#whistling brook

[cressida-jayoungr]

One Dress a Day Challenge

October: Black Redux

Darling Lili / Julie Andrews as Lili Smith/Schmidt

This is the costume Lili wears for her opening performance of "Whistling Away the Dark." The black dress is meant to blend with the backdrop, and the song opens with a tight spotlight on just her head and shoulders, making it look as if her head and the sparkly collar are floating in midair. Later, the spotlight pulls back to include the rest of her gown, picking out the silver designs around the cuffs and skirt as well. It's pretty magical, and the song is beautiful too.

[firstdivisiongirl]

Tuesday Confessions

Ace and Law are the two one piece boys my sister says I’m most like. Idk if it’s a good thing, buts a polar opposite combination.

My favorite underrated anime is Tiger and Bunny! It’s so good. It’s on Netflix!

I’m a big Kpop fan. My favorites are BTS, Stray Kids, and Blackpink.

My favorite season is fall. I hate weather that is too hot or too cold.

I like snow and rain because I actually sleep better when one of those two are happening.

My favorite food is sushi!

I can’t whistle.

The most embarrassing thing that ever happened to me when I was on a cruise. I was walking up open stairs. I lost my flip flop and hit a guy in the head. So beware of flying flip flops!!!

[calebs-hangout-corner]

I may not be having a good time physically but guess what. Animatic thoughts.

[ddjsocxcanonrambles]

Somehow I crave for some nap/sleepytime romantic f/os imagines with both Al and Brook (or sometimes sleepy headcanons LOL)

I’m a sucker for these since I do tend to take naps and thinking about it makes me want to snuggle my two silly guys.

Especially how they snore and I’ll melt if one of them snore whistles, or legit get knocked when they get lulled to sleep by a lullaby ( like rockabye baby *Blushes hard*)

Anyways have a great day and *Snores 😴*

[zhelin-thames]

Now pay interest - 10% per year

Masterpost

As the Bat-family processed what had just happened, Jason was already plotting.

“So,” Jason began, a wicked grin spreading across his face, “does this mean we have a ghost King in the family now? Because I’ve got so many questions.”

“Focus, Todd,” Damian snapped, though his own curiosity was evident in his furrowed brow. “That... entity was clearly powerful. Father, why did you not inform us of this connection sooner?”

Bruce didn’t even glance up from his computer. “It was irrelevant.”

“Irrelevant?” Dick exclaimed, gesturing wildly. “A glowing ghost guy just popped out of a portal in our cave to collect a debt, and you think it’s irrelevant?”

Tim, typing furiously, pulled up the mission logs from Bruce’s early years. “Okay, I think I found the mission in Prague where this all went down. It says here... wait. Danny wasn’t just some guy you ran into. You trained with him in the League of Assassins?”

Steph leaned over Tim’s shoulder to read. “Wait, what?! He’s an assassin ghost King?”

Jason let out a low whistle. “This just gets better and better.”

Duke raised his hand, hesitant. “Uh, just a thought… if he’s the Ghost King, doesn’t that mean he has control over, like, all ghosts? Including... uh, Lazarus Pits?”

Everyone froze. Slowly, they all turned to Bruce, whose expression darkened slightly.

“Yes,” Bruce admitted reluctantly.

“Holy crap,” Jason said, leaning back with a stunned look. “He’s the reason the Pits freaked me out after I came back, isn’t he? I thought it was just the resurrection thing, but you knew he was tied to them!”

Bruce’s silence was answer enough.

“I want to meet him,” Cass signed firmly.

“Seconded,” Duke added. “He seems cool.”

“No,” Bruce said, finally standing and cutting through the rising chatter. His tone was firm, brooking no argument. “Danny is not someone you want to get involved with.”

But before Bruce could elaborate, the room was bathed in green light again.

Danny reappeared, now sitting cross-legged in mid-air, holding what looked like a spectral clipboard. “Forgot one thing,” he announced casually.

Bruce’s glare could have burned through steel. “What now?”

Danny smirked. “I want interest. Fifteen years is a long time to wait for sixteen bucks. So let’s say... ten percent per year?”

Jason cackled as the rest of the family broke out into laughter. Even Damian couldn’t entirely suppress a smirk.

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose again. “I’m not paying you interest.”

Danny shrugged, grinning. “Guess I’ll have to stick around until you do. Hope you’ve got extra space, because I’m moving in.”

The Batcave erupted into chaos. Jason and Steph cheered, Tim frantically calculated how much Bruce technically owed, and Bruce’s patience reached its breaking point.

“Fine,” Bruce growled. “But you’re staying in the guest room.”

Danny floated down, looking entirely too smug. “Deal. Now, who’s up for pizza? I’m starving.”

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Rest is the Mission

Pairing: Task Force 141 x reader

Warnings: Fluff, Sick Reader

Authors Note: Hope you enjoy, I wrote this because I’m sick right now and feel like crap sooooooo enjoy :) I don’t know if I would label it a Poly fic go it’s gonna be with the boys

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

You’d felt it creeping up on you for days—a scratchy throat, a dull ache behind your eyes, and a fatigue that weighed heavier each morning. But you brushed it off. A cold wasn’t going to stop you. Not when your team needed you.

It wasn’t until today’s training session that the sickness became impossible to ignore. Each step felt like trudging through quicksand, and your vision blurred as sweat beaded on your forehead. You pushed forward, determined not to falter, until your foot caught on uneven ground and you stumbled.

A strong hand caught your arm. You blinked up to see Price, his piercing gaze scanning your flushed face.

“Right, that’s enough,” he said firmly. “Out with it. What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” you croaked, your voice betraying you. “Just a little tired.”

Price’s expression darkened. “Don’t lie to me, love. You’re burning up.” He pressed the back of his hand to your forehead and let out a low whistle. “Bloody hell, you’ve got a fever. Why the hell didn’t you say anything?”

“I can handle it,” you protested weakly.

“Handle it?” Soap’s voice cut in as he approached, eyebrows raised. “You look like you’ve been hit by a truck, lass. You’re handling nothing but bedrest from now on.”

Before you could argue, Ghost appeared silently at your side. His gloved hand replaced Price’s on your forehead. He clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“You’re a liability to yourself like this,” he said bluntly. “Get to bed before you collapse. I’m not dragging your sorry arse off the floor.”

“I’m fine,” you insisted, though even to your own ears, the words sounded pathetic.

“Enough.” Price’s tone brooked no argument. “Soap, take her to her quarters. Gaz, get some water and medicine. Ghost, you’re with me—we’ll cover her workload for the day.”

Before you knew it, Soap was steering you back to your room, his arm a steadying presence. “You’re lucky we like you, hen,” he teased, though his eyes were soft with concern. “Otherwise, I’d leave you to learn your lesson the hard way.”

By the time you were tucked into bed, a wave of exhaustion washed over you, making it impossible to argue further.

---

The next few hours were a blur of fever dreams and muffled voices. Each time you stirred, one of them was there.

Price sat by your bedside, a warm mug of tea in his hands. “Drink,” he ordered gently, his tone softer than you’d ever heard. He waited patiently, his steady presence grounding you as you sipped.

Soap was a constant whirlwind of energy, refusing to let the atmosphere grow too heavy. “Y’know, I once caught a cold on a mission in Siberia,” he said, perched on the edge of your bed. “Nearly froze my arse off. Thought I’d lose my nose to frostbite.” His exaggerated tales pulled weak chuckles from you, and he grinned, satisfied.

Ghost was quieter, but no less attentive. He lingered in the corner of your room, his masked face unreadable, but his actions spoke volumes. He adjusted your blankets when you tossed them off, refilled your water without being asked, and made sure the room stayed cool to help bring down your fever. Once, you woke to find him sitting on the floor beside your bed, his hand resting lightly on your arm. The touch was brief, but it sent a wave of comfort through you.

And then there was Gaz, the self-proclaimed team medic for the day. He bustled in and out, armed with medicine and a determined expression. “Take these,” he instructed, handing you a handful of pills. When you hesitated, his brow furrowed. “Don’t make me pin you down, because I will.” His fierce protectiveness made you smile, and you took the medicine without further protest.

---

You’d hoped the worst was over, but as you sat up to sip the tea Price offered, a sudden wave of dizziness washed over you. The room spun, and nausea coiled tight in your stomach. You barely managed to set the mug down before leaning over the side of the bed.

“Easy, easy,” Price said quickly, his large hand resting on your back. He steadied you as you breathed heavily, fighting against the rising bile in your throat.

“Soap, get a bucket!” Price barked, his commanding tone snapping Soap out of his half-asleep state.

“On it!” Soap scrambled to his feet and darted out of the room, returning moments later with a small bin. He handed it off to Price, who placed it in your lap just in time for you to heave into it.

“Shh, you’re alright,” Price murmured, rubbing slow circles on your back. “Let it out, love. You’ll feel better soon.”

The nausea subsided after a few minutes, leaving you trembling and exhausted. Price set the bin aside, careful not to spill it, and handed you a damp cloth to wipe your mouth.

“Sorry,” you croaked, your voice barely audible.

“None of that,” Price replied firmly. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for. We’re here for you.”

Soap crouched beside the bed, his brows drawn in concern. “Poor thing. Looks like it’s hitting you harder than we thought.” He reached for your hand, giving it a light squeeze. “Don’t worry—we’ll get you through this.”

Ghost silently pressed a cold compress to your forehead, his gloved hand steady. The coolness was a relief, but the pounding behind your eyes continued, relentless and sharp.

“Headache?” Gaz asked, his voice soft.

“Bad,” you whispered.

“Alright. Painkillers it is,” he said, heading for the door.

When he returned, he coaxed you into taking the pills with a few sips of water. “Good. Now close your eyes and rest,” he instructed.

---

The pounding in your head eased slightly as the day wore on, and the nausea subsided into a dull ache. Each time you woke, one of them was there—Price’s steady voice soothing you, Soap’s jokes lightening the mood, Ghost’s silent care easing the worst moments, and Gaz’s gentle persistence ensuring you stayed hydrated and medicated.

When you finally woke the next morning, the sunlight no longer felt harsh, and your stomach was calm. You looked around to see all four of them still there—Price in a chair by the door, Soap curled up on the floor, Ghost leaning against the wall, and Gaz sprawled on the edge of your bed.

A soft smile tugged at your lips as you whispered, “Thanks, guys.”

Price stirred, his sharp eyes meeting yours. “Feeling better?”

“Much,” you admitted.

“Good,” he said, standing and stretching. “But don’t think for a second you’re jumping back into work. You’re on bedrest until we say otherwise.”

Soap cracked an eye open and grinned. “Aye, we’ll pamper you whether you like it or not.”

“Get used to it,” Gaz added, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Ghost didn’t say anything, but his gloved hand briefly brushed your shoulder as he passed, a silent promise that they’d always have your back.

For once, you didn’t feel guilty about accepting their care. You knew they wouldn’t have it any other way.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

[insidekatmind]

Party~ Blaise Zabini ~ Blaise Zabini

Wearning: +18, smut

Request: yes!

The Slytherin common room was buzzing with activity. The party seemed to go on forever, with glasses of Butterbeer and magical spirits being passed around. Green lights danced on the walls, and eighties rock music blared in the corners of the room. You, with a goofy grin plastered across your face, were decidedly tipsy.

Beside you, Blaise Zabini was watching the scene with his usual distant gaze. He was sober, as always. He never drank at these parties. He was just there to make sure you didn't get into any trouble.

Suddenly, someone shouted,

"Spin the bottle!"

A group gathered in a circle, sitting on the black and green carpet of the room. You, your eyes sparkling with alcohol, dragged Blaise by the sleeve.

"Come on! Let's play!"

"Y/n, no," he snapped, trying to hold you back.

But you weren't listening. You broke free of his grip and threw yourself into the circle, laughing. A blonde girl picked up an empty bottle and spun it quickly. The bottle stopped in front of Theodore Nott, who leaned down to kiss a fifth-grader.

The bottle spun again. And again.

When it was your turn, the bottle stopped on Draco Malfoy. The room erupted in laughter and whistles.

"Go, Y/n!" someone shouted.

"Come on, don't be shy!"

You stood up unsteadily, but before you could take a step toward Draco, you felt an arm around your waist. Blaise grabbed you in a firm grip and pulled you back.

"Y/n, stop," he whispered in your ear in a tone that brooked no argument.

You struggled to free yourself, frustrated.

"Come on, Blaise! It's just a game!"

"Not for you."

With a firmness you were not used to, Blaise picked you up, ignoring your groans and the curious looks of the others.

"I can't believe you're ruining my fun," you muttered as he dragged you out of the common room.

"I'm saving you from yourself," Blaise replied.

Just as you walked out the front door, "Should I Stay or Should I Go?" by The Clash began to play on the speakers. The guitar riff made your eyes light up and you began to sing at the top of your lungs.

"Should I stay or should I go now?" you hummed, stumbling down the dark corridor of the dungeons. Blaise sighed in exasperation, but there was a faint smile on his lips.

"If you keep singing like that, I'll put a Silent Charm on you," he threatened.

"You don't dare!" you exclaimed, laughing.

When you reached the door to your dorm, Blaise stopped. He placed you in front of him and looked you in the eyes.

"Y/n, you're a terrible drinker."

“But you still love me,” you replied, smiling softly.

Blaise shook his head.“Yes, unfortunately.”

As you opened the door, you turned to him.

“Are you staying with me?” you asked, sounding almost pleading.

Blaise hesitated, but then stepped into the room, closing the door behind him.

“Just to make sure you don’t do anything stupid again.”

As you lay down on the bed, you hummed a bit more of the song.

“If I go, there will be trouble…”

Blaise sat down in a chair next to you, smiling to himself.“You really are a hopeless case, Y/n.”

“I know,” you muttered, closing your eyes. “But you’re staying anyway.”

You look up at him with your eyes darkening with longing. "have you always been this sexy?" you mutter looking up at him.

his smile turned into a smirk as his eyes darkened as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. "Oh, always..."

you look up at him with longing and kiss him.Blaise wrapped his arms around your waist as he returned the kiss, pulling you closer to him. He quickly lifted you up to straddle him as his tongue battled with yours for dominance in the kiss.

You moan into the kiss and grind against him.Blaise deepened the kiss as he smiled, his hands traveling lower. Pulling back, he pressed small kisses to your neck, softly nibbling on a spot on his neck that he knew you loved.

"Blaise" you moan closing your eyes in pleasure as you grinded closer but he stilled your movements holding you still.

He smiled, biting your sweet spot a little harder before licking and sucking the red mark he made "Do you like it, love...?"

You moan and nod "yes so much" and try to grind against him again and Blaise smirks a little and you moan.

Blaise smiled, marking your neck as he slowly slid his hand up your thigh, squeezing it. "I know you do, mi amor..."

You continue to moan and cling to him even more. Blaise chuckles against your neck, before biting a little harder as he moves to your collarbone, marking you more and more.

"Blaise is so beautiful" you whisper dreamily. He smiled at that, sucking a deep mark on your collarbone, his hands sliding under your shirt "You're so adorable, my love..."

You whimper in pleasure at the nickname he gave you. Blaise smiled at you, slowly lifting your shirt and throwing it on the floor "I know you like that nickname..."

You gasp and grab his shirt. "Blaise I need you."

He smiled, loving the effect he had on you. He raised his hips a little to grind a little on your pussy making you moan. "Yes? Do you need me, hm..?"

"Yes please Blaise" you murmur desperately seeking more friction.

"Mhmm... And what do you need it for, love...?" He hums, grinding his erection against you.

You whimper and grind yourself more against him. "you know..." you murmur whining. Blaise chuckled, his grip on your waist tightening slightly "But I want to hear you say it, love. Tell me what you want me to do..."

You whimper and lean into him more "please Blaise I need you to fuck me" you whisper desperately as you grind against his hardness and he grunts.

He chuckled against your neck, gently biting the sensitive part "Mhmm... you're so needy, aren't you, love...?"

You moan and nod. "yes please Blaise, I beg you" you whisper desperate for him to do something.

Blaise smiles, his hand moving up your thigh again "You want it that bad, hm..?"

You nod biting your lip. "please" you whisper looking up at him.

He chuckles softly, his grip on your hips tightening "You're so desperate for me, love... you don't even make it a challenge..."

You whimper and take his face kissing him. Blaise smiles, pulling you closer as he kisses you back, one of his hands cupping your chin as he pulls your head back. He moves his kisses from your mouth to your neck, starting to leave more small marks on your flesh.

You moan and clutch at his shirt again. He pulled away from your neck, grabbing the hem of his shirt with his other free hand and tossing his shirt to the floor. “Mhmm… I like it when you hold me like this, love…” you whispered seductively.

You bit your lip at the sight of him shirtless. Blaise chuckled, his smirk turning into a smile at the action. He grabbed your chin again, bringing your eyes back to his. “Do you like what you see, my love..?”

he smiled as you began to touch his body, pulling you a little closer to him. “Yes? Do you want to feel me, love..?”

You look at him with desire and lust. "yes please"

Blaise chuckled, his grip on your hips tightening. He moved your body against his, letting you feel him completely “Mhmm… come on then, love… touch me as much as you want…”

You moan and continue to caress his body. He moans, your touch is like fire on his skin. He smiles, his grip on your hips tightening “Oh, I love the effect I have on you, my Love…”

You moan even louder and resume grinding against him. Blaise gasps and grips your hips even harder at the movement “Mhmm… you’re so needy… so desperate for me…”

He smiled, throwing the rest of your clothes on the floor as he leaned back against the pillows. His eyes were darkened and filled with lust as he looked at you.

He started kissing you out of pure passion as he rubbed his erection near your entrance before thrusting in with a quick thrust making you both moan.

Blaise moaned, pulling you down onto his knees and grabbing your hips as he moved you against him. "Mm-shit.." he whispered, lifting his hips against you.

You moaned and started bouncing on his cock. "You're so big." You muttered, moaning as Blaise slapped your ass and then moaned against your neck, his grip on your hips tightening as he helped you move towards him. "Oh, shit, you're so tight."

You moaned, continuing to bounce on him. "You're squeezing my cock." Blaise muttered, increasing his thrusts and you continued to moan.

He moaned, pulling you closer to him, biting your sweet spot in your neck. "Mm-shit... just like that, love..."

You moaned and bounced even more, your pussy was squeezing his cock tightly. "I'm so close" you whisper moaning.

Blaise moans against your neck, his grip on your hips tightening as he increases his thrusts. “M-me too, my love… just a little more…”

You moan nodding and grinding and bouncing more.He pants, his grip getting so much tighter that it would leave a bruise mark on your hips “M-my god…”

He moves the hand that was holding your chin to your waist, trying to pull you further down towards him “J-just a little more, love…”

You moan and bounce more. “It's so big Blaise, I can't take it anymore” you moan in pleasure. Blaise grabs your hips and starts fucking you fast and you moan.

He pulls you into a passionate kiss that was a clash of tongues. Blaise moans as he moved your body against his even rougher. “I-I love… I'm going to…” he whispers through the kisses.

You moan into the kiss and nibble his lip and then he comes and he follows you by cumming inside you making you both moan.

You collapse on his body humming satisfied. Blaise nibbles your neck “M-my god… you drive me crazy, my love” he whispers.

You hug him softly trying to catch your breath. He wraps his arms around you, making you lie on his chest, one hand in your hair as his chest rises and falls “That was… incredible…”. You nodded softly hearing those words.

Blaise hums in agreement, one hand caressing your back while the other is still in your hair “You are so beautiful…”. You blush hearing those words.

He chuckles, smiling softly as he kisses you back, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer to his chest. He was holding you so tight to him, as if he was afraid to let you go “You feel so good against my chest, love…”

You smile softly and cuddle closer to him. “Stay with me all night Blaise” you whisper softly.

Blaise chuckles, wrapping his arms around you tighter “Of course, my Love. I’m not going anywhere.”

[604to647]

What Was I Made For?

3.1K / Frankenstein AU Tim Rockford x fem!reader

Summary: Left on his own, Tim learns a new way to live.

Warnings: None! Age gap cause Tim’s like hundreds of years old 🤷🏻‍♀️😂 Semi-sentient woodland creatures that meddle, I guess 🤭

A/N: Inspired by @almostfoxglove’s beautiful AU moodboard below - if you haven't already, check out that post and the tags, along with all her other AU moodboards! Thank you so much for sharing them with us 🥹🥰

Title by Billie Eilish / Dividers by @saradika-graphics as always 🥰

For a very long time, Tim did not go outside during the daytime.

Father said not to.

And even though Father has been gone for many years, Tim still heeded his words.  His being the only voice Tim had ever heard.

He still doesn’t know why Father left.  He’s even less sure of why he never returned.

Merge Mansion remains dark, even during the day.  Its halls empty, its candelabras unlit.  If anyone was to pass through the ivy choked iron gates and listen at its door, and no one ever did, they would hear only the skittering of mice and the occasional heavy footstep, so slow and deliberate it could be mistaken for the heartbeat of a slowly dying house.

Only ever at night, Tim goes out to the woods behind the now dusty and crumbling mansion.  Those same woods where Father would have him lift, throw, break - repeatedly.  And Father would write furiously in his notebooks.  Tim thinks maybe that’s what he was made for.

For more years than can be counted, enough so that he passes into legend, Tim continues to do what he knows.  He uproots trees and plants and heaves them over knolls and into streams.  He rolls boulders and smashes rocks.  He haunts the forest alone until the dawn threatens to pierce through the thick overhang of the old growth trees; hiding within the moss-covered stone walls of the only home he’s ever known until night brings cover once again.

Until one night after so many nights, he just… doesn’t.  Instead of his nightly exertion to prove something to the darkness, Tim just sits and bathes in the pureness of the moonlight.  He breathes in the earthy musk of the forest’s damp soil and the sweet scent of pine mixed with bark sap.  Instead of his own laboured breathing, Tim finally hears the babbling of the brooks, the hooting of the owls, and soft breeze whistling between the low berry bushes and the high tree tops.  Tim doesn’t know if he was made to be at peace, but he finds that he can do it all the same.

He teaches himself to read.  At first using words Father would say and the signs he would point to in the room Tim lived in: Lock.  Unlock.  Hot.  Cold.  On.  Off.  Danger.  Stop.

Then from books about nature that he finds in the library, remembering words that Father would use to describe their surroundings when in the woods that Tim now knows so well.

Tree.  Rock.  Hill.  Hole.

It takes a very, very long time.  But Tim has nothing but time.

He’s not even sure if he’s doing it right - he has no one to ask.  Not that he could even if there was.  He says the words in his head the way he thinks they sound, but with no voice, never out loud.  He wasn’t made for that.

It’s no matter.  Even if he isn’t sure he’s sounding them out properly, Tim thinks he’s assigned the words to the pictures in the books of animals and landscapes correctly.  There are other books, as well.  Ones with illustrations that are foreign to him and where the words denote meaning that he doesn’t think he will ever understand, but he learns them anyways:  Music.  Dance.  Laugh.  Feast.  Love.

In his woods, Tim no longer destroys: he clears, builds, tends.  Tim carves out paths that feel softer on the bottoms of his lumbering feet.  He removes dead branches from healthy trunks and uses them to sweep the forest floor.  He rolls away dead trees, some fell by age or disease, others by his own hand in the olden days when he thought that was what he was made for.

He still only does these things under the cover of night.  Father had said to be afraid of the village at the bottom of the looming hill upon which Merge Mansion perched.  He warned Tim that if he was discovered, the villagers would come and hurt them both.  Tim wishes that he had known the words or had the voice to tell Father that he would have protected him.  That perhaps it was the villagers who should have been afraid of him. Father’s notebooks say that he was built to be fierce. 

The bunnies in the woods do not seem to think so.  Nor the foxes, or the badgers, or the mice.  The deer do not find Tim to be fearsome, and the birds readily to flock to him.

He supposes it’s because he starts to help them build their nests; his long legs easily carry him to the farthest corners of the woods where the best nesting materials can be gathered.  He volunteers his big, pawlike hands to dig their burrows and holes.  His strength he uses to drag logs and branches to where whole furry families reside, breaking the thick wood into smaller pieces to help them expand and fortify their homes for their growing broods and the incoming weather.  He’s tall enough to lift baby birds back into their nests when they fall out before they’re ready to fly.  He forages and shares all his bounty, himself having no need for sustenance. 

Tim would not mind if this is what he was made for.

The years continue to pass.  The village at the bottom of the hill gets less busy, smaller, and is eventually gone.  Tim only knows because he witnesses the number of tiny square windows illuminated by bright candles during the night, dwindle until there is only darkness.

From the now dilapidated walls of Merge Mansion, Tim watches as what remains of the village rots and is reclaimed by the Earth.  It looks less frightening to him the way it stands now, wild and lush - much more like his beloved forest where he’s only ever known friendly creatures.

It’s the bunnies who convince him to come out in the daytime. 

It had been an especially abundant year for the rabbits, with baby bunnies almost overrunning the forest floor.  The mamas plead with Tim using their big brown eyes to help round up their little ones and keep them safe, making sure none of them strayed too far from the safety of the woods.

Little bunnies are hard to see in the dark.

The first time Tim steps outside during the day, he’s so blinded by the sky’s brightness that he thinks perhaps his eyes were not made for sunlight.  His forest is so green in the daytime.  A richness of browns with the occasional pop of red, blue, even lavender.  In the winters, the snow is so white during the day it appears almost clear.  Once the snow has melted, the streams splash with fish that jump during the day – something that never happens at night.  The sun’s beams warm Tim’s rough skin in a way the moon’s cold, comfortable ambiance never has.  The sounds of the forest are so much louder, cheerier in the day than they are at night – it strikes Tim as odd given it’s the same forest but he supposes he feels more alive during the day as well.

The deer are the ones that lead him out of the forest and to the front of the house.  The overgrown grass on the Merge Mansion hill begs to be grazed on, and with the village gone, Tim and the deer while away many days unseen and unbothered amongst the soft green blades – looking out to a splendid view of rolling plains and sprawling forests stretching all the way to the horizon.  He never strays far from the house - still heeding Father’s words of caution even though the dangers he warned against look to be long gone.

Tim doesn’t even know that another village has sprung up somewhere on the other side of a low mountain that he considers to be more than a fair distance away until you.  The first time he sees you, you’re but a little girl and you come with your own father to the cemetery that rests at the bottom of his hill, where it once bordered the old village.  The same cemetery from which Father gathered the parts that make up Tim as he is, if Father’s notebooks are to be believed.  The deer scamper away before you or your father see them, but Tim stays and hides, watches.

He hears your father tell you that these graves belong to your ancestors who once lived in the old village that’s now gone and that even though you live on the other side of the mountain, you should still pay your respects.  Tim listens to your cheery chatter and the hum of your father’s merry tunes as the two of you clean the gravestones, pull the weeds, plant fresh gardens.

You and your father come every week and Tim begins to look forward to it.  He watches you grow into a beautiful woman and your father into an old man.  He listens to the musical lilt of your voice and the gentle teasing of your father as the two of you care for and nurture the plot of land at the base of the Merge Mansion Hill so that it grows vibrant and fragrant with flowers that he’s only ever seen in Father’s books.  He hears your father tell you stories he heard as a child about the house that Tim lives in – the legend of a mad scientist and a terrible monster.  Tim doesn’t know why, but he feels relief when you laugh at these stories and call them ridiculous.

When your father stops coming with you, Tim watches over you in his stead.  You continue to do your duty in the cemetery joyfully and your sweetness is like an invitation.  The bunnies and the foxes and the mice and the deer all come down to join you.  You laugh and share your food with them and they enjoy your company as much as you do theirs.  Music.  Dance.  Laugh.  Feast.  He thinks he finally understands.  When his furry friends turn their soulful eyes up to the house, Tim knows they’re looking to him to come down but he shakes his head no.  He’s not made for this.

He doesn’t know that you see him anyways.

You’ve known he was there since the days you would come to this cemetery with your father as a little girl.  Most times as just a shadow on the Merge Mansion grounds, but once or twice you had seen Tim’s handsome, haunted face in one of the cracked windows.

You don’t know who he is or what he is, but some how you know that you have to pretend that you’re unaware of his presence.  As if for some laughable reason, he finds you to be frightening.

So, you try to make yourself to be as nonintimidating as possible.  You wear soft flowing fabrics that lie prettily over your equally soft skin in pleasing colours that compliment the hue of your hair and the brightness of your eyes.  You keep your voice gentle and the sound of your notes harmonious when you sing or hum your favourite songs of love and fantasy.  When your father tells you the old stories of the Merge Mansion Monster, you make sure to loudly decry this characterization.  Your unseen friend is not a monster, and you want to make sure that he knows you know that.

Your woodland friends who proclaim to know him best seem to say, give him time.  So you do, waiting patiently for a sign.  For what?  You don’t know.  Just a sign for more.

It comes one summer day, many, many years after your weekly trips to the cemetery became solo trips.  For two weeks, you’ve been in a state of mild panic, unable to find the delicate gold chain necklace that your father gave you - his last gift to you before he passed.  A part of you fears that it may have come unclasped and dropped onto the path some time during your weekly trip to the Merge Mansion cemetery; your heart clenches – if that was the case, your treasured necklace is surely lost.

Your surprise when you find your necklace waiting for you on top of a gravestone next to a small tied bundle of lavender is palpable.  Your eyes threaten to overflow with tears as you look up the hill to the house and mouth, thank you.

You don’t know that you had actually lost your necklace next to this very gravestone and that one of your bluebird friends had carried it up to Tim in its beak.  Tim spends two weeks practicing making the small bouquet of lavender – his large and clumsy hands unused to the precise and delicate movements required.  He refers to the instructions in the book he found so many times he can see the diagrams in his sleep.  But he keeps trying until he gets it right – wanting to offer you something more than just your returned necklace as a token of his appreciation for all the work you do.  Holding the delicate chain in his oversized hand, he can’t stop looking at it glittering in the moonlight and admiring its intricate craftsmanship.�� It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.  Well, second.

The next week, Tim discovers a large and fragrant bouquet of the cemetery’s best and biggest blooms laid outside of his iron gates.

Three weeks later, on the same gravestone, you find those flowers dried and pressed, then laced together in a pretty flower crown.

You weave your own from new fresh flowers and leave it in place of the dried one you take home.  The following week, the crown you made is gone, and in its place, a large pile of fresh wild berries that must come from the forest behind the mansion.

The squirrels had objected, but Tim promised that the reduction of berries from their weekly hoard would be for a good cause.  You helped prove him right the following week when he returned from the hill with a jar of wild berry jam which he happily shared.

This continues for months.  Each week a small, thoughtful trinket exchanged - neither you or Tim having much to offer except your consideration and time.  The giddy anticipation and resulting awe a gift in itself.

The day you bring a blanket that took you six weeks to knit, you’re imbued with a bravery (the source of which is unknown even to you) that brings you all the way to Tim’s doorstep.  The heavy door opens when you push against it, but no one answers when you call out.

While Tim is in the woods assisting with the birth of a newborn deer, you’re wandering the dark, musty halls of Merge Mansion.  You find where you think Tim must sleep: in a room that looks like a lab - electrical wire equipment, gurneys, restraints and medical utensils long since pushed against the walls of the room and abandoned.

You read the notebooks left behind by the scientist and seethe on Tim’s behalf.  To call him a Creature!  To experiment on him and put him through trials of endurance and strength as if he was merely an instrument for violence!  You’re grateful that Tim’s creator must be long dead by now, else he might not be able to escape the vitriol you feel rising in your chest at the mistreatment Tim endured at his hand.

You leave the blanket and the mansion in a hurry.

When Tim comes back into the house, he knows immediately that you were there.  He smells you.  The sweet floral perfume from your garden and the sticky scent of fruit from your jams hangs in the air.  Nothing in this house or the forest smells quite so lovely.  You were here. 

With growing distress, he finds your thoughtful gift in the room where he sleeps and knows that you’ve read Father’s notebooks.  You know the truth of what he is now.  He’ll never see you again.

But you come back.

You leave him a letter and for three weeks, he reads it every day. 

It’s a letter that tells him about yourself and your family, and how you came to be his weekly visitor.  You tell him how you’ve always known he’s been there but you were afraid to scare him away so you never let on that you saw him.  You tell him that now that you’ve calmed down a bit, you’re not quite so angry at Father but you do think that he didn’t understand Tim’s true nature, or perhaps, you concede, he simply wasn’t gifted enough time to understand. 

You tell him what you think of his nature.  In your experience, men who are strong are rarely gentle and those who harness power are hardly ever giving.  But Tim is.  His hands, arms and muscles may be sewn together from much lesser men, but he, Tim, wields his strength to protect and look after others.  His heart may not be able to pull down trees or break rock, but it’s tender and pure – and where his true power lies.

You write that even though you’ve never met him face to face, you only ever feel safe and cared for knowing he’s around.  And you hope that even if he never forgives you for trespassing in his home and going through his personal belongings without his permission, he will take your words to heart.

Every week you come back to the doors of Merge Mansion bearing a small gift and a big apology, but Tim is nowhere to be found.  You’re starting to fear that you’ve crossed an unforgiveable boundary and ruined your indescribable but cherished connection, when the most wonderous sight awaits you as you near the top of the hill nearly a month after you left your letter.

Tim. 

Impossibly large and broad, a hulk of a man is sitting on the front steps waiting for you.  His face is hard, lined from time and worry, but his eyes are soft and vulnerable.  You see some trace of old scars along his forehead and neck, and down the worn skin that stretches over the corded muscles of his forearms.  His clothes are outdated and entirely the wrong size, but somehow it works on him.  He looks formidable.  Wild, yet tame.  Handsome.

You run to him, beaming.  Tim stands when you come to a stop in front of him, towering over you as he holds out a bouquet of wildflowers picked from the forest lands behind his home that he tends to so carefully.

When you reach out to accept, your small fingers brush his larger calloused ones, and the jolt of electricity that passes between the two of you feels like pure joy.  And although Tim can only offer a quiet grunt, unable to say the words that he wishes he could sing with his whole chest, you understand him perfectly.  Your incandescent smile and hopeful expression reassure him that you too, recognize the simple, unspoken truth: Tim was made for you.

🎶Obligatory Billie Eilish, What Was I Made For lyrics🎶:

'Cause I, 'cause I I don't know how to feel But I wanna try I don't know how to feel But someday I might Someday I might

Think I forgot how to be happy Something I'm not, but something I can be Something I wait for Something I'm made for Something I'm made for

[chibinasuu]

My Jolly Sailor Bold | Straw Hats x Reader

★ requested by @supernatural-hunter1 (see here)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Who love a jolly sailor that ploughs the raging sea” 

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

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

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

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

“My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing–”

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

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

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

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

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

“There is nothing can console me

But my Jolly Sailor Bold.”

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

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

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

↳ masterlist

[avdxl]

"May I See Your...?" !SMUT-18+! ZORO X FEMALE!READER (FT BROOK)

A/N: Don't ask

CW: Voyeurism, Overstimulation(?), Let me know if I missed anything

Y/N stood on the bow of the ship, her eyes scanning the vast sea. The sun had just begun to kiss the horizon, painting the sky in a warm embrace of orange and pink. Her heart was filled with the sweet ache of melancholy, as it often did when she watched the day fade into night. It was in these moments, with the salty breeze playing with her hair and the gentle rocking of the ship beneath her feet, that she felt truly alive.

"Hey, Y/N," a familiar voice called out, snapping her out of her tranquil solitude. She turned to see Brook, the perverted skeleton musician of the Straw Hat Pirates, sauntering towards her, his ribcage bobbing up and down with each step. He had a mischievous twinkle in his eye socket, and she knew what was coming.

"Brook," she sighed, a hint of amusement playing on her lips. "What do you want now?"

"Oh, come on," Brook cackled, his skull tipping back as he leaned against the railing. "You know what I want. Just one little peek." 

It was his favorite pastime, asking to see her panties. Y/N rolled her eyes. While normally, she'd shoo him away with a playful laugh, tonight was different. Tonight, she had decided to indulge him. The thought made her heart race, a strange mix of excitement and apprehension coursing through her veins. Why not give him what he'd been begging for? Maybe it would shut him up for good, or at least for a little while.

"Alright," she said, her voice surprisingly steady. "But only if everyone else is around."

Brook' grin widened. "You know how to make a guy's day, don't ya?"

As they made their way back to the sunny deck, she felt a thrill of anticipation. The crew was gathered there, their laughter and chatter a comforting backdrop to the impending event. The moment she stepped into view, the conversations died down, and all eyes (sans Chopper) turned to her. She could feel the heat of their gazes, and she took a deep breath, bracing herself.

"What's going on?" Luffy, the captain, asked, his curiosity piqued as he stretched his elastic neck to see over the crowd.

"Brook has once again requested," she announced, her voice carrying over the murmurs. "To see my panties."

A collective gasp echoed through the air, followed by a roar of laughter. Even Zoro, the stoic swordsman, cracked a smile, while Sanji's eyes widened with a mix of shock and something else. Y/N felt a blush spread across her cheeks, but she didn't look away. She knew what she was about to do was bold, but she had made her decision.

"Again, Brook?" Luffy asked, his straw hat tipping backward with his skeptical look.

"You bet, Cap'n!" Brook chuckled. "Been waiting for this moment for ages!"

The deck grew quiet again, the anticipation palpable. Y/N took a step forward, her hand moving to the hem of her skirt. The fabric whispered against her legs as she began to lift it, the sound of the ocean the only other noise in the stillness.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she revealed a pair of lacy black panties. She felt a strange mix of vulnerability and power, knowing that every pair of eyes was on her. The crew's reactions varied from shock to amusement, but she focused on Brook, whose grin had turned into a gaping maw.

"There you go," she said, her voice steady despite the racing of her heart.

Brook's eye sockets widened as he stared, his excitement evident. He nodded fervently, unable to speak. The crew erupted into laughter and applause, the tension dissipating into the evening air. Sanji whistled lowly, while Zoro's smile grew, and even Nami clapped her hands together in approval.

Y/N felt a sense of relief wash over her as she dropped her skirt and turned to face the sea once more. The cool breeze against her bare thighs was exhilarating. She had done it. She had stood up to Brook' relentless teasing and turned the tables in the most unexpected way.

"Alright, Brook," she said, a smirk playing on her lips as she turned to face the skeleton. "You've seen what you've been dying to see for so long. Now, it's my turn."

Brook's grin faltered for a brief moment before it returned, his anticipation clear. "What do you mean?"

"You owe me," she said, her voice low and seductive. "Every time you've asked for a peek, you've promised to do something for me in return. And I've decided what I want."

With a dramatic flair, Y/N turned on her heel and strode towards the cabin, her hips swaying with each step. Brook's excitement was palpable as he followed, his bones clattering with each eager stride. The crew watched them go, their expressions a mix of confusion and intrigue.

Once in the dimly lit room, Y/N gestured to the chair by her bed. "Sit," she ordered, a mischievous glint in her eye. Brook obeyed, his anticipation practically vibrating off of him.

Y/N closed the door with a soft click and turned to face him, her back to the bed. She began to unbutton her shirt, revealing her matching lacy black bra. The room was silent except for the sound of fabric sliding against skin and the gentle creak of the ship beneath them. She took a deep breath and let the shirt fall to the floor, her chest heaving with the weight of the moment.

"Now," she began, her voice a siren's song in the quiet space. "You have to watch."

With that, she turned around and sat on the edge of the bed, her legs parted just enough to give him a teasing view. Her hand slid down her stomach and under her skirt, disappearing into the fabric. Brook's eyes widened even further, his mouth hanging open as he watched, utterly transfixed.

Her fingertips found their way to her wetness, and she began to explore herself with slow, deliberate strokes. The sight too much for Brook to handle, his bones rattling with excitement. He dreamed of this moment, but nothing could have prepared him for the reality of it.

The sound of the ocean outside was a gentle lullaby to the rhythm of her movements. The air grew thick with tension as she grew more and more aroused, her breaths coming in shallow gasps. Her eyes never left Brook's sockets as she touched herself, watching his reaction with a sense of power that was intoxicating.

"You like this?" she taunted, her voice a sweet caress. "This is what you've been begging to see for so long."

Brook could only nod, his eyes never leaving her. The room was filled with the scent of her arousal, and the sight of her touching herself was more erotic than he could have ever imagined. He was at her mercy, and she reveled in it.

With a wicked smile, Y/N leaned back onto the bed, her hand still moving rhythmically between her legs. "Keep watching," she murmured, her voice a sultry invitation. "And remember, this is my show."

The skeleton could do nothing but nod, his mind racing with thoughts of what was to come. The night had just begun, and Y/N had so much more in store for him. She had set the stage for a performance that would leave him begging for more, and she had every intention of delivering.

Her hand continued to work its magic, her other hand reaching up to unclasp her bra. It fell away, revealing her breasts to the cool air. Brook felt a shiver run down his spine, despite the lack of flesh to react to the chill. His eyes were glued to her chest, watching as she teased her hardened nipples with her fingertips.

Y/N leaned back further, her legs now fully apart, giving Brook a clear view of her panties, damp with desire. She slid her hand down further, her middle finger slipping beneath the lace to trace her swollen folds. A soft moan escaped her lips, and Brook felt his own excitement building.

Her movements grew more urgent, her breaths quickening. The sound of the ocean outside was now a crescendo to the symphony of her pleasure. The sight of her, so confident and in control, was unlike anything he had ever seen. He was captivated by the beauty of the moment, his mind racing with thoughts of what it would be like to feel her skin, to taste her, to be a part of this intimate act.

But he was just a spectator, a ghostly voyeur in the grand scheme of things. His bones could never feel the warmth of her touch, never experience the softness of her flesh. And yet, here he was, the center of her attention, the focus of her lustful gaze. It was a power play, and he was more than happy to lose.

Her eyes fluttered shut, her head tilting back, as she reached the peak of her pleasure. Her body tensed, and she let out a cry that was music to his nonexistent ears. The sight of her coming was more than he could handle, and his excitement grew to an unbearable level. He clenched his fists, willing himself to hold on, to keep watching, to savor every second of this rare and precious moment.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, she opened her eyes and looked directly at him. "Now," she said, her voice a command. "You want my panties, right?"

Brook nodded, unable to form words.

"Then you'll have to earn them," she continued, her voice dripping with seductive challenge. "Keep my legs open while Zoro has his way with me."

The skeleton's jaw dropped. He had never seen this side of Y/N before, so brazen and demanding. Yet, he found himself eager to obey, to be a part of this intimate and taboo exchange. He stumbled over to the bed, his legs feeling like jelly, and positioned himself at her side, his bony hands gently gripping her thighs.

The door to the cabin opened, and Zoro stepped in, his eyes immediately finding hers. The swordsman was a picture of calm and confidence, his gaze burning with desire. He knew what was about to happen, and he was more than ready.

He climbed onto the bed, his weight pressing her into the mattress as he positioned himself between her legs. Brook held her open, his grip firm as he watched with rapt attention. Y/N's breath hitched as Zoro's hand slid up her thigh, his thumb grazing the edge of her panties.

The sound of the fabric being pushed aside was like a gunshot in the quiet cabin. Her heart pounded in her chest as she felt his warmth against her. Zoro's tongue, as sharp as his swords, began to dance across her folds, tracing the contours of her sex with a hunger that had been simmering for far too long. He licked and probed, his movements as precise as a maestro conducting an orchestra. Each flick and swirl sent shivers of pleasure through her body, her eyes rolling back in her head as she moaned his name. Her hips rocked involuntarily, meeting his mouth with a desperation that was both primal and exhilarating.

The smell of the sea mingled with the sweet scent of her arousal, filling the cabin with a heady aroma that intoxicated the men. Brook watched, his bones creaking with the effort of containing his excitement, as Zoro feasted upon her. The swordsman's mouth moved with a ferocity that was unmatched on the battlefield, his tongue plundering her depths with a skill that had her writhing and begging for more. Her breasts bounced with each movement, her nipples hard and erect, begging for attention.

Her moans grew louder, her breaths more ragged, as Zoro's mouth worked its magic. Her legs trembled in Brook' grip, her body a symphony of pleasure and need. The musician's skeletal fingers tightened around her knees, his eyes never leaving the intimate dance unfolding before him. His own desire grew, his bones seemingly straining against the fabric of his pants.

Y/N's hands found Zoro's hair, her fingers tangling in the strands as she pulled him closer, urging him to delve deeper. His teeth grazed her clit, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through her core. She could feel the beginnings of an orgasm building, the storm clouds of ecstasy gathering on the horizon of her consciousness.

The tension in the cabin was as thick as the fog that sometimes enveloped the ship. The three of them were lost in their own world, a world of unbridled lust and passion. The creaks of the ship's timbers seemed to keep tempo with the rhythm of their breathing, the only sound in the cabin that didn't belong to their carnality.

Y/N's body tightened, her toes curling as she reached the precipice of climax. Zoro's tongue swirled around her clit, his mouth sucking and nibbling, pushing her closer to the edge. Her back arched. The pressure grew, her body a taut bowstring ready to be released.

And then it happened. The dam burst, and she came with a cry that echoed through the cabin, the force of her orgasm rocking her body. Zoro drank from her like a man dying of thirst, his mouth never leaving her sex as she rode out her pleasure. Brook, alight with excitement, watched the show, his bony hands still holding her wide open for his viewing pleasure.

The moment was intense, as Brook' skeletal hands firmly held Y/N's legs apart, keeping her exposed to the pirate swordsman's ravenous mouth. His grip was surprisingly strong, his excitement palpable as he stared at the slick, pink flesh before him. Each quiver of her thighs and each gasp that escaped her lips only fueled his own desire. He could feel the phantom ghost of his cock straining against the fabric of his pants, begging for release, but he knew his role in this dance of debauchery. He was the voyeur, the one who held the key to this intimate tableau.

Zoro, his eyes locked on Brook' skull, took a moment to appreciate the view before diving back in. His tongue lapped at her swollen folds, savoring the taste of her pleasure. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. He knew that she was once again close, feeling the tremors of her impending climax shivering through her legs. His mouth moved faster, more insistent, as he sought to push her over the edge once more.

The room grew hotter, the scent of sex permeating the air like the sticky heat of a tropical night. Y/N's moans grew more fervent, her nails digging into Zoro's scalp as he worked her clit. She could feel her orgasm building once again, the pressure in her belly growing to an unbearable crescendo. Her eyes squeezed shut, her body tensing as she held on for just a little longer.

And then, she shattered. Her pussy clenched around his tongue, her juices flooding his mouth as she cried out. The sound was a symphony of passion, music to the ears of the skeletal musician who held her open, his eyes glued to the sight of her release. He could feel the vibrations of her ecstasy through her legs, his own need growing with every tremble.

The sight of Y/N's unbridled pleasure was almost too much for Brook to handle. His hands, though bony, felt alive with the pulse of his desire. He watched as Zoro's mouth moved from her clit to her slit, lapping up every drop of her essence. The pirate's cheeks were flushed, his breathing heavy, as he reveled in her taste.

With a grin that was as sinister as it was satisfied, Brook took it upon himself to up the ante. He pushed her legs further, bending her body into a pose that would make even the most flexible contortionist envious. Her ankles now touched the back of her head, her pussy open and exposed like a treasure chest waiting to be plundered. The sight was almost too much for Zoro to handle, and his cock, already rock-hard, strained against the confines of his trousers.

With a growl that was part passion, part challenge, Zoro stood up, freeing his manhood. He wasted no time in positioning himself at her entrance, the head of his cock nudging against her swollen folds. Y/N's eyes snapped open, her gaze locking with Brook' empty sockets as she felt the blunt tip of Zoro's member press against her. She took a deep, shuddering breath, bracing herself for what was to come.

The swordsman didn't disappoint. With one powerful thrust, he claimed her, his cock driving deep into her quivering pussy. Her walls stretched to accommodate him, the feeling of fullness making her moan anew. Brook' grip tightened on her legs, holding her open even as she tried to close them around Zoro's waist. The musician watched, his skeletal hands shaking slightly with the effort of keeping her in place as the pirate began to move.

Zoro's hips snapped back and forth, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through her body. He was rough, claiming her with an aggression that mirrored his fighting style. His abs flexed with each plunge, his muscles rippling with the exertion. Y/N's eyes rolled back in her head, her mouth open in a silent scream as he fucked her mercilessly. The cabin walls seemed to vibrate with the force of their passion.

Her breasts bounced with each impact, her nipples peaked and sensitive. She reached down, her own hands joining Zoro's in the worship of her body. She pinched and rolled the sensitive nubs, her hips rising to meet his thrusts. The sensation was overwhelming, a symphony of pleasure that had her teetering on the brink of another climax.

Brook leaned in, mere inches from the slickness of her pussy, inhaling her scent with a greed that was palpable. He could feel the heat radiating from her body, smell the musky scent of their mating. His skeletal hands trembled with the effort of keeping her open, his own desire a palpable force in the room. He whispered lewd suggestions into her ear, his words a dark melody that played in harmony with the slap of flesh against flesh. His breath was hot against her skin, a ghostly caress that seemed to excite her even further.

The tension grew, the cabin a cocoon of desire. The sound of their lovemaking filled the air, a symphony of grunts and moans that seemed to resonate with the very soul of the ship. The floorboards creaked in protest as Zoro's powerful hips slammed into her again and again. The pirate was lost in the moment, his eyes glazed with lust as he claimed her in the most primal way possible.

Y/N could feel another orgasm building, her body tightening around Zoro's cock. She knew that she wouldn't be able to hold out much longer, the pleasure too intense to bear. Her eyes locked with Brook' skull, a silent plea for release passing between them. He leaned in closer still, brushing against her clit as he whispered one final, wicked suggestion.

The combination of Zoro's relentless pounding and Brook' ghostly whispers was too much. She came again, her pussy clenching tight around Zoro's shaft. The pirate groaned, his own climax approaching with the speed of a storm. He pumped into her harder, faster, his eyes never leaving hers as he chased his own release.

The room was alive with passion, the air thick with the promise of their union. 

Her hips bucked against Zoro's, her body moving in time with his steady rhythm. Each thrust sent shockwaves through her, and she could feel another climax building. The sight of Brook, holding her open, his skeletal hands stark against her flesh, was an oddly thrilling addition to the experience. It was a dance of power and pleasure, and she was the center of it all.

The room was alive with the sounds of their passion – the slap of skin against skin, the wet sounds of Zoro's movements, and the occasional clatter of Brook' bones as he adjusted his grip. Y/N felt a wildness within her that she had never experienced before, a primal need to be taken, to be used, to be seen.

Zoro's strokes grew more erratic, his breathing more ragged. His eyes never left hers as he brought her closer and closer to the edge. With a roar that could be heard on the deck above, he reached his climax, his hot seed spilling into her. Brook had to tighten his grip to keep her legs open as she bucked and writhed, her orgasm crashing over her in waves.

Yet, even as she came down from the peak, Zoro didn't stop. He pulled out only to thrust back in, filling her again and again with his cum. The sensation was overwhelming, a strange mix of pleasure and discomfort, as she felt herself growing wetter and wetter. Brook watched, his eye sockets seeming to bulge with excitement, as Zoro's movements grew messier and more desperate.

Y/N's thighs grew slick with the combination of their fluids, and she knew that she was going to be sore in the morning. But she didn't care. The feeling of being so utterly filled and claimed was intoxicating. Each time Zoro came, it was as if he was marking her as his own, and she reveled in the knowledge that she had the power to make him lose control like this.

The swordsman finally collapsed on top of her, panting heavily, his seed still leaking out of her. Brook, his own excitement at a fever pitch, didn't release her legs. Instead, he leaned in closer, his non-existent nose inhaling the scent of their combined arousal.

"Is this what you wanted?" she panted, looking up at the skeleton with a mix of defiance and lust. "Is this what you dreamed of?"

He nodded, his mouth moving to form words that she couldn't hear. He was in a daze, his mind racing with images of what he had just witnessed.

"Good," she whispered, her hand reaching up to trace the side of his skull. 

With Zoro's weight still pressing her into the mattress, she reached over to the nightstand, her hand closing around a small bottle of lubricant. With a wink at Brook, she began to stroke it over Zoro's softening member, watching with satisfaction as it grew hard again.

The swordsman groaned, his eyes opening in surprise. "What are you..."

"You're not done yet," she murmured, her voice a siren's call. "Not until Brook gets what he's been begging for."

The skeleton's grin was manic as he watched, his anticipation growing with each stroke of her hand. He knew what was coming, and he was ready to finally get his hands on the prize he had lusted after for so long.

As Zoro began to move again, she slid her hand away, leaving him to do the rest. The two men took over, their movements a silent dance of lust and desire. Y/N's eyes never left Brook' as she felt herself being filled once more, her body responding to the relentless onslaught of pleasure.

The air was thick with the scent of sex and sweat, and Y/N knew that she would never forget this night. As Zoro reached his climax once again, she felt a strange sense of accomplishment. She had taken control, made Brook pay for his lewd behavior in the most unexpected way. And in doing so, she had discovered a part of herself that she never knew existed.

With a final, lazy thrust, Zoro pulled out and rolled onto his back, his chest heaving with exertion. Y/N sat up, her legs still trembling, and slid off her panties, holding them out to Brook, a smug smile playing on her lips. "You can have them," she said, tossing them into his eagerly waiting ribcage.

Brook caught them, his grin so wide it looked like it might split his skull in two. He clutched the damp fabric to his chest, his excitement palpable even without the ability to blush. "Thank you, Y/N," he rasped, his voice thick with lust.

[bal-bullier]

Alma Thomas

Babbling Brook and Popular Brook whistling Trees symphony (1976)

[gojo-mochi]

(´ε｀ )♡ Thinkin about a very clingy Zoro

CW: Sort of Yandere/Nonestablished Relationship. Noncon/dubcon. Fem!Reader

He's not vocal about his clinginess, more of a action man instead. Since you were first accepted in the crew, he wasn't all that welcoming compared to the rest of the crew. Especially Sanji who quickly warmed up to you, making you your favorites dishes and drinks on the night to celebrate your arrival in the crew. You were playing around with Chopper and Usopp when you felt someone sit in the seat right next to you, looking to your left you find the green-haired swordsman chugging down a mug of beer.

His eye lazily glanced down at you with his one good eye, slamming down his mug, making you jump a bit in your seat. He raised an eyebrow at that.

"Didn't think our new crewmate would be so jumpy." He snorted, making your face heat up and your blood boil a bit. Usopp waves him off, "Oh, come on! We all can't be power monsters like you guys. I, for one, am glad to add another person who has common sense to our crew!" He quickly changes the mood by taking your hand in his and pulling you to the dance floor, Chopper following suit. The three of you hold hands in a circle and started jumping around. You quickly forgot about that small interaction with Zoro, but that entire night he never took his eye off of you.

You soon realized that Zoro is just a bit rough around the edges and mostly blunt but he doesn't mean any real harm. Still, you keep your distance mostly from him, opting to hang out with Chopper or Usopp instead. There was just something about the way he looks at you, like he was eyeing down a prey, it makes your spine shiver anytime you glance his way and catch him staring back.

Maybe he was still untrusting of you? It would make sense, he is the first mate, he gotta protect his crew after all. That was the reason you told yourself at least, to justify all the time you caught Zoro just staring at you from afar or downright following you. You gotten slowly used to his presence, not jumping up in shock anymore, anytime he would sneak up behind you or placed a hand on your shoulder.

Zoro got warmer to you, you think at least. He's usually fighting beside you in battles, or walking close by when you're out shopping in town. A hand on your shoulder, moves to a hand down your back, to a hand on your waist. You figured after a while, he accepted you as a crewmate and was just overprotective of the newcomer. It didn't help you found Zoro kinda attractive, so you let him get away with the small touching he did.

And then the touching grew into more and more, and you found yourself not being able to voiced out concerns anymore. The other crewmate, beside Luffy, often giggled when they find the two of you together. Usopp and Franky would make kissy faces when Zoro would sit next to you at lunch. Sanji looks at you dejected from time to time, muttering under his breath, "What does she even see in that moss-brain idiot.."

It wasn't like you were dating Zoro, right? He never asked you out officially, he just always been there. Always...

And, now he was getting bold with his actions. When he's sleeping on the desk, resting his back on the side of the Sunny, he would sense you walking by and trips you on purpose. Making you land on his lap and holding you there. Letting out a huge yawn over your complaining and rolling over on top of you, if you were to squirm around too much. Brook would wolf-whistle if you kept on squirming while underneath Zoro, making you effectively stop all movement.

When it's his turn on the Crow Nest, Zoro would pick you up by the scuff of your shirt, dragging you away from whatever it was you're doing and make you go up there with him. He'll do the same when he's in training at the gym. Stating that he needs "help" with his workout. Though, you're not sure what you're helping by just sitting on his chest or back while he does his reps.

If you're in town or meeting other crews, Zoro would be behind you, or he'll have you tucked into his side, arms around you tight. Glaring at anyone who ever tries to look your way. All the other crews knew that you were 'Zoro's property' and not to mess with you, unless they wanted to end up on impaled on his swords.

He knew your routine to a T, what time you woke up, takes a shower, your daily tasks. And he would just be there at your side or if he had another task to do, he'll keep an eye on you, always...

He knew what you like and dislike, picking up small snacks and trinkets for you, dropping them off on your lap without a word. But looking down at you expectingly, like cat wanting praise for being their owner an offering. Though you were unsure who was the pet and who was the owner in this scenario, as somehow you ended up in Zoro's bed.

Dragged away once again, right after a bath night with the girls too. Nami giggled at the two of you and Robin told you to "Keep it safe." as she waves you off, the both of them seemingly ignoring the confused and panicked look on your face.

He smelt like musk and sweat and you idly wondered if he showered yet or just came to bed right after the gym. He was still shirtless as he presses you right up agaisnt his chest, his head buried on top of your hair. Snuffing at your scent, a deep rumble blooms in his chest as he squeezes you a bit tighter, his biceps trapping you in this position. He lets out a deep sigh, hands traveling down your body, grabbing and pinching at your skin.

Grunting out when you start to wiggle and struggle a bit in his grasp, accidentally brushing your knees right up against his hard on. He push his own knee right between your legs, forcing them apart as he makes you grind on his thigh. The thin pajamas short you were wearing did little to help against the friction it was causing, he flexes his thighs in a way that make you mewl out and dig your nails in his shoulders.

"Good girl.." He growls out, finally addressing you like a person and not some doll.

"Zo-Zoro, what are we-Mmph!" He silences you with a kiss, speeding up his movement and moving his hands down to grope at your ass. His tongue parting your lips open and invading your mouth hotly. You moan so sweetly underneath him like this, your back arching up into him as he remove one hand to ghost under your shirt, pinching at your nipples.

He parts away from you, and from the moonlight coming thru the window. You saw Zoro's face, flushed with a light pink, and his eye starting down at you. A deep dark desire swirling within them, he grins almost manically at you.

"I knew it... I always knew you wanted me too...haha.."

He moves back a bit to get both legs in between yours so he could spread you open even more. His hands gripping the soft flesh of your thighs and pushing it to your chest. Your hands clamber to stop him, heart racing over this fast exchange of events.

"You're gonna be punished for making me wait so long.."

[licorice-tea]

Don’t Fall In Love With Me (Yet) Pt. 3

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x reader

Content: reader wears a bathing suit (bikini top, shirtless, etc not specified!!!), a tiny amount of cursing, jealousy, a little hurt/comfort, gn reader, strawhat reader

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: hey guys! sorry i’ve been sort of MIA for a few days, just got really busy and things. but, i finally had the time and energy to write today! law wants the reader so bad if you can’t tell… but he’s like waiting bc he’s unsure of how to the whole relationship, but like he’s learning!!! and they’re growing together!! so i hope you enjoy <3 (comment to be tagged in future parts!!!)

Part 2

It’s not uncommon for people to fall overboard on the Thousand Sunny. And by people, you mean Luffy, Chopper, and Brook. How was it that three out of the five devil fruit users currently on board were so clumsy? You weren’t quite sure, but it was something all the crew was accustomed to and therefore knew to watch out for.

On this occasion, it’s a Chopper who’s managed to be knocked into the sea below.

“Chopper, watch out!” Zoro calls to the young doctor, but it’s too late. He’s hit head on by a wooden plank under Franky’s arm. As the cyborg spins around in turning directions, he knocks the poor reindeer overboard.

“Shit! Quick, somebody go get him!” Nami commands.

You’re already stripping off your shirt and shoes (you’re wearing a bathing suit underneath, of course) as you run to the side of the ship. “On it!” The entire crew follows after you while Chopper is still falling, not even in the water yet. Your hands are on the railing ready to jump over, when you hear; “Room, Shambles” along with the sudden absence of Chopper’s scream. Sanji holds you back at the last second and helps you back down to the deck when you all realize; he’s back on the deck. The rest of your friends rush back to the center of the deck, where Chopper seems to be safe and sound. He clings on to his savior, Law’s leg, gasping and still catching his breath after his brush with death.

You and Sanji run to join the others, who are surrounding the youngest crewmates with hugs and crying. (You’re a very emotional group of people, after all.) Meanwhile, Law stands with his arms crossed off to the side. You run to him, instead, wrapping your arms around his neck in a brief hug.

“Thank you, Law.”

You could swear that you see a smile pass over his features before he coughs and shakes his head. “Don’t mention it.”

Laws hands remain on your hips after you’ve pulled back, and yours are still resting on his shoulders. You smile at him, and he wants nothing more than to just take your jaw in his hand and kiss you. The skin to skin contact from you being stripped down to your swimwear, and him shirtless as per usual, causes his cheeks and ears to flush a rosy hue.

Unfortunately, your rare, tender moment is disrupted by a low whistle, followed by teasing remarks and laughter. How could he have forgotten that your crew- your very obnoxious, childish, silly crew- is standing just feet away? Sure, you might not mind being so openly affectionate around them, but he does! So, with extreme awkwardness, he releases you and steps backwards.

*Ahem… I, uh…”

“They’re only, teasing, Law.” You laugh along with your friends.

He watches as you bound away from him and into the arms of your crewmates, playfully pushing them away as they sing some ridiculous song; “Law and y/n, sitting in a tree…” Even though you’re telling them off, he can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy at how naturally you fit in with all of them. How easily they make you smile and laugh- had you ever looked so happy in front of him? The whole ordeal makes him feel self conscious. “I could never make you as happy as your crew does,” he thinks. “And you would never leave them for me.”

That’s enough for him to storm off, too annoyed to even wave “bye.” Of course, you take notice of this. Surrounded by people a thousand times more boisterous than him, your eyes still remain drawn to his figure. You excuse yourself from the others and follow Law, calling after him.

“Law! Wait up!”

There’s evident surprise in his expression when he turns back. He pauses for you to catch up with him in a narrow corridor below deck, while you slip your shirt back over your head. “What is it?”

You quirk a brow- his tone is colder than it usually is (with you, at least.) Had the jokes from your fellow Strawhats really bothered him so much? “Uh… nothing, I just want to go with you.”

He hums and continues walking. “I’m not doing anything very fun. Just going to study.”

With a shrug, you continue following him. “Then I’ll catch up on my reading, too.”

When Law stops suddenly and turns to face you once more, you nearly bump into his chest. “You don’t have to coddle me, y/n.”

“…What?”

“Go have fun with your friends, I’m fine.”

“What are you talking about? They were just kidding about us, Law, it doesn’t mean anything.”

“That-That’s not what I’m talking about! You don’t have to follow me around and pretend like you enjoy being around me when it’s so obvious how much you love being with your crew.”

“Is that why you’re upset? You’re jealous because I love my crew?”

“I’m not jealous, I just don’t like being pitied.”

“I don’t pity you, Law. We’re friends- isn’t that a good enough reason to want to be around you?”

“I don’t believe you.”

You scoff. Sometimes, you forget how sensitive his ego is. “Well, it’s true.”

“Don’t lie to-“

“I’m not lying! God, why is it so hard to believe that I enjoy being with you? That I like you?”

He goes silent, and you stare at each other- both with fierce determination in your eyes.

“I know that you don’t always get along with them… and you’re different from them, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends, you know.”

“Well, you look really happy with them.”

“I’m happy with you, too.”

At that moment, Sanji rings the lunch bell, and Luffy and Usopp dash through the hall between you and Law. Usopp shouts, “Out of the way, lovebirds!” and you can’t help but giggle despite being in the midst of some sort of argument.

Law nods in their direction. “Go have fun.”

But, before he can walk away, you grab his hand. “Not without you.”

He would scowl if he weren’t so caught off guard by the feeling of your hand around his. With some grumbled reply, he complies, and trails after you all the way to the kitchen/dining room for lunch.

When you walk in and take your seat at the table, food is already being served. Law is right behind you (as he often is nowadays), so nobody pays the two of you much mind for being a little late. Sanji finishes serving everyone their plates, and the chatter begins to flow naturally once you’ve all taken the first bites of his delicious food. Law loosens up a little after a few minutes- it’s hard to stay angry when you eat Sanji’s food, after all. He makes a comment under his breath, hoping to clear the air between the two of you.

“This is nice.” You think he’s stating the obvious- Sanji’s food is always nice- as some cheap shot at an apology for his standoffish behavior. Then he adds, “Good food, too.” Law hopes that you’ll understand what he’s trying to say; “I don’t hate your friends, and I’m going to be better at getting along with them, for you.”

Luckily, your ability to read between the lines makes up for the lack of clarity in his apology. It still brings a bright smile to your face though, which grows into a grin after you reply. “It is, isn’t it?”

He simply smiles back at you and nods, a weight taken off his shoulders at the assurance you’re no longer at odds with him.

Robin takes notice of the quiet exchange, and decided to poke fun in her usual eerily-observant way; “You seem to be adept at making y/n smile, Law.”

Nami agrees, and adds on to the teasing; “Awww look! They have hearts in their eyes!”

Law’s cheeks flush as you launch into animated banter with Nami, but he still smiles to himself as he eats. Maybe it’s not so bad, learning to fit into your life alongside your crew family. The archeologist and navigator are right that you do seem especially happy around him, he had just been too preoccupied with how that happiness compares to the way you are with them. Still, it seems they had all taken notice of the increasingly obvious affection growing between the two of you. So, Law would learn to be more accommodating of your people- and to be less jealous (not that he ever was jealous, that’s just silly), rather than force you to favor one or the other.

After all, they were rooting for his relationship with you just as much as he was.

[hummingbird24220]

Can I request Sanji and reader having a competition about who is more flexible but nobody (including Sanji) is normal about it at all? <3

(Also Neko reader was totally right about taking panties out of the equation lol)

Hello. Yes. Yes you can. I love Sanji bbyboi

I had a lot of fun writing this - don't worry if you cant understand the stretches completely, i cant either.

Enjoy!

Stretch Goals

One Piece x Reader (Technically more Sanji x Reader)

You were bored. Like, “make questionable life choices just to spice things up” bored.

Which is how you ended up perched on the rail of the Thousand Sunny’s deck doing a full split while eating an apple and trying to spark a reaction out of literally anyone walking by.

And it worked—because you made eye contact with Sanji, who froze mid-step, dropped his tray of freshly cut vegetables, and blinked like he just saw God herself do the splits on his kitchen counter.

“Mon dieu…”

You grinned. “You like that?”

His mouth opened. No words. Just vibes. Questionable, chaotic vibes.

“…Are you mocking me?” he finally blurted, flustered and weirdly competitive for someone blushing that hard.

You snorted. “No. Just showing off. Bet I’m more flexible than you.”

Oh. Oh no. That did it.

His eye twitched. A storm of sparkles exploded behind him. “You dare challenge the flexibility of me—Sanji, whose high kicks are more glorious than sunrise on All Blue?!”

“Okay but can you high-kick while in a backbend?”

His jaw dropped. You smirked harder. Around you, several crewmates were beginning to drift closer, drawn in like flies to extremely unhinged honey.

Zoro passed by, caught half a sentence, and immediately turned around. “Nope. I’m not getting pulled into whatever weird mating ritual this is.”

Usopp poked his head out of the workshop. “Did someone say mating ritual??”

“NO,” Sanji and you shouted in unison—before immediately going back to your Flex-Off.

“I’m serious,” you teased, rolling back into a bridge position. “I can out-bend you any day.”

Sanji’s eyes narrowed. He pulled off his jacket with a dramatic flick. “That’s it. Flexibility duel. Right here. Right now.”

You blinked. “…Is that a thing?”

“It is now.”

Chopper trotted up with an enthusiastic, “I’ll be the judge!!” Robin sipped her tea from a deck chair. “This should be... enlightening.” Nami folded her arms, watching like someone about to witness a live trainwreck. “You two are so weird.”

“Ready, mon chéri?” Sanji purred, one leg already lifting above his head at a frankly dangerous angle.

You grinned, not even pretending to hide the sparkle of mischief in your eye. “Let’s bend.”

And thus began the most uncomfortably sensual, overly dramatic, completely unnecessary contest the Thousand Sunny had ever seen.

Sanji was in his element. His leg was straight in the air, toes pointed, shirt open, collar popped like he thought this was a modeling gig, not a flexibility duel. The sea breeze dramatically tousled his hair. The sparkle effect? Unexplainable. Possibly supernatural.

“I’ll start us off,” he said suavely, flipping into a handstand with unholy grace. He bent one leg, extended the other, and winked at you from upside down.

There was clapping. From himself.

“Oooohhh~!” Brook whistled from the upper deck, adjusting his violin. “Ladies and gentlemen, I believe we are witnessing… ballet in battle form.”

Usopp was crouched beside Chopper, scribbling on a notepad like a sports commentator. “Sanji’s opening with the Scissor Swan Split—classic. Good form. 8.5 in showmanship.”

“He blew me a kiss,” Chopper said, blushing and confused. “I don’t think that was for me.”

You popped your knuckles. “Alright, Leg Boy. My turn.”

Your hands hit the deck and you swung into a no-hands bridge, then smoothly transitioned into a standing pose by lifting one leg completely vertical up beside your head like gravity meant nothing.

Sanji choked on his cigarette.

“Are you okay?” you asked sweetly, balancing like a human compass.

“I—YOU—THAT—!!!” He slapped a hand over his nose like a nosebleed was a legitimate threat. “You can’t just do that in front of a man! I am barely holding onto life here!”

“Bro. You challenged me.”

Robin tilted her head, smirking behind her book. “This may be the only duel Sanji has ever regretted starting.”

“You’re welcome!” you called, now in a full split on top of the railing, arms lazily dangling over the side like a cat sunbathing in the middle of a fencing match.

Sanji started pacing like a man on trial for war crimes. “Okay. Okay. Time to bring out the secret weapon.”

You blinked. “You have a secret weapon?”

“Oh, yes.” His voice dropped a full octave. “Prepare yourself.”

And that’s when he jumped. Like a pirouetting demon, he launched into the air, spun, and landed perfectly in a full split. Shirt flying open. Arms extended. Head tilted back with the sun directly behind him.

If he had landed on a plate of roses, it wouldn’t have been out of place.

There was silence.

Then:

“…IS HE CRYING?” Usopp screeched. “Why is HE crying?! I want to cry! That was beautiful!”

Chopper fainted. Brook began composing a ballad.

Even Franky, who’d walked out for one second to grab a wrench, paused and muttered, “That’s… SUPER illegal.”

You clapped slowly. “Okay. That was good. Real good. But I hope you're ready—because I'm about to pull out my final move.”

Sanji gasped. “There’s more?!”

You locked eyes. “Oh yeah. The move I swore I’d never do again.”

Behind you, Nami groaned. “You two are going to break something. Possibly each other.”

Zoro stomped past, eyes shut. “If anyone asks, I wasn’t here.”

You smiled like a demon summoned from the depths of Cirque du Soleil. “Ready?”

Sanji held onto the railing. “Never. But do it anyway.”

You moved.

And the world would never be the same.

--

The deck was quiet. The kind of quiet that settles before an earthquake.

Sanji stood, legs trembling—not from the stretch, but from anticipation. Sweat glistened on his temple. He gripped the railing like it was the only thing anchoring him to reality.

“Okay,” he whispered. “I’m ready. Hit me with it.”

You nodded solemnly, shook out your limbs, and cracked your neck like an elite gymnast about to destroy the competition and probably a vertebrae.

Everyone leaned in.

And then—

You jumped.

A full backflip. Into a handstand. Into a one-arm arched handstand split where you hooked your foot around the ship’s mast while casually sipping the juice box you had pulled from your shirt.

“WHAT IN THE HELL—” Sanji screamed, hands on his head, spiraling. “THAT SHOULDN’T BE HOT. THAT SHOULDN’T EVEN BE LEGAL.”

“I call it,” you sipped, “the Juice Box Dropkick.”

Brook’s jaw literally dropped off. “I—I think I’m in love.”

Usopp slammed his notepad shut. “Nope. No score. I’m not scoring this. I don’t even understand this anymore.”

Chopper wheezed into a paper bag. “Y/N has joints like a snake. Like a stylish, flirty, unholy snake.”

You dismounted with a flourish, landing perfectly upright and striking a pose like this was Chippendales: Sunny Edition.

Sanji fell to his knees.

“I have been bested,” he gasped, clutching his chest. “I am destroyed. I am... aroused and defeated.”

Zoro stood nearby, face hidden behind his hand. “I’m leaving. I can’t be part of this crew anymore.”

“You were never part of this crew,” Sanji snapped, dramatically draped over the railing like a Victorian widow.

“I was here, and that was my first mistake.”

And then—

“Ohhhh is this a stretchy game?!” Luffy landed with a thud between you and Sanji, arms flinging out to the sides like a noodle possessed.

You both froze. Sanji recovered first.

“No. No. Absolutely not.”

“I WANNA TRY!” Luffy yelled, immediately contorting into something that looked vaguely like a starfish having a breakdown.

You blinked. “...Did his shoulder just rotate the wrong direction?”

“It’s fine! I’m rubber!” Luffy cackled, suddenly balancing on one toe while his other leg bent behind his head and slapped Zoro in the face.

Zoro punched him in the shin. “Get me out of this crew.”

“Wait, wait,” you said, cracking up. “I’ve got an idea.”

Sanji looked at you like you’d just suggested marriage and public execution at the same time. “You have another idea?”

“Team flexibility competition. Me and you… versus Luffy and Brook.”

There was a pause.

Brook raised his hand. “May I remind everyone that I have no muscles?”

“You also have no shame,” Sanji gritted out.

“Exactly,” Brook said cheerfully. “Let’s make this indecent!”

Nami facepalmed so hard she might’ve concussed herself. “I hate all of you.”

Robin didn’t even look up. “I’m just waiting for someone to pull something. Probably a groin.”

There was a crowd.

An audience.

At least six crewmates had snacks. Brook had his violin. Robin had summoned extra arms specifically to hold up numbered scorecards. Chopper stood off to the side, holding medical supplies and muttering, “Someone’s gonna tear a hamstring. Someone’s gonna cry.”

And in the middle of the chaos stood you and Sanji. Team "Unholy Tension."

Opposite you: Luffy and Brook. Team “What The Hell Is Going On.”

You cracked your knuckles. “Alright, Sanji. First move is the Double Pretzel Bind.”

Sanji blinked. “I—what?”

Too late.

You grabbed his arms and spun him like a dance partner, locking your legs around his waist and pulling him backward until your torsos were pressed flush, both of you bent at 90-degree angles, looking like a yin-yang symbol designed by horny gymnasts.

“OH SWEET MOTHER OF—”

Sanji’s soul physically left his body. You were 99% sure you saw it float upward.

“Relax,” you said innocently, shifting slightly. “You’re too stiff.”

Sanji made a strangled noise. “I AM TRYING.”

“Not hard enough,” you teased, your breath ghosting over his ear.

Behind you, Usopp was openly screaming. “THIS IS NOT A FAMILY-FRIENDLY SHOW. I REPEAT. ABANDON SHIP.”

Nami shoved popcorn in her mouth with a vengeance. “You could leave, Usopp.”

“I can’t. It’s like a train wreck. With abs.”

Meanwhile, Luffy had twisted his entire torso into a loop and was hula-hooping Brook. Like. Using Brook as a prop.

“I call this move the Skeleton Spiral!” he cheered.

“I feel ALIVE!” Brook wailed.

“No, you don’t!” Chopper sobbed.

Robin, ever the supportive chaos enabler, casually raised a "9" and smiled.

“Okay, new round,” you gasped, having dismounted from Sanji only for him to collapse on the deck, face flushed and steam practically whistling out his ears.

“Sanji, are you okay?” you asked sweetly.

“I am...not okay,” he mumbled into the floorboards. “I am... experiencing every emotion known to man. And several that shouldn't be legal.”

You nudged him with your toe. “C’mon, Casanova. Final pose.”

He looked up. “What kind of pose?”

You grinned like the devil.

“Couple’s yoga.”

Sanji stopped breathing.

Brook immediately played a romantic waltz. Luffy yelled, “I WANNA DO A KISS POSE WITH BROOK!” Brook screamed, “I DON’T EVEN HAVE LIPS!!”

And then you sat on Sanji’s lap. Back to chest. Legs tangled. Arms up and curved into a heart-shape above your heads.

The deck exploded.

“THAT’S NOT EVEN A STRETCH,” Zoro bellowed from somewhere very far away.

“It is if you do this,” you whispered, twisting slightly and stretching your spine—your head lolling back against Sanji’s shoulder.

Sanji died. Just flatlined.

Brook kept playing. Chopper cried harder. Luffy attempted to mimic you both and fell off the deck.

“Sanji?” you murmured, glancing back.

He was just lying there. A gentle smile on his lips. Nosebleed imminent. “I saw heaven. She’s very flexible.”

The Sunny’s deck was wrecked.

Not physically—yet—but spiritually? Emotionally? The vibes? Ruined.

Chopper was sobbing quietly into a first aid kit. Usopp had duct-taped two planks together and was pretending they were “emergency blinkers.” Nami had stopped watching entirely and was just muttering, “I don’t get paid enough for this,” even though no one on this ship actually gets paid.

Brook was still playing violin. You were not sure when he learned the Titanic theme.

And Zoro… Zoro had made a critical mistake.

He came too close.

And Luffy grabbed him. “YOU’RE MY NEW PARTNER!”

“No—”

Too late.

Zoro was in a headlock, Luffy’s legs wrapped around him like some hellish rubber vine, and now both of them were rolling across the deck in what looked like a very violent—and extremely bendy—game of Twister.

“I DIDN’T SIGN UP FOR THIS—” Zoro barked as he went airborne.

Chopper screamed. Nami cackled. Robin politely gave them a “7.”

Meanwhile, Sanji had recovered.

Barely.

And was now leaning casually against the mast, one hand dramatically ruffling his hair. “Alright, mon amour. One final pose. Let’s end this right.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You got a move in mind?”

“Oh yes,” he said, eyes smoldering. “I call it... La Fin de Moi.”

“…That sounds like a dramatic way to die.”

“It is.”

You didn’t have time to process before he scooped you up bridal-style, spun you once like he was dancing through a storm of flower petals (there were no petals—only stunned silence), then dipped you into a perfect backbend, his hand at your lower back, your faces inches apart.

You blinked. “This isn’t a stretch.”

“It could be,” he purred. “If you lean a little closer.”

“…You mean like—”

And then he did it. He bent backward too, supporting you with one hand while you both formed a perfect mirrored arch, noses brushing, breath tangled.

“NOW THAT’S FLEXIBILITY,” Sanji grinned, eyes locked with yours, every fiber of his being screaming "kiss me, you absolute menace."

Everyone lost it.

“OH MY GOD—” Usopp threw his hat. Brook fainted. Just straight-up keeled over. Nami stood and started clapping like it was Broadway. Chopper yelled, “SOMEONE’S GONNA BREAK THEIR SPINE—BUT IT’S BEAUTIFUL.”

You laughed breathlessly, still arched in Sanji’s arms. “So… who wins?”

He leaned closer, eyes fluttering half-lidded, voice husky. “Who cares?” His breath ghosted over your lips. “We both got… flexible.”

And with that, he passed out.

Just full body limp, collapsed like a starfish with a romantic death wish. You ended up awkwardly cradling his head, laughing so hard your ribs hurt.

Zoro, bruised and tangled in Luffy’s arms like a cartoon pretzel, snarled from the side. “Next time I’m throwing both of you overboard.”

You wiped a tear from your eye and grinned.

“Only if you can reach us, Stretchy.”

[gatitties]

HELLO HELLO!! I hope ur having a good life!

Can I get a strawhats x teen!Reader where the reader doesn’t talk cuz their too shy? The reader still interacts with them but just doesn’t use their voice, they interact by using expressions, actions(hugging the crew aww), grunting and sighing, from the actions the reader has done the crew knows they are a sweet kid and just want to help. The reader is scared to talk cuz they feel like their an awkward person and don’t want to say anything out of place and one day they decide to do it and they tell the crew why their too shy!

Udhfueihfhs take ur time with this and enjoy life pls and tyyy!!!

─Strawhats x teen!reader (platonic)

─Summary: you surprise the crew by talking longer than you ever did because of your shyness

─Warnings: none

here it iss, I hope you have a good life too! 😋

─ Everyone thought you were mute when you joined the crew.

─ It took them a week to hear your first words, after that Luffy pressured you to talk more because he thought if you don't talk it was because you were mad at them.

─ Nami put him in his place with a good blow, the others understood that you prefer not to speak for whatever reason, if you didn't want to say it you were within your rights.

─ The truth is that you did not feel too comfortable using your voice, you preferred to express your thoughts or feelings through actions, it seemed much more comfortable to you.

─ When you take more confidence you start to use grunts or light whistles, somehow you manage to communicate with them through a strange sign language.

─ Robin will probably ask you more than once the reasons for your refusal to speak, but she will not pressure you, she usually gives you paper and a pen so that you can communicate more easily when it is difficult for you.

─ Usopp, Chopper and Franky will write down everything they learn from your gestures to understand you better, as if they were learning a new language on their own.

─ Luffy and Zoro… they're trying their hardest, they never quite understand your hand movements or interpretations, but they're better at reading your eyes, so one look is enough for them to know what you want, at least in most occasions.

─ Sanji had no problems relating to you either, he knew how to read body language very well and he knew how to win your trust quickly thanks to his cooking.

─ Nami, Brook and Jinbe don't seem to have much trouble understanding you, they were probably the first to hear you speak for the first time for so long.

─ With the passage of time you gained enough courage and affection to talk to everyone, you felt bad thinking that they didn't know why you didn't talk and you thought they deserved at least one explanation.

─ When you explained that you were too shy to use your voice and you didn't want to blurt out bad comments, they all laughed at you, not in a bad way of course, they knew you would never say anything hurtful on purpose.

─ Although they already accepted that you were not a person of many words, they understood the reason from another perspective, at least from now on they got used to listening to your voice a little more, although you preferred to remain silent, you gained more confidence to speak more often.