. Fucking princess effect. 

There was a slit up her right leg to her thigh that showed up when she walked. Her breasts were screaming at him, as they were pressed against the dress and popping out. The way her hair was loose on her shoulders and her make-up and… he was fucked. Her scent surrounded his being, influencing his every sense.

“Gentlemen,” she greeted them with a soft smile. 

“Dressed to kill?” Bobby commented.

“Something like that,” she winked at him. “After all, this is my first prom ever.” 

Logan’s eyes still lingered on her face, occasionally drifting to her breasts and then up her neck to her lips and eyes again. He still didn’t say a word to her. Maybe he forgot to talk? Fuck, he forgot to breathe and exist.

“First prom?” Hank was surprised. “If that’s the case,” he looked at Logan and chuckled, “you are doing a splendid job.” He patted Bobby on his shoulder as a sign to leave Logan and Y/N alone. 

She made a face and looked at Logan. “Did the ‘Princess effect’ work?” 

He released a breath that he was holding. “You look hideous.” 

Y/N laughed out loud. She wasn’t offended, because she knew he didn’t mean it at all. “Uh-huh, sure, if you say so.” She reached her hand to his face and helped him close his mouth. “You are drooling.” 

“The fuck I am,” he rolled his eyes. Like a gentleman, he gave her his arm to grab. When she did, they walked outside. 

They looked like a deadly couple. When they arrived at the outdoor prom, everyone who was present turned their attention to them. Logan, dressed in black, which was shocking as it was, and Y/N in a sexy red dress, was a deadly combo. 

Some of the students, who were already there, stared at the couple, whispering about them. Logan could hear their whispers. Enhanced hearing was a blessing and a curse. They couldn’t believe that those two were attending together. 

Is Mr. Howlett dating Miss Y/L/N? 

How could she say yes to him?

How the hell did that happen?

More students came and the prom could finally start. The music was loud, drinks and finger food were served and the students had a great time. The teachers stood together at a drinks table, talking. Compliments were flying around. The women even admired how Logan looked in his suit, but he would grumble something under his nose. He was getting grumpier by the second. He desperately needed alcohol or anything else that would help him survive the night.

“Shit,” Y/N gasped when her eyes found Johny zapping other girls with his electric ability. “I’ll be right back.”

Logan was the first one to watch her leave, eyes travelling up and down her body. “Fuck me,” he cursed. 

“We are not blind, Logan,” Charles wheeled to his side, his eyes were in the crowd, watching as Y/N talked to the young student. “And, excuse me, but your thoughts are screaming some things that I wish I didn’t have to hear.” 

“So don’t be a creep and listen.”

Charles chuckled, shaking his head. “You should make a move, Logan.”

“We are colleagues,” he said. 

“Whatever you say. But we see the chemistry between you two. Plus, you make a good team during missions.” 

Annoyed, he turned to Charles to talk back, but the man was already talking to Kitty. Logan shook his head in disbelief. He hated to admit that what Y/N meant to him was something he wished he didn’t want to experience again - out of fear of losing that person, again. She was the air he needed to breathe, the water he needed to drink.  

Some teenage boys approached Y/N on the dance floor once she was done with Johny. Logan frowned, not liking how close they were to her. Horny teenagers. 

“You look real’ nice teach,” said one of them. 

“Wanna dance?”

“No, first with me. I do enjoy your classes the most.” 

What a fucking liar, Logan thought. None of the boys were interested in her classes or teaching or her knowledge. 

Logan clenched his fists tightly. The more he listened to how those boys talked to her; how their eyes travelled her body, looking where only he should be the one looking, the more he wanted to scare the shit out of them. And when she took a step back, his legs moved forward, determined to step in and shoo them away. 

“Is there a problem?” his voice got darker, more intimidating. 

The boys feared the great Wolverine and so they quickly stepped back. “We were just…”

“I believe there are other girls more suitable for you,” he hugged, crossing his arms over his chest. “Go bother them.” 

With a snap of fingers, they were gone. They wouldn’t dare to talk back to the Wolverine. And, they feared he would make their lives miserable during history lessons. 

“Charming,” Y/N commented, chuckling. 

“You should have seen how they were looking at you,” he glared at her. “As if you were their prey.” 

“Good thing you came to rescue little ol’ me.”

He rubbed his face with a hand, sighing. “I need a drink. To hell with this no alcohol policy.” 

“Already so grumpy? And the prom barely started,” she gently stroked his arm, feeling the muscles under his suit.

“Well, it sucks.”

She took a step closer to him, tilting her head up to watch his face. “You know, this dress has secret pockets and I might have something inside of them that is forbidden this evening.” She gleamed with innocence. 

Logan inhaled her sweet scent again. He saw that teasing smile, could feel her body heat and he could breathe her in until the end of his time. “Are you suggesting that there’s some forbidden substance on you right now?” 

Her lips crooked into a wicked smile. “Come with me.” 

He didn’t have to be told twice. He walked by her side, farther away from the students and the whole prom, heading to the pond. The estate was vast. It was a perfect place to sneak around at night.

“For a teacher, you know how to break the rules,” he commented.

“Rules are meant to be broken, or am I wrong?” 

They stopped by the pond, next to one of the big thick trees standing there proudly. It was a perfect spot to be hidden but also see if any of the students were sneaking away from the party. 

They were surrounded by darkness. Only the moon gave them enough light to see each other’s faces. 

Y/N reached into one of the pockets and took out a black flask. She waved it in front of his eyes. “You are the best, princess,” he said. He was quick enough to take it out of her hand, open it and take a sniff. “Whisky?” he was surprised. 

“Please, repeat that I am the best, go on,” she goaded him. 

“You are the fucking best, princess,” he said and took a sip of the liquid. “Damn.” 

He handed her the flask and it was her turn to drink. “We are the two most irresponsible teachers. How can Charles trust us with the kids?” She put the flask to her lips and drank the liquid. It burned her throat and she turned up her nose. “It’s been a while since I had whisky.” 

“Why drink if you don’t like it?” 

“Who says I don’t like it?” 

“Your face,” he grabbed the flask from her again. 

“Rude, you know that?” she made an offended face. 

“Shut up,” he laughed at her and drank once more. “You’re a bad influence, you know that, eh? 

She raised a brow. “Are you complaining? I can take the flask and leave you here while I enjoy the drinking alone.” Y/N reached for the flask but he grabbed her wrist tightly. 

“Don’t you dare, princess,” he huffed. “You’d let old man suffer like this?” 

She scoffed. “What a fucking liar.”

“I’m over 150 years old,” he states, his hand not leaving her wrist. “So, yeah, I’m old.” 

“Uh-huh, ancient even,” she put a mocking smile on her face. “ The Smithsonian called, they want their fossil back.”

“Very funny.”

Her eyes drifted to his hand wrapped over her wrist. “You know, I don’t mind that you are holding me, but I want to drink.” 

Logan clears his throat and lets go of her. “Sorry,” he apologizes. 

Y/N drank the whisky. “So Canadian,” she commented, making a fake French accent. “Always apologising.”

“Are we on this again?” Y/N loved to tease him about this. The Canadian jokes were funny. Then again, he would tease her for her European heritage. 

“Oui, oui ma chérie,” she replied in the best French she could muster. 

“Fuck you with those Canadian jokes.”

“Ha, you wish.” 

Logan took the flask out of her hand to drink again. Y/N was quick enough to take it before he could put it to his lips. A new sound escaped Logan’s throat as he pressed himself closer to her to reach for the flask again. He was successful. Y/N wanted to steal it again but Logan put it up in the air, mocking her to take it from there. 

The annoyance on her face was evident and he laughed. “Come and get it, princess.” 

Y/N tried. To get it, she took a step closer to him and stretched her arms up as much as her body let her. The front of her body pressed against his hard, muscular chest. Logan could feel the shape of her perfect breasts. 

His eyes found her. That’s when he realised how close her face was to his. All he needed to do was to lean closer and he would be able to get to her lips - taste them for the first time. Once her breath hit his face, he went for it. 

Logan closed the gap between them and pressed his lips against her in their first soft kiss. He tested the waters, just to find out if she wanted this or not. When the kiss deepened, he let the flask drop to the grass and his arms wrapped tightly around her body. Their lips moved, exploring each other lips and mouths. He found a moment where she would grant him access and he pressed his tongue inside her mouth to explore it a bit further. 

Y/N’s arms were around his neck, pulling herself as close to him as possible. “Logan,” she moaned his name when his lips moved to her chin and then to her neck. He found a sensitive spot that got her weak in the knees and another moan got out of her throat. 

Logan stopped the kissing to look into her face. “Fuck, princess, I dreamt about this for some time now.” 

“So why are you stopping now?” she whispered. 

“I don’t think I will be able to stop,” he admitted, brushing her lower lip with his thumb. 

Y/N took it between her lips and sucked on it. “Maybe I don’t want you to stop,” she said after she let it out with a pop.

His lips were back on her in a messier kiss. It was all tongue and teeth, biting and pulling. Her hands stroked his chest over the fancy clothes he wore, wanting to feel as much of him as possible. Logan’s hands gripped her ass tightly, enjoying how it felt on his big palms. “I want you, baby girl.” 

“I want you too, Logan,” she moaned into his mouth. 

He pressed her harshly against the nearest tree they stood by, pushing his body to her. He was painfully hard and there was no way he’d be able to stop now. So when her hand found his bulge, he was a goner. 

“Fuck,” she gasped. 

His hand found her exposed thigh and it travelled up until he made her wrap the leg around his waist. Then he pressed the bulge against her clothed pussy. And that was rewarded by another sweet moan. 

All of a sudden, he stopped and looked into her face. She was breathing heavily, a hint of confusion evident on her face. Her eyes asked why he stopped. Her hands grabbed tightly onto his jacket. “Not here,” Logan said after he caught his breath. He wanted to slap himself for saying that. 

“Why not?” she sighed, impatient. 

“‘Cuz a princess like you should be treated like one,” he explained. “Plus, tonight you look like a fucking princess.” He wanted the best for her. “And maybe in time, I’d fuck the soul out of you somewhere in the woods.” 

A slow smile pulled on her lips. “Ah, so you think about this not being a one-time thing?” 

He carefully let her exposed leg go. He then put a finger under her chin. “Fuck, no. You can’t deny there’s somethin’ between us.” 

Y/N’s arms were back around his neck, breathing in his scent. He still hadn’t smoked those cigars because there was no trace of the smell on him. Her fingers scrapped his nape and it made him roll his eyes in pleasure. “The teasing, the banter, how we make fun of each other… yeah, there definitely is.” 

He hummed. “Plus, everyone can see it, as they kept reminding me the last few days.” 

That made her laugh. “Yeah, I had my talk with Ororo.”

Y/N pushed her back from the three and she yelped in pain. Some of the wood scratched her back. “Fuck,” she cursed. 

“And that is another reason why we should take this somewhere else,” he said as his hand brushed her hair off the back and swiped off some of the bits of wood and dirt. He could smell a bit of blood. 

Before they headed back to the dance, Logan picked the flask from the ground. There was some alcohol left. He handed it to her and she took a sip. Afterwards, he drank the rest of it. They walked side by side, his big hand brushing against her smaller one. Here and there, they would give one another fleeting stares.

“I’m gonna take you for a ride tomorrow,” he said out of nowhere and that got her attention. “What do you say?” 

“Oh, like a date?” she nudged his shoulder. “I didn’t know you do that. I always thought that you were above these things. You know, toxic masculinity and shit.” 

“Now you hurt my feelings, princess.” 

“I’m just messing with you, Lo’. But I’d be lying if I said I’m not surprised. I really didn’t picture you as the one who would ask a girl on a date. It’s nice.”

“So, is that a yes?” 

Quickly, she got on her tiptoes, pulled on his hand to lean a bit to her and she kissed him on the bearded cheek. “Yes.” 

When they came back to the prom, they kept some of the distance between them. Kitty was the first to approach them. “Hey, I think the Professor said no alcohol,” she pointed at the flask that Y/N was holding in her left hand. 

“Cough syrup,” she said innocently. 

Logan had to hold back his laugh. Kitty, on the other hand, shook her head in disapproval. She watched as her friend put the flask into a pocket of her dress. “Sneaky.” 

“I told her she’s a bad influence,” Logan commented. That earned him a slap on the shoulder. 

Someone’s gentle fingers brushed against her back. “What happened to you?” Ororo’s voice came from behind her. She found the tiny scratches on her back. When she moved her hair to the side, there were more of them. 

“Oh,” Y/N waved a hand. “Just slippery grass and I bumped into a tree.” 

Kitty made a face and Ororo glared at her too, knowing she was lying to them. Then their eyes were on Logan. “She’s fucking clumsy.” 

“Right,” Ororo commented. 

“If you’ll excuse me, I am going to the bathroom,” she said. Nothing better came to her mind to get away from that situation. And with her head high, she left her friends and Logan standing there. 

Y/N ended up in one of the closest bathrooms where she tried to take a peek at her back, to see how bad it was. She was able to see some scratches on the left side of her shoulder, but it was not that bad. Yes, there were scratches and some blood, but nothing horrible. All she needed was to clean it off with a wet cloth. 

Her sigh reverberated through the room. It all kept coming back to her - the way his lips felt, how he kissed her and touched her. How he pressed her against the tree, ready to have his way with her. Fuck, he was packing. She thought they would fuck there, right against the tree, but he didn’t want to. And it all brought a smile to her face. 

Y/N had been pining for him for some time now. In her eyes, Logan was the exact opposite of a man that she would date in the past. He was the epitome of a man. She couldn’t count how many times her panties dropped when she talked to him, or when he did something. And those damn claws. Fuck! 

After washing her hands, she left the bathroom and headed back to the prom. Maybe she could ask him to dance with her? Would he?

That didn’t happen because Logan was standing at the stairs, waiting. 

“Why are you not outside?” she asked. 

He reached a hand to her. She eyed him, curious why he did that, but gave him her hand. “Just come,” was all he said. 

Logan took her upstairs, all the way back to her room. He was inside maybe twice, never paying her room any special attention until now. 

She had a guitar by the table, a queen-sized bed with a night table and a lamp. Her walls were decorated with shelves and books. It was a cosy room, better than his.  Y/N opened her mouth to question him. Logan made her sit on the bed. “You have a disinfection?” 

She peaked at him through her dark lashes. “Bathroom.” 

Logan went to the other door in the room where found a shower, toilet and a sink with cabinets and a mirror. He went to the cabinet under the sink where he found a box marked a first aid kit. 

He sat behind her on the bed, brushing her hair away from her shoulders so he could have a peek at her exposed back. Without words, he cleaned the tiny scratches from the tree. “Shit, there’s some wood inside this one,” he cursed once he found one wound that needed more treatment. 

He found tweezers that helped him get out the piece of wood. She didn’t even flinch. Once he was done, he put the first aid kit back in the bathroom. 

Y/N stood up and waited for his return. “How will I repay you, my knight in shining armour?” 

His actions spoke louder than words. He grabbed her by the neck and pulled her close to his body, his lips back on her as they were over half an hour ago. Her hands removed his black jacket and let it fall on the floor.

“You look so hot in a suit,” she mumbled between the kisses. “I could eat you up.” 

He chuckled. “I think that is my line, princess. Now, tell me, how much do you like that dress?” 

Y/N stopped everything she was doing and took a step back. “Oh no no, do not touch the dress with your claws. It was fucking expensive and I like it.” 

That playful grin on his face would be her death. He sat down on her bed and took off the tie. “Take it off for me, now, or,” he looked down at his fist as his three adamantium claws came out of his skin. “Or there will be no dress left.” 

Her fingers found the tiny zipper on her side. Y/N’s eyes never left his dark eyes, boring into them as she teasingly took off the dress as he commanded her. His claws were gone once he stood in front of him only in her red thong.

“Fuck, princess, look at you.” He ogled her from head to toe, his eyes lingering longer on her perky breasts. Her body had beautiful curves that he dreamt about for a long time. 

Y/N was quick to get to him and sat on his lap, pressing her pussy against his hard bulge. Her hands grabbed the middle of his black button-up. He couldn’t let a sound out, she ripped the buttons, exposing his hard-toned chest. 

“How is that fair?” he snarled. 

“And how is it fair that I am almost naked here while you sit here, all comfy and clothed?” she cocked her eyebrow. She took the piece of clothing off him completely, admiring everything and anything on him - those toned arms and shoulders, that chest, and fuck, even though he was a hairy man, she was into it. Her fingers dug into his skin, leaving deep red marks on his chest. 

His lips found her neck in delicate kisses that he pressed to her skin, trailing down to her collarbones until he found her chest and latched onto her nipples hungrily. “These tits were made for me.” He bit onto one, making her yelp. 

Y/N’s hands went between their bodies, finding his belt and zipper, trying to get inside of them hurriedly. “Impatient?” he asked. 

“Yes.” 

She heard his dark chuckle that then turned into a moan once her hand got inside his trousers and grabbed his length. “Princess, don’t be a tease.” 

With his help, the rest of his clothes were gone. Logan lay down on her bed, watching her crawl on top of him. Her breasts were right at his face. One piece of clothing was separating her sweet cunt and his cock and that was the damn thong. One of his claws got out of his hand and precisely tore the piece of fabric without hurting her. He took the damaged panties away and threw them on the ground. 

“Now, are you gonna stare at me or are you gonna ride me with that sweet pussy of yours?” His hands then rested on her thighs, lazily travelling up to her sides and then to her gorgeous breasts, squeezing them. His fingers tweaked her hard nipples, making her moan for him. 

“Come on, princess, be a good girl and ride me.” 

Y/N grabbed his cock and aligned it with her entrance, carefully sinking onto it. Her mouth was agape as she kept her eyes locked onto his one. “Fuck, so thick.” 

First, the pace was slow. She tried to get used to his girth. After a few thrusts, she sped up. Logan’s hands grabbed her and they entwined their fingers. “Shit, sweetheart, you squeeze me so well. Your pussy is amazing.” 

“Logan,” she said his name hoarsely. 

He quickly lost his patience and switched them. Y/N landed on her bed with a huff and he entered her before she realised what happened. The room filled with skin-on-skin slapping sounds. He fucked her rough and fast. Y/N’s nails dung into the skin on his back. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t hurt him.

His left hand went between their bodies until he found her clit and toyed with it. “Fuck, Y/N. I’m going to cum.”

“Yes,” she moaned. “I’m s-so close. Fuck.”

“Come on, cum for me, princess. I wanna feel you.” He put her right leg over his shoulder and got deeper than before. “I can feel you’re close. Come on, cum for me.” 

It took a few more thrusts and some strokes on her clit when she climaxed. The way her cunt squeezed his cock brought him to his peak fast and he spilled inside her, coating her walls white. “Ah!”

“Fuck, fuck,” he cursed as his thrusts got sloppier, slower. He stopped once her pussy stopped spasming and his release ended. 

Their breaths were heavy. Her chest was heaving and it was a beautiful sight to watch her breasts move in front of his eyes. He latched onto one of the nipples, sucking on it. “Fucking beautiful.” 

Then their lips connected in a heated kiss, tongues battling. She giggled when he looked back at her. “Damn,” she whispered. “That was hot. Maybe…”

“Maybe what?” Logan was curious. He rolled next to her side. 

She snuggled closer to him, resting her head on his chest, breathing in his scent. “How about,” she started slowly. “Tomorrow, after you take me for a ride on your bike, I ride you on your bike?” 

He laughed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You will be the death of me, princess.” 

[annievrse]

Break Through, Break Down / Act III

Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader  Summary: When your captain, Luffy, tells you to run from Bartholomew Kuma on the Sabaody Archipelago instead of fighting, you end up on a submarine. Takes place post-time skip. W/C: 20k C/W: Fic structure: Sabaody Archipelago → Zou spoilers, canon timeline but majority canon-divergent events, she/her pronouns, no use of y/n. Content: anxiety, descriptions of injuries, blood, mentions of torture and violence, mentions of past trauma (Law), Doflamingo.

Labyrinth Series Masterlist

— Scene 1 —

You need to get to Sabaody. 

You don’t know how because Law sure as hell isn’t going back to Paradise, not when everything is going to plan. But it must be done; you must be at Sabaody Archipelago in a month. Everything you’ve done to get stronger has been to meet your family back on Sabaody. 

You feel like you’ve betrayed the Straw Hats by going to the New World before them. That was the plan after all, but you got so caught up with the Heart Pirates and helping Law that the thought of meeting Luffy at Sabaody had slipped your mind. You scolded yourself every day for it. 

Law achieved Warlord status, and as you watch him say farewell to Bepo, Penguin, Shachi, and the rest of the crew, you mull over how much you’ve fucked up the original plan. 

It’s been a year and a half since Law presented the ninety-eight pirate hearts he collected on Hachinosu and the two single hearts, one from Seamus Wells and the other from the noble on the passenger ship before the Navy Headquarters. He wore his usual smirk and callous facade while the rest of you stood on the deck of the Polar Tang with guns pointed at you from every angle. From what you remember, the Marines looked mortified, some sick, and others confused—you were used to it at that point, wearing a bored expression while Law went inside the complex to talk with someone higher up. Your anxiety that day spread like wildfire through your body, but you knew he’d get what he wanted. 

Now, you stand before the Polar Tang on an island overrun with snow and ice on one side and fire and lava on the other. You wrap your arms around yourself, the thick jacket you wear doing nothing against the frigid wind of Punk Hazard. Law stands beside you with his jacket zipped up to his chin, his katana resting on his shoulder. 

“Be careful!” Bepo yells, his paws covering his mouth to project his voice. 

“We’ll be fine,” Law calls. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

Penguin laughs before coughing, the winter air tightening his chest. “When are we ever stupid?” 

“Bye!” Ikkaku yells, waving at you. 

You smile and wave back. “Be safe!”

You have grown closer to Ikkaku during your time on the Polar Tang. She no longer regards you with disdain and is grateful for another woman on the sub. It’s refreshing to have a female friendship again—and the thought makes the taste of Sabaody bitter in your mouth. 

Law clicks his tongue and turns, making his way toward the giant laboratory in the mountains. You stand there, watching the Heart Pirates shut the door and descend back into the sea, embarking on their journey to Zou. You sigh deeply and pull the beanie further over your ears. 

“C’mon!” 

You turn, your gaze remaining on when the submarine submerged. Though they aren’t going in the direction you need to go, and somewhere deep in your soul, you wish you could persuade them to go back over Reverse Mountain to Sabaody. 

Law calls your name, and you look toward him. His hand is outreached, and you rush over to him as quickly as possible in this weather and take it. You shake your head to rid your mind of the impossible. 

“This guy knows we’re coming, right?” 

He clears his throat. “He knows I’m coming.” 

“So we’re not going to get attacked?” 

“Shouldn’t.” 

You roll your lips between your teeth and huddle closer to Law. Glancing up at him, the red tint to his cheeks is mainly from the icy wind, but you know it’s also because you’re holding his hand. You refrain from giggling, knowing he’d only scold you for such trivial things, but he knows you too well.

“You better not be laughing at me.” 

You snort. “Never, my love.” 

Law rolls his eyes and says nothing, though he squeezes your gloved hand tighter. 

“While we’re here, I need you to do something for me.” 

You nod with owlish eyes. “Of course.” 

“There’s no doubt in my mind that Caesar Clown has this place on lockdown, with cameras and shit… So we need to do this here,” He pauses, looking toward the mountain. “I need you to keep my heart safe.” 

Furrowing your eyebrows, you stop, the snow squeaking under your feet. “Why?”

Law senses your worried tone and faces you. “I’m going to give my ‘heart’ to them to prove my loyalty.” 

“Your ‘heart’?” 

“I have an extra heart from Hachinosu,” Law says. “You’re going to keep mine safe while I hand over this one.” 

You purse your lips, your own heart racing. “Okay. Right now?” 

“Right now,” He urges, lifting his hand to his chest. “I should’ve done it on the sub, but I got sidetracked…” 

You feel your cheeks warm at the connotation. “Yeah, well…” 

Law uses Scalpel, and a blue cube slides from his chest. “Keep it safe for me, sweetheart.” 

You open the flap of the bag you carry on your back and wrap it in a scarf crafted with Sew. “I have been for two years, haven’t I?” 

He snorts and digs around inside his coat for the pirate’s heart. Law inhales sharply before inserting it into the empty slot, his face scrunching in agony. You place your hand on his. 

“Careful,” You whisper, your gaze running over his face as his expression evens out. 

“I’m good.”

You hum, swinging the backpack over your shoulder. The wind whistles through the barren land, and the laboratory looks further away than it did a second ago. “If you could Shamble us up there right now, I’d be eternally grateful.” 

Law gives a sidelong glance but flicks his fingers up anyway. “You’re annoying.” 

“I love you,” You tease, leaning up and kissing his freezing cheek. 

His gaze softens, and then you’re stumbling. 

Before you can complain to him, Law is at the giant door, knocking. You don’t think anyone will answer until it slides open and a cloud of gas emerges. 

“Ceasar.”

“Trafalgar Law,” The gas speaks before materialising into a figure. A ten-foot man with horns in a yellow stripy jumpsuit and a purple cape towers over you, and you let out a squeak of surprise. “Who’s this?”

“My assistant.” 

Caesar huffs and looks you up and down. “Ugh, fine! Come with me. We have business to discuss before I let you roam around here… unsupervised.” 

You glance at Law, who looks straight ahead and follows the gas man inside. There’s a bad feeling swirling in your stomach, but you pay it no mind. 

— Scene 2 —

The inside of the laboratory is unsettling, almost as much as the looming presence of Caesar as he watches over you. Law is elsewhere, performing his part of the contract, healing Caesar’s underlings while you stay in this room. You make no sudden movements and keep your breathing steady. 

“So, what do you do out here? On Punk Hazard?” 

Caesar narrows his eyes. “Experiments.” 

You nod, knowing you weren’t getting more of an answer than that. “Cool.” 

The scientist makes no sound, and you chew on your bottom lip. 

“I could’ve sworn I’ve seen your face in the newspaper. Who are you again?”

You glance at Caesar, surprised he asked you a question but nervous about the former statement. “Law’s assistant.” 

“Huh,” Caesar mused. “Maybe I’m thinking of the wrong person…” 

Your stomach flips, and before you comprehend the situation, Caesar has you hanging in the air by your throat. 

“A Straw Hat,” He growls, his gas tightening around your neck. “Trafalgar Law brought a pirate into my laboratory.” 

You struggle to breathe and claw at the invisible hand. “No, it’s not like that, please.” 

“Law and I signed a contract,” Caesar says. “I don’t remember seeing your name in there.” 

“I’m just here to learn,” You squeeze your eyes closed and squeak out the syllables. 

“Learn about what?”

“Caesar.” 

The scientist freezes, his gas turning icy against your skin. “Law…”

“Put her down. I won’t ask again.” 

You feel your feet hit the floor, and then you crumble. You inhale sharply, the oxygen burning your lungs as you gulp it down hungrily. Coughing, you rub at your chest. “Asshole.” 

“Why did you bring a pirate here?” 

Law huffs harshly, glancing at you to see if you’re okay. When you are, he cocks his head at Caesar. “She’s my assistant. If you have a problem with that, I’ll happily turn your underlings back as they were.” 

Caesar giggles nervously. “No problems. None at all. Have you finished with them?” 

“Yes.” 

And then Caesar flies from the room. Law rushes over to you and helps you stand, cursing under his breath.

“I shouldn’t have left him alone with you.” 

You smile weakly, resting your palm on his cheek. “I’m fine.” 

“You’re not,” He sits you down on the couch. “Fuck.” 

He inspects your neck; his fingers light on your skin as he traces the blooming bruises, leaving goosebumps in his wake. 

“What do we do now?” You ask, deflecting his attention. Law’s gaze remains on your neck.

“We lay low, try not to draw attention to ourselves while we’re here. I need to gain their trust.” 

— Scene 3 —

It's been a month since you and Law arrived at Punk Hazard, and it’s been nothing short of boring. But Sabaody never left your mind. The date of the meeting came and went, and you felt guilt deep in your stomach, the feeling making you sick. There’s nothing you could have said or done, though you know Law wanted you to be there—he’d apologised every day, but it just wasn’t possible. 

Most days are the same: wake up, eat a meal of potato, rice, and curry, walk around the facility, eat another serving of potato, rice, and curry, and go to sleep. It’s mundane, but Law ensures there is a means to the end—find the SAD production room. It’s why you’re required to wander around the facility all day to inspect the thousands of rooms and decipher which is the one to destroy. 

You’ve had no luck so far; there are men in yellow suits in every direction who forbid you from going certain ways, but you aren’t stupid— you know the hallways lead to where you need to go. You just don’t know how to go about it. Sure, you could use Seam, and your mind and ability have strengthened substantially since Hachinosu. Still, there’s an unknown number of people in the facility, and anything above 300 souls would send you comatose. The limitation frustrates you. 

Caesar and his underling, Monet, project clear disdain toward you, but it’s nothing you can’t handle. The winged woman is eerie, always watching you, like she knows you’re being untruthful about your intentions. There are moments when you’re walking the corridors, and there are screams, child-like wails of terror and anguish that have your hair standing on end. You choose not to ask Caesar or Monet about it; that would be foolish. Law says he’s heard it too but doesn’t know where it’s coming from—the cries echo like they’re everywhere, with no one place to pinpoint them to. It’s unsettling. 

“Located.” 

Law whispers it as he passes by you breezily. You gulp and suppress your relieved smile; the word brings you hope. 

You know Caesar’s hazmat crew hovers over you, the surveillance snails monitoring your every movement, but you neglect to care when you’ve just heard that you’ll soon be leaving. You don’t dare glance back at Law as he walks down the hallway you just came from and clench your fists tight to avoid doing so. 

A faraway scream draws you from your daze, and when it continues, you look back at Law. He’s at the end of the hall, stopped with his head tilted. You take a step, but a loud, echoing thump startles you. 

“Navy’s here,” Law calls, and then he takes off down the hall toward Building A. You sigh, perplexed as to how he could know that. “C’mon.” 

Your heart races as you do, the winter boots you wear barely gripping the slick vinyl floors. As you catch up to Law, you notice he’s taken on a leisurely stroll. 

“How do you know the Navy’s here?” You raise an eyebrow. Law huffs a laugh and adjusts his katana on his shoulder. 

“I heard chaos outside; looked in the surveillance room.” 

Your jaw drops. “How’d you get in there?” 

Law doesn’t respond since he knows you know the answer anyway. You give him a sidelong glance. 

“I’ve been trying to get in there for weeks…” You mumble, pouting. “And all I had to do was ask you.” 

Law shrugs and takes the left hallway at the fork. 

“Why are the Navy here anyway?” 

“I don’t know,” Law says, voice low. “But I don’t like it.” 

The knock is incessant, and it gets louder with each passing second. 

When you get to the door, Law huffs with irritation. He presses a red button, and the thick sheet of metal slides open a few feet. 

“Trafalgar Law.” 

You decide to hang back, not wanting to alert the Marines of your presence… besides, Law is a Warlord, and you’re not. 

You recognise the Navy Vice Admiral when he speaks, his deep timbre annoyed. “Trafalgar Law.”

Law scoffs lightly. “What brings you to my vacation home?” 

You close your eyes at his quip, his body leaning carelessly against the wall. The wind whistles harshly, and the icy air nips at your ears. It’s the only sound for a minute, the Navy seemingly shocked at Law’s presence. 

“Trafalgar! We understand you’re a Warlord, but we need to get past. Step aside!” The voice is familiar, and you comb through your memories to figure out who it belongs to. You faintly recall a woman with a sword, someone who Zoro complained about. “We already know you’re not the only one on this island.” 

You bite your tongue. There’s no way she could know you’re here. Law narrows his eyes. 

“What are you talking about?” 

Tashigi, you remember. That’s her name. When she doesn’t answer, you dare a peek at her. She holds a Baby Transponder Snail in her hand, the gastropod warbling as it gains a signal. 

“Hello?—”

Your heart stops.

“My name is Monkey D. Luffy!”

You can’t move, the icy wind blowing through the crack in the door almost tipping you over. There’s no way. You touch Law’s back, begging to look at the snail closer. 

But you physically deflate when the call goes on and realise it’s a recording. 

“He said cold and named the island,” Tashigi’s voice cuts off your daze. “Given those facts, it's almost undeniable that the signal was sent from here.” 

Law remains silent. 

“And you’ve met Straw Hat before, haven’t you?” Smoker asks, folding his arms over his chest. “You helped him escape from Marineford.” 

You gulp and back away. If they knew you were here…

“Alright then, what now?” Law sighs. “I know you Marines are good at faking those distress signals.” 

Smoker raises an eyebrow, his cigar bobbing between his lips. “If you’re insinuating that this is a trap we set, you’re wrong.”

“Is that so?” Law scoffs. “Well, I haven’t got any information for you.” 

“You and I both know that’s bullshit,” Smoker growls. “Now, let us inside that lab.” 

“It’s my vacation home, that’s all. Beat it,” Law says, his tone growing agitated. “The Navy abandoned this place, so why does it matter if I’m here? I see nobody else around.” 

You’re on the verge of sprinting. The mention of Luffy and hearing his voice through the Snail has made you feel sick. You betrayed them, and now they’re here? You don’t think you can face them.

“And if Straw Hat does come knocking, I’ll behead him for you. Now, get lost.” 

You almost stumble and glare at the back of Law’s head—empty threats. 

Smoker and Tashigi say nothing, but they aren’t leaving. You raise your hand, ready to send their souls to Seam, when there’s a rumble behind you. 

“Wha—” A collection of footsteps clamber down the stairs, and you furrow your brows, your heart clenching with fear. What is that?

Law looks at you, his eyes widening as he spots something you can’t. You slowly turn, ignoring the chatter of confusion outside, and your jaw opens in both horror and shock. 

There are children—tens of them, running toward you, all dressed in the same white gown. But what puzzles you more is that some of them are 4 times your height. 

“What the…” Law muses, his voice trailing off. Your chest heaves like your lungs are trying to increase the oxygen to your brain because… what are you looking at?

The voices that scream behind them cause a chill down your spine. “We gotta get outta here!” 

“Look! There’s a door!” 

It can’t be. You blink,  tears pooling in your eyes. 

Law’s brows tug together as he tries to figure out what the hell is going on. 

Before your eyes, a large raccoon dog throws itself past you, kicking the door wider. You recognise the hat instantly and feel your knees buckle. More people rush past, and you’re disoriented by the chaos around you. 

“Woah! It’s freezing out here…” 

“Nami…” You whisper with confusion. “Nami!” 

You turn around to face the door, your hands clasped together on your chest. You hope you’re not mistaken.

Your name falls from her lips, and it's like the world is rewarding you for sticking it out and for surviving this long. She gasps, her familiar red hair a blur as she wraps her arms around you. 

“Nami,” You cry, pulling her tighter against you. 

“We thought—”

“I know,” Pulling your face back to explain yourself, Nami brushes stray hairs away from your eyes. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t get to Sabaody. I was already here, and—”

“Don’t apologise,” Nami exclaims, tears sliding down her cheeks. “I’m so happy to see you.” 

You frown, searching her eyes for any hint of a lie—you’re sure they’re upset and angry with you for not coming back when everyone else made the effort. But she’s genuine; she’s not mad. 

Law stands awkwardly in the doorway, staring down Smoker as he grapples with the shock of seeing so many children burst from the laboratory. And as confused and irritated Law is at Caesar for keeping these kids hostage, he can’t think about that when the Navy stands before him, ready to attack. Especially when you’re here, behind him, reuniting with your crew. 

“Hey, hey, hey, Franky the Tank!” 

A stunned laugh forces its way out of your chest, and you turn. Franky is coming toward you in a form you haven’t seen, with two children and Sanji behind him. They don’t seem to notice you and Nami yet, only the hoard of kids they saved. 

“It’s the Straw Hats…” You hear Tashigi call outside. Fear clings to you, and you shove Nami toward Franky and Sanji. 

“Go!” You yell. Sanji’s ears seem to perk up at the sound of your voice, and when he mumbles your name, he’s jumping off Franky and running. 

Law grunts but is focused on the Marines. Sanji yells your name again, a broad grin on his mouth. 

“My sweet!” He brings you into a hug. “I thought I would never see you again, my love. Are you okay?” 

You leer and nod, your cheeks hurting when Chopper and Franky realise it’s you, too. 

“I’m so sorry,” You repeat, taking advantage of the Navy’s shock to talk to your friends for a bit longer.

“Luffy told us everything,” Sanji reassures. “We’re not mad at you. We could never be.” 

You purse your lips in an attempt to stop crying. 

“A severed head?” A yell echoes through the wind, and you look at Franky, who holds one. 

You’re at a loss for words, and you don’t think your heart can take this right now. Rationality takes over your emotions, and panic arises inside you. “You have to go! The Navy’s here!”

“The Navy?” Nami asks. The children are circled around Franky, who tries his best to distract them from the impending danger around them, face wet with tears from seeing you. 

“I’ll catch up,” You say, sniffling. “Go!” 

Chopper squeaks as he cries. “I missed you.” 

Nami, after wiping her cheeks, grabs Chopper and Sanji’s wrists. “She’s right. We should go.” 

You inhale sharply, watching as your friends try and quickly maneuver the kids down the hallway you pointed to. 

“Hey, wait,” Nami squints in Law's direction. “We know him.”

Chopper gasps. “Yeah, we saw him in Sabaody. What’s his name again?” 

Then Nami’s expression turns into one of betrayal. “You didn’t kidnap these kids, did you?” 

You shake your head, upset she’d even think of Law like that. But, then again, the only person who knows him is you. 

“No!” You plead. “This is the first we’ve seen of them.” 

Sanji makes a surprised sound that turns into a growl. “What’s he doing here?”

Everyone’s attention turns to the Vice Admiral, who has moved back onto the snow. 

“Smoker!” Sanji points at him. “And Tashigi! Looking good…”

Law rolls his eyes. “Are you gonna leave before they attack, or not?” 

“We should go,” Chopper whines, tugging Nami’s arm. You look between your crew and the Navy, the tension in the air growing tenfold. 

“Quick!” Sanji shouts. “We can’t get out this way. Go down that hallway!” 

The children start screaming while they run, following the direction Sanji pointed. Nami gives you one last smile before trailing after them, and soon, it’s just you and Law. 

Law takes the stairs down the ice, and the Navy backs up as he does so. You follow close behind. 

Your name falls from Smoker’s lips as a snarl. It seems he’s just noticed you. “You’ve caused us a lotta trouble…” 

Law guards your body with his own. 

“So there are others here!” Tashigi exclaims. 

Law shrugs. “Guess so. It’s a shock for me, too.” 

Without replying, Tashigi draws her sword. “Marines! Track down the Straw Hats!” 

Behind her, there’s a collective yell, the men inching closer. You peek around Law’s bicep, watching them. 

“Wait,” Smoker says sternly. “Back down.” 

But, before you or the Navy can comprehend the situation, Law sticks out his hand. “Room.” 

You gape as a phantom wind pushes the Navy back, the blue dome hardly visible through the thick cloud. “Law…”

He doesn’t hear you. “And Takt.” 

Ice cracks beyond the cloud, and you step beside him. “So, we’re doing this?” 

Law sighs. “They won’t leave…” 

Smoker and Tashigi look behind them, both frozen in place. There’s a large dark silhouette looming over the Marines. You tilt your head in wonder when you realise it’s their battleship. 

“Shit,” You murmur, glancing up at Law to see his eyes closed. “Careful…”

Law swallows, acknowledging your warning. 

“I lied to you for your own good,” He calls to Smoker. “You should’ve listened. And now that you’ve seen the truth… I can’t let you leave.” 

The chatter of the Marines is almost deafening, and you wince. 

“Stay behind me,” Smoker growls to his subordinates. He draws the staff from his back and points it at Law. You narrow your eyes. How dare he wield that at him. 

Beside you, Law reaches for his katana, pulling it from the scabbard. He smirks, his katana blade reflecting the glare of the snow. 

It could be so easy for you to just send Smoker’s soul to Seam, to watch his body go limp, to defeat him. But, since he has a Logia-type Devil Fruit, it’s dangerous for you to do so. 

“Don’t get too close to him,” Law mumbles. “He touches you with that stick of his, and it’s over.” 

“I know,” You sigh, matching Tashigi’s stance. “You, too.” 

The battleship is suspended in the air above you, the hull of the ship to the sky. The ground shakes under your feet. Law changes his position, lowering his arm. 

The Marines behind Smoker and Tashigi yell out, but you pay them no mind. 

“That was the Samurai,” Law mutters. You furrow your eyebrows and look up at him. 

“Who?” 

“The severed head.” 

“Oh,” You frown, regretting not paying closer attention. 

Law’s free hand moves up again; this time, the debris from the battleship flies around, narrowly missing the Marines. 

“Give the ship back,” Smoker deadpans. 

Law smirks. “Eh, fine. But let me make one adjustment.” 

Your lips form a straight line. “Stop playing with them.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” And then he swings his katana upwards, the blade cutting the air. There’s a collective gasp, and then the ship splits into two, and the sound of wood cracking is deafening. 

The two halves of the ship lower slowly, Law moving his finger down slightly to prompt the movement. He stares straight ahead, watching the Marines panic. You watch in awe as a giant iceberg levitates behind it, and Law quickly slashes his sword multiple times to cut the ice. 

The chunks, plus the ship halves and the debris, start falling into the ground, sending the area into more chaos, the screams and shouts echoing far past the laboratory. 

The inside of Room is a mess, like a snow globe just shaken. 

“Let’s go, Admiral!” A voice bounces off the ice.

Law scoffs. “I don’t think so…”

You do nothing but admire the control Law has over the tonnes of wood and ice as they join together like magnets. It reminds you of a game you used to play as a child. 

“Hey! You work for the government too, Bud!” 

“Wait until we tell HQ that you attacked us!”

Law’s tongue pokes the inside of his cheek, a wry laugh leaving his throat. He flips the katana in his hand, pointing the blade to the ground. “Scan.” 

He drags the blade perpendicular to the ground before propping it back up on his shoulder and closing his outstretched fist. You know the play; he’s done it hundreds of times before. 

A collective thud sounds behind you, and you don’t have to turn to know it’s the Marines’ Baby Transponder Snails. 

There’s a crazed look in Law’s eye that excites you. 

“Warlord or not, you’ve gone too far,” Smoker says, his body turning to smoke around him. And then he takes off, speeding toward Law. Your gasp is smothered by the innate response to protect Law, your body throwing itself before him. 

Law says nothing, knowing you hate when he intervenes. 

“Needles.” 

A large one materialises in your hand, and before Smoker reaches you, you swing it. Law jumps back, his katana out. He presses his back to yours, slashing the smoke that swirls around him. You work in tandem, cutting and slicing the air. You see Smoker’s top half in the sky, speaking to the Marines. It’s your cue to elbow Law. 

He faces them and swings the katana, cutting all of the Marines in half. They all scream, but you don’t take your eyes off of Smoker. He lands in front of you.

“Trafalgar Law!” Tashigi yells, sprinting at him. 

Smoker stands to his full height before you, noticing Tashigi. “Stop! You can’t win!”

She doesn’t let up, positioning her sword beside her head. Tashigi jumps, her blade over her head, and she comes down on Law. 

You take the opportunity to send the Marine’s souls to Seam, and the influx makes you lightheaded. They all slump, the halves of their bodies laying limply on the ice, and you’re grateful for the silence. 

Swords clang, and you turn to see two halves of Tashigi’s sword fly through the air. They have yet to notice their Marines are unresponsive. 

Smoker falters when he sees Tashigi’s torso slip off her hips, her legs remaining stuck in the ice. 

The wind is the only sound; it blows harshly against your face and sneaks its way through your thick coat, chilling you to the bone. You see Law standing there through blurred vision, your eyes watering at the sting of the cold. 

“Why won’t you finish me? Trafalgar!” 

Law clicks his tongue. “Weaklings like you don’t get to decide where you die.” 

The needle in your hand drops to the ground, and then Smoker staggers over to Tashigi, his voice tight and cautious. With the Marines quiet, there’s nothing to be worried about. 

Law stalks toward you, his hat-shrouded gaze darkening when he sees you shivering. Immediately, the wind stops. You inhale as he stands before you. 

“You could’ve done that before,” You say, noticing the wind blowing harder outside the small bubble around you. 

Law shrugs. “We need to get inside and figure out what the hell is going on.” 

You nod, swallowing thickly. “How are they here?” 

“I don't know,” Law whispers, knowing you’re talking about the children. “But I’m gonna kick Caesar’s ass.” 

“Law!” 

The Warlord sighs with something akin to defeat and turns. “What?” 

A cloud of smoke is heading straight for you, but Law quickly slashes it with his katana. 

“You may be a Warlord, but you’re still just a pirate,” Smoker grunts as he dodges Law’s attack. “Just like her.” 

Another needle forms in your grasp, and you jump to the side to avoid Smoker’s staff, the end dangerously close to your shoulder. “Shit.” 

The smoke cloud rises above you. Law is quick to swipe, but Smoker’s quicker. The katana clangs against the metal staff with a sharp zing; Law focuses on keeping the end of the staff away from you. 

Smoker’s hand wielding the staff stays the same, and you don’t realise the rest of his body turning to smoke. He rounds Law, and his other hand tightens around Law’s neck. 

You gasp, stabbing your needle into the space where Smoker’s body should be. 

The Admiral materialises and uses his strength to slam Law’s head into the ice. Law grunts and you aren’t quick enough to react to how fast Smoker raises his staff and slams it into Law’s face.

The impact is loud, but where you expect blood and flesh, there’s only green wood. 

“Sea-prism stone, huh?” 

You spin, seeing Law with his katana ready. Smoker meets him halfway, the metal connecting again. Instead of staying there, the katana keeps going, the momentum too fast to slow, and the mountain of icebergs and battleship Law created before slices in half. 

The Marines below are still in Seam, and you freeze at the realisation—they’re going to get crushed. 

You’re torn but ultimately choose to return their souls to their bodies. The cacophony of noise starts again, and the men flee with terror, confused about where they are. 

They run out of Room, having figured out how to stay safe from Law. A lone Marine runs for Tashigi and picks her up, taking her with him. 

Behind you, Law and Smoker keep fighting. Grunts and snarls combine with the ringing of metal on metal to create a symphony of a duel. 

You watch the Marines leave, doing nothing to stop them—your objective now is to find out why there were children inside the laboratory and how you didn’t know after being here for a month. Where was Caesar hiding them? And for what reason? It sickens you. 

Debris flies in Room; Law’s ability is perfectly altered, so nothing hits you. A harsh call of your name causes you to spin. 

Law stands behind a jagged piece of rock, Smoker’s body leaning over it—the wild look in his eye returning. 

“Scalpel.” 

You run, feet slipping in the snow. With your hands outstretched, threads weave quickly to catch the heart that flies out of Smoker’s back. The Vice Admiral heaves, his body stuck in slow motion as he realises what happened. You know the look all too well. 

You flick your finger to send his heart to Law, who catches it. Smoker falls to his knees, his cigars falling from between his teeth and extinguishing. 

“You can beg,” Law snarls. “But I don’t have to tell you a damn thing.” 

You wince when you round the rock as Smoker grunts and falls face-first into the snow. 

“C’mon.” 

You trail behind Law before catching up to him. He holds Smoker’s heart in his palm. 

“We need to find Caesar,” You say, watching him shove the heart inside his coat. “Creepy bastard.” 

Law’s jaw is set. “I’m gonna kill him.” 

You click your tongue. “You told me I wasn’t allowed to, so you can’t. Not until the plan is done. We need him.” 

“I—”

“Hey! Hello!” 

Your mouth opens slightly. “No…”

“Whatcha doin’ out here?” 

A smile breaks across your face, and you stop. Law keeps walking, only pausing because you do. “Luffy!” 

Law’s eyes widen. “Straw Hat.” 

You laugh; it’s wild and full of joy. “Luffy!”

Your Captain cackles and screams your name. “Hey!”

There’s a collective gasp, and then several heads peek out behind Brownbeard’s back: Robin, Zoro, Usopp, Brook.

You cover your mouth with your hand, the emotions you’ve kept suppressed finally exploding when they all jump down and rush you. 

Robin is the first to slam into you, her arms tight around your shoulders. “Look at you.” 

Tears stream down your cheeks, your cheeks hurting. 

“Hey, it’s my turn,” Zoro grumbles, waving Robin away before his arm circles your neck and pulls you into his shoulder. 

“Yo ho ho ho!” Brook laughs. “Isn’t it nice to see you…” 

Usopp runs into the back of Zoro, his hands clutching the sleeves of your jacket. “You’re here!” 

“I missed you guys,” You laugh. 

“We missed you!” Robin says, giggling behind her hand. 

“Get off her,” Luffy yells. “My turn!” 

Usopp and Zoro are yanked from your body, and you have half a mind to prepare for the impact of Luffy pulling you toward him with his rubber arms. 

“I’m so happy you’re okay!” Luffy exclaims, wrapping his arms around you ten times. 

You choke out a sob. “I’m happy you guys are okay. I’m so sorry I couldn’t meet you at Sabaody.” 

“Don’t worry about it!” Usopp says. “The only thing you missed on Fishman Island was Sanji bleeding out every 10 seconds.” 

You shake your head with disbelief. “Why am I not surprised?”

You all laugh together before you notice the extra legs hanging off Luffy’s lower back. Your mouth opens to ask about it, but Zoro cuts you off. 

“Don’t ask. It’s a long story.” 

You nod and point back at Law. “That’s Law.”

“I know you,” Zoro eyes him suspiciously. “You were at Sabaody.” 

Law doesn’t acknowledge it; his attention is solely on you. He won’t admit it, but his chest is full of warmth—your smile never fails to make him feel this way. 

“Thanks for helping me back at Marineford,” Luffy says, stopping his stride in front of Law. 

Law’s annoyed that Luffy pulled his focus away from you. “Don’t mention it.”

“Nami, Franky, Sanji, and Chopper were here before,” You say. “Did you get separated?” 

Robin furrows her eyebrows. “Here? They’re meant to be on the Sunny.” 

“Idiots…”

“Of course, they are…”

“They’re here?” 

“Hey, over there,” Usopp yells, his arm straight out. You turn, your attention diverted. “There’s a Marine on the ground.” 

You look to where Usopp points. “That’s Smokey.” 

Luffy’s ears perk up. “Smokey?” 

You gasp when you see Tashigi running straight for Law, tears on her face. “Damn you!”

The Marines follow close behind her, their expressions twisted with anger. 

“Really?” Law sighs. “Room.” 

He takes his katana and jabs the air several times, but it’s enough. “Shambles.”

Tashigi stumbles, gripping her chest. The Vice Admiral and his Captain stay down, their bodies limp in the snow. 

“Are they dead?” Zoro asks, his voice low. You shake your head. 

“Luffy, we gotta go!” Usopp screams. “Marines, incoming!” 

“Wait,” Your captain says, glancing at Law. “Traffy—”

“Head to the back of the lab. You’ll see what you’re looking for.”

Luffy nods and makes a sound of confirmation that he understands, and then he looks at you. “You coming with?” 

Your eyes widen, your throat growing tight. “What?”

“Are you coming with us?”

Your crew is silent, the yells of the Marines inching closer with every second. “I–uh, I—”

“Never mind!” Usopp cuts you off; his voice is full of panic. Brownbeard has already taken off with him and the others, leaving you and Luffy alone. “Luffy! Hurry up!” 

“I’ll see you soon,” Luffy says, a smile on his face. 

You don’t return it and nod. “Okay.” 

Law stands in the doorway, eyes tracking Luffy as he enters the fog. You make it up the steps with a frown, noticing the heart in Law’s grip. Smoker’s heart. 

“C’mon,” Law turns, closing the door when you’re safely inside. “You okay?” 

“I think so,” You wipe your forehead with the back of your hand. Law knows not to push further, to let you digest your emotions before he asks again. He gives you a sidelong glance when you fall into step beside him, concern swimming in his gaze. 

“What now?” You ask, pulling the ends of the fingers of your gloves. You peel them off and shove them into your pocket. 

“I need to speak to Caesar.” 

— Scene 4 —

“What have you done now, Law?” Caesar snaps. You hover behind Law, eyes darting around the room. 

“Nothing,” Law says nonchalantly. “I took care of it.” 

“Why was the Navy here in the first place?” The scientist asks, eyeing Law suspiciously. 

He shrugs, resting his ankle on his knee as he leans back on the couch. “Distress call, apparently.” 

Caesar’s gaze moves to you. “Are you distressed?” 

Law scoffs, clicking his fingers to divert the scientist’s attention from you to him. “Not from her. But perhaps from one of the tens of children you’ve been keeping here…”

Monet makes a sound from the corner, her wings unfurling slightly. “Watch it.”

Caesar’s eyes widen. “You didn’t tell the Navy, did you?” 

“They saw for themselves.”

“Argh! Get out,” Caesar growls. “I need to figure this out.” 

The door clicks behind you, and you bring the Earpiece Transponder Snail to your ear and adjust it. 

“I should’ve known you’d do this.” 

You wink at Law and press the top of the Snail. A crackling sound comes through the receiver. You planted a Black Transponder Snail under the couch Law was sitting on. 

The call is outgoing, and you concentrate on the voices. One is Caesar, the other, you’ve never heard. It’s deep and jesty, the tone getting harsher with every request Caesar makes. 

The call ends, and you relay it to Law when you walk down the hallway. A room moves with you, Law effectively removing all sound within the dome from the outside. It’s helped you more times than you can count. 

“He says, ‘I can kill them all. The Straw Hats, the G-5 crew, and Firefox Kin’emon. Joker will ensure the losses are officially listed as sea accidents.” 

“Joker, huh?” 

Your eyebrows tug together. “Who is that?” 

“Doflamingo.” 

Men in yellow suits run past you, and you guess they’re on their way to find your crew and the children. 

“What?” Your voice is close to a growl, stopping abruptly. “That’s who I heard… he sounds insane.” 

The voice on the Transponder Snail was bone-chilling. 

Law doesn’t look at you. “You know he is.” 

When Law told you of his childhood a year ago, within the safety of his Room, you didn’t realise just how evil Donquixote Doflamingo was. Law cut open his chest and bared himself to you, his voice raw and eyes glassy. He told you how he met Bepo, Penguin, and Shachi and found his crew. It ended with you in tears and Law’s head in your neck, your fingers working out the tiny tangles in his hair. As he calmed down, you spoke of your childhood—the girl stuck in Seam, your parents, Luffy saving your island, and you joining his crew. The night was a dark one, one you don’t wish to recall that often, but it was vulnerable, your souls intertwining with no way of undoing them. You’ve been attached at the hip since, challenging Bepo’s position as Law’s favourite—he would never tell Bepo, but it’s you. 

“What do we do?” 

“Continue with the plan.”

— Scene 5 —

Continuing with the plan went as you expected. Badly.

The sea prism chains around your body make you dizzy. They rub against your skin, leaving it raw. You curse whoever discovered the stone was harmful to Devil Fruit users. 

Someone is talking, but you can’t hear them, your head too full of cotton to comprehend anything. You know Law lies beside you, and Luffy is on the other side of him. Robin and Franky are to your left, and Smoker and Tashigi sit opposite them. The cell is small, from what you saw when your eyes opened for a moment before you fell back into the abyss. 

With closed eyes, you groan, trying to shift your hip into a different position—being like this is severely uncomfortable. 

“You shouldn’t put your trust in others, Law,” Caesar taunts, and your eyes fly open. It doesn’t make sense he would say that unprovoked unless—

“No,” You gasp, wriggling on the spot, pushing your arms out to try and break the chains. “No! Please!” 

Law turns to you quickly, seeing your panic-stricken expression. His eyes scan your body for any sign of injury, his heart racing at the possibility of you being hurt.

“I see your little assistant has figured it out, shurororo,” Caesar laughs. “If you’re worried about your heart, Vergo’s taking good care of it.” 

Vergo. The name races through your mind; where had you heard that before? 

The man stands behind the scientists on the other side of the wire, his grip around a blue cube holding a heart with an erratic heartbeat. But it can’t be. It should be the heart of the pirate Law stole it from, not his actual heart. 

But your disbelief is punctured when Law screams out in agony, his body writhing. 

“I’m sorry,” You cry, watching Law squeeze his eyes shut. “Please, stop.”

“I know you’re a rather shrewd man, but you never thought to worry about my secretary,” Caesar says, and you can’t bear to look. 

It’s all your fault. “I’m sorry.”

He moans, his body slowly lengthening back to normal. 

“It’s okay,” Law exhales, voice gravelly. “It’s not your fault.”

“Are you okay, Traffy?”

“What’s not her fault?” Robin pipes up, her head tilted. 

You don’t look at her; you focus solely on the man beside you. It's a silent conversation through your eyes, with a painful frown on your face. 

Law glares at you through his lashes; the guilt of giving you the responsibility of his heart in the first place eats at him. “It’s not your fault. I asked you to.”

For someone wrapped in sea prism stone and having his heart in the enemy’s grip, Law is oddly energetic. You eye him suspiciously; indeed, if he did have a plan, he’d have told you… 

You shake your head, not hearing him. 

“Enough domestics,” If looks could kill, Caesar’d be dead. “I thought I’d found a friend in you, Law. I’m disappointed.” 

The captain pauses the heaving of his chest, a smirk gracing his mouth. “So, it was all her, huh? Fine, I can admit that I wasn’t wary of her. That one’s on me. I just didn’t expect someone so smart to work for such a dumbass.” 

Caesar grunts, his fist swinging toward Law’s heart again. 

You shake your head, the adrenaline in your veins heightening as law keens over in pain again. 

“You’re amazing, Traffy,” Luffy says mindlessly. “He has your heart, but you’re still alive. Cool!” 

Smoker scoffs from the corner. “Pathetic… what’d you do with mine?”

Caesar breaks your staring contest with the Admiral, giggling as he raises another blue cube. “You mean this? Shurororo.” 

Smoker makes a disgruntled sound. “You son of a—”

“Uh uh,” The scientist smiles. “Who’s in control right now?”

“Master,” Monet appears behind him, and you jolt against the chains. You bare your teeth at her, pure rage coursing through you at the sight of her. She must’ve searched your unconscious body for Law’s heart since you never parted with it. The thought makes you shiver. “The feed’s ready.” 

A large white sheet dispenses from the ceiling, and a bright visual of outside the laboratory flashes on the screen. There’s a large blue-striped candy positioned in the middle. 

Caesar holds a device in his hand that you assume is connected to a monstrous number of Transponder Snails. “This is Smiley!”

You furrow your eyebrows, seeing a giant magenta slime ball moving feverishly in the snow. 

“He’s a living incarnation of the toxic H2S gas that destroyed this island four years ago!” 

A memory flashes in your mind; you sit in Law’s office on the Polar Tang, looking over photos in a book. 

“Two years ago, when Vegapunk was using the island, the island exploded when one of his scientists threw a fit with his Devil Fruit, rendering it uninhabitable…”

You gasp, using the limited movement of your hand to hit Law’s bicep. He nods, knowing what you’ve just realised. 

“That was the problem with my last test,” Caesar continues. “They were saturated with the deadly gas, but they were still able to evacuate. Boring! Disappointing! So I made a new one!” 

You cringe and look at Robin, whose usually stoic expression is slightly twisted. 

“The candy here boosts his poisonous composition, making him one hundred times more deadly, shurororo!”

“This is bad,” Tashigi mumbles; it’s the first time you’ve heard her speak since you’ve been awake. 

“Now, let the party begin!” 

On the screen, the slimy ball erupts; its face starts melting down, and the bottom of it turns gaseous. Hundreds of people are outside the lab, their bodies like ants on the video feed. 

You watch as the gas swallows them, and when there’s no movement from beyond the purple clouds, you balk. 

“This is crazy,” Smoker mumbles. 

“Everyone out there,” Luffy says. “They’re all going to die.” 

The cage jolts and creaks. Your body sways with the movement. “What’s happening?” 

“Shurororororo. Have fun!”

There’s a crack and metal on metal behind you, and then the cage swings backward. An icy wind hits you, and snow immediately starts pelting the cell. 

“Fucking hell,” Smoker grumbles as the cage starts rising. The swaying isn’t doing you any good, the ground getting further and further away.  

Luffy shivers, his teeth chattering. “I’m gonna be sick.”

“No, you’re not,” Robin says. “Enjoy the ride.” 

You feel the cage rock, but being suspended this high isn’t as scary as the impending gas.

The sudden commotion of cheering has you paying attention to the ground. There are hundreds of Marines surrounding the cage, and Tashigi gasps, throwing herself against the wall of the cell. 

The cage lowers, and the chains holding it creak under its weight. 

“No…” She whimpers, her eyes wide as she looks up. Above you, the purple gas looms. It moves fast and isn’t showing any signs of slowing. 

“I gotta say,” Franky chimes in, making you blink out of your stupor. “They really built this lab as a fortress, huh?”

Robin shrugs a shoulder. “Very true.”

Tashigi makes a sound of indignation. “How are you two so calm right now?”

“Yeah,” Luffy ponders. “How are we getting outta this?”

Law sighs, and your attention falls on him. He definitely has a plan he didn’t tell you about, and you’re secretly seething about it. “I wasn’t expecting Vergo, but no matter. Straw Hat, we’re sticking with the plan.” 

You scoff in surprise. “What plan?” 

Robin and Franky smile smugly beside you, and you suddenly feel like an outsider. 

“Time for the counterattack.” 

Luffy leers, his expression turning to one of mischief.

You shake your head. “So everyone knows about this plan but me?” 

“I didn't know,” Tashigi offers, but you huff with frustration. 

You won’t ask Law here, but the idea that you weren’t included stings. He gives you an apologetic look, but you remain deadpan. 

“We need to speed this up,” Law says. “If anyone can burn things, now would be the time to say it.” 

“Franky can burn things!” Luffy laughs. “He’s got laser beams, too!” 

“Can you set fire to that Navy ship down there?” 

“Huh? You mean half a Navy ship?”

“Whatever,” Law mutters. “Yeah.”

“Sweet. Sit back and be impressed, ladies,” Franky jumps to his feet and leans back. You roll your eyes but do so anyway, the back of your head thumping against the metal. “Fireball!” 

The heat speeds past you, warming you briefly before the cold seeps back in. Marines scream as the Navy ship behind them goes up in flames.

The smoke suffocates your lungs, and you cough, the air burning your throat. The air eventually clears, and Franky is nowhere to be seen. You furrow your eyebrows as you look around the small space. 

“Now, what?” 

Law sighs, standing. The chains around him go slack, clanging sharply to the ground. You blink.

“Are you kidding?”

“What?!”

“How did you do that?” Tashigi asks, her voice light. 

Law looks down at you, his hand rubbing his chest. “Caesar’s Transponder Snails can’t see us, so we only have a few minutes to move.” 

“How’d you get those off?” Luffy gapes. 

“I’ve been here for months. I replaced some chains about two weeks ago. I thought something like this would happen.” 

“And I didn’t know because…?”

He sticks out his hand, his katana materialising before him. “We’ll talk about this later.” 

Scoffing, you look away from him, feeling the sea-prism chains loosen around you. “And you just happened to get the normal one?”

Law tries not to take your bitter tone to heart, but he clenches his jaw and slashes his katana around the cage to cut everyone’s chains. 

Once Luffy’s free, he jumps up, screaming with happiness. You’re not in the mood to do the same. 

“Hey, Traffy!” Luffy yells, prying open the wire of the left wall. “Where do we go?” 

Law clicks his tongue. “We’ll start by—”

“Okay!” Luffy flings himself out of the hole, and you watch him freefall. You go to call after him but figure it's useless when he lands on a railing around the main building. 

“Tch,” Law scoffs, glancing at you. “Quickly.”  

“I’m going to see my Sunny!” Franky exclaims. “See ya!”

The purple cloud isn’t far away, and the sight of it causes anxiety to prickle your insides. It spills over the mountain, and Law uses Shambles to transport you, Smoker, Tashigi, and Robin inside the laboratory. 

Law directs you away from them immediately, tugging you down the hall. 

“This way.”

— Scene 6 —

Law walks beside you, his steps light. You don’t speak but are eager to see where the SAD room has been. 

There is a rattling of footsteps in front of you, and when the men in the yellow suits point their weapons at you, you sigh. Law quickly slices them down using Room, and then you look up. 

A giant door sits in the wall, and Law clears his throat. “This is it.” 

You look behind you. “It was in Building D the whole time?” 

Law says nothing as the doors creak and a siren starts blaring. The doors start sliding open, and the alarms get louder. There’s nobody behind you but the severed torsos of the yellow-suited men, and you follow Law inside when he steps inside. 

“Hm,” Law hums, a smirk on his face. You glance at him and shake your head with disbelief. This is it. This is what you’ve been working toward for almost two years. The realisation makes your heart race. 

“Law…” You exhale, spinning slowly as you take it in. 

The giant SAD tanks loom ominously over you, the bubbling sounds from within them making it all the more unsettling. Now, it’s easy. 

Law draws his katana, the blade reflecting the red lights of the tanks. Anticipation fills the space between you, and you forget why you’re mad at him in the first place. 

You open your mouth to say something, anything to quell the tension between you when a voice echoes through the factory. 

“It feels like I’ve been bitten by my own dog, Law.” 

Law exhales softly and turns, returning his sword to its scabbard while you freeze, the voice familiar. 

“It’s such a shame, Law,” Vergo says. “People like you, so smart, tend to die at a young age.”

You turn, flicking your finger up to summon Sew. A thread weaves around his neck, tightening before Vergo uses armament haki to snap it. 

“It’d be easiest for me to kill you by crushing your heart,” Vergo continues, ignoring your advances. “But that’s no fun. So, I’m going to torment you slowly. Maybe with her—”

Before you can comprehend, he appears in front of Law, slamming his chin up with a bamboo stick. You gasp, staggering away as he continues to hammer Law, pointedly ignoring you. 

It’s been a blur since then. 

The memory makes you falter, a fist knocking you to the floor, your cheek numb. He’s fast. 

Law is across the room, on the verge of passing out. 

“Vergo,” His voice is gravelly, his tone harsh as he says the name. The man watches you heave on the ground, cocking his head and ignoring Law. 

Vergo slinks toward you, his sunglasses obscuring his eyes. “Joker’s been interested in you.”

You clench your jaw tight to stop the shutter that goes through you. Vergo was the one who got Corazon killed. By some cruel twist of fate, this man led to the demise of your lover's best friend.

Law growls from where he lies across the room, slipping in and out of consciousness. 

“You and him have… similar abilities. He wants to meet you.”

“Go to hell,” You wheeze, gritting your teeth. Vergo scoffs a laugh as you cough, a metallic taste flooding your mouth; one of your molars is loose on your tongue, and you realise it just freed itself from when Vergo punched you—you must’ve kept it in place when you set your jaw. 

Law mumbles your name, his hand reaching for you. You spit your tooth out, the molar bouncing on the floor. Vergo walks back over to Law, a familiar blue cube in his hand. 

“Seems you and Law have become close. Joker’s going to have a field day,” Vergo laughs, tightening his grip on Law’s heart. You cry out as Law does. 

“Stop!” You try to yell, your body curling in on itself. The room spins, and you blink away the darkness from your eyes. 

Law grunts, his breathing ragged, and he clutches his chest. “Room.” 

The heart in Vergo’s hand disappears, and when you look at Law, he holds it. You sigh with relief, moving to try and stand. 

But he’s too quick; Vergo rushes Law, kicking him in the stomach, causing him to slam into the railing on the other side of the room. Law coughs, blood dripping from his mouth. The heart flies from the impact, and Vergo catches it. 

“No,” You cry, clawing yourself toward them, your hand flipping slightly to summon Seam.

But as the word slips from your lips, Vergo charges for you, his haki-laced fist punching your cheek. Seam falters; Vergo’s conscience controls his body, but you can feel his soul within you. It’s angry and haughty, the soul struggling against your ability.

“Wha–?”

Law goes flying backwards as Vergo hits him again, his beloved hat knocked off his head and disappearing into the depths of the laboratory. He pants, his hand covering his chest as he reaches his right hand forward. “Counter Shock.” 

Vergo freezes, his body twitches, and smoke erupts from his chest. “I have a message from Joker. He says it’s a shame it had to turn out this way.” 

You scoff weakly, pushing yourself to your feet while Law uses the railing to support himself. There’s blood dripping from Law’s lip, and you doubt you look much better. But as Vergo keeps talking, you register that Law’s attack didn’t work, and from the way his eyes widen, you know he’s realised, too. 

“I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” Law cuts him off, a tactic he’s used many times. It’s his favourite, you’ve gathered after being with him for two years, to throw off his opponent. “I should’ve known you were his lackey. Don’t you have better things to do?”

“Tch,” Vergo cocks his head, his hand tightening around Law's heart again. “You’re not the only one I’m after.”

You’ll never get used to the screams that escape Law, the sound motivating you to approach Vergo from behind. Silently, a needle takes shape in your fist, and you raise it, aiming for Vergo’s head. 

Around you, the SAD tanks rumble, the red light of the emergency lights casting an eerie hue. Law’s shrieks echo, and just as Vergo lets up the assault on Law’s heart, you swing, changing course at the last moment. 

Sew didn’t work earlier, and it hasn’t worked since, with Vergo using his armament haki to prevent the threads from doing any damage. But this time, instead of hitting him, you jab the needle straight into his back. 

Law moans out with relief, his limbs weak and his body taking the brunt of the pain. He slides down to the floor, hitting it with a thump. 

Vergo pauses, his head turning to glance at you. Your needle protrudes from him, just between his shoulder blades, but he’s not affected. You inhale sharply.

“Really? Now? I’m in the middle of something.” 

You whine with frustration and step back. Vergo approaches you, his nose leaking blood—turns out he is human. 

You breathe heavily, your feet slipping as you stumble backward. 

“I’m right here,” Law calls weakly. “Don’t touch her.” 

Vergo stops his advance and squeezes Law’s heart again. You falter, watching Vergo torment him. 

“Shut up. Lay there and wait until I’m ready for you. I’ve got to deal with her first.” 

“No!” Law pants, voice desperate. “I’m your opponent.” 

Vergo ignores him before vanishing. You try to even out your breathing, to balance yourself, and clear your head. You need to fight. 

“Needles,” You whisper, your head on a swivel. He could be anywhere. You move before he appears, your needle stopping Vergo from hitting you with the bamboo stick. You let out a sound of surprise, jumping back and preparing for his next attack. 

He cocks his head—he wasn’t expecting you to have observation haki. You barely notice the improvement of your haki, arms burning with each meeting of his weapon on yours. It’s fast and tiring, but you channel your ability, using Seam to suppress his soul. 

Vergo growls, his movement getting more erratic with each swing. He ducks, but another needle emerges in your other hand when he does so. You drop the one Vergo is concentrated on and clutch the new one with both hands, swinging it directly into his forehead. You unknowingly infuse it with haki at the last minute and send Vergo flying backward. 

Law laughs weakly, pride evident in the sound. You don’t let it distract you before you vanish. When Vergo’s body slumps slightly, Law sighs. 

You dodge Vergo’s attack as soon as you enter Seam; the man seems to know exactly where you’d be before you arrive. 

Letting out a surprised squeal, you point a needle at his jugular before he moves again.

“I’m in control here,” You pant, a slight grin on your lips. 

Vergo raises an eyebrow. “We’ll see about that, Dreamweaver.” 

You blink at the nickname, speechless. 

“Oh, you don’t know what you are, do you?” He laughs, using your shock as an opportunity to punch you. You swiftly avoid it, your body light inside your mindscape. “Joker has a lot to tell you.”

You scowl, holding a needle like a spear and stabbing him. “Joker’s not telling me shit. When I see him, I’m going to kill him.” 

Vergo scoffs, not bothering to check on the slash on his arm from your needle, the fluff of his white coat poking through the fabric. “I would advise against that. You are worth so much more than… this.” 

“Shut up!” You shout, continuously cutting him down with the little energy you have left—fighting inside Seam always takes a toll on you. Vergo takes the hits. 

“I’m not allowed to kill you,” He says. “Joker’s orders.” 

“If you say that name one more time…”

Vergo turns his head to spit blood. “You could be a god.” 

Shaking your head, your needle pierces his stomach. “Shut up!” 

You watch his soul go limp, hyperventilating as you process what just happened. The blood seeping onto the lush grass pisses you off. You clench your jaw to stop the emotions from overflowing and return to the material world. 

Law cries your name, his body hunched over where he sits. You rush over to him, your hands on his shoulders. 

“You okay?” 

He nods, pointing weakly at Vergo’s body. “He’s not dead.”

“I know,” You say, quickly snatching the blue cube from Vergo’s hand. “Here.”

“Thanks,” Law gulps, taking his heart with a shaky hand. “Scalpel.”

After he slots his heart back into his chest, wincing as he goes, Law brings you close to him. You wrap your arms around him and shove his face into your neck. 

“We have a lot to talk about when we’re outta here,” You whisper, a tear falling from your eye. 

Law hums. “Is this because I didn’t tell you the plan?” 

Straight to the point.

“Of course it is!” You exclaim, pulling away from him. You wipe another tear that rolls. “If you don’t trust me—”

“—you’re kidding, right?—”

“—I know you, Law. I know you want to protect me, and I know by not telling me the plan, you were protecting me from Vergo’s torture,” You look over at the man. There’s no doubt that if he got his hands on you, he would’ve tortured you for information—you’re Law’s 'assistant', after all. “I know and appreciate it; I appreciate you more than ever. But I can keep my mouth shut; I can be trusted. I’ve been with you for two years and never betrayed your trust like that.”

“It’s not about trust,” Law mumbles, tracing the bruise forming on your arm. “It’s about them.” 

“Who?” You ask, voice dangerous. “You better not be talking about Luffy.”

He bangs his fist softly on the floor. “Vergo. Doflamingo. Everyone from my past that can hurt you. You didn’t sign up for this when we got together.” 

At the sound of Doflamingo, your breath hitches in your throat. Law notices immediately. “What did he say to you? Vergo?” 

“He says Joker has a lot to tell me. He called me Dreamweaver.” 

Law makes a sound of frustration. “Fuck.” 

“You know what that is?” 

“No. But I’ve heard of legends with the same name. There’s no way…” He trails off, seemingly deep in thought.

You shake your head, focusing on the task at hand, trying to wipe the dried blood from the corner of his mouth to gain his attention.

“Anyway, I signed up for everything to do with you when we got together,” You say. “And none of those egotistical assholes scare me.”

“They should,” Law’s eyes peer into yours. “I’m scared of him.” 

“Law…”

“I can’t lose you,” He whispers, voice cracking. “If Doflamingo knows what you are to me, I’m scared of what he’ll do.” 

You reach for his arm, tugging him close again. “I get it.” 

“I know you’re strong, far stronger than me, and you can handle yourself. But I’m a selfish man.”

The only sounds in the factory are those of the tanks. You move to stand, helping Law to his feet. Having his heart back has made Law return to his usual self as you watch him summon his hat and katana back. He sighs when the hat fits smugly back on his head. 

“Ready to destroy this thing?”

“Not so fast.”

You cringe, Law’s hand tight around yours. Vergo stands there when you turn, his coat gone and body purple with armament haki. You freeze at the sight, Law removing his hand from yours to grip his katana, unsheathing it with an unimpressed look on his face—a sure sign that he knows he’ll win. 

Vergo doesn’t speak and speeds towards you, Law’s body poised and ready, like a true fighter. 

“Duck,” He says, and you do, watching in awe and horror as Vergo’s torso separates from his legs. It isn’t until you look up that you realise the room—the mountain—is split in two as well. 

You gape, tears filling your eyes. A devilish smile splits his face, and you return to your full height. 

“You’re incredible,” You murmur, not sparing a glance at Vergo’s mutilated body. Law scoffs, a hand on your hip as you search his grey eyes. 

Distant screams have you looking at the entrance and Law huffs. He casts his gaze over to Vergo, a sadistic gleam in his eye that excites you. “We have to get to Building R. But I’ve something to do before then.” 

— Scene 7 —

You stand against the mast of the Sunny, the celebrations on the ice below doing nothing to bring you out of your foul mood. A missing tooth with bruising and swelling has made you irritable and upset. 

The rest of the mission went smoothly, the only problem being Caesar and the two executives of the Doflamingo family, Baby 5 and Buffalo. Franky was attacked by them before you made it to the beach; their threats of what Doflamingo would do carried away with the wind when everybody else showed up. 

“Keep the ice pack on your jaw!” Chopper demands, lifting your arm back toward your face. You shake the memory from your head, not wanting to worsen your mood. The reindeer wears an uncharacteristic scowl, but under the guise, you see the emotions he hides. He was eager to help you when he saw you again, brushing off Law’s attempts at helping you.

“Sorry,” You mumble, pressing the bag against your face. The icy burn makes you wince, but you keep it there nonetheless. The wind picks up, and you’ve missed the salty air whipping your clothes and hair. 

“I can give you some medicine for the pain, but don’t expect it to do much if you don’t keep it iced,” Chopper says, his authoritative tone fading when he sees the ghost of a smile on your lips. 

Shaking your head, you pat his arm. “Don’t apologise, Chop. It’s my fault. I wasn’t paying attention.” 

“Bullshit.”

You look up from your friend to see Law. He wears his usual irritated, unamused facade, but his eyes shine with something akin to pride when he looks at you.

Chopper moves to stand in front of you. “She’s recovering.” 

“I can see that,” Law says, remaining where he is. “When can I talk to her?”

“Tomorrow—”

“It’s okay, Chop,” You mumble, stepping around him. He looks down at you in his human form, eyes filled with concern. “It’s just Law.”

“Did you see what he did to those children? They were screaming!”

“I was removing the poison from their bloodstreams.”

“It was terrifying.”

You smile. “He’s harmless, Chopper.”

The reindeer spins, jaw slack and eyes wide. “Harmless?! He cut all those Marines in half!”

“They deserved it,” Law says, his katana sliding off his shoulder. He leans it against the wall beside the door to the study. “Anyway, can I please speak to my girlfriend?”

“Girlfriend?!” Chopper almost faints. “I gotta go; this is too much for me. You two are crazy.”

As he stumbles away, Chopper shrinks to his usual size. “Food…” 

Law keeps his eyes on you, his gaze wavering to flicker down to the bruise on your cheek. His jaw ticks, and his face morphs into a scowl. “Tch.”

“I’m okay,” You reassure him, stepping forward and taking his hand in your free one. “We just need to get to Dressrosa now.”

“I’m sorry.”

Your eyebrows tug together. “For what?”

“I didn’t plan on you getting captured. You were meant to be with Nami and the others. That’s why there was only one set of normal chains.”

“Oh,” You whisper, looking up at him. “Law, I forgave you for that the second we were out of there. I knew you had a plan, and I was upset that you didn’t tell me, but it worked out.”

Law shakes his head. “I trust you.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

A memory flashes through your head, and you bite back a smile. “Stop saying sorry.”

Law seems to understand the reference. He pulls your hand into him, your chest bumping his. “I’ve got something to do before we set off. Want to help?”

It sounds sketchy, but you nod, sending him a grin twinged with excitement. 

—

After the ship sets sail following the Log Pose to Dressrosa, your nerves start to dwindle. Law sits beside you against the wall, snow raining down on you softly. 

You look at him. “Are you sure you want to talk to him?”

He scratches his cheek, sighing harshly. “No, but I have to at some point.”

Humming, you watch your friends dance around the deck, admiring the falling snowflakes. With another weight lifted off your chest, you sigh, content. 

“I didn’t expect to be on this ship again,” You mumble. 

Law gives you a sidelong glance, silently urging you to continue. 

“When we got to Punk Hazard, I wanted to go to Sabaody so badly,” You confess, skin tingling with shame. 

“I know.”

Your head whips toward him. “You did?”

Law nods. “You’re not very subtle, you know.” 

“I’m sorry,” You look at your hands in your lap. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like that.”

He tilts his head. “Like what?”

“Like I wanted to leave you because I didn’t. Truly.”

“I know,” He shrugs, voice quiet. “I understand.” 

You squint at him, considering his tone and posture. “Are you okay?”

“I—”

“Hey, Law! The Transponder Snail you asked me to watch is talking!” Robin calls. “And Caesar is chained up in the study.”

“C’mon,” Law rises, his hand outstretched for you to grab ahold of. You take it as a sign he’s not bitter with you—like he never could ever be—and follow him to the study. 

The Snail starts picking up clear dialogue as you sit beside Law, anxiety pouring over you like ice water. You remain locked up in the study; Caesar Clown opposite you with his hands in sea-prism stone cuffs. 

Law leans forward and picks up the receiver. “Colour me surprised. It’s the boss. I didn't think you’d show up in person.”

“Hello, Law. It’s been far too long, hasn’t it? A real shame you didn’t choose to show your face… or that of your assistant.”

The voice sends a shiver down your spine. 

“I figure you wanna know where Caesar is,” Law says. “He’s safely in our hands.” 

The scientist jolts at the sound of his name. “Joker! Where are you? They got me! Help me, please!”

Law shoots him a glare while you threaten him with a needle pointed at his throat. Caesar gulps and whimpers. 

“Question regarding the state of my cohort’s bodies,” Doflamingo barks. “Where are they?”

Law shrugs. “I couldn’t say. Nor does it particularly interest me. Let’s negotiate.” 

Doflamingo hums down the line, and you pray he’ll take the bait. 

“C’mon, Law, get serious,” He cackles. “Quit pretending like you’re an adult, and let’s cut to the chase. Where are you? Where did you take that girl? Answer quickly, or I may get angry.”

You inhale sharply, ignoring the wide-eyed stares from Caesar. 

“Oh, you’ll get angry?” Law taunts, but his fist turns white as he tightens on the receiver. “And what about your business partner… what’s his name again? Oh! Kaido. King of the Beasts, right? An emperor? If there’s anyone you’d wanna keep from getting angry, I think it’d be him.”

Doflamingo grunts as Law continues. 

“I wonder how he might react after he finds out you can’t produce SMILE anymore. Who knows?”

“Alright,” He snaps. “You’ve carried the joke far enough. What do you want to trade for Caesar? And that girl?”

Law’s face falls, clicking his tongue. “She’s not a part of the deal. Never will be. So get her out of your sick head.”

“Pity,” Doflamingo laughs. “I was hoping to meet her, and—“

“Resign from the Seven Warlords.” 

“Hm?” Doflamingo hums, his tone dangerous now that Law is leading the conversation.

“That’s the deal for Caesar. Resign, and you get him back.”

“C’mon!” Another voice echos down the line. “If Joker quits, he’ll be forced to leave Dressrosa!”

“Yeah, well,” Law says, picking at a small hole in his jeans—he’ll have to get you to fix it for him. “Shit happens, and once you’re a lowly pirate once more, the Navy won’t be able to turn a blind eye to you any longer. You have until tomorrow. If there’s a headline in the morning paper saying that you’ve resigned, I’ll give you a call, and you can have your precious Caesar back. But, if I don’t, my offer is as good as dead.”

He reaches forward and places the receiver back on the snail, and Caesar thrashes in his chains. “What? You’re going to kill me if Joker doesn’t resign?”

“I guess we’ll see tomorrow.” 

“And what of her?” 

Law growls. “Don’t even think of her. She’s a part of no deal and never will be.”

Slamming the receiver down on the snail, who gives a little squeak at his aggression, Law stands. You follow him, leaving the study and Caesar inside. Law blinks quickly when he exits into the sun, and you’re quick to grab ahold of his bicep. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah, are you?” Law’s tongue darts out to wet his lower lip. “Fuck, that was—”

“Exhilarating,” You leer, pursing your lips to suppress your grin when he catches the excited look on your face. Sure, Doflamingo scares the shit out of you, but you can’t help the adrenaline that runs rampant through your veins at pissing him off. 

“Yeah, okay.”

You lace your fingers with his to bring him back to you. His mind is miles away, and the simple act of squeezing his hand rids him of the faraway look in his eye. “And now we wait.” 

— Scene 9 —

Salty air swirls around you. The overwhelming scent in the breeze used to make your senses sharper; now, they lull you into relaxation. The sun is harsh, beating down on your skin, but you welcome it, missing the feeling of being on open seas. 

Beams reflect off the deep blue, enticing you to jump in. The urge is irresistible, and you would, if you could, the soul of your Devil Fruit coercing you to dive in, to repent for the sin of eating it. But you hold back, strengthening the grip of your fingers on the railing. 

The horizon is vast, with nothing in sight except for the light blue of the sky and the tantalising indigo of the ocean. You wonder how long it took for the first human to venture out on the seas and if you could have waited as long as they did—the waves too mesmerising to ignore for longer than a single minute. You long to plunge into the icy water, submerge your mind, and just exist. The depths are so close you can taste it.

The steady sway of the Thousand Sunny is enough to bring you to tears, though they don’t fall. You squint at the bow of the ship, the outline of the figurehead and your captain sitting atop it, a familiar sight that sends deep ripples of nostalgia and bliss through your chest. 

Someone joins you, their forearm against yours on the railing. You already know who it is before they speak. 

“Brought you a snack,” He says, offering you a round, plump tangerine. You smirk, watching him spin the fruit in his hand. 

“Nami’s going to kill you.” 

He shrugs, using his thumbs to pierce the top of the tangerine and peel the skin away from the flesh. “Worth it if you get to enjoy it.” 

You turn to face him, watching his expressions with keen interest. Law isn’t a man who believes he wears his heart on his sleeve, but you know better. He’s hiding his true feelings, and with the negotiation with Doflamingo up in the air, you know that his furrowed eyebrows and chapped lips are the outcome of anxiety rather than whatever excuse he would tell you.

Law removes a segment of the fruit, holding it out for you to take. His grey eyes twinkle in the sunlight, and you ponder the true shade of them—you’ve never seen him like this, fully submerged in sunshine. 

You pluck the tangerine slice from his fingertips and bite into it. The juice slides down your fingers, the sweet tang of citrus fresh on your tongue. 

“Silver.”

Law raises an eyebrow slightly, offering you another piece. “Hm?”

“Your eyes are silver,” You say, licking the sticky sweetness from your fingertip. “Not grey.”

Law doesn’t reply; instead, he opens his mouth to accept the segment you press against his lips. Your eyes don’t leave his as he bites into it, juice dripping from his chin. A smile spreads across your cheeks as he wipes it away with the back of his hand, eyeing you with faux annoyance. 

“You think so?”

You nod, using your thumb to dry the corner of his lip. “I know so, and they’re gorgeous.”

He snorts and shakes his head, the tangerine peel clutched in his palm. “Yeah, okay, sweetheart…”

A frown takes over your once joyful expression, and Law sighs, looking to the sky. “Okay, they’re alright.”

You laugh, the sound falling from your lips with such furore that Law inhales sharply at the mere thought of never hearing it again. 

“You’re gorgeous,” He mumbles, clasping his palms around your fingers and keeping them against his chest. “You’re the most precious soul alive.”

You pout; his gaze is intense in the daylight. Your heart swells in your chest; the pressure is almost unbearable. A giddy squeal leaves your mouth, and you jump up and wrap your arms around his neck. 

“Who knew Trafalgar D. Water Law could be such a sap.” 

Law's stomach turns as your lips form the letters of his full name. It’s surprising and terrifying, but it’s you. And when you finish saying his real name, he closes his eyes. He doesn’t know how to digest the truth that you’re saying it from a place of love, not malice.

When he cracks an eye open to see your wide grin, his shoulders relax, the tension receding from his body like the ocean at low tide; Law’s glassy, silver eyes search yours, and you lean forward to capture his lips.

He hums in content, tightening his hold around your waist. The affection has been a long time coming, having been on Punk Hazard for a few months, and it’s more rewarding than anything you could dream of. You giggle, Law pinching your side.

“Thanks for bringing me a tangerine,” You whisper, curling your bottom lip into your mouth to taste the remnants of the sweet fruit. 

Law’s eyes flicker down to your mouth. “Always.”

A large bird flies overhead, in his talons, a newspaper. 

“Law,” You swallow thickly, eyes following the creature until the paper drops on the deck. You tug him along quickly, feet slapping against the wood floors as you rush for the main area. 

The grass is plush under your feet when you jump from the third step onto it. In Usopp’s hands is the newspaper, his fingers slightly crushing the thin pages. He holds it out to you, which you take and pass to Law. 

His exhale is shaky as he reads the headline: Donquixote Doflamingo Resigns as Warlord of the Sea. 

“We have to call him!” Luffy exclaims as he bursts from the kitchen. “He resigned!” 

But Law’s already got the ringing Transponder Snail in his hand, the receiver in front of his lips. It rings for a while, and you’re unsure if Doflamingo will answer. 

Click.

“I resigned. Happy now?” 

“Tch,” Law tuts, swerving the phone away from Luffy, who is trying to grab it. “We’re handing Caesar over to you.”

“Well, that was the deal,” Doflamingo growls. “Now, put me onto my business partner. I want to confirm that he’s right where he’s supposed to be.”

Franky pulls Caesar out from the study, the scientist’s face alight with relief. He shuffles over, his shackled hands gripping the receiver when Law shoves it in his direction. “Joker! I’m so sorry! You resigned from the Warlords all because of me!”

Law yanks the receiver away. “He’s fine.”

“Great,” Doflamingo’s voice is slimy, making you grimace. 

“We’ll meet eight hours from now, on the southeast side of Green Bit.”

Usopp, Chopper, and Luffy’s ears perk up at the mention of a new island, their fingers inching to snatch the snail from Law. 

“We’ll leave Caesar there for you at 3pm. Pick him up, and this will be over.”  

A deep, rumbling laugh emerges from the snail. “Don’t say that. I was hoping to meet your girlfriend. I hear she’s got an interesting ability—”

Law grunts and slams the receiver back on the snail’s shell. He runs his tongue over his teeth, breathing heavily. How did Doflamingo find out about his relationship with you? 

“Fuck,” He curses, tugging his hand off his head. You remain still, mind racing. “Fuck.”

The crew is silent. 

“There were no other conditions?” Sanji pipes up. You look at him, confused, your brain swimming with apprehension. You want to pay attention to what Sanji is proposing, but the sick feeling in your stomach overpowers your ability to think straight. Doflamingo knows. 

“Why would there be?” Usopp asks nervously. 

“What if he brings an entire crew with him?”

Usopp and Chopper scream, Nami looking slightly green beside them. 

“That won’t happen,” Law mumbles absentmindedly. “Caesar is a distraction. If he brings more people, that would be better for us.”

“Oh!” Like a lightbulb went off in his head, Usopp stands up straight. “If he brings more people to the tradeoff, then less people will be guarding the SMILE factory?” 

“Exactly. The only problem is, we need to find it.” 

“So, we need a plan,” You finally get a grip on reality, knowing what the word means to the Straw Hats. 

“I was thinking we just wing it!” Luffy laughs, placing his hands on the back of his head. You were expecting this, but from the look on Law’s face, he wasn’t. “Take a trip to Dressrosa, destroy the factory—ooh! Maybe we can swing by Wano when we’re done!”

“No,” Law shakes his head, and you know it’s useless. “We’re going in there blind; we need a plan.”

“Sanji! I’m hungry. What’s on the menu?” 

Law growls, and you giggle lightly when you step up beside him. “I could’ve told you that wouldn't have worked.” 

“Sandwiches.”

“Oooh! I want a cotton candy sandwich!” 

“Just a cup of tea, please.”

“Cola for me!” 

“Where’d you put the booze?” 

“Milk for me!” 

“You guys are boring. Sanji’s sandwiches are the best!”

The rest of the crew follows Luffy up the stairs and into the galley. Law stares in disbelief as they all disappear behind the door. 

“Sorry, but I don’t like bread!” Law yells after them, his expression twisted into one of anguish. You continue to laugh as he gasps at how easily the secret fell from his lips. He glances at you and tuts. “Shut up, you.” 

“I’ll tell Sanji to make rice balls,” You wink before making your way up the stairs and into the galley. Pretending like you aren’t going straight into a death trap is one of your favourite pastimes, and teasing Law is more fun than stewing with anxiety in the darkness of your room. 

Law scrunches his nose, mulling over the thought of stacks of bread before him. 

“Are you just going to leave me here to starve?” 

Law’s usual stoic facade falls back into place as he observes Caesar sitting on the grass. There’s no hesitation when he answers. “Yes.” 

And then he follows your footsteps.

— Scene 10 —

The sight of land after sailing never fails to make your chest warm. Every time you’ve done it, it’s exciting, daunting, frightening, confronting, and unpredictable—and every time, you leave feeling like you’ve achieved something bigger than you could have imagined. Being a Straw Hat pirate is honest work. 

After this morning’s feast of sandwiches, or in Law’s case, rice balls, you formulated a plan. It was shoddy at best because everyone and nobody contributed to the final idea, and while you were used to it, Law was at his wit's end. 

He watches in horror as Luffy jumps off the side of the Sunny, screaming all the way down. You don’t need to check to see that he landed on solid ground; he always does. 

“Luffy!” Usopp scolds over the edge of the ship. “Shut it! We’re in enemy territory.”

Franky is next to disembark, his voice loud as he joins Luffy in discussing what they will do on the island. Usopp is having a meltdown, his anxiety palpable. 

“Straw Hat,” Law calls when his feet land on the island. You’re not far behind, coddling a stressed Usopp. “We can go into town; just don’t take any unnecessary risks. We don’t need—”

“Oh, hey! I just had a great idea,” Luffy exclaims, running over to Nami and Momonosuke. “Let me ride you, dragon!”

Law glares at him with a frown as he runs away. “Tch.”

“I can’t fly!” Momonosuke yells, fear evident in his tone. You ignore the conversation after that, walking over to Law when Usopp has calmed down. Your friends continue their usual antics, egging each other on and arguing about who's more of a man. 

You glance at Law, who has a deep-set scowl etched on his features. “They’re always like this.”

He doesn’t answer, choosing to stand and watch them in silence. Your gaze wanders off to the centre of the island, where there is a singular, giant structure just over the tops of the trees. When you squint to get a better look, you swear there’s a building on top of it. 

“Here.”

The sound of Law’s voice brings you back to the scene before you: Sanji, Kin’emon, and Brook on the ground, injured. You don’t doubt it had something to do with Nami. 

Said woman turns when Law approaches her, and you wonder how he left you alone so quietly—you still haven’t put that bell on him. 

“Take this.”

Nami furrows her eyebrows. “Huh? A Vivire Card?”

“Yeah,” He replies. “It’ll take you to that place, Zou, I mentioned at breakfast. My crew’s there.”

Nami nods, inspecting the piece of paper in her palm. “Uh, okay?”

The breeze is light as you walk to them, and the rest of the crew is crowding around, too. 

“If anything happens to us on Dressrosa, go straight there.” 

Nami goes to ask a question when Law turns and crouches down. You take that as your cue to hand him the map. His fingers brush yours, and you can’t help the heat rising to your cheeks at the mere contact—it’s different when people are around. 

He unfurls Bepo’s map on the ground, pointing to a place at the bottom of the main blob. 

“Kinda sloppy,” Nami mumbles and you purse your lips; you can’t but agree, the familiar paw mark on the bottom right of the paper making you smile. Law ignores her. 

“This is where we are,” Law says, moving his index finger to the middle of the island. “This is where Doflamingo’s palace is.” 

You peer up at the tall mountain in the distance. There. 

“The SMILE factory could be anywhere. So just search for info and don’t raise suspicion.” 

You side-eye Luffy, who gives you a cheesy grin. 

“My team is responsible for handing over Caesar on Green Bit up here,” Law moves his finger upwards to the green blob in the top left. He's talking to you, Usopp, Robin, and Caesar; all of who nod except for Caesar, who winces. 

It isn’t ideal, you being within Doflamingo’s vicinity, but Law knows better than to argue with you about your own safety. So he was at a loss when you insisted you accompany them to Green Bit.

“I think I’ve come down with ‘Can’t Step Foot On Dressrosa’ Disease. It’s terminal.” 

You slap your hand and grip tight on Usopp’s shoulder. He pales, a forced grin pulling at the corners of his lips. “You’ll stick with me, right?”

Beaming, you nod. “Of course. I think I’ve got a similar disease.”

Usopp’s wide eyes close as he cries out. “We’re fucked!”

“As for the Sunny Security Team, be wary of enemy attacks,” Law cuts him off. “You may have to be our decoy.” 

Nami gasps. “No! That’s a thing?”

“That’s okay! We’ve got Sanji to protect us,” Chopper giggles, nudging Brook. You roll your lips inward when the cook is nowhere to be seen. Surprising. 

Chopper screams in fear. “No! You can’t leave us here without protection!” 

“Luffy’s gone, and so are Zoro, Franky, and Kin’emon.” 

Law grunts, tilting his head toward the sky. “Those idiots. This plan is riding on them.”

“Get used to it,” You sigh, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Not helping.” 

“You’re not seriously leaving us here on our own,” Nami quips. “How are we going to protect ourselves?”

“Not my problem.”

—

After an argument or two, you, Law, Robin, Usopp, and Caesar leave the Sunny Security Team alone on the Sunny, promising not to take too long. It’s a pain, but it’s the best plan you could devise, considering Doflamingo’s presence on Green Bit. 

You start your journey, first going into the town to purchase disguises, which seems stupid now that you look at Law. 

“Cute,” You comment, mischief swimming in your eye. “Is that because you can’t grow a real one?” 

Law dodges your hand aiming to flick the end of the fake moustache attached to his upper lip. “Quit.” 

Robin comes back with sunglasses and a hat for you; the two pieces are cute at first glance. The sun is bright on Dressrosa, and the summer weather is in full effect, so donning the accessories won’t make you look out of place. 

“How’s this?” Law asks when Robin turns away to pay for your items. You open your mouth to respond, a quip on your tongue before you notice what he’s done.

With raised eyebrows, Law stands there, arms outstretched, his Corazon jacket unzipped, and his abs and tattoos on full display. You roll your lips inwards, suppressing a cheeky smile. 

“Hm?” 

You bob your head, no words forming. The apples of Law’s cheeks redden, and he goes to zip it back up. Robin leaves the vendor, joining back up with Usopp and Caesar, who already have their disguises on. Her sly laughter brings you out of your daze.

“No!” You squeal, lunging to halt his hands. “Well, yes, you’re incredibly sexy like this, but no, don’t cover up. Leave it.” 

Law gives you an unimpressed look, his nose scrunched slightly. “So, good disguise?”

Sighing, you run your hand along his chest, the sparse hairs tickling your fingertips. “Great disguise.”

Law’s eyes flicker down to your mouth, and your chest is tight with anticipation. But then there’s a horn, a high-pitched one and laughter. You jump, glancing over Law’s shoulder to see a clown standing there. 

“Come on, guys!” Usopp yells, waving at you. But you’re focused on the clown. It’s eerily similar to a toy you had as a child, unlike the humans dressed up in costumes on your island. The clown blinks, one eye closing after the other mechanically, and you yelp. 

Law’s hands enclose over your upper arms. “What’s wrong?”

You don’t say anything but blink, hoping your eyes are playing tricks on you. He pulls the sunglasses off his face and mumbles your name. 

You shake your head, and a slight uptilt of your lips have you laughing in disbelief. “I thought that was a toy.” 

Law looks to where you do. “You’re right. Weird.”

“Guys!”

You turn, your gaze on the ground, as you follow the rest of the team to the northeastern side of Dressrosa. 

— Scene 11 —

The bridge is eerily still when you stand at the entrance. There’s signage everywhere, many red with STOP and KEEP OUT printed on them, but the warnings do nothing to quash the interest you have in journeying across. 

Usopp trembles beside you, sweat dripping from his jaw. “Are you sure we need to go across this? Like there’s no other way?”

“Nope.”

He whines, covering his face with his hands. “Why am I on this team?” 

Robin fills the gap between you and Usopp. “I’m excited. The only thing to worry about is the monstrous flesh-eating fish. Think about how big they are; the bridge needs a cage to protect whoever’s on it.”

“Are you kidding me?” Usopp snaps. “I don’t need your morbidity right now.”

Robin shrugs and steps forward, her foot on the first panel of the bridge. “We better hurry, time’s ticking.”

“She’s right,” Law says, ignoring Usopp’s visible breakdown. “Let’s go.”

A hand latches onto your wrist, and you laugh, pulling your friend closer. “Together. Come on.” 

“Your disease seems to be improving,” He mumbles bitterly. Usopp takes a shaky step, the iron creaking under his weight. 

You follow suit, and then everybody is on the unsteady structure. There’s no movement in the surrounding water, and the group silently walks. The overwhelming stink of seaweed and rot is the only thing that abuses your senses. You scrunch your nose and try to focus on quelling the anxiety blooming in your chest. You’ve been walking for a few minutes, the wind howling through the iron bars.

You feel the urge to laugh bubbling in your throat, something to express the utter ridiculousness of walking on an iron bridge and being terrified of fish coming to attack you. The corners of your lips upturn as the laugh starts to escape when Law stops. 

“One’s approaching.”

You spin, the laugh dying on your tongue. “What?”

“Who?” Usopp squeaks, and his grip on your wrist tightens. You pay no mind to the pressure; it keeps your mind from thinking this is fake. 

If Law can detect the fish with his haki, then it’s a lot bigger than you thought. 

“That direction,” Law points to the left, a splash accentuating his statement. 

“There!” Caesar exclaims with his hands pressed to his chest. Your eyes dart to where he’s looking, and low and behold, there’s a giant fin skimming the water. 

The fish disappears under the bridge, and your hands move to squeeze Usopp’s arm.

Something is emerging from the water before you can say ‘go’... It’s unlike anything you imagined: thick, scarred, navy skin, mammoth, twisty horns, and rows of razor-sharp teeth widen before you. You watch as the fish flies above and over the bridge, the underside of its body just metres from your head. 

It continues its path overhead and lands with a splash on the other side of the bridge. 

Usopp is speechless beside you, his jaw slack and eyes bulging from his head. You look around at the group, everyone standing there watching the bubbles surface. 

“We should move,” You whisper, scared that if you speak any louder, the fish may hear you. It isn’t until the fin appears again, and then another, and another, and Law nods. 

“Move! Go!”

Your legs burn like they haven’t in a while, the collective footfalls of the group making the iron panels scrape against one another. 

“Watch out!” 

You veer to the right, a fish ramming its head directly into the iron bars where you just stood. Screaming with surprise and fear, you continue, Usopp a little bit ahead of you. 

The fish’s red eyes follow you, its jaw gnawing on the cage before it slinks back into the water. 

“Special Attack! Exploding Star!” 

Above you, Usopp’s bullets make contact with something, but you don’t dare look up. Sweat runs down the side of your face, and you feel useless. Seam does nothing against beasts like this. 

“Mil Fleurs.” 

You glance back to see Robin’s giant hand punch one of the fish’s heads, and Usopp load another bullet into his slingshot. 

“Skull Bombgrass!”

Law falls into step next to you as an explosion sounds above. The end of the bridge is nowhere in sight, and you feel your heart drop. 

“Are we even gonna make it to Green Bit?” You pant. 

“Usopp should be able to handle it.”

Your friend whips around at his name. “You’re kidding! You’re the Warlord! You do something!” 

Law peers back at the damage already caused and scoffs. “I can’t fight right now.”

“It’s a pack, we can’t fight them!” Robin yells. 

Law swears under his breath and surges forward. Usopp keeps up his attacks, sending bullets of various abilities at the fish. 

“Nose!” Law yells. “Unlock Caesar’s cuffs.” 

“What did you call me?” Usopp growls. “And why would I do that?” 

You answer before Law has the chance. “So he can fly us across the bridge.”

Caesar gasps behind you. “Like hell—”

“I’d reconsider.” You don’t see what Law holds up, but by Caesar’s reaction, you know it’s his heart. 

“You bastard! How’d you get your hands on that?”

Usopp unlocks the restraints, slipping the key back into his pocket. “Hurry up!” 

“You’re all going to die miserable deaths,” Caesar snaps as he turns around. A blue hue covers the bridge in front of you, and you glance back. 

“Law, if you could use that power of yours right now, that’d be great!” Usopp yells, transfixed by Caesar’s power, too. The blue beam coming from him is so large it swallows up four fish at once. 

“I can’t!”

“Well, fuck you then!” 

Law comes to a screeching halt, and you almost run into his back. The memory isn’t lost on you,  but you throw it away when you realise why he stopped. 

“Oh, perfect!” Usopp cries. The bridge drops off into the water, the other side of the iron structure metres from where you stand. There’s no way you could jump across there unless Law uses Shambles, which he won’t. 

“Caesar!” You scream, voice shrill to hurry him up. “Get over here!”

The scientist glares as he flies toward you. “Don’t you start ordering me around!”

You’re scooped up into Caesar’s arms, the wind slapping your skin as he speeds through the iron cage and to the end of the bridge. The wind carries away Usopp’s screams, and Law and Robin remain their usual composed selves. 

“Why didn’t we do this from the start?” Usopp exclaims, his hands grappling for purchase on the allusive gas. 

“Because I’m a hostage, and hostages are meant to be treated humanely!”

—

Green Bit is exactly as you expected: green. Giant flowers, fruits, vines, and mushrooms separate the foliage from the beach, the spectacles enough to stun you into silence. As you take in the sights before you, Robin and Law discuss the abandoned Navy ship to your left, but you don’t look. The flora is magnificent, with mushrooms in colours you’ve never thought possible and vines thicker than the Mangroves on Sabaody; you’re in awe. 

Nobody notices you walking toward the foreign plants, all too absorbed with the ship. Down the beach, there’s a rose, but one that could swallow the Sunny if it wanted to. It draws you to it, and you gladly obey its song, the red of the petals so deep it parallels the deepest blood. 

Sand puffs up behind you as you walk, the boots on your feet long discarded. You haven’t felt your toes in the sand for years; the right occasion never arose for such a thing. The grains burn the soles of your feet, but you take it in your stride. 

A rhino beetle scuttles along the forest's edge, its size much larger than you’ve seen. The sight of it should scare you, but all you can think of is how much Luffy would love it. 

You shed your disguise, the hat and sunglasses dropping to the ground when you reach the stem of the rose. Looking up, it’s taller than the highest building you’ve seen, and the thorns dotting the stem mimic steps that you could easily use. You got to grip onto the slick plant tissue, its fuzzy exterior tickling your palm. 

You hear your name from down the beach, urgency lacing their tone. Tugging your eyebrows together, you look down the coast, a group of people running after you. Fear pricks your skin, and you begin to climb, panic in your veins. 

Quickly, a voice whispers, he’s coming. 

You feel your foot slip as you frantically reach out for another thorn, your body falling backwards. No noise leaves your lips as you free-fall to the sand below. 

“Room.”

And then your feet are back on the sand, the grains uncomfortable. Blinking, you look around. “Law?” 

“What the hell were you doing?” 

You peer over at Robin and Usopp, shock evident on their faces. 

“What happened?” You ask, breathing heavily. 

“You were climbing that tree.”

You glance behind you, the rose still standing tall in the sunlight. “Rose.” 

“Whatever,” Law spits. “Are you okay?”

Still looking at the rose, you sigh. “I heard voices.” 

Usopp laughs nervously, turning around to head back to the bridge. “Okay, that’s my cue to leave.” 

“What were they saying?” Robin asks curiously. 

“He’s coming’.”

Law curses. “Doflamingo is on his way.”

“How’d you get that from that?” Usopp exclaims, eyes moving to the forest warily. “Does the forest speak?”

“Not quite,” Law studies you, and you wait to ask what he’s thinking. “Anyway, we’re dropping Caesar right there in ten minutes.” 

“So that’s it? She wanders off and nearly falls to her death from a giant rose, and we’re meant to act like everything’s fine?” 

“Yep.”

“I’m okay, Usopp. Truly.” Your friend sways on his feet, the lightheadedness of panic and disbelief catching up with him. 

“You two go hide somewhere,” Law regards Usopp and Robin. “Be ready to snipe if the situation calls for it.”

Robin takes off alone, leaving Usopp to complain as he follows. 

Law says your name. “Hide in the tree line. If he attacks, it’s you and me.”

You open your mouth, but the familiar ringing of Transponder Snail pins you in place. Who could possibly be calling at a time like this?

“Take my handcuffs off.” You forgot Caesar was here. The scientist has his head on a swivel, looking unsettled. 

“Shut up,” Law murmurs, fishing a baby Transponder Snail from his jacket. You swallow thickly before raising your eyes to the head of the rose again. 

Who was speaking to you before? How did they know Doflamingo was coming?

“Law! It’s Sanji.”

“Where’d you go? Please tell me you found the factory.” 

“It’s a trap! You gotta go right now!”

Your breath gets lodged in your throat, and your eyes widen. Looking out to the ocean, Dressrosa is in the distance, and you try to understand how this happened. 

“He’s still a Warlord! Right now, you’re handing over Caesar for nothing!” 

Law stills, his body tensing as he follows your line of vision. He eyes a speck flying through the sky, and he squints to decipher what it could be. 

You whimper, your body tingling with panic. “We need to leave. Right now.” 

Caesar breaks into a fit of giggles, and you feel your eye twitch. Expletives fall from Law’s lips before he tells you to run, recognising the pink coat of the man flying toward you. “Go, now!”

The flying figure approaches at an alarming rate, and you race for the trees, only to be pulled backward, your arms thrown behind you. 

There’s a rustling in the trees, but you ignore it, focusing on the tightening of the strings around your wrists. 

“Dreamweaver!” A voice announces. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

You struggle to look at what is restraining you, but from the sharp, cocky voice that echoes down the beach, you already know. Doflamingo hangs in the air; his arms outstretched with a Cheshire grin. 

“Joker!” Caesar yells with excitement. 

“Let go of her,” Law says, his gaze darkening when it lands on Doflamingo. “Now.” 

“And you got a Navy Admiral to show up? I’m impressed,” Doflamingo chuckles. You turn your head at an awkward angle to get a glimpse of the surprise arrival of the Marines, and you can tell Law is seething. “And since I’m no longer a Warlord, I’m shaking in my boots. I’m terrified!” 

“Fuck you,” Law bares his teeth. “You’re a damn liar.” 

You wriggle around on the sand, summoning Needles in an attempt to cut the strings. Tiny prickles cover your hands and forearms in rapid succession, and when Doflamingo opens his mouth to taunt Law again, you free yourself. 

Some Marines to your left are startled at your sudden movement, shocked to be in the presence of two Warlords and a pirate with a 650 million berry bounty. They quickly compose themselves, but the grips on their weapons are tighter than before. 

“Don’t touch me again,” You shout, hands positioned to summon your power if necessary. 

Doflamingo’s stare pins you in your place, and though you can’t see his eyes behind his sunglasses, you know he sports a wild gleam. 

“I’m having some trouble unravelling this situation,” A deep voice says. “I don’t have much experience as a Marine, so I don’t want to make any baseless accusations.” 

You falter, blinking in confusion. The Marines chatter amongst themselves as the Admiral at the head of the bunch finishes speaking. 

“Fujitora!” Doflamingo interjects. “You’re the famous Admiral who got recruited in the World Military Draft, weren’t you? I’ve heard you’re a force to be reckoned with.”

Fujitora brushes him off. “It seems to me, as Warlords, you’re both doing something that steps outside your boundaries. The fellow there referred to you as ‘Joker’... a troubling implication.”

Your steps are silent as you hurry through the sand, nobody paying much attention to you as Domflamingo’s grin turns dangerous. 

“I don’t care what you think about me. As for Law, other here, what will you do about him?”

Law’s eye catches you as you skirt around the back of the Marines’ group, darting his eyes back to Doflamingo so as not to raise suspicion. 

“If you’re referring to his alliance with the pirate Straw Hat, should he confirm this, he’s guilty. But what comes after that depends on his answer… betrayal of the World Government is a serious crime.” 

Caesar makes a strangled noise. “And what of her?” 

Fujitora raises an eyebrow. “I’m unsure I know who you’re referring to.” 

“That girl, the one with the Sew-Sew Fruit.” 

The Navy Admiral mutters your name. “I see. She’s a pirate, too, and with her strong ties to Straw Hat and Trafalgar Law, I see it fit that she should be arrested as well.” 

“That won’t do,” Doflamingo snaps. “She’s coming with me.” 

“Like hell!” Law yells as his calculated facade cracks. “She’s my subordinate.”

“So what will it be, Law?” Fujitora urges, drawing his sword. 

“It’s true! The Straw Hats and I are equal in this alliance!” 

You appear beside Law, the Marines’ looking back and forth to where you were and where you stand now. Doflamingo’s lip curls as he assesses the situation. 

Fujitora leans over, and a purple halo shoots into the sky without warning. You keep your eye on Doflamingo, not risking him moving any closer to you or Law. Caesar gasps, his face stricken with fear. 

The blue sky darkens to deep indigo like the sun has disappeared and night has fallen upon the world early. The tide recedes, and you spare a glance at the water. How odd. 

You ready yourself, feet shifting into a fighting stance and hands poised before you. 

“What is that?” 

Law’s shocked whisper pulls you from your concentration, and you look up. 

“Is that a meteor?” Caesar’s neck is craned back, and you nod. 

“What the—”

Frantic chatter and gasps sound from your left, and the Marines sprint for the tree line. 

“Your title has been revoked, Trafalgar Law.” 

A red hue covers the beach, and Law shoves your shoulder. “Go!”

The blazing rock inches closer, its speed never slowing. You don’t want to follow his demand, ever the stubborn mindset, but the pure fear on Law’s face forces you. 

“Room!” 

It’s quick, and you’re almost into the forest when Law slashes his katana, the monstrous rock splitting in half. One side heads directly for Domflamingo, who swipes his hand. You watch in horror as the rock splits again, this time into ten slices and then twenty. The segments crash into the sand, throwing him off his feet. 

You don’t see where the second half goes, but you guess toward Fujitora by the way the leaves surrounding you go purple. With your gaze on Law, you shout after him, but your voice is lost in the destruction. The aftermath of the impact sends you flying backward, Caesar and the Marines following. You throw your hands out, Sew multiplying at an alarming rate to form a net that catches everyone. 

Coughing through the dust, you emerge from the trees, only to be pulled back by a Marine. Before you is a giant pit that descends into the depths of the earth. It’s an unusual sight, but your heart rate increases exponentially when you think about Law’s whereabouts. 

“Where—”

“Look!”

So you do, and when the smoke clears, you feel your shoulders relax, but only slightly. Law, Doflamingo, and Fujitora stand on their own pillars of rock; the drop below them is endless. 

The men speak amongst themselves on the pillars, and you can’t make out what they’re saying. But, without warning, they all attack at once. Your mouth is dry with fear and apprehension, and you absentmindedly move your tongue to generate saliva. Though, it’s difficult with the dust and sand coating your throat. 

“He’s mine to kill!” Doflamingo cackles, pointing his finger at Law. You scowl and leap from the bushes, your feet sinking into the sand with every step. Law dodges at the last second, and whatever Doflamingo sends his way slices his cheek. Fujitora stands there unmoving, letting them fight.

Law sees your figure running from the trees and escapes from the pit, making his way toward you. “Run.”

Doflamingo follows, and you watch in horror as the pink man flies at you. 

“Law,” He sings, his attention snagged by your sudden attack. You fling a needle in his direction, its sharp tip barely missing his face. “Oh! Dreamweaver’s come out to play, too! How exciting.”

You sprint behind Law, weaving through the giant flora of Green Bit. Law tugs your hand, and you go crashing over a vine. Shambles catches you and keeps you on your toes. A quick zip goes past your ear, and you stagger. 

“Bullet strings,” Law explains, dodging said attack. You swallow thickly, the exhaustion eating at your muscles. “They’ll kill you if you’re not careful.” 

His breathing is ragged as he speaks, and you send a needle behind you, the dark chuckle of Doflamingo letting you know you missed—you won’t dare send him to Seam without knowing the full extent of his power; he’d most likely rip you to shreds. 

“I’ve been keeping a close eye on you, Dreamweaver.”

The nickname is still foreign to your ears. You don’t want to know what it means and why it’s the same as legends past. Law snarls at him, grabbing your wrist and transporting you further away. 

“If you join me, I’ll let your little Law go free, unharmed.” 

His voice gets closer every time Law puts more distance between you and Doflamingo. The offer is enticing only because Law’s safety is the only thing on your mind. As if reading your mind, Law tightens his grip on your wrist. 

“Don’t even think about it.”

There’s no time to dwell on the emotions that rise within you when Law flies forward, his body upside down as he slams into a tree. Almost invisible strings lace over his chest, torso, legs, and arms, and you spin around wildly to face the man responsible. 

Doflamingo slows, his shoes hitting the ground as he stalks toward you.

“No!” Law yells, his voice gruff as he fights against the restraints. “Don’t you dare touch her!”

The King of Dressrosa observes you, his head tilting as he scrutinises you. You stand your ground, protecting Law from the man who ruined his life. 

“Gorgeous thing you are, Dreamweaver… tragic that Law’s been keeping you hidden from me.”

You gulp silently but are unwavering. Doflamingo stops in front of you, his two-metre frame towering. You have to tilt your head back to look him directly in the eyes—though his sunglasses make it difficult to see where he’s looking. 

“Did Law ever tell you what you are?” 

“I don’t know!” Law’s voice is strained, the strings strengthening their hold. “I don’t know why everyone thinks I do!”

“Forget Law, you could’ve been a Warlord. And if you were feeling up to the task, maybe an Emperor.”

The titles he’s throwing at you mean nothing. “Leave us alone.” 

“Love has made you weak!” Doflamingo barks a laugh as he takes a step. He circles you, his gaze piercing. “Who knew that the one I sort was so… pathetic.”

“Fuck you,” You growl, watching him over your shoulder. He makes no move for Law but sighs, his pity palpable. 

“You could be a god.”

Your finger flicks and Doflamingo makes a sound of indignation as a needle pierces his side. “Stop saying that.” 

Turning around, you glower. Law’s expression is painted in surprise at how easily you attacked him, the needle deepening with every movement Doflamingo takes. Blood drips from the wound, and Law gasps. 

“Interesting,” Doflamingo regards the protruding needle, running his finger along its shining body. “Just as I expected.” 

Behind him, needles work to free Law, loosening the strings just enough so he can use shambles to transport to you. 

You ignore Doflamingo’s wondrous tone and continue to impale him. He grunts with each needle that sinks into his flesh, but his smile never lets up. 

“Dreamweaver,” He mutters, arms outstretched and Cheshire grin widening. He looks like a pincushion. “You are the only one who can defeat me.” 

Your power halts. Why would he say that when he’s at your mercy? When you could kill him here and now? Unless you can’t.  

You don’t say anything, knowing he’s toying with you. When you glance at the tree, Law’s gone, so you keep Doflamingo’s focus on you. 

“Come with me now,” He mutters, voice brutally low. “Or I’ll slice Law’s head clean off. I know he’s sneaking around here somewhere, and I won’t hesitate.” 

Your blood freezes in your arteries, and your body feels like it's in slow motion—deep in your soul, you know he’s not lying. He killed his own father and brother, and Trafalgar Law is no exception. 

“Fine. But stay away from Law.” 

“You’re aware of our history then? What’d he tell you about that traitor, Corazon?”

Silently, your hands return to your sides. You inhale deeply, calming your nerves. Law won’t forgive you for this, but you’d do anything to keep him safe. With your glare as sharp as a needle, you put your wrists together before you and shake them. “Take me away, then.”

Doflamingo smirks and cackles, the sharp sound echoing through the trees. Law freezes at the noise, knowing it can't mean anything good. With his heart in his throat, he transports himself to your location.

But when he arrives, Doflamingo is gone, and so are you. 

Taglist:

@fandomhoe101 / @valen-yamyam16 / @chibinasuu / @xsuvs / @curiositycoven64 / @chillerkiller / @loserbee14 / @theloserqueen / @meritxellao / @mirtiell / @dreamistsblog / @notbleachtea / @doxxypoxxy / @hellavadog / @disgruntled-tortoiseshell / @anitaanita / @bi-narystars / @milkteeboba / @starlightaurorab / @newdruid / @tumdlrnewb84 / @alicee-carter / @slep-s / @zzzzzoey / @itsmekalou / @lone-ray

i think this is everyone! if i've missed you or you want to be tagged in the final part, please let me know!!

[winnie1emon]

✧.* casually thinking about tutor!mattheo...

word count: approx. 590

cw: MDNI, smut, no plot maybe idk im dumb, fingering, praise, public, teasing, overstim, edging (fem receiving)

a/n: quick little drabble/blurb (?? idk what theyre called tbh... someone teach me please) + sorry if this sucks and has spelling mistakes, i’m in class writing this 😵‍💫

"It's not choice B either right..." you huffed frustratedly, turning your head to look at Mattheo sitting beside you in defeat.

"No, but there are just two options left, you got it," Mattheo encouraged, pairing his words of encouragement with a small curl of his fingers that were currently buried into your glossy cunt.

You let out a strangled whine, squeezing your thighs together and attempting to cover up the lewd scene with your skirt as you said with a shaky breath, "I don't know, can we just skip this one?"

"Skip it? You only got 3 more, doll, just choose one, fifty-fifty..." he cooed into your ear. "A or C, hm?"

You dipped your quill into the ink, tentatively circling choice A.

"See, smart girl," he huffed lightly, beginning to pump his fingers slowly in and out of your cunt. You squirmed in your seat, a small moan escaping your lips. You bowed your head as he increased his speed, the low and quiet lewd noises ringing in your ear as they disappeared around the library. You bit your bottom lip, warily looking around the mostly empty library— with the exception of a few stragglers studying almost just like you.

The way his fingers glided with ease, hitting you at the right spot, your legs began to tremble as your mind started to turn fuzzy. “Mattheo… I’m gonna-”

“Not yet,” he cut you off, his fingers slipping out and his hands resting, cupping your cunt.

He had been doing this for over an hour, using a more alternative way to tutor you for your upcoming Transfiguration final.

“Still got two,” he said, pointing at the remaining two multiple choice questions.

You stared at the textbook and you could’ve sworn the words were dancing around. You tried to read the question, but your brain registered nothing as you were left frustrated with Mattheo constantly denying your orgasm.

“It’s that one,” you said, throwing your finger on the textbook.

“No, but nice try,” he cooed. “Just kidding,” he added, lifting your chin up higher to see your finger planted on a diagram and not an answer choice.

You let out a groan of agitation and a mix of desperation as you blinked slowly, your eyes roving over the textbook.

What spell turns an object into stone?

How were you supposed to know?

Taking a gamble you circled A and before you could ask if it was the right answer, he had already told you it was by the way his fingers started to circle around your clit.

The movement made your hips twitch slightly forward, seeking more friction. In fear that he’d stop again, you forced yourself to look at the last question. It seemed out of place, written in with green ink, messily placed unlike the other black words on the page.

You peered at Mattheo incredulously, wide eyed in surprise.

“Answer it. Who do you belong to?”

Given the surroundings and the situation, of course you didn’t want to give in to such an erotic act, but as you felt the sensation of his fingers teasing your entrance, you spoke.

“You.”

You felt the full length of his two fingers pushing past your folds and your brain went blank as it hit the spot you so desperately wanted it to, leaving a mess on his hands once you came.

He hummed in approval, looking at the remnants of your release coating his hand before taking his fingers into his mouth and standing up.

“Same time, Thursday?”

―――――――――ʚ♡ɞ―――――――――

[matchadobo]

hi lovie, hope ur doing well! i wanted to request some hurt to comfort with kid. jealousy trope maybe? really just let ur creative juices flow. all i ask for is angstttttt cuz i just can't get enough of it. thank u babes <3

KIDD; catching feelings for his fvckbuddy

wc: 3882

warning/s: semi-nsfw 🔞, p in v is heavily mentioned but no occurrence of the actual thing, fem reader, hurt to comfort, kidd being an emotionally constipated asshat

note: inspired by the famous scene of fellow travelers, i have no knowledge of the show i just saw it on IG and got an idea for this request c: click for the -> scene

"i should probably go." you mumbled to kidd, tearing your bare frame away from his embrace. you sat at the edge of the bed to hurriedly gather your clothes and slide them back on your body.

kidd sat up, the satin comforter falling off his chiseled torso down to his lower half. "it's the middle of the goddamn night, nobody will fuckin' know." he rustled his hair, irritated at your inclination to always rush out of his quarters.

"all the more reason to leave, right?" you smiled a little. "good night, captain." you gave your garments one final pat down before waving goodbye at him and shutting the door.

the quiet sound of the waves and the subtle rocking of the ship mirrored the mundane void you left in your wake. but you two agreed to have it that way, no feelings attached. act as usual as you two could be. even after spending the night skin to skin against each other while sharing empty kisses and hickeys.

having the same needs and desire for each other, it began on a night where liquor loosened both of your restraints and the pooling warmth and lust it brought was enough for kidd to bring you to his quarters. until it became a regular thing. one look from across the hall, between the members that composed of the kidd pirates, you two would easily excuse yourself to a covert corridor so you could sneak in a quickie.

even with the presence of clothes, the scorching heat of the sun, the dampness of the rain, and the possibility of crew members catching you two; it never mattered to the both of you so long as you two satiated each other.

kidd would shamelessly pull you away just so he could feel your warmth around his length, shoving and fucking you deep by the walls of his ship. consequently, you would instigate a quickie by sitting close to him, rubbing thighs and touching knees. sometimes discreetly sitting on his lap for a moment while flashing him your undies or cleavage as you move closer.

it went on for a while. when a few weeks passed, the crew already knew that you two were kicking it off. you two could be heard during the night and they mostly see you exiting his quarters in the middle of the night and waking up some of the ladies at the dorms when you sneak back in late. but they had all agreed to act oblivous, out of fear and respect for the both of you.

moreover, you and kidd vehemently agreed to keep it a secret. the first time you two did it, you two kind of freaked out. wondering how the crew would take it and the image of reputation of kidd and you.

but you were mostly the first one to always leave. on your end, you weren't embarrased or anything. you just respect kidd so much, you'd rather not get caught whoring for him. you also don't want to catch feelings that could ruin whatever's going on with the two of you. you admire him that much.

even though you already did catch feelings, you just don't realize it. caring too much about what he thinks is already enough. that's why you always left, to flush it all down. because kidd would never catch feelings, right? he just wants sex with you that's it.

little did you know, your aversion started to bother kidd after some time. it never occurred to you because he was never really in touch with his emotions with you. he just fucked you and that's it. and it's all it ever meant to you, he always thought to himself. sure there's admiration and respect, but that's given enough that you're under his charge.

but it did made him quite worried when it happens frequently. kidd wasn't one to overthink, nor be self-conscious. but when you always hurriedly leave like that, acting like he kicked you out or something, he starts to think if you didn't enjoy it. even though he has a clear image of you reaching your climax a few minutes ago.

it started with that. then it extended into his concern as he gradually started caring what you think for some reason. it usually started during sex; whether you enjoyed the act or if you slept nicely. then it extended to the little things on the daily; if he made you laugh, where you usually are, if you're eating well, has he done something harsh, and whatnot. it makes him wonder why you leave so fast so often, if he was doing a perfect job of satisfying you.

kidd was interested in you. you were one a of a kind. someone so rare that he was lucky enough to stumble upon. a gem that piqued his interest. it's one of the main reasons why he instigated on having a fuck buddy relationship.

he liked how you measure up to him despite your size difference, how brave you look in the battlefield, he adored how you smiled along with how your eyes shine, how he loves hearing you laugh, how you fit in his arms after the deed, how he never ran out of things to talk with you, how you listen to him ramble as he either brags about his achievements or his nerdy obssession with tinkering.

he truly noticed how beautiful you are when he's in you, when he takes in the full glory of you as you were bare under him. when he thinks about these stuff; it's making him daydream and spiral deeper into you. he hated it.

he hated how it made him think how much of a fool he was. it was just about the sex. that's why you leave immediately, he deduced. he thought that maybe, you were scared or ashamed of what you two are having.

so what's the fucking point of continuing if he started catching feelings? the past kidd wouldn't care about shit like this. and it irritated him how much he cares about it now.

that's why the next day, when you tried to insinuate a quickie, he brushed you off. and he never brushes you off. so you knew something was up.

"woke up on the wrong side of the bed, captain? the hell?" you snarked when he tsked as you sat close to him and rubbed your chest on his arm. he'd usually put an arm around you discreetly but this time, he just rolled his eyes.

"i'm tired." he growled, scooting away from you a little to reach a can of beer by the table.

"hmm, need a massage? we can do a quick one, crew seems busy." you said in an inviting tone, shifting closer as you rubbed on his arm.

"just...fuckin' do whatever you need to. quit bein' all over me for a bit, alright?" he asked in an exasperated tone, standing up and stomping towards his quarters. not even sparing you a glance.

that was your last conversation for the day and you didn't come to his quarters that night. you decided to let him be, you thought that maybe he's conflicted with something and decided to leave him alone.

until days passed and he was still acting different. he wasn't looking your way anymore. he sat at the other end of the table during meals, neither near or facing you. you don't catch him looking behind to check on you. although he still talks to you, he became cold. he answers short sentences and dismisses it. he always ignored and brushed off your advances. and it was starting to hurt.

so during the night, you visited him on his quarters.

"i didn't say anyone could come in-" he was angry while responding until he caught sight of you.

"did i do something wrong, kidd? it's been several days and... you've been distant." you rubbed your shoulders in apprehension, desperately finding meaning in his eyes curtained by scrunched up brows.

"you're fine. it's late, you should get some rest." he dismissed immediately, turning his back on you.

"what about you? are you stressed? you're doing okay lately?" you inquired, walking closer in hopes of instilling something cordial.

"quit worryin' about me." he snarked, back still turned on you.

you sighed. and tried one more time. you sat at the edge of the bed next to him. he exhaled heavily feeling the mattress sink at your presence.

"kidd, talk to me." you expected, looking up at him. growing anxious at his decline.

"just go, name. i'm tired and i need some damn rest. why are you even so persistent about something so fuckin' trivial? why does it concern you, huh? do you want to fuck so bad? fine! get fuckin' naked, jesus christ." he stood up on his feet as his voice gradually increased volume.

that's when your vision narrowed, your cheeks burned, and your eyes stung. "n-no, sorry. i-i'm gonna go." you swallowed, leaving his room at once.

"that's all you ever do, you just fuckin' go, aye? can i blame you, though? feelings aren't supposed to come into question. we're just fuckin', damn it." kidd silently told himself, sitting back down as he ran fingers through his hair. "i just really have to start catching feelings, huh? what a goddamn idiot." he plopped himself to the bed, spreading into a starfish position as he closed his eyes.

so you ran away from his room, away from the victoria. you sat by the port far from where the ship was docked, where you were met with seagulls playing by the sea. you needed a new breather.

but kidd was at war with his head. he surprisingly felt bad. and he was itchy in his position; he wanted to move, to stand up and run after you and tell you how he feels. but with his hulking pride? it won't be so easy.

more days passed after your encounter and you two were distant with each other. killer and the others noticed it but didn't bother prying. they know they're on thin ice if they so much as ask about your situation with kidd.

what would pull kidd's head out of his ass was when he saw you out the pub, getting overly friendly with other men. in your defense, you were sitting by the sofa alone and they came to join you.

he, killer, heat, and wire were sitting by the barstools a few tables ahead of you. kidd was constantly looking over his shoulder and saw you enjoying yourself. the sight of you with other men rubbed him the wrong way. it prompted him to drink more than he usually does.

"hey boss, you okay? you seem... paranoid?" wire started, looking around to see what was wrong.

"shut up." kidd replied in a heartbeat, chugging his rum as he tore his eyes off the freak show that is you with other men.

but you don't catch kidd's eyes so you didn't realize something was wrong with him. why would it even bother him anyway?

until kidd got super drunk after stuffing himself with rum and roasted meat. he heard the men laughing a little too loud along with yours. he couldn't take it anymore.

and all in a blink of an eye, a fight broke out in the pub.

kidd started it with the man who sat next to you, rubbing a little too close and too often at you. he grabbed his collar and punched him flat on the ground. the other men tried retaliating but killer, heat, and wire were already taking care of them. they had no choice, their captain started it.

you sat there in absolute shock with a hand over your mouth which soon traveled onto pinching your temples.

"hey! guys, fucking stop it! will you please fucking leave it?! the pub owner already called the stationed marines!" you physically got in between all of them, tearing away your crew mates from the knocked out men. poor men who got innocently involved in your captain's fury.

"leave it, kidd! for fuck's sake, just listen to me for fucking once!" you tugged on kidd's arm, which was threatening to land a feral punch on the knocked out bloody man lying on the ground.

he let go and let you drag him out the pub. you all ran in a secluded alley, somewhere far from the pub.

"what the fuck was that?! can someone tell me what the fuck happened?! were the guys jeering at y'all or some shit?!"

"we just backed up, boss." heat shrugged, wiping off blood from his busted lip. so your gaze landed on kidd, who got off with bloody knuckles and a bruise on the cheek.

"they were all over you, you think nothing's wrong with that?!" he pointed over to the pub, adamant on his cause.

"am i not allowed to socialize with other people now?! they were accompanying me because i sat alone! i sat fucking alone! they were not all over me. as a matter of fact, they helped changed my mood. is it so wrong to have fun with them?!"

"and you couldn't even be bothered if they were takin' advantage of you? tryna bed you or some fuckin' shit." kidd crossed his arms, avoiding your gaze.

"and what if i do agree, huh? what if i want to sleep with them? how is that any of your fucking problem? when you won't even bother looking my damn way these past few days. does it concern you who i fucking sleep with?" you shouted with blood rushing to your face, your heart was beating so fast and your head was pounding. your eyes were stinging with the precarious tears coming your way.

"yes! it fuckin' does, name!" he answered almost immediately, his eyes teary and bloodshot.

"because i wanna be with you! i want to sleep in the same bed all night with you! not see you kick yourself out each night we do it just because you don't want them seeing you leave my quarters. like it fuckin' matters! i'm the captain of my own damn ship! who the hell cares if you leave my quarters by morning, aye?!" he wiped off the falling tears and sniffed as his nose got stuffy. "i want us to go on goddamn dates, take you out to eat on fucking restaurants, buy you shit you like. i want to know what goes on in your mind. if you feel the same way or i'm just fuckin' kiddin' myself." he laughed bitterly. "i want to spend more time with you, get to know you other than the times you got naked in front of me."

right there, killer and the others almost lost air. wire even coughed up a little blood stuck on his throat. they all excused themselves silently and left you two be.

"but who am i kiddin'? we're in this shit for the fuck, aye? sure enough, why the hell would you settle for a brute like me?! a foul, vicious, selfish, and prideful jerk like me? i sure as fuckin' hell wouldn't." he sat by the asphalt in defeat, running his hand through his locks. ashamed of himself really. confessing shit like that even though he thought you'd fold first. he thinks of himself as a joke.

but you, you were stunned. you didn't even know you were crying. all you could do was kneel before him and pull him in a hug.

kidd's eyes widened and he stiffened up. you really smelled nice, you felt warm. it was all that ran through his head. his embarrassment from his confession was now long gone. you somehow corrupted his thoughts yet again.

"for the record, i had the biggest crush on you." you said to him and he pulled away so he could see your face if you're screwing with him. "really. one of the reasons, if not all, why i joined."

kidd immediately flushed red. he looked away to avoid your gaze.

"this all happened because your dumbass couldn't talk about your feelings." you gave him a flick on the forehead. "so, what if we have that 'date' you wanna have and sort this all out?" you placed your hand on his jaw, fingers spreading across the sides of his cheeks to cup his face. "it's not fair that you're the only one who gets to confess."

"you can stop being cheeky now, it's annoying."

"hm? but your red cheeks says otherwise."

you soon took him back to the ship, you told him to wait by his quarters since you'll fetch the ice pack. when you came back the room was empty, you looked around only to see his bathroom door ajar with a little amount of steam escaping.

you tsked to yourself, sighing as you waited on the edge of the bed. when he finally emerged from the bathroom, you were ready to berate him. only to see him fully naked, without so much as a towel hanging around his hips.

"w-why the fuck are you-"

"hm? ain't the first time you see me naked. why bother coverin' up?" he crossed his arms, smirking. he clearly knows what he's doing. now he's all haughty. has he cleared his head in the bath? or did the evident blush on your cheeks rubbed his ego?

"i told you to wait here and i'll get you an ice pack, you look like a fucked up fruit." you placed your hands on your hips, fighting the urge to look down.

yet all he did was march closer to you but you kept your front steady, maintaing eye contact. and he was quiet and smug. he fetched a towel on the way to wrap around his hips and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"honestly, when will you listen?" you sighed placing the clothed ice pack up to his cheek. he placed his hand over yours, goosebumps spreading across your skin with his touch.

"i got it." he said sparing you a cheeky glance, you yanked your hand away in return.

"why'd you take a bath? you wanna rile me up, huh? by not listening to me?" you crossed your arms.

"i just felt fuckin' dirty and i'm all bloody, do you give a fuck now if i shower or not?"

this is pretty much how your normal conversation goes. you snark at him, kidd snarks back even harsher. that's why talking seriously wasn't in your bucketlist with him. he has an insufferable temper and you don't plan on submitting to his anger. really now, one of the things you have in common is being stubborn.

"it's just that... we're going out later in the day and... i don't want to go around smelling like absolute dogshit when i'm around you."

"ah you don't, huh?" you took in his flustered state, scowling face with red ears and pressed lips. avoiding your gaze firmly. "well, i guess i'd better get ready myself. gotta doll myself up too. keep that ice pack on your cheek, okay? don't make me tape that shit."

you saw yourself out, fighting your smile as you exited the door. kidd lied down flat on his bed, clutching his chest as he bathed in the foreign feeling of love beating in his chest. while you ran towards the ladies' dorm in full speed just to scream in your pillow in excitement.

the night went on with you two enjoying yourself at a diner. telling each other how crazy you felt for each other. it later turned into stupid things like how he broke the spoon or how you keep on downing a glass of wine (it's cuz you were nervous).

you and kidd decided to spend the night in a motel, to have the time and space to yourselves. because you two are going to be making your way to your room kissing like rabbits in heat.

kidd would have you in his hands, carrying you by your bum while you wrap your arms around his neck for support while you tug on his locks. he would slam you against the door while you turn the knob open.

once inside, he'd be keen on taking your clothes off first. discarding them on the floor while you get busy on taking off his goggles, fur coat, and shirt. but there was no hurry, he walked slowly you could take your time.

kidd would sit by the edge of the bed while his lips were still connected to you, sucking aggressively as if it's his last. his hand grabbing your bum and kneading it with much fervor. his lipstick stains would mark your cheeks and neck, an obvious obssession with those parts of you.

surprisingly enough, you two spent the past hours entangled in each other's limbs. you were lying down on his torso while he had his arm secured around you, pinching your skin playfully or just tracing circles across the surface. his mechanical arm already discarded. both of your clothes scattered across the wooden floors. it was just your bare body against his.

there was something different about the way he kisses you now, his lips lingered more rather than the usual hungry kisses that pried your mouth open. his touch was gentle as opposed to the usually firmly vulgar grip he has on you just so he could force his length in you and fuck you stupid. his moans in your lips were heard and warm, as if he wasn't trying to usually stifle it.

he tuck strands of hair behind your ear while he returns your kisses, his hand soon settled on the back of your head protectively. your one hand was combing deep through his voluminous, red locks while the other cups his face. it was such a foreign sight, where you two weren't in a hurry. not too impatient in taking your clothes off, reaching your climax, or leaving first thing after fucking. it was like the restraints were off, the weight you two were bearing was now off your shoulders, and all the time in the world stopped for both of you.

"now, how does that feel?" kidd broke out, pulling away from your kisses but his voice was raspy and low. almost a whisper. "how does it feel to not rush and take your time? good, aye?" he nuzzled his nose on your neck, flesh hand angling your head upward from his grip on the juncture of your nape and head.

"since when did you care about that? being romantic and all." you giggled a little as his breath came into contact with your skin.

"since you started becomin' the bane of my existence." he pressed wet kisses on your jaw upto your cheek, and now he's finally eye to eye with you.

"oh shut up, you love me."

"aye, unfortunately."

AAAAAA 🥹

thank you so much for the request anon! i hope this somehow aligned with your expectations :DDD this request was so perfect for this trope 🥰 it was fate that the reel came across my feed LMAOAAHSJHSHSHS

i did a different approach to this, i made kidd be the one to say the line when i initially thought it should be reader. i just love the flavor of him being totally crazy with reader he'd wax poetic a confession 🫶🥺 love this tsuntsun so much 🤣