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recuira · 7 months

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after hours

after hours : a live action buggy x fem!reader fanfiction

for some odd reason, you have no idea who he is. and he fucking loved that.

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chapter one chapter two

chapter three | waves. wanted. wasted.

his pov;

A few weeks passed by and I had not heard from or seen Y/N. It worried me but due to her emotional episode the last time we spoke, I decided to allow her a bit of space without me breathing down her shoulder. It was difficult, but I sufficed. It was odd enough that I had a slight obsession with the poor girl, why must I infest her life as well?

Part of me believed she needed me. Like at any moment, I could sweep in and save her from whatever danger or predicament she was in. I wanted to be there for her. But it deemed up to her whether that could happen or not.

And due to her absence, I took up drinking again.

Stupid, I know.

But I was alone with my thoughts. I wanted to at least drown them out. So I sat by myself night after night, sitting on someone's old fishing boat, a warm bottle of beer in my hand. After the third bottle, which was tossed on the deck, I laid back, arms folding behind my head as I attempted to count each star in the sky without thinking of her. But the farthest I could ever go was seven. After seven, Y/N's sweet, precious smile wafted through my mind like smell of her decadent perfume. Vanilla and coconut. God, I missed it.

I repeated this each night. And tonight, I kept up with the schedule. But I only counted to six before her laughter soothed my aching heart. I smiled to myself, my eyes closing as I thought of her- thought of us. I imagined how pleasant it would be to wake up next to her. To see her sleeping stature as she buried her face into one of the pillows, surrounded by both my arms and blankets would be such a heavenly slight.

The alcohol did nothing to me.

I was still sober no matter how much I drank.

But I was drunk on her.

I shook my head and sat up, taking one last swig of beer before standing up. I gripped the neck of the bottle tightly then tossed it into the calm sea, watching it dip below the surface before it bobbed back to the top. I observed as the tides crashed, causing the boat to glide along the waves. It was a simple sight, but I wanted more. I wanted to be entertained. I didn't want to be alone.

Ever since- no, no, no. I'm not going to think about that.

I left the trash of empty beer bottles and crawled off of the ship, making my way back to the rocky dock. I made my way down the street, not spotting a single soul. It was rather unusual due to the swarms of pirates this small town received. But it was quiet. And I liked it. The sounds of the black shoes echoed as I stepped forward then walked down a small stairway, heading down to the place I liked to call home. It wasn't anything too special, but it was mine. It was somewhere I could be completely alone and relax.

I nudged the stone door open then shut it behind me, the sound of it slamming a little too loud for my liking. I squinted and fumbled around for the lantern that lit up the small abode. I used the dim moonlight to spot the box of matches and I used one to lit the lantern.

I stumbled to my bed, pressing my left foot against my right calf to discard of my shoe, then I repeated it with the other foot. I unbuttoned the striped vest I wore and let it slide down onto the floor. I pulled off the bandana around my neck, dropping it. A puddle of clothing sat by my bedside. Once I was finished, I laid down on the left side of the bed, my arm slung over my forehead.

But a rapid banging noise erupted, causing my body to jump up. It almost felt like I was falling.

Rubbing my eyes, I looked at the door and groaned.

What drunken idiot decided to disturb me tonight?

I slapped my hands over my ears and closed my eyes but the knocking continued, only growing more frequent and forceful. I couldn't take the loud banging anymore and I pushed myself up from the bed, starting to the door. I grabbed the rusted doorknob and yanked it open. I was seething at this point. Who, in their right mind, would disrupt someone's sleep at this hour?

The door opened quickly and I buried my face in my hand, growling. "What the fuck do you want?"

"Oh, I- I'm sorry."

What?

I dropped my hands and my eyes widened upon the sight of Y/N standing in front of me, her hands buried into the pockets of the coat she wore. My coat. "Oh, fuck," I muttered. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know it was you. Y/N, I didn't mean it."

She waved her hands and smiled. "Don't worry about it, it's okay," She said and her eyes trailed down to look at my body. "Uhm, did I come at a bad time?" She pointed at my shirtless figure.

I cocked an eyebrow then met where her eyes were looking and I gasped, stepping back. For the first time, most likely ever, I felt embarrassed. "No, no, I was just heading to bed," I said with a yawn. I stood back, pulling the door open. "Want to come in?"

"Yeah, thank you."

Y/N took a step inside and I closed the door behind her. I watched her closely as she walked toward my bed then took a seat on it, her hands folding in her lap. Apart from the jacket, she was only wearing a black shirt with baby blue shorts. Her eyes dropped to stare at my discarded clothing which I quickly kicked to the corner of the room. She laughed at this then her hands slapped together. An uncomfortable silence fell upon us, the only noise heard being the crackling of the flame inside the lantern. Hesitating, I started toward the bed then took a seat beside her, maintaining a distance between us. Her head dropped to look at her hands. "So," She began, fiddling with her fingers. "I'm sorry to intrude like this, I just-"

"How did you know where I lived?" I asked, raising an eyebrow as I turned my head to look at her.

"Oh, well, uh-" She scratched the back of her neck and clenched her jaw. "It sounds really weird so please don't call me creepy but I saw you a week or so ago. You were sitting on a boat. I followed you back to your home but before I could talk to you, you headed inside. I know it sounds so weird and I promise I wasn't stalking you! I was just too nervous to talk to you," She admitted, her head dropping into her hands.

So, I wasn't the only one. I smirked to myself and I watched her, admiring how nervous and timid she was. I tilted my head. "Don't worry, it's okay. Don't be scared to talk to me, though. I don't bite."

The girl chuckled, nodding her head. "I wanted to give you your coat back. I really appreciated the gesture but I don't want to take anymore from you than I already have," She mumbled as she let the sleeves fall from her shoulders. She folded the clothing and sit it on my lap. "And I don't have your money yet, I'm sorry."

"Y/N, don't apologize. I told you you didn't need to pay me back."

"But I can't accept it without paying you back. You've already done so much for me. You lent me your jacket, paid for my meal, listened to my woes, and gave me forty-three hundred berries. You're doing too much for me. I don't deserve it."

"You do deserve it. What makes you think you don't?"

"I don't know. It's stupid."

"Y/N, come on, tell me," I begged, reaching to put my hand on her shoulder. I was still wondering why she was here. Well, I understood, but why so late? It was well past midnight. Did she realize how dangerous it was to walk alone at this god forsaken hour?

"If I tell you, you need to tell me your problems, okay?" She said with a stern tone that I've never heard before. It was hot.

I held my hands up, nodding my head. "Yes, alright." I scooted back, letting myself rest against the pillows. I folded my arms over my chest, still feeling slightly exposed. “Oh, uh, do you want something to drink?”

“Do you have anything other than beer?”

“Not really, no,” I admitted with a sheepish grin.

“Then I’m okay.”

I bobbed my head then proceeded to remain quiet.

“I just- I’m just me, ya know? I’m not anyone special. Yeah, I have a sad life because my dad left and I have not a single berry to my name, but other than that, I’m like everyone else. I don’t like pirates, I hate alcohol, and I eat dessert before the main course. How am I so different?” She threw her hands up to exaggerate her point. “Why are you doing all this for me? I don’t get it.”

“I see myself in you, or something. I don’t know.” I didn’t want to tell her how infatuated I was with her. Well, I wanted to, but how could I? She’d either run back home or tell me she wasn’t interested. Who would be interested with a nose like mine?

I grimaced to myself. “You’re a nice girl. And you seem sad all the time. I never see you smile. I’m always smiling.”

“That’s because it’s painted on your face.”

I clenched my jaw. “Good point. But you know what I mean. There’s a lot more to life than sadness. I get it, it’s hard. Life fucking sucks sometimes. Before I met you, I was, uhm, I wasn’t that great of a person. I was mean, conniving, evil, some would say. I was an asshole. I was selfish. But I decided to give that all up and move on, start a new life. Being sad and depressive all of the time just causes you to miss our on the good things. I get to see the sun shining each morning. I get to share a meal with a friend like you. Hell, I am fortunate enough to know someone like you. I want to help you. I was in your boat. And now I wanna help you back to shore,” I said as I reached out and let my hand rest on her thigh. Not in a perverted way, no, but as a way of expressing my deepest condolences for her.

Y/N frowned and let her hand rest on my own. “I don’t feel like I deserve it. I don’t give you anything in return.”

“You give me your friendship, your presence. I’m lucky to be friends with someone like you.”

“You consider us friends?”

“Well,” I gulped. “If that’s alright.”

“No, it is. I think we’re friends. too.”

I smiled at that. “Good.”

“Buggy,” The girl started, removing her hand from mine. “This is a big question and you already do so much for me. I’d hate to ask any more from you.”

“Go on.”

“Can I stay here? Just for tonight?”

“What? Of course you can. My home is your home.”

“My mom and I had a little fight earlier and I got kicked out for the night. I told her how I felt about my father and she told me she held no grudge toward him. That I was disrespecting him by saying I hated him for what he did,” She frowned and dropped her head. “Is that so wrong of me?”

“Of course not. You’re entitled to your own feelings.”

“Thank you, Buggy.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Y/N nodded her head, sending a warm smile my way. It was such a heavenly sight. So beautiful, so sacred. To see someone as precious as her so sad made my heart ache. I could physically feel it. But I was determined to make her feel better. I wanted to show her that laughter truly is the best medicine.

I watched her closely, admiring the soft features on her face. She was perfect- beyond perfect, even. She was a goddess. And I’d worship the ground beneath her feet if I could.

“What time is it?” She asked.

“I think around two in the morning. It’s very late. Are you tired?”

“A little, yeah. I just had a long day.”

“Go to sleep then, come on.” I pushed myself up and off of the bed, landing on my bare feet. I pulled the sheets down and allowed for Y/N to crawl underneath them. She was shivering. “Do you want to wear the coat?”

“If it’s okay, please.”

I smirked. “Of course it is.”

The girl slipped her arms through and wrapped the lapels around herself before tucking the sheets around her body. Her head rested on the pillows and she hummed, a small smile settling on her face. “So cozy.”

“I know. It’s perfect for when I need my beauty sleep.”

“Oh, come on, you don’t need beauty sleep,” She mumbled, turning to let her cheek rest atop the pillow. Her eyes closed, her long eyelashes casting a dim shadow along her cheeks.

What did that mean?

I peeked an eyebrow up as I stared down upon the restful angel, watching as she made herself comfortable.

“Have a nice sleep, Y/N.”

“Where are you sleeping,” She asked, her eyes closed.

“Don’t worry about me. Just get some shut eye.”

“I’m sorry for stealing your bed.”

“I’d lend you the very clothes off my back if it were to help you.” I patted the bed. “Now, come on, get some sleep.”

The girl nodded her head and remained silent now. Her lips parted as she breathed softly through them. How is it she looked even more angelic when she was sleeping?

I decided to follow my own advice and attempt to get some sleep. While not comfortable, I didn’t care. I say against the bed, resting my head back against the soft mattress, my eyes closing, and my arms folded across my chest.

It took a while but I fell asleep before I knew it.

-=-

her pov;

I woke up with a sudden jerk, my body tensing as I sat up. A soft groan left my lips and I bawled up my hands to rub at my tired eyes. It was still completely dark out. The small window allowed little-to-no light inside which was nice if I was able to fall back asleep again. But a cold sweat broke over my body and I pulled the sheets off of me. The thick, suede coat I wore slipped from my shoulders and I let it pool around me. My arms wrapped around myself and I leaned back, closing my eyes.

No nightmare or bad dream clouded my sleep so I was unsure of why I was awake. What time was it even? From what I could see, the sun was invisible and the moon shined dimly in the starry, yet cloudy sky. I pursed my lips and continued to rub at my eyes before letting my vision trail down to the sleeping man beside the bed. Buggy, for whatever reason, was fast asleep while sitting upwards, his arms tucked around his chest. He was snoring. Maybe that's why I woke up.

Clenching my jaw, I turned over to face the wall, allowing my eyes to drift to a close as I tucked my hands underneath my cheek. I wanted to fall back asleep because it seemed to be either late at night or early in the morning. I couldn't tell. But when a loud crack of thunder sounded almost directly outside, I realized why I was awake. The echoes of pouring rain followed almost immediately after, the pellets of water drumming upon the tin roof. Normally, the sound would serenade me to sleep but I was wide awake. For hours, at least, I remained awake, staring at the wall in front of me. I tossed and turned, attempting to remain comfortable but the only way I could rest was with a pillow between me legs, and the ex-pirate's coat tucked underneath my head. I sighed and closed my eyes. The rain continued and soon, there was a shuffling heard from behind me. A groan left Buggy's lips as he seemed to be stirring from his sleep. Light finally shined in through the window, the shadow of the man behind me rising from his comfortable spot on the floor. I turned over, my eyes closed to show that I was still asleep, or pretending to me. I squinted my eyes to watch the man as he pushed himself up, groaning while stretching his arms. He cracked his neck and rubbed at his eyes, only continuing to smear the face makeup he wore proudly. His red nose was definitely different but I didn't understand why he needed to follow along with the stereotype and paint his face to match. He wasn't a clown.

"Are you awake, Y/N?" His raspy voice asked which resulted in my eyes gluing shut. The feeling of the sheets lifting off my body appeared before the blankets settled underneath my chin.

"I'm gonna go out for a bit, just to get stuff to eat and drink. I won't be long," He whispered. I peeked my right eye open, watching as he fumbled to put his clothing back on. He buttoned his vest, attached his belt, tied his bandana back around his neck, then pulled the red-and-white striped wrap from his blue hair, a sudden wave of thick, blue hair running down his back. My eyes widened at the sight. He had long hair? Since when?

Buggy swooped his hair back into a ponytail, twisting it in a loop, then tucked it back underneath his bandanna. I closed my eyes again, still completely flabbergasted. I never would've guessed he had long air. That's so shocking.

I only realized that he left when the stone door slammed slut.

I sat up and rubbed my eyes then crawled out of the bed, moving to stand on my feet. Since I was his guest, I decided to tidy up while he was out. I started by making the bed, tucking the sheets and fluffing the pillows to make the bed look comfortable and well-made. Then I moved on to wiping down the nightstand. It was dusty and rather dirty but I wasn't one to judge. I moved on to cleaning the lantern before opening the drawer below. Inside were a few pairs of jewelry and a stack of books. I smirked. Buggy reads?

I sat down and pulled the novels out. I sorted through them, finding nothing to be eye-catching- just boring books about boring subjects. I pushed myself onto my knees and went to tuck the books back into the drawer but something caught my eye. I raised an eyebrow and pulled out a folded piece of crumpled paper. The edges were slightly burnt and torn. I pulled it apart and flattened it before turning it around.

My eyes widened.

Before I could properly react, the door pushed into the hinges, creating a loud noise like metal scraping against metal. I scrambled to hide the paper back underneath the books and I closed the drawer. Just as I stood up, the door slammed open and there Buggy stood with a parcel of fruits and two jugs of orange juice. "Oh, look who's awake," He said with a small smile as he kicked the door closed behind him.

I gulped hard and sat down on the bed.

"Did you sleep okay?"

"Y-Yeah, I did," I whispered in reply.

He cocked an eyebrow up, looking to be puzzled by my sudden disturbed exterior. Dropping the items down on the countertop, he started to tear into the bags. "I figured you'd be hungry so I got you some stuff to munch on for breakfast. I got apples, too. Don't worry, they're not rotten." He chuckled.

"Thanks."

"What do you want? I can make you a plate." He looked at me as he started to cut into one of the fruits.

"I'm not hungry."

"What? You don't want anything to eat? Not even some orange juice?"

"No, I'm fine."

Buggy opened his mouth, his eyebrows scrunching together as he approached me. He squatted down and grabbed my arms, almost to hold himself up and to show me how serious he was. "What's wrong?"

Shaking my head, I declined whatever he meant. "Nothing, I'm fine."

"No, something is wrong. Tell me," He instructed, his face remaining cold and serious, as if he were trying to interrogate me- like I committed some horrendous crime and he wanted me to come clean. I continued to reassure him, lying to him but for whatever reason, he saw right through my guise and gripped my arms. "Y/N, please tell me. Why do you seem so scared?" He frowned then his eyes grew wide. He dropped his hands. "Did I do something?"

I remained quiet, a frown stuck to my lips.

"Please just tell me."

I opened my mouth but nothing came out. The blue-haired man frowned and stood up, letting go of me. "Fine, don't tell me then." His eyes rolled and he approached the counter again, continuing to slice into the fruits. He seemed angry- very angry. The knife was practically slamming into the apple. "See if I care." He continued to talk. "My fault for trying to help you. Last time I'll do that."

A sullen look crossed my face and I looked down at my lap then back toward the bedside table. I reached for the handle. Buggy watched me and he scowled. "What are you doing?"

I jerked my hand back and frowned. "I promise I wasn't snooping."

"What do you mean?" He tossed a slice of apple into his mouth.

"I was cleaning up a bit. I made the bed and I dusted your nightstand."

"Okay?" He raised an eyebrow, now slowly chewing. "Thank you?"

"And- And I was looking in the drawer and I found-"

"What did you find?" He looked skeptical and he dropped the knife.

"Your wanted poster."

#captain buggy #x reader #buggy #opla fanart #buggy the genius jester #buggy one piece #buggy the clown #buggy x reader #buggy smut #op buggy #one piece buggy #one piece live action #live action buggy the clown #buggy the flashy fool #opla buggy #buggy x you #buggy x y/n

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cannedpickledpeaches · 18 days

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Insert Your Name (7)

Mafia!Jade Leech x Mafia!Reader

Link to part one, two, three, four, five, six, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve!

Notes and TW: Jade doesn't care much about the hierarchy of the mafia when it comes to you. This series will have mentions of blood, violence, crime (kidnapping, attempted assassination, extortion), and harassment, as one might expect from a mafia AU. Please enjoy!

Tags: @guava-writes @itszzmoon @twstsandturns @myteacupisempty @rou-luxe @chikitasmol

It’s a common song and dance. Small organizations sometimes come to the Leech Mafia in hopes of garnering support for their coups. Walrus asked Jade to “lend” you to her. You’re more surprised at her audacity than her motivations.

“You’re trying to replace the Carpenter?” You occasionally see the leader of the Carpenter Mafia at formal functions. A tall, thin man with a disproportionately large head and wheedling voice. Friendly and charismatic on the surface, but known for his underhanded methods of luring people in, stranding them, and devouring them. An insatiable man who takes as much as he can get his hands on.

“Yes, so I humbly came to ask for help.” She places a hand on her chest and furrows her brows. “The Carpenter is a money-obsessed, greedy man who exploits all those who fall into his trap. I can’t watch him go on anymore. Call me a hopeful idiot, but I think with enough determination, even seven maids with seven mops could clear all the sand on a beach in half a year.”

If you were someone else entirely, maybe you would have fallen for her act. That pained look on her face and her poetic description of her tenacity could move a heart made of stone. However, you’ve spent a major portion of your life knowing Jade. You could recognize that duplicitous sorrow anywhere.

“What kind of mafia doesn’t have any suffering?” You won’t pretend the Leech Mafia is a good organization, either. There are monetary benefits, but mafias are built on cruelty, discipline, and fear of the pecking order. For example, if you dislike the way something was done, you have the authority to make sure the offending soldier who carried out the task disappears by sunset.

Walrus smiles. “I strive to create an organization where we can depend on each other.”

“And you want me to help you, huh. Is that why you told your men to attack me? It was a test to see if I meet your expectations.”

“You’re so cute, you know that? You ask questions when you already know the answer. I hope I didn’t upset you.”

No wonder why Jade looks so displeased. He likes to play pranks of that nature on you as well, but he becomes defensive when anyone else tries. What a hypocrite.

“I’m not upset.” As two-faced as Walrus is, you find that you don’t hate it. In the underbelly of society, this is what it takes to not only survive, but to claw your way to the top. In her own way, she is admirable. “Well, tell us what you want and what you’ll give us. This is a negotiation, right?”

“I’m just asking for the basics. Soldiers and weapons, that’s all. Can you spare me a hundred men?” She asks this nonchalantly, but surely she must know the weight of her question. One hundred men on land when the Leech Mafia operates mainly in the Coral Sea is a tall order. Such a number would impact your own operations in the Queendom of Roses. Again, this is expected. When you have more to lose in a negotiation, it is standard to ask for more than what you hope for.

“What a daring question. You are also quite the greedy person, Walrus.” Jade folds his hands on his desk. “Surely you have prepared something of equal value.”

“Of course.” Walrus pulls out a twisting gold wand inlaid with a red jewel. With a flick of her wrist, an image of a man appears in the air. “This is the man who cursed your parents, Jade Leech.”

A shadow passes over his face. This must be a bluff. How are you supposed to believe her when she declared such a thing without proof? To your surprise, Jade does not challenge her claim.

“That matches my findings.” Jade lowers his chin, his sharp gaze scrutinizing her. “What of it?”

“He’s dead. Carpenter personally got rid of him. No use for someone who managed to screw up an assassination, right?” She taps her wand to the image. It becomes a map with a glowing red dot south of the Coral Sea. “One of my friends has a Signature Spell that can analyze dead bodies. If we get his corpse, she should be able to figure out exactly what curse was cast on your parents. His body was dumped around here in the ocean, so you’ll need to retrieve it.”

Jade’s shoulders tense. You glance at the rigid line of his jaw. Softly, you place your hand on his shoulder blade. Calm down. A beat passes. He takes a breath and relaxes his muscles.

“Your proposal is hypothetical. There is no guarantee your friend will be able to deduce what spell was used. In the scenario which she does, there still remains the question of whether or not it can be cured.”

“It’s better than knowing nothing, right? I’ve been working for you for a month. I know there’s been no progress with your parents’ condition.” Her eyes glint. “Honestly, you should be happy to get any kind of lead.”

She has a way with words. At this rate, she will gain the upper hand of the negotiation. You stand still and believe in Jade and his silver tongue. He is not the type of person who will walk away from a discussion having lost more than he gained.

“You knew about the attempt on my parents’ lives, and yet you did nothing while under our employment.” Jade leans forward in his seat and stares her down. “Why didn’t you tell us you knew something about it? Withholding information from us until you can use it as a bargaining chip . . . I’m hurt, Walrus. It will be difficult for us to form a relationship of good faith anymore. If you had told us before it happened, we could have prevented such a tragedy in the first place. From that angle, is it not your fault that my parents were saddled with such an unfortunate ailment?”

Twisting her words and the situation until it benefits him is child’s play for Jade. No matter how contrived that reasoning may seem, at the end of the day, Walrus is the one who desperately needs resources from the Leech Mafia. As long as he does not forget who has the upper hand, he will certainly get his way.

“Of course,” Jade continues, offering her a way out, “I believe in second chances. If you take responsibility and pitch in to find a way to undo the curse, I will have no qualms in lending you my support in your upcoming coup.”

In the end, Walrus has no choice but to concede. There are other groups she could turn to, but creating good relations with the Leech Mafia can only help her if she wishes to gain influence. A weak, unstable group after an internal struggle is easy prey for older, already established syndicates to absorb. She needs their support to avoid a short-lived victory.

Walrus leaves with a promise of seventy men and enough weapons to supply them. As soon as she’s out the door, your mind drifts to the manuscript again. It briefly mentions that the Leech Mafia’s influence spreads after their parents wake up. Maybe this inner turmoil in the Carpenter Mafia causes that expansion. No details were ever given in the manuscript. When you read it over, you had the impression that the author did not have the slightest inkling towards the politics and inner workings of a mafia.

You find yourself stepping back towards the wall as you think. Your body yearns to curl up in the window seat in the attic. Part of you wants to hide up there right now and digest this information. There is so much to think about now. The division of resources, the men you’re going to lend to Walrus, the compensation for the lack of manpower in some of the Leech territory on land . . . .

A hand rests on your waist and reels you in towards the side of Jade’s chair. The perpetrator gives you an imploring look.

“If you need a space to sit, would my lap suffice?”

A few moments ago, you thought Walrus had audacity. Jade outmatches her.

“No, I’ll go up to the attic instead.”

“May I come with you?”

“Seven, you’re so persistent.” You heave a sigh and motion for him to shift so that you can sit comfortably on his lap. His smile grows unbelievably smug as you take a seat, purposely putting your full weight on him. He doesn’t show the slightest hint of discomfort.

It becomes easier to think when you have something pressed against your back. His arms surround you, providing a small space for you to retreat in your mind without any worries. Sturdy and secure like the face of a cliff or the trunk of a tree, safe despite the threat you know he is capable of being. No matter. You were the one who said you would trust him. And now that you’ve let your guard down, you find that you feel rather cozy.

“You’re being weirdly clingy today.” You notice he still hasn’t let go of your waist. “When Walrus asked for my help, you were so adamant on refusing. I could’ve gone, you know. We would’ve had a reason to lend her less soldiers.”

He huffs. “I have told you before. Have you already forgotten? There is no need for you to dirty your hands with filth.”

It takes you a moment to recall when he last said those words: outside Azul’s home while Floyd beat the living daylights out of Barry Moore. You should never have to lift a finger. Just keep making others do your dirty work.

“What’s your problem with me fighting every so often? I’m not against it.”

Jade rests his head on your shoulder. He’s been getting bolder ever since you promised him your trust.

“If you want to, I would not stop you. But I can tell you prefer to stay holed up somewhere and wrack your brain instead of using your fists. In situations where violence is necessary, you often order someone else to do it unless you are the only one around. Regardless, I would support you to the best of my ability whether you wish to scheme or massacre.” He sighs into your shirt. “I was already quite upset that I did not manage to stop Walrus’s men from ambushing you. It put our negotiations at risk.”

“You were going to refuse her terms just because of that?” It’s not like Jade to make such an illogical decision for something that doesn’t even bring him entertainment. In fact . . . “I would’ve thought that watching me struggle in a fight would be interesting to you.”

“Of course it is.” His chest rumbles against your back. Your eyebrow twitches. Laughter? The nerve! “But I would rather you struggle in a situation that I’ve created, which I can stop whenever I wish.”

“So you only like my suffering when you’re in control of everything about it?”

“Let’s not call it suffering. Challenging obstacles, if you will. But yes.” His eyelashes flutter against your cheek. “If it is ever necessary to truly put your life at risk, it means that I have failed in some capacity.”

You should be grateful to hear those words. But some part of you sours. Why is he so bent on protecting you? You aren’t weak. Your Signature Spell’s primary function is to shield you from physical injuries. Fighting comes naturally to you. In fact, when you met the twins, you were the one who fought for Jade. Sort of. You even extorted him afterwards. And in the Leech Mafia, it is your job to protect him.

“I don’t need to be protected.”

“You are correct.” He nuzzles his face into your neck. “You have survived for this long in the mafia. I don’t try to keep you from harm because you are incompetent—far from it, actually. I do so because you are too competent. You take on more and more difficult work, increasing your chances of getting hurt, but you do not stop and consider how seeing you injured may throw me into disarray—”

He suddenly pauses. You think you get the gist of it. His parents still lie unconscious in hospital beds. Perhaps a small part of him blames himself for not being careful enough. Even you sometimes lie awake wondering if there was anything you could have done to prevent it. If only you took that manuscript seriously sooner. If only you had been more vigilant. If only, if only, if only. Do you dare to assume he’s worried about you as well?

Jade’s fingers tighten on your waist. “I want to make sure you are safe and comfortable. If you will allow me, I will do anything in my power to ensure it happens. Scheme and plot, stew in your thoughts, give orders like a tyrant. I will be your hands and feet so that you never have to endanger yourself. It is only a selfish desire of mine that you will never be harmed.”

“So, if I’m understanding correctly, you’re saying you care about me?”

He chuckles. “Is it something that needs to be said?”

Answering a question with a question. Typical.

“Tell me properly.”

“Relentless as always.” He relaxes his grip. “I care about you. More than you think.”

“You said you wouldn’t lie to me anymore.” There’s enough sincerity in his voice that you don’t have to confirm. A part of you just wants to hear him say it.

“I was not lying, then or now.” Jade’s arms wind around your torso and hold you close. “I have always been truthful on this subject, and this is no lie, either.”

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #jade leech #twst jade #twst fanfic #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #mafia au #multi chap fic #slow burn

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writerofadream · 4 months

Text

Fortune favors the Bold Masterlist⛓

TDI!Duncan x Juvie Bestfriend! Reader Masterlist ⛓

Chapter One: Pilot

Chapter Two: Meet the Stars

Chapter Three: Under the Sea

Chapter Four: Dinner is Served (Or is it lunch?)

Chapter Five: Hug me (Or kiss me)

Chapter Six: Sleepless in Seattle (Or was it Canada?)

Chapter Seven: Dodgeball to the Death

Chapter Eight: Talent? Where? Certainly not here.

Chapter Nine: Wilderness Survival Camp (Again?)

Chapter Ten: How ba-a-a-d can I be?

Chapter Eleven: Shoot me (Do it)

Chapter Twelve: Bubbling up

Chapter Thirteen: Princess and the Frog

Chapter Fourteen: She's a maneater (But he loves it)

Chapter Fifteen: Tip me over (Pour me out)

Chapter Sixteen: Cooking is a way of life

Chapter Seventeen: The price is never right

Chapter Eighteen: Tequila under the stars

Chapter Nineteen: Who's the top? (your MOM-)

Chapter Twenty: Welcome back to traumatized kids weekly, I'm your host-

Chapter Twenty-One: The kids we left behind

Chapter Twenty Two: WHY AM I DREAMING OF US MARRIED (Your in love idiot is that why?)

Chapter Twenty Three: Yes, I'd like to purchase one racoon mom. Yes, her name is Lily.

Chapter Twenty Four: This is my boyfriend's, boyfriend, Geoff-

Chapter Twenty Five: He's like whiskey, she's like champange

Epilogue: Lilly Tarun

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averageanonymous · 4 months

Text

Summary: Crowley realizes that the only way to save Aziraphale might be to follow his lead.

☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

Crowley sits at the edge of the sea. Chalk-white cliffs stretch to either side of him. Salt-heavy wind tugs at his hair, his clothes, and he closes his eyes and breathes it deep into his lungs.

You could come back. To heaven.

His eyes snap open, yellow irises blown wide, erasing the humanity from his gaze. He bares his teeth, jaw clenching so hard it aches as the memories assault him, the same conversation on endless repeat behind his eyes. He grabs the first thing his hand touches, a large black stone, and hurls it. He watches it soar out over the ocean before it falls with barely a splash in the crashing waves.

"Damn it," he hisses, dropping his head into his hands, gripping fistfuls of his auburn hair until his scalp begins to protest. Seven days since Aziraphale left. It might as well have been months, years, for how the time seems to have stretched before him, well and truly alone for the first time in six millennia. His entire being aches vaguely, as though the absence of the angel tore something from him, ripped a hole somewhere within. It's the kind of wound that he knows won't heal. Not with time, or distance. Not with any distraction or attempt to forget.

He finally drops his hands back into his lap and sighs, a bone-deep, weary sigh that feels like it's dragging his very soul to the surface. He counters it with another deep inhale of the ocean-soaked air. When his eyes open again, the serpent has receded. He lifts his gaze to the sky, a muted blue studded with gray clouds that threaten rain.

"What were you thinking, angel," Crowley asks the sky in a hoarse voice, gravelly with disuse. He thinks of Aziraphale, in heaven, surrounded by the same feathered dicks that would have seen him exterminated in Hellfire, working with the damn Metatron, and his heart threatens to eject itself straight from his chest. "What the hell were you thinking?"

His every single instinct screams to Save Him. March straight into Heaven's hallowed halls and find the angel, throw him over his shoulder and take the elevator directly back to Earth, SAYONARA SUCKERS.

But he can't. His angel doesn't want to be saved. Not this time.

If I'm in charge... I can make a difference.

"Do you really think so," Crowley speculates idly to no one, "You think one angel, even an Archangel, even The Supreme Archangel, can stand in the way of the machine? Derail The Great Plan?" He shakes his head. Aziraphale is many things, intelligent to a fault, determined to the end. And the truth of it is that he's actually not an idiot. But he can't possibly believe... not really...

But he does, doesn't he. Because Aziraphale also has faith. And hope. And he does believe, believes with his whole soul, that there is goodness at the heart of Heaven, if he can just chisel through the thousands of years of crystallized corruption to get to it. To make a better world. A world where Heaven isn't standing over it - over them - with a flaming sword, ready to end everything.

A world where, maybe, they could be together.

Together. That's what he had said.

We can be together.

I need you.

Crowley grasps those words in his mind, clings to them like a lifeline, and holds them tight. Those words feel pure. They feel like truth. Aziraphale had to have known he would never return to Heaven. But he asked anyway. And he left despite Crowley's refusal to join him. Why?

Because, Crowley reminds himself, Aziraphale is an angel of principle. An angel who fights for what he believes in. Aziraphale is up there, fighting, right now. Crowley's hands tighten into fists. He feels his body shaking with the effort of trying to remain calm. It's not working.

Aziraphale is fighting, even though that meant he had to leave everything behind... Even though it meant leaving Crowley behind... He did it because it was the right thing to do.

Crowley gets to his feet abruptly. Aziraphale is fighting, and what is he doing? Maybe he can't be an angel himself, and maybe he can't steal his angel back from Heaven. But he doesn't have to sit around and wait for The End Of The World to happen. There is something he can do. If Aziraphale is determined to try to take down Upstairs from the inside, why can't he do the same from Downstairs? After all, Hell is absent its Grand Duke, and he always knew he would look damn good in a crown.

Crowley lets the Serpent take hold of him once again, golden eyes glowing, teeth sharpening into venom-soaked fangs. Snake skin accents his arms, creeps up the back of his neck, and his fingers are tipped with black claws. Finally, he allows his ink-black wings to unfurl. If he's going to be a Demon Prince of Hell, he had better look the part.

The wind gusts around him, and suddenly there is no one on the cliff overlooking the sea, and no sign anyone ever was, save a circle of scorched earth to mark the descension of a demon to Hell.

☆~☆~☆~☆~☆

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this foray into my imagination.

This started as "Crowley sits on a cliff" and this is where it went. Which was a totally different direction than I'd initially imagined. I guess what it comes down to is that, while I love some Angsty Crowley, I don't want him to mope forever. And I don't want him to be stuck thinking Aziraphale left because he didn't love him. He knows Az better than that! And, to be honest, I LOVE the idea of Crowley as Az's celestial opposite, Grand Duke of Hell, taking on the system from both sides. Dunno. Sounds fun to me.

#good omens #crowley #fanfic #gomens #duke of hell crowley #good omens fanfiction #aziracrow #aziraphale

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only-angel-28 · 6 months

Text

mastermind, part five

hey guys😀🔫

first of all im so sorry ik its been literally ten years since the last update but we're backk😋🙌🙌

anyways this used to be called redbone but im changing it to mastermind (the taylor song) bc i feel like it just fits more w the story but heres part five!!

its a short one for now but dw part six and seven are in the making and theyll probably be out later tonight or early tomorrow morning idk

anyways i hope you like this one please lmk and leave me some requests😋🤞

mastermind, masterlist

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“Good morning,” Harry says, smiling brightly as Hermione and I sit at the table.

“Morning,” we both reply in unison, Hermioen going to say something but is cut off when our attention darts to the old owl that all but crashes into our food on the table, sending bowls of cereal and plates of toast flying into the air.

“Ron! Get your owl in check!” I yell as Hermione magics away the spilt milk on my robes, leaving them brand new.

“Sorry, sorry. God this bird’s going to be the death of me.” Ron replies as he detaches the box in the owl's claws before shooing it away.

“What’s that?” Harry asks, pointing at the box curiously as Ron goes to open it and pulls out a long black robe with white ruffles at the collar.

“Mum’s sent me a dress!” Ron says in horror as he stares down at the old thing.

“Well, it does match your eyes. Is there a bonnet? Aha!” I shout through my laughter, pulling out a white collar with a black bow and holding it up at Ron’s neck.

“Oh shut up Y/N. You’re not funny.” Ron says dismissively as he walks over to Ginny and continues,

“Ginny here, these must be for you.”

“I’m not wearing that, it’s ghastly.” she says looking up at the dress in disgust.

Hermione lets out a fit of giggles as Harry and I smack each other, laughing at Ron, unable to control ourselves.

“What are you on about?” Ron asks confused.

“They’re not for Ginny, you idiot, they’re for you!” I shout as the Gryffindors around us join in on the laughter.

“They’re dress robes,” Hermione adds, calming down slightly.

“Dress robes, for what?” Ron responds with frustration in his voice.

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“The Yule Ball has been a Hogwarts tradition since its inception,” McGonagall’s voice booms in the large room filled with girls on one side and boys on the other. Hermione and I softly giggle as we make small quips about how uncomfortable Harry and Ron look, having to sit next to Theo and Draco.

“On Christmas Eve night, we gather in the Great Hall for a night of well-mannered frivolity,” she says as she glides around the room, eyeing Harry and Draco as they make faces at each other, causing them to stop almost immediately.

“I expect each and every one of you to put your best foot forward. And I mean this literally as the Yule Ball is, as you know, first and foremost, a dance,” she says, sending the girls into excited conversations and the boys into a sea of annoying groans.

“Silence!” she shouts over the noise, clapping her hands together over her head, “Our school has commanded the respect of the wizarding world for over 10 centuries. And I will not have you, in the course of a single evening, besmirching that name by behaving like a babbling, bumbling band of baboons.” she finishes, sending everyone into quiet laughter. I look up from my fixed gaze at McGonagall at Theo who snickers softly and looks at me before mouthing, “Try saying that five times fast.”

I smirk as I try whispering it as he does the same, before McGonagall walks over in front of us, breaking our gazes at each other. “Now, to dance,” she says, waving her arms around gracefully, turning to the girl's side, saying, “is to let the body breathe. Inside every girl, a secret swan slumbers…longing to burst forth and take flight.”

She turns to the boys, cutting off whatever snide remark Ron was making, “Inside every boy, a lordly lion prepared to prance. Mr Weasley.”

She walks over to Ron swiftly as he cowers slightly, looking immensely uncomfortable as she asks him to join her.

“...Yes?”

Harry looks over at Hermione and me and we smirk at Ron as McGonagall lectures him how to put his hands on her waist.

They dance for a minute before McGonagall calls everyone over and tells us to partner up, and Theo comes up to me with a hand behind his back. “Join me for this dance?” he says jokingly as he bows forward slightly and puts one hand out making me smile and reach out for his hand before I swiftly grab Harry’s from behind him and say, “Sorry maybe next time!” over my shoulder, sending him into laughter, shaking his head as Harry looks up at me quizzingly.

“Leaving him wanting more?” he smiles at me, “Yep, I learned from the best.” I joke, referencing the endless amounts of times Harry and Ginny have gotten close but have never made anything official.

He rolls his eyes and says, “Shut up.”

“Have you even asked her yet?” I ask as we sway to the music, “Not yet, I think I’ll do it tonight…if Ron doesn’t interrupt us again that is.”

“Don’t worry,” I say nodding my head over to the other side of the room where Ron and Hermione are trying to dance, “I think he’s got other things to worry about.”

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“We really need to get a move on, otherwise we’ll be the only ones without dates,” Ron whispers to Harry as we try and recreate the potion Slughorn’s just shown us.

Harry doesn’t say anything as he smiles to himself and focuses back on his potion, making me smile softly in return knowing he’s probably asked Ginny by now and she's said yes.

“What are you smiling about?” Theo asks, interrupting me from my thoughts as he adds fluxweed into our potion and looks at me confusingly. “No reason.” I smile up at him, noticing the ring I gave him on his finger.

“So,” I say, taking my seat as we wait for our potion to boil.

“So?” he replies, taking his seat next to me and resting the bottom side of his jaw in his hand with his elbow on the table, staring at me with his blue eyes.

“Yule Ball’s in a few days, have you found a date yet?”

“Mm no not yet. Why do you ask?” he smirks.

“Oh no, no reason.” I stutter, feeling embarrassed, as I try to distract myself with the brew in front of us.

“So your bruises have healed,” I say, reaching out and holding his face to the side to examine the area they used to be on top of his sharp cheekbone. “Mhm. All better now.” He smiles.

I sigh and say, “You shouldn’t have done that you know.” “Why not? I’d do it for Blaise or Pansy or even Draco, I’d do it for any of my friends, so why not you? Especially you.” he mutters the last bit silently but my ears catch it before it disappears, making blood rush to my ears and cheeks.

“A friendship between a Gryffindor and Slytherin is unheard of. Especially considering your family and my best friends, what makes you so confident in ours?”

“I don’t know. You’re…different,” he says, standing up, “You’re not like those other Gryffindors. They’re too proud.”

I laugh after him, gathering my own things as he goes to give Slughorn our finished potion, “You Slytherin lot aren’t all that humble anyways.”

“No Star, we just know our worth.” he winks back at me as he leaves and I notice something on his side of the desk. A little envelope with my name on it.

I open it to find,

“Meet me in the Astronomy Tower after curfew. Bring a jacket.”

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“You took your time,” Theo says as I walk up the stairs, holding two cups of hot chocolate for him and me.

“Shut up, I was bribing one of the elves to give me whipped cream in these this time.” I hold one of the drinks up to him to take it before he grabs both out my hands and puts them down on the floor,

“You shouldn’t have, we won’t need them.” He smiles mischievously before taking my hand and running down the large, empty corridors.

“Theo stop! Where are we going?!” I whisper yell out of surprise, grabbing his hand tighter as I run to keep up with him. “You’ll see!” He says over his shoulder, leading us out the castle and giving a few galleons to the prefect keeping watch at the door.

“Come on,” he says softly now, both of us panting from the run.

The cold wind hits me in the face and immediately sends a shiver up my spine, making me pull my jacket up slightly to cover my exposed neck.

Theo lets go of my hand and pulls his black, green and silver Slytherin scarf off and wraps the cloth around my neck,

“Theo, will you stop being a prick and at least tell me where we’re going?”

He grabs my arm and links it in with his before saying, “We’re almost there.”

I look up at him as we walk in comfortable silence, the soft moonlight reflecting on his sharp features, his rosy cheeks and the cold vapour coming from his pink nose as he breathes and he turns to me giving me a big smile as he stops walking, turns me around and covers my eyes.

“Theo what now? You drag me out of the warm castle and make me freeze out here in the stupid snow and you didn’t even let me drink my hot chocolate and you won’t even tell me where we’re going and I’m probably going to get hypothermia at this point because of you.” I finish my rant as he turns me around, slowly removing his cold fingers from my eyes.

“Shut up and open your eyes, you drama queen.”

I can hear the smile in his voice as I open my eyes and see a big tree with a covering on top, looking like a den adorned in fairy lights and snowflake decorations. A red checkered picnic blanket resting on the ground along with my favourite pastries, hot chocolates and movies all set up on a projector facing the castle. Snowflakes all form one sentence above the movie projector screen playing Tangled, making my breath stop and a huge grin form on my lips.

Will you get tangled with me at the ball?

I turn around to find a flustered-looking Theodore with his hands in his pocket, nervously looking down at me waiting for my reaction. “You did this?” I ask with a quizzical smile on my face, still in disbelief that he went through all this effort for me.

“Yeah. Well I mean Blaise, Mattheo and Pansy helped me. Draco tried but he wasn’t any good so I got Pansy to instead. And I asked Hermione for all your favourite movies and I’ve seen you with all these pastries and hot chocolates a lot this time of year so I thought you’d like them. But I mean if you don’t that’s perfectly fine, I can scrap it all and we can pretend like this never happened and-”

“Yes.” I interrupt his rant with a smile on my face, admiring his stress over whether I’d like the gesture or not.

“And I- Sorry?” He asks breaking his rant confusingly with his eyebrows furrowed.

“Yes, I love it and I’d love to go to the ball with you Theodore.”

“Oh, I- Okay well. Okay. That’s great, that’s…Wow.” He stutters out, surprised at my response.

Theodore Nott stuttering? Nervous? When did that happen? I think to myself as he composes himself again and asks, “Shall we?” pointing to the blanket and movie playing on the projector.

I nod, smiling brightly up at him as I give him a side hug. He tenses for a moment before wrapping his arms around me and hugging back tightly.

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part five done!!

lmk what you think and send me requests<33

taglist:

@harrysnovia @timmytime17 @cherry-hoe @jetblackpayne @ash-tarte @coolestgirlhere @lilianelena39

#theodore nott x reader angst #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x reader fluff #theodore nott x y/n #theo nott x reader #theo nott #theodore nott #harry potter #hermione granger #ron weasley #draco malfoy #pansy parkinson #harry potter and the half blood prince #theodore nott x y/n fluff #the yule ball #theodore nott x y/n angst #fics #fanfic

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asahicore · 1 year

Text

sex on the beach - hamada asahi (m)

this work contains smut - minors please do not interact

pairing. bf!asahi x fem!reader

synopsis. You and your boyfriend are horny multiple times during your stay with your friends at Jaehyuk's beach house. That's it. That's the plot.

genre. summer au, established relationship, smut literally just smut but also fluff, you get jealous!asahi, you get needy!asahi, you get dom!asahi, you get super duper in love totally whipped for his gf!asahi, you get everything you want because i'm in love with this man, ig both asahi n reader are switches, this gets like..fairly dirty so beware, i tried to make the friends funny so comedy as well but don't quote me on that, also enhypen hyung line makes an appearance in this cause why not

word count. 14.1k

a/n. if you somehow still don't know this about me, i am in love with asahi. re-reading and editing this was a real fun time so i hope you guys like it and i hope that those of you who are whipped for him as i am think i did bf!sahi justice. pls lmk ur thoughts !! bye bye love you stay safe don't settle for weak stupid red-flag men when a whole hamada asahi exists have high standards besties

One perk of having a rich friend? They always, always have a beach house.

You’d first met Jaehyuk and Sieun in your first year of college, when you and Asahi were in the final talking stages of your budding relationship and he’d wanted to introduce you to his two closest friends. Soon thereafter, he met your own friends, namely Mashiho and Sumin, and when they all gave the other the seal of approval and you and Asahi finally started dating (after six long months of being idiots and blindly pining for the other, but that’s another story for another time), the six of you became somewhat of a loving family.

Well, one of the first things Asahi had told you about Jaehyuk was how filthy rich he was. Being the eldest son and therefore heir to the top law firm of the country came with great responsibility but also great wealth, and even if he didn’t make it painfully obvious that he was more than well-off, one still knew the money was there in the never-tarnished shoes, the new watch every week, the slicked-back hair, and, of course, the many residences his family owned and he always mentioned casually, as if any other person also had seven homes all over the world.

But you weren’t going to complain, were you? Not when he so easily bought dinner for all six of you, paid for multiple of your monthly subscriptions and invited you all to spend two weeks at his beach house this summer without batting an eye. No need to pay for groceries either, he’d said. And he’d drive you all there in his 8-seat SUV.

Your first summer of being friends, you’d made the mistake of planning an August vacation in June, so the second time around, you made sure to prepare everything in advance so that everyone would be free at the same time. You were always excited to travel with your family, but this was your first time going a trip solely with your friends, rather than inviting a friend on your family vacation or the other way around, and your feet were itching to touch the warm white sand and dip in the deep blue sea that were waiting for you right behind Jaehyuk’s house.

The four-hour drive there feels like it lasted thirty minutes, all of you hyped on iced coffee and sheer excitement as music blasted through the car speakers. Jaehyuk and Sumin sat at the front, Mashiho and Sieun behind them, and you and Asahi in the furthest back seats. When you weren’t all having one big conversation about probably not-so-important topics that you took very seriously as you usually did, you were chatting in small groups, you and Asahi playing with each other’s fingers at the back like middle schoolers that just started dating.

Although some of the tension died down at the two-and-a-half-hour mark of the drive, it all comes back in the last thirty minutes, all of you keen to get out of the car and into the house that looked magnificent in the pictures and videos Jaehyuk had shown you.

The front courtyard behind the massive white gilded gate is big enough to require its own little roundabout for easier entry and exit of the house - actually, now that you’re here and can see it with your own two eyes, villa sounds more appropriate. Jaehyuk has barely parked his car that you’re all scrambling out of your seatbelts and running behind the house to find the path that leads to the beach, not even bothering to take your stuff out of the trunk.

Once you reach the beach, four of you stand there, panting happily and gazing out at the sea. “It’s the sea,” Sumin muses in a wonderstruck voice and everyone laughs at the obviousness of the statement. After some minutes, you look around and notice that Jaehyuk and Asahi hadn’t followed you, so you tell the others you should head back. You trudge back to the house only to find that the two boys have already unpacked everything and Jaehyuk is putting the snacks you’d brought for the trip away while Asahi sits on the couch and scrolls through Instagram, needing a rest after sitting for four hours in the car.

“Right, guys,” Jaehyuk calls out from the living room after unlocking the door upon seeing the four of you approach. You immediately head towards your boyfriend and sit down on the couch next to him, his arm coming up to rest on your shoulder and bring you closer to him. “Let’s choose our rooms.”

Mashiho chuckles, and by the look on his face, you can tell he’s got a stupid idea. “Rock, paper, scissors, loser gets the room next to Asahi and Y/N’s,” he says, making everybody groan in annoyance.

“We’re not animals, you know. We won’t be screaming and banging on the walls,” Asahi defends without looking up.

Sieun sighs and shakes her wrists out, getting ready for the game. “Someone remind me why we invited a couple to our trip?” she says, completely ignoring Asahi.

“Because we’re your dear friends that you love so much and wouldn’t want to spend such a nice vacation without,” you reply, voice saccharine sweet and batting your lashes at your group of friends, but they all just roll their eyes and chuckle sarcastically.

“There’s no need for that, anyway,” Jaehyuk says. “We’ve got eight rooms, so nobody needs to sleep in a room near them.” Your head and Asahi’s snap towards the other directly, looking at each other with a surprised but excited expression. No one in the room needs words to know what you’re thinking - it means that you won’t have to keep too quiet - and your friends groan again.

“Asahi, don’t forget what you just said, yeah?” Sumin warns. “If I have to hear the two of you fornicating, I’ll jump from the upstairs balcony.”

“Dear God,” Jaehyuk sighs. “Follow me, I’ll show you guys the room.”

Downstairs lodges one en-suite, which Jaehyuk takes, and two bedrooms that are joined by the bathroom, which Sumin and Sieun take. Upstairs, there is one en-suite at each end of the hall, so naturally you and Asahi take one while Mashiho takes the other one. And if, on a whim, you decided to invite three more people, you could lodge them in the three separate bedrooms and they could use the upstairs bathroom, one of the biggest you’ve ever seen in your life.

You gasp as soon as you open the door to what will be your bedroom for the next two weeks. “God, Sahi, this room is huge,” is your immediate reaction. At this late afternoon hour, the sunlight pours directly through the sliding glass doors, bathing the white room in a golden glow and warming the carpeted floor, soft under your bare feet. The glass doors lead to a balcony which overlooks the backyard and its pool, and more importantly, the beach and the sea - an impressive view that you don’t think you’ll get tired of. You set your bags next to the king-sized bed that is probably enough to fit four sleeping bodies, which means you and Asahi will be able to spread out and not suffer too much from heavy summer night sweating. There are two small couches and a coffee table in front of the balcony, the kind that rich people have to fill the empty space rather than actually use. One door leads into a walking closet and another into the bathroom, which has both a bathtub and an Italian-style shower, as well as a toilet, two sinks and a mirror that takes up almost the whole wall.

You’re looking around the bathroom, opening and closing random drawers above and underneath the sink, when you feel a pair of arms wrapping themselves around your middle. You look up in the mirror to find your boyfriend standing behind you, a soft, sleepy-looking smile on his face. You watch him watching you for a bit, until he buries his face in the crook of your neck and takes a deep inhale there, then presses a soft kiss to your skin. “We’re going to have a lot of fun here,” he murmurs.

“Here as in this room or here as in this vacation?” you tease and he looks up at your reflection in the mirror again, locking his gaze in yours.

“Both,” he says after a small pause, which makes your grin widen.

“I think so too,” you say and turn around, hooking your arms around his neck and leaning in for a kiss, which his body responds instantly to. After a year and a half of dating, there is no more hesitation when your lips touch - both of you know exactly what to do and how to do it. Yet, the excitement never fades, and your whole body tingles every time you find each other like this, as if it was the first time, but a thousand times better.

Maybe it’s the hours of being in each other’s close vicinity without being able to do anything that make your kisses open-mouthed and hungry, or maybe it’s just your need for each other that never really wanes. You smile into the kiss as Asahi picks you up by the hips and lifts you onto the bathroom counter, your legs opening to let him stand between them as they wrap themselves around him, bringing him even closer. His hands sneak themselves underneath your light t-shirt, caressing and grabbing at the soft flesh of your sides while your own find purchase in his hair, slightly tugging just the way you know he likes.

He presses himself into you, making you feel just how much he wants you right now, and the contact makes you sigh into his mouth. His tongue slips in, turning the kiss wetter and needier than before. Sadly, a loud voice interrupts you before you can get even more carried away.

“Y/N!” Mashiho calls from behind the bedroom door. “You guys better not be fucking right now, ‘cause we’re going grocery shopping and you said you’d come!”

Ah, your dear friends. Ever so tactful.

You tear yourself from Asahi and pivot your head towards the door. “I’ll be down in a minute!” you shout back. You turn back to your boyfriend and peck his lips, watching him fondly as his eyes stay closed even after you pull away. “You’re not joining, are you?”

He looks down at himself and you follow his gaze, and sure enough, there’s a tent in his pants. “I think I’ll hang back for this one,” he says, a stupid grin on his face.

“Okay,” you whisper, and peck him again. “Gotta go then.” You hop off the counter and head out of the room, turning around and blowing him a kiss when he calls out “Come back quick!”

As soon as you step inside the gigantic, fresh grocery store, Mashiho becomes a man on a mission. As the self-designated chef of the group, he has planned virtually all of the meals you would be having on your trip and therefore has a very detailed list of all the ingredients he needs. He turns to you and pushes a small sheet of paper into your hands, looking at you and Jaehyuk pointedly.

“It’ll be faster if we split up. I’ll take care of the produce and you guys can get the dry ingredients. Jaehyuk, you’re rich, so I trust you’ll get the nice stuff. Oh, and get some snacks and alcohol as well,” he commands, and before you can say anything, he’s off, pushing his cart importantly. You and Jaehyuk exchange a glance, both of you astonished by your friend’s sudden seriousness, but you shrug it off and head to the designated aisles.

It takes you something short of thirty minutes to get everything on Mashiho’s list, and then the fun begins. When you reach the snack aisle, you act as if you won’t be able to come back to the store and have to get enough to sustain your six hungry bodies for two whole weeks. The shelves are ravaged and a sad thing to look at once you and Jaehyuk are done with your spree, and the alcohol aisle is shivering at the mere thought of what you will do to it.

Indeed, you aren’t kind to it. You take random bottles to inspect in your hands, looking at Jaehyuk who gives you either a nod or a shake of his head, sometimes gesturing at you to take another bottle of the same kind. He has to go get a second cart just for the beer packs. It looks like you’ll be staying for two months rather than two weeks, but you can always bring them back home if ever you don’t get to the bottom of those bottles.

You meet Mashiho next to the tills, and while he inspects your cart, shaking his head at the amount of alcohol, your eyes fall on a bright-colored firework stand a few feet from you. “Guys, look!” you call out to your friends. “We should get some of these.”

“Ooh, good idea,” Mashiho agrees. You watch as Jaehyuk’s eyes go wide and as he walks transfixed towards the stand like a kid to a candy shop. He takes a scandalous amount of packs into his arms, heaving them into one of the three carts.

“These’ll be nice for our last night,” he says with a huge smile on his face.

“With that amount, I think we’ll have enough for every night,” you comment, but he just tuts at you.

“Don’t spoil my fun.”

You and Mashiho don’t even dare to look at the total cost of your little shopping fun and wince when the cashier announces it, finding sudden interest in the ceiling of the supermarket. Yet, Jaehyuk seems completely unfazed and pays with his card as if this kind of purchase was an everyday occurrence.

Fast forward a few hours later and you’re already two beers in, laughing at whatever stupid thing Asahi is currently doing. In true summer bonfire fashion, Jaehyuk has gotten out a grill to put over the fire so you could cook sausages, buns and vegetables and eat delicious hot-dogs - not to forget s’mores for dessert. You’re sitting in a circle around the fire Asahi and Sumin prepared, sharing random stories you had somehow not told each other before and hysterically laughing at all the gruesome details of your childhood and teenage incidents. You always love talking to your friends like this, getting to know what their life before you knew them was like; it makes you happy that, despite whatever differences you may have, you’ve now all come together like this.

Asahi drops his head on your shoulder in delight as he bites into the s’more you made for him, the marshmallow cooked just the way he likes it - gooey and sticky on the outside but still a bit raw inside. Sieun looks at you two with a fond smile on her face but shakes her head nonetheless. “I miss the times when Asahi was scared to even look at you when we were around,” she jokes, the others nodding their heads in agreement.

“Don’t say that!” you reprimand lightheartedly. “He’ll get embarrassed and go back to his ways if you guys tease him.”

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here!” he complains, pouting slightly.

“Sorry, baby,” you say, looking down at him with a huge smile on your face, and everybody groans in unison.

Conversation resumes and you all continue chatting, laughing and drinking until the late hours of the night, when the sun has fully set and the fire in front of you is your main source of light. You and Asahi huddle together for warmth, sometimes accidentally falling into your own world and giggling when you feel his hands travel a bit too far up your thighs, but quickly returning to your friends when someone calls out one of your names. You only decide to put the fire out and head to bed when Sumin yawns, causing Jaehyuk to yawn as well, in turn making you yawn, until all six of you have yawned in quick succession, bursting into laughter at your strange acapella.

Asahi has drunk his fair share of beer and cranberry vodkas so the short walk home becomes a whole trek with you having to hold him up the whole way. It doesn’t help that he thinks this is the funniest thing ever and keeps on giggling as he rests all of his weight on you. Thankfully, you’d had your last beer some three hours ago and had practically sobered up while Asahi partied on.

You manage to get him to your shared bedroom, but to your despair, your boyfriend is at the level of drunk where he’s not passed out or vomiting everywhere but he has no filter left and says absolutely everything that goes through his mind. You curse yourself for having once wished to get inside your boyfriend's head and know every single thought of his.

As soon as you push him down on the bed, he looks at you with a shit-eating grin and giggles again. “Ooh,” is all he says, but you roll your eyes at him.

“Sit up and drink some water, then have a painkiller, baby. You’ll thank me tomorrow,” you say, planting a bottle of water and some pills on the nightstand.

“Yes, ma’am,” he slurs, his giggles never stopping. “You looked really hot today, you know,” he says between sips. “Hey, where are you going?!” he calls out after you as you head to the bathroom.

“Just going to change, baby.”

“No need to put your PJs on,” he teases in a sing-song voice.

You ignore him and change into light sleeping clothes then do your skincare, too lazy to take a proper shower. You come out to find Asahi scrolling through his phone, surprisingly still awake but a dazed look in his eyes, like he’s not really watching whatever’s playing on his screen. His eyes come into focus when he sees you approach and he smiles at you sleepily.

“Hey,” you say softly, getting into bed next to him. “I thought you’d be asleep by now. Why don’t you get more comfortable, get those clothes off, hm?”

His gentle smile turns into a smirk at your words, and you can already tell what he’s going to say next. “Too tired. Do it for me?” he asks as he lets his arms hang on his sides, pretending to be innocent. You sigh but oblige anyway, helping him out of his t-shirt. “Are you going to do naughty things to me?” he provokes, that smirk still plastered on his lips.

“No. No funny things tonight, mister. You’re way too drunk-”

“But-”

“No buts,” you say, ignoring his whines as you help him out of his t-shirt. “You’re drunk.”

“I’m not that drunk,” he insists, giggling again when you unbutton his shorts and pull them down his legs. “Look,” he says, pointing to his growing erection. “Would I be able to do that if I was too drunk?”

“Wh- how are you hard already, Sahi?” you ask, baffled by your boyfriend’s impressive bodily prowesses, and the words seem to get to his dick because you see it twitch under his boxers. “I haven’t even done anything yet…”

“Yet?” he echoes, a hopeful tone in his voice. He sees you’re about to deny him again, so he takes your hand and presses it lightly to his erection. “Please… I can do all the work, if you want,” he pleads, trailing soft kisses up your arm until he reaches your neck. “Hm? I already feel more sober.”

You sigh, more so in pleasure at feeling your boyfriend’s lips against your skin than in annoyance. “Fine,” you comply, pretending like you’re doing this for him, when really you’d been craving to get him alone all day and had been disappointed to see him so drunk, thinking he wouldn’t be able to do anything - so this comes as relief to you.

“Thank you,” he whispers against your lips, smiling, before diving into a kiss. You can tell he’s impatient because he doesn’t waste much time before pulling your t-shirt off, smirking when he sees you’re wearing your black lace panties - his favorites. “I have to taste you,” he groans as he helps you lay on your back against the soft mattress, then starts making his way down your body, stopping for a moment to suck on your nipples just to tease you a bit. No matter how restless he was, he always liked making you needy for him before he gave you what you wanted.

Your core is throbbing by the time he reaches it, and you’ve already hurried out of your underwear, making him chuckle. “I thought I was the needy one here…”

“Shut up,” you whine, and he indeed does shut up as he licks up a firm stripe between your folds, his tongue finding your clit immediately. You’re glad he doesn’t tease and instead sucks and licks like his life depends on it, the sensations making you feel light-headed. Within seconds, you’re a moaning mess under his tongue, and he needs to keep your thighs open lest you snap them shut around his head in overwhelming pleasure.

He only takes breaks to catch his breath and murmur dirty things against your thighs, biting at the skin there. “Tastes so good, baby. I’ve been waiting all day for this, and I’m gonna do this every single fucking day, too.”

Raising your body on your elbows was a bad idea because the sight between your legs takes your breath away. Your sweet boyfriend has his eyes shut tight and his eyebrows furrowed together in deep concentration as he drinks from you like a parched man would from a well. One hand has snuck its way onto your belly, simply resting it there, while the other has gone down to palm himself through his boxers. He seems more intoxicated by you, your scent and your taste, than by the alcohol in his system. His hums and moans vibrate against your core, and the thought that making you feel good makes him feel good is what sends your body reeling.

“Fuck, Sahi, I’m so- ah, so close,” you moan, tugging harshly at his hair and getting ready for your orgasm, until he suddenly pulls away from your core and positions himself over you, the absence of the warmth of his tongue making you whine. Just as you’re about to protest, he pushes his cock into your hole, making you gasp at the abrupt but not unwelcome intrusion. He bottoms out immediately, filling you up as he always does.

“Sorry, princess, needed you to cum around my dick instead. Wanted to feel- fuck- all of you,” he moans into your ear. At first, he holds his weight up on his elbows, each one resting next to your face, and kisses you hungrily. The intense pleasure makes it hard to kiss and you share so little oxygen as you breathe into each other’s mouth that it is dizzying. But then, when it gets too much, he rests half of his body on yours, holding himself up on one arm so he can keep on thrusting at a rapid pace. His moans are muffled into your hair, and you know he’s close when he starts using his thumb to play with your clit and bring you to climax at the same time as him.

Quickly enough, your orgasm bubbles at the surface again, and as soon as you let him know you’re close, Asahi is begging for you to cum. “Sahi…” is all you can moan as you cum, walls clenching around him and pulling his release out of him and right into your hole. He sighs deeply as he softens inside you and buries his face in your neck. You don’t need to see him to picture his peaceful, content expression, but you also know your boyfriend and he could fall asleep at any second now, so you have to push him off of you to clean the both of you up and have a quick trip to the bathroom.

You have a sip of water and turn the fan on high before you snuggle yourself in his embrace, his arms wrapping themselves around you in a tight hug. The room is already hot from the weather and your shenanigans have only made the temperature rise, so you know you wouldn’t be comfortable in this position for long but you let yourself fall asleep anyway, simply happy to be here in your boyfriend’s arms.

One thing about hungover Asahi is that he always sleeps in late, so you know better than to wait around in bed for him and get up soon after you awake. “Sleeping the alcohol off,” he calls it.

You’re the first one up, so you decide to cook your hangover soup that receives praise from Mashiho himself for your friends that may have abused alcohol last night. Soon enough, they come trudging out of their rooms one by one, looking tired and as if they might get sick any minute. When she sees you’ve made your soup, Sumin hugs you for so long you think she might have fallen back asleep on your shoulder. You and Sieun are the only ones that don’t look like they’re dying - you, because you didn’t drink much, and Sieun, because she’s got superhuman drinking abilities.

Your sleeping prince comes out last and heads for the couch immediately, finishing off his night for thirty minutes there before getting up again and having some soup. He’s already not the most talkative person on earth, but when tired and hungover like this, he truly becomes a man of few words; whatever he says probably wouldn’t make much sense anyway. He kisses the top of your head as a thank you and hunches over his bowl of soup, drinking it like it’s elixir, and burps for good measure once he’s done eating.

After that, even if it’s past noon, the day is slow to start. But that’s okay, because you’ve got plenty of time anyway. None of you have enough energy to do much more than sunbathe and play around in the sea all afternoon, so that’s exactly what you do. Sieun is the only one who manages to make your lazy bodies move, forcing Jaehyuk to show her where the beachvolley net and everything you need to play it are stored, then making you play with her. They put you and Asahi on different teams, because you are both so bad that having the two of you on the same team is a great disadvantage and wouldn’t be fair to the third person playing with you. You spend most of the time doing nothing at the back and pointing as you laugh at each other, anyway.

Swimming in the sea makes you hungry, so you all head back inside for ice cream and snacks and take seats around the back porch table, playing made-up games of cards. When it’s time for dinner, you pressure Mashiho into letting you help him out, otherwise you know he’ll be complaining about doing all the work in a few days. You only have non-alcoholic drinks that night, and head to bed after watching a horror movie, which Jaehyuk really hated. It’s only night two, but so far, Asahi keeps his promise of eating you out every night, and you make sure to reward him for it.

And just like that, the days pass. You either stay at home and eat Mashiho’s food or go into town for dinner. You go to the bowling alley, or mini-golfing, or at the sea sports center that lets you try out surfing and jet skiing. You eat your fill three times a day and sometimes drink more than necessary. You also get into the habit of napping after lunch, the warmth of the three p.m. sun and your full stomach lulling you to sleep.

One such afternoon, you get a quirky little idea into your head. The boys start playing some games on the Nintendo Switch but you decide to go upstairs anyway and rest before you take on the afternoon. But napping without Asahi’s warmth or at least his presence next to you isn’t the same, and so you’re left tossing and turning in bed.

Your mind drifts naturally to last night’s debacles - how Asahi had sighed your name as he came, how he’d looked at you with half-lidded eyes while you rode him. You barely even notice it when you start rubbing your palm against your core, but when a surge of pleasure hits you, you sneak your hand under your panties and use two fingers to circle your clit gently. But you don’t want to get yourself off, not when your boyfriend is close by and you can ask him to make you feel good, because you know there’s little chance he’d say no. However, it’s siesta time, and you feel too drowsy to have proper sex, which is how you come up with your little idea.

“You’re not sleeping?” Asahi asks as he strips to his boxers and slips in the bed next to you when he’s done playing. You shake your head no, smiling gently up at him, and he takes you in his arms.

“I had an idea, actually,” you say into his chest.

“Oh yeah? What is it?”

You pull away slightly so you can look at him while you talk. “Well, you know how sometimes, after we’ve had sex, you stay inside for a little bit? Just because it feels nice,” you start.

“Mhm,” he hums, eyebrows slightly furrowed.

“Well, I thought we could do that now. Like, to fall asleep, or something,” you mutter, voice wavering out of shyness towards the end and you look away from his burning gaze.

“So, you’re telling me you want me to be inside you, and I can’t move, because we’re supposed to sleep like that?” he enunciates. You nod. “That sounds like torture, babe,” he says half-seriously.

“What? No! It’ll be nice!” you pout.

He sighs, smiling fondly at you. “We can try, but I don’t think it’ll end the way you want it to. There’s a reason we usually do it after having sex, you know.”

“I know, but I wanna try anyway,” you say, excited by your small victory.

You pump him a few times to get him hard enough but stop him when he tries to help you, too. “I’m already wet,” you admit coyly, which makes him smirk.

“You naughty girl. Touching yourself when I’m not even that far away?” he tuts.

“I was thinking about you.”

“Good,” he smiles. “So, how are we doing this?”

Instead of answering him, you turn around and lean your back against his chest, one leg hiked up higher than the other for easier access, then tilt your head back to look at him. “Like this?” you ask, pressing your ass against his erection, and he nods. He lines up his tip with your entrance and presses a kiss to your neck. “Okay, ready?”

“Mhm.”

He slips in easily, the both of you sighing when he’s pushed in all the way. One of his arms serves as your pillow while the other holds you close by the waist. You’re silent for a few minutes, pretending to be oblivious to the small groans or sighs that leave the other’s mouth when one of you squirms, trying to find the most comfortable position.

“Will you really sleep like this?” Asahi asks after a while, voice low but with a slight tremble to it, and you can tell he’s trying to reign himself in. Of course, you should’ve seen this coming - maybe you had, but decided to ignore what was very obviously going to happen, fooling your boyfriend and yourself at the same time. He’s been still inside you for at least ten minutes now, and even if it feels nice to just have him like this and feel close to him, it’d be a lie to say you didn’t want him to move and just fuck you properly already.

So, now was the time to ask yourself: did you want to keep the charade up, and tease your boyfriend a bit longer, or did you want to end your suffering and his at the same time? An easy question, of course; the second option was no fun.

You manage the smallest, sleepiest voice you can, and answer him. “Yeah, this is nice.” You’re glad your back is facing him so that he can’t see you smirk when he audibly groans, his grip on your waist getting just a bit tighter.

“Fine,” he says, as if to convince himself, but the way he curses under his breath when you move your hips a bit more boldly than previously tells you that it is not actually fine. “Please, stay still,” he whispers close to your ear, the edge of a whine to his voice.

“Sorry, baby,” you coo, feeling his dick twitch inside you - when said the right way and at the right time, he really loved this nickname, and so did his dick, apparently.

Not two minutes later, just as you squirm against him again, his hand moves from your waist to your belly, pressing down and holding there. “Babe,” he whispers, then takes a pause to kiss up your neck to your ear, sucking lightly on your lobe before speaking again. “Please. You’re killing me, and I know you’re doing this on purpose, hm? Just to rile me up. So let me fuck you, and then we can sleep, yeah? Please?”

That last word is pronounced with so much desperation that you almost feel bad for keeping this up. It sends a shiver up your spine and you try to hide your smile but knowing you got him like putty in your hands so quickly brings you a bit too much pride and joy.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, baby, I’m not doing anything,” you say in a voice that makes it clear you know exactly what he’s talking about, and he scoffs at that.

“Yeah? Want me to show you, then?”

Just like that, a switch flicks inside both of you. You had him a second ago; now, with six small words, he has you. As he pronounces those words, his hand travels down to find your clit and with two fingers starts to rub lazy circles on it. “Look at you. So fucking wet, and yet you pretend like you don’t want this.” He tilts his head so that his lips are right next to your ears. “‘Cause in the end, you’re just my little slut, aren’t you?”

He doesn’t even let you react to his taunt that he’s already bucked up his hips into yours, harsh. The single thrust has you whimpering - in just a few sentences, he’d managed to break your whole innocent facade down, and you who thought you had him wrapped around your finger were now fully at your boyfriend’s mercy. He thrusts again, strong and deep, the position allowing him to hit a spot buried inside you that gets you moaning like no other, and he knows it - there have been too many cuddling-turned-into-fucking situations for him not to have noticed that you loved this position. And he did too: he had access to your clit with one hand and to your upper body with the other, could feel your whole body against his, and could hit deep inside you. What more could he ask for?

And because he got you weak for him in mere moments, why not add to it?

He settles on a slow and sensual pace to make it easier for him to whisper nasty things into your ear, all while his nimble fingers continue to play with your clit. “I want you to answer me when I ask you a question, baby. I said, aren’t you my little slut? Mm?” he taunts, his free hand making its way to your chin and grasping it, tilting your head so you look up at him, but your eyes are shut tight in pleasure as you mumble out incoherent words. “Open your eyes and look at me while you say it,” he orders.

You struggle to open them, but when you do, he can feel his blood coursing through his veins. Your pupils are completely blown out in lust, and the slight crease in your eyebrows as you look up at him makes you look like you’re almost in pain - if you can call his torturously slow place painful. All he knows is that this is the exact expression you wear when you give yourself over to him fully, and he has all the control he wants over your body.

“Yes…”

“Yes what, baby?”

“Yes, I’m just your little slut,” you finally repeat, cheeks heating up, somehow still feeling embarrassed even in the position you’re in, but the humiliation only adds to your arousal.

“That’s a good girl,” Asahi beams, planting a soft kiss on your lips and letting go of your chin. You immediately bury your face in your pillow in the hopes of muffling your moans, but Asahi is quick to stop you. “None of that, now,” he tuts. “I want to hear you.”

You whine when his fingers leave your clit for a second to hike your leg up higher, but it’s immediately replaced by a loud moan as the new angle allows him to go somehow even deeper. His thumb traces your bottom lip, and you open your mouth wider as if by instinct, letting him simply rest the digit on your tongue; this was a regular occurrence when you and Asahi had sex ever since he’d found out how much you loved his hands and particularly his long, delicate fingers.

“Fa-faster, please,” you manage to say around his thumb, and he chuckles.

“Faster? Of course, baby,” he says, and his pace immediately picks up. “See how easy it is to just ask for things? You know I’ll give you anything you want, so I don’t know why you always act like a damn brat and make things harder for the both of us,” he huffs, his thrusts getting rougher and rougher as he speaks. You hope no one can hear the lewd sound of his balls slapping against your ass.

If your boyfriend wasn’t railing you into the sheets, you’d be thinking, “yes, of course, I can just ask, but what’s the fun in that, when I can get to the same result by teasing you and pissing you off instead?”, but maybe that’s just the brat in you talking. If you hadn’t taunted him like you had, the orgasm probably would’ve been less satisfying - still good, of course, since this was Asahi, but you liked working for your reward.

And indeed, your orgasm is more than satisfactory, especially when your boyfriend wraps his slender fingers around your throat and presses just the right amount, making you gasp for air as you come undone around his dick. He chases his own high desperately, bucking his hips sloppily and rapidly into yours until he finally releases inside you, painting your walls white.

He barely gives you any time to catch your breath and drift down to earth that he’s already slipped out of you only to replace his dick with two fingers, stuffing his cum into your hole before it can drip out. He watches with a smirk as your back arches at the overstimulation, praising you for being such a good angel after he makes you lick his fingers clean.

He uses tissues to clean you both up, then reminds you to go to the bathroom before you fall asleep. When you come back, he’s waiting for you arms wide open, and pulls you into a tight embrace as soon as you reach the bed. He kisses the top of your head, voice muffled when he says “you were so good for me today baby.” You can’t help but whine at the sudden praise, flustered out of your mind from him saying it when you’re not having sex, and hide your blush by burying your face in his chest.

It’s not everyday that Asahi shows you his meaner, rougher side, but when he does, you always sleep like a baby, your body sore from such intense pleasure. Sometimes, all it takes is a good fuck to sleep well.

A few days later, in an attempt to break your drinking-on-the-beach habit, Jaehyuk proposes that you all go out to the bars in New Town. Lucky for you, on vacations, you always pack for any occasion that may arise. Restaurant chic, restaurant casual, chilly evening, sweltering afternoon, beach day, mall outing, clubbing: name it, you have it.

The dress you brought for an evening out in the town is the perfect balance between summery and sexy: it shows some cleavage and some legs and fits you at the waist but spreads out over your hips and isn't tight over your arms. The fabric is pretty, white with small blue flowers, light and comfortable. But the reason you like it so much is that it was the dress you wore on the day you and Asahi finally confessed your feelings for each other, and you know he loves it as well.

He seats on the bed, legs spread comfortably, as he waits for you. He’d been looking around the room absent-mindedly but his eyes settle on you as soon as you step out of the bathroom, a wide grin blooming on his face as soon as he sees the dress you’re wearing.

“How do I look?” you ask with a smile, spinning in your dress.

Asahi gets up and comes to stand in front of you, hands on each side of your waist, just holding you gently there. He peers down at you with only love in his eyes - in fact, it seems like his affection for you is oozing from every one of his pores. “You look beautiful,” he speaks in a low voice, and you blush at the honesty in his tone. As your friends had mentioned a few days ago, Asahi had been extremely shy at the beginning of your relationship, looking away immediately when you made eye contact and getting nervous when simply holding hands, but now he could hold your gaze and compliment you like it was nothing. If anything, you’re the one getting flustered now.

“Pff, whatever,” you say to avert his attention from your bashfulness, but it just makes him laugh fondly at you. You’ll find another time to get back at him, you think.

“Wait here,” he suddenly says, “I’ve got something for you.”

“Ooh, a gift?” you perk up, but he just gives you an enigmatic style. You watch as he walks over to the bag he’d packed for the trip and unzips a hidden inside pocket, taking out a small box from it.

“Sahi…”

“Stand in front of a mirror,” he says softly, so you head back inside the bathroom, and he follows right after. He opens the box, revealing a silver necklace with a thin chain and the prettiest star pendant hanging from it.

“Is this-” you start, recognising the style of the jewelry immediately.

“Yep. I saw you browse through that brand’s Instagram too often to not get you anything. And look,” he says, holding up the underside of the pendant for you to see: a capital ‘A’ is inscribed in it. He holds up his wrist, showing you a bracelet you hadn’t seen before that looks like a slightly more masculine version of your necklace, and sure enough, it’s got the same star on one side and the first letter of your name on the other.

“It’s so pretty, baby, thank you so much, but,” you murmur, in slight disbelief at the sudden gift, “what’s all this for?”

He pouts his lips in thought as he hooks the piece of jewelry around your neck, letting the pendant rest between your collarbones, then sets his palms lightly on your shoulders, finding your eyes in the reflection of the mirror. “No reason, really. Just felt like getting you a gift, then thought I’d do this whole romantic thing on the beach here but…” he stops here briefly, bending down to press his lips to your neck, making you need to take a deep breath in. “We’re going out tonight, and so many guys are going to see you looking like this… and I know what you’ll say, that I’m the one you’re going home with, but still, it’ll reassure me to know you have my initial around your neck. Even if it's just the two of us that are aware,” he ends with a small smile as he looks up at you.

“Hm,” you hum, mirroring his smile, “I like the sound of that.” His smile gets wider at your words, and he turns you around to press a firm kiss to your lips. You know the two of you, so you pull away before you can get carried away. “Let’s go now so they don’t chastise us for taking forever,” you say, and he nods, eyes already slightly blown-out from the simple kiss and proximity you just shared.

Because it’s Jaehyuk, or maybe because his family beach house is in a really expensive city, he takes you to a fancy bar that charges ten bucks for a cocktail that probably has two drops of alcohol in it. When he’s had enough of you and your friends’ complaints, he caves in and agrees to take you to a place with a more relaxed atmosphere, and although he “doesn’t see what was so wrong with the last place,” even he has to agree that this new bar, with its decoration that’s cheesy in a heartwarming way, music you can sing along to and beer pong tables strangers can compete against each other on, is a lot more fun.

You find an empty table big enough for all six of you at the back of the bar. Pushed by your eagerness to drink and the friendly ambiance around you, a surge of generosity hits you and you decide to pay for everyone’s first drink here. Sumin walks with you to the counter, the both of you leaving the table under the happy cheers and whoops of your friends.

There’s a bit of a line at the bar, but at least you’re not queuing by yourself. You haven’t even been waiting a minute for the bartender to notice you that a random guy sitting has already struck conversation with you and Sumin. In five minutes of talking to him, you learn that his name is Jake, that he’s here on vacation with his friends (whose table he points to, the three men waving at you) and that “you two ladies” are welcome to join them for a beer pong match later on. Judging by the four empty beer pints he brought with him and is waiting to be freshened, he’s not completely sober, which you guess is why he’s so talkative. You don’t mind it, though - his smile is contagious and he comes off more as overbearingly friendly than as threatening.

The bartender takes your order of six pints of beer and Sumin’s - who decided she’d also be generous tonight - of six tequila shots. She tells Jake you’re with your friends, but that beer pong sounds fun and she’ll pitch it to them. You wave Sieun and Mashiho over to help you carry the drinks back since they are the ones seated closest to the bar. Jake greets them with a smile then waves as you walk away with your drinks. You don’t notice the way his eyes linger on your figure as you head back to your table, but someone else definitely does.

Asahi hadn’t really paid attention to the interaction at first - you were just going to get drinks. But of course, he always likes keeping an eye on you, just to make sure everything’s okay, and he just can’t help but steal glances at you when you’re in the same room as him but not by his side. Oh, there’s a guy talking to you and Sumin. Whatever, that’s what people do in pubs, right? Chat up random strangers.

You’re smiling at the stranger. Well, that’s fine, of course. You’re friendly, and you’re polite. Why wouldn’t you be smiling?

Now you’re laughing. That guy probably made a joke or something. Laughing is just the nice thing to do! Nothing to worry about.

Finally, you’re heading back towards the table. Finally, that pretty smile of yours is directed towards him and not a random guy - wait, what the fuck? What’s up with that look he’s giving you? The eyeing your figure up and down, the smirk that appears on his face, Asahi sees it all. He can’t really blame the guy - if he thinks you’re the most gorgeous being on this planet, then surely other people will find you pretty, or sexy, or whatever. He just wishes that guy didn’t have to show his interest so openly.

Jaehyuk elbows him slightly in the ribs, snapping Asahi out of his thoughts. “Maybe if you stare harder, that guy will burst into flames,” his friend teases but Asahi just chuckles dryly. He opens an arm when he sees you approach, beckoning you to his embrace after you put the drinks down on the table. He wraps a protective arm around your shoulder and presses a kiss to your forehead, then pulls away to look down at you with a smile. You’re a bit taken aback as your boyfriend is usually not the biggest fan of PDA, especially when it’s not just you and your friends, but you chalk his behavior up to the party atmosphere of the place and to the cocktail he had at the previous bar.

What you don’t know, however, is that he had kept his eyes trained on the guy at the bar when you couldn’t see it. A smirk appeared on Asahi’s face as he made eye contact with him just as he placed that kiss to your forehead, effectively letting him know you weren’t available. The guy - Jake, he found out when Sumin told them about a potential beer pong game - smirked sarcastically and turned away, grabbing his own drinks before heading back to his friends. That should do it.

Sieun raises her shot glass, gesturing for everybody to do the same, and tells Jaehyuk to give a small speech.

“Why me?” he asks defensively, a surprised look on his face.

“‘Cause you talk so well, always saying stuff just to say stuff. Go on then,” she prods, nodding her glass towards him.

He clears his throat and raises the shooter a bit higher, then looks at each one of you with intent. He’s so stupidly serious that you, Mashiho and Sumin can’t contain your snorts, but Asahi and Sieun are waiting expectantly. “I thank you, my friends, for joining me on this trip and bringing fun and happiness to the house. We’ve got four days left here, so let’s make the most of them, and let’s have fun tonight as well. Whoever those boys you guys talked to are, let’s destroy them at beer pong,” he declares, earning himself appreciative hums from the table. “Now, get your salt and lime ready, and let’s do this.” He waits for everyone to get their shot ready. “Alright. To us, and to friendship. Cheers!” he exclaims, ending his speech on a cute note. You scoff jokingly at how lame of a toast that was but bring your glass forth anyway, clinking it with your friends’ as you all echo his ‘cheers’. In almost perfect synchronization, the six of you lick the salt off of your hand, swallow down the tequila and bite into the lime to make the stinging taste go away. You turn to Asahi, giggling at his scrunched-up nose because of the alcohol even though you’re wearing the exact same expression.

Some thirty minutes later, Jake and who you guess are his friends stroll up to your table, asking if you’re ready for the game. With two shots (because Jaehyuk and Mashiho went to get some more) and one pint of beer in your systems, no one at the table is in a mood to refuse playing against strangers, especially if the game involves more alcohol. No one save for Asahi, whose grip on your waist gets slightly tighter, enough for you to notice but not enough to question, but with how eager everyone is to play, he doesn’t have much of a choice.

Jake’s friends’ names, you quickly learn, are Heeseung, Jay and Sunghoon, and they all study at the same university. The ten of you divide into two teams: Jake, Jay, Mashiho, Sumin and you versus Heeseung, Sunghoon, Asahi, Jaehyuk and Sieun. They didn’t let you and Asahi on the same team because your friends hate seeing you happy, apparently.

Except for Jay, who brushes every miss off with a laugh, Jake and his friends are really good at beer pong, and make almost every shot. Although you should be rooting for your team, you cheer whenever your friends succeed in getting the ping-pong ball in the cup on your end, even when you’re the one who has to gulp down the cheap beer. Mashiho, Jaehyuk and Sieun are the pride of your friend group in terms of beer pong ability (Jaehyuk and Sieun say they practiced to ‘impress the ladies’ while Mashiho just has a natural talent for that kind of stuff). To your dismay, however, whenever it’s your turn to drink, it’s Sieun’s turn to shoot, and by the second time she lands a shot, you know you’re not finishing this game sober. When it’s your third time having to drink, you complain she’s gonna get you wasted, and Jake suddenly grabs the drink from your hand, gulping it down quickly. He waves you off with a smile when you thank him, and you’re surprised by his hero-like behavior.

Asahi, whose turn is after Sieun’s, is lucky that you’re not very skilled, the alcohol not helping, and so that he doesn’t have to drink. Asahi. Right, Asahi. He’s not usually this quiet during night-outs, liking to watch your drunk friends’ reactions to his stupid grimaces and skits, but he doesn’t seem to want to participate in the fun tonight. On your third go, you warn your teammates to not expect too much. You pick up the small ball and lift your arm, ready to aim aimlessly, until you feel a warm hand wrapping itself around yours and a presence, ghost-like behind you. Without a word, Jake moves your hand and helps you throw, delivering a perfect shot. But you wouldn’t have known the ball had landed in a cup had the cheers around you not been so loud, because you weren’t looking at the ball’s trajectory.

You were looking up at your boyfriend from across the table. His arms are crossed and his eyes are so focused on something - or rather, someone - that he’s squinting hard, almost angry. But he’s not looking at you. You follow his gaze until you reach Jake, who’s smirking back at him as if victorious, and everything falls into place.

Your boyfriend is jealous.

Now, this is a rare occasion. Even if you and Asahi are both the type to be completely oblivious when somebody is flirting with you, or even when you’re accidentally flirting with somebody, you always notice when someone is flirting with the other. However, when that happens, you just stride up to them and the other person and make it clear that you’re dating so that the other person doesn’t embarrass themselves further, and then you head home and laugh about it. There is too much trust in your relationship for there to be that much jealousy - just a normal amount, things like “let me know who you’re going with and when you’ll be back,” “and who’s that person?” or “but we haven’t hung out much this week, can you stay with me this one time?”. Most importantly, you never do anything to make the other jealous on purpose, and if one of you has a bout of jealousy, you talk about it.

But that look in his eyes, the way he’s staring Jake down and the way he doesn’t even seem happy when he lands the shot, making Jake drink - he’s so obvious. He’s probably not even trying to hide it. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you just a tiny bit proud. You like these sides of Asahi that he keeps hidden most of the time, and possessive slash jealous Asahi in particular is very hot. Your favorite part about it is that right now, he’s acting like he’s all tough to ward Jake off, but you know he’ll be putty in your hands as soon as you get home, and you can’t wait.

You really can’t wait.

You sneak over to the opposite team’s side and snake your hands around your boyfriend’s waist when you reach him. You look up at him but he avoids your gaze, making you smile fondly.

“Sahi.”

“Hm?”

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, of course, why wouldn’t it be?” he answers, finally looking down at you briefly, as if exchanging a glance will convince you.

“If I told you I wanted to go home,” you start, voice dipping a bit lower, “really badly,” you say as you trail a finger up his bare arm, satisfied to see goosebumps appearing on his skin, “would you come home with me?”

That gets his attention for sure. “I’ll go get our stuff,” he says before disappearing. He’s back in thirty seconds and you’ve barely had time to tell your friends you were leaving that he’s practically dragging you out of the bar.

“See you around, Y/N,” Jake says, but your boyfriend doesn’t let you answer.

“No, she won’t.”

You try hard to bite back a smile but as soon as you’re outside, the streets still bustling with young people trying to find a nice place to drink and the sun not even fully set yet, you’re beaming hard.

It’s not that cold, but Asahi drapes his jean jacket over your shoulders anyway, and you let him do it. You walk in silence, hand in hand, and you can almost see smoke coming out of his nose. You let him calm down for the whole duration of the walk back to Jaehyuk’s house, neither of you speaking up until you’re in the kitchen, standing on each side of the island counter and he’s filled two glasses of water.

“So, wanna tell me what that was all about?” you say, finally breaking the silence.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lies, staring off into the distance with a slight frown.

“Babe, it’s written all over your face that you’re mad. Tell me why,” you prod, even though you know very well the reason behind his anger.

He sighs and looks at the marble countertop like there’s something interesting there. “That guy… Jake, or whatever his name was. He just… ugh, he just kept looking at you, and touching you, and I fucking hated it. He knew we were dating, I made it very, very clear. It was like he was doing it on purpose. And you didn’t- Why didn’t you- Did you not notice, or something?” he asks, his eyes finally looking into yours as if searching for an answer there. His voice had gone from frustrated to desperate, and that, paired with the crease in his brows as he looks at you, makes you think naughty thoughts.

You walk over to his side of the counter, never breaking eye contact and wearing a small smile that tries to be reassuring. When you’re finally in front of him, you rest both of your palms on his chest and his hands come naturally on each side of your hips. You think you might melt at the way he’s looking at you, desperately waiting for comforting words or actions, like you’re the only one that can make him feel better about this.

“As soon as I noticed, I came over to you and we left, baby,” you coo, trailing one of your hands from his chest to his cheek, cupping it, and he closes his eyes as he rests his head on your palm, your warmth coming as a much-needed relief to him. You swipe your thumb across his cheek in a loving caress. “You know I wouldn’t make you jealous on purpose.” You take a step closer to him and his arms wrap themselves around your waist, holding you tighter. “And you know you’re the only one I’d want to go home with, anyway.”

At that, he opens just one eye. “Really?”

You chuckle fondly at your boyfriend. “Of course, baby. Look,” you say and wait for him to open his other eye, then take the small pendant he’d gifted you a few hours ago and turn it around in your fingers so that the engraved ‘A’ is blinking up at him. “I literally have your initial around my neck.”

This should be enough to convince him, and maybe it is, but he decides to push it further anyway, coaxing more reassurance out of you. His eyes drop to the floor and his lips form a pout as he murmurs, “How do I know you’re telling the truth, though…”, then sneaks a glance at you, as if to gauge your reaction, and you understand immediately what he wants.

“Do you want me to show you, instead?” you ask, face so close to his that your whisper fans over his lips. You mirror his smile when he nods shyly, which you take as an invitation to press your lips to his, so you do. You want to keep the kiss light and soft, but Asahi seems to be in some kind of a hurry, judging by his fast-moving lips and hands grabbing everywhere they can. You lean back to look at him and push some hair away from his face. “I’m not going anywhere, baby,” you say as you smile and bring your nose to his, brushing the tips together, which brings a smile to his face. “I’m right here.”

When a strong huff escapes Asahi’s nose, you pull away and wait for him to explain what’s bothering him. “I know, I know that, I just… You weren’t looking at him at all, I know that, but he was, and God, I don’t know why but it just pissed me off. Him and his friends, and they were looking at Sumin and Sieun too, you know, but obviously it bothered me more when they looked at you. And it makes sense ‘cause you’re the prettiest girl ever, and who wouldn’t look at you, but also I want to be the only want to look at you, but also it doesn’t matter as long as you’re only looking at me, but-”

You cut him off with a peck. “I only have eyes for you, my love,” you whisper against his lips. “C’mon,” you say, taking him by the hand and leading him to the bedroom - you’re not going to risk having one of your friends come home and walk in on you giving head to your boyfriend in the kitchen.

When you get to the bed, you push gently down on his shoulders so that he sits at the edge of the mattress. Your eyes never leave each other, and the expectant look he wears paired with the fact that he’s handing over the control to you for once makes you want to do all kinds of things to him. However, you have a very set goal you must stay focused on for tonight.

You take a step between his legs and his hands come up naturally to your waist. There is only love and awe in your gaze as you brush your hands through his hair and all around his head until they come down to cup his face for a second, then continue their way to his shoulders. His eyes are closed as if he wants to focus on your touch only, and they stay that way even when he starts to feel you unbuttoning his shirt slowly and take the light piece of fabric off of him, leaving his upper body naked.

You sink down to your knees in front of him, tracing a fingernail down his chest and abs and watching as his muscles flex underneath your teasing touch. You take your time just tracing patterns on his skin and leaving kisses here and there, and by his growing erection and the way he’s grabbing at the sheets behind him you can tell that even with how much he wants you to stop playing around, he also wants to be patient and good for you.

Your hands come down to his knee and you rub up and down his thighs a few times, getting closer to his inner thighs and to his erection every time until you finally press a palm over it, smiling when he releases an audible sigh at the small relief you’re finally giving him.

“You have no idea how much I love you, Sahi,” you say in a low voice as you start unbuckling his belt, still taking your sweet time. “I’d do anything to make you happy, and I want to be the only one who can make you feel good, so don’t ever think I’m looking at anyone else.”

He lets out a low hum in response, and you press a kiss to his lower belly before fully undoing his belt and his trousers. You ask him to raise his hips so you can take them off along with his underwear, and you finally have him fully naked in front of you. His eyebrows are creased and his breathing is already heavy and irregular without you having done much. He can’t even stop a moan from leaving his lips when you take him in your hand and start to very slowly bring your palm up and down his shaft, using the precum that’s already started to gather at his tip as lube. Your other hand is on his thighs, caressing it gently and sometimes grabbing at the skin. “So hard for me, hm?” you murmur, just to rile him up a bit.

When you start to pick up your pace just a bit, you bend your head down to press kisses to his thighs and bite the soft, sensitive flesh of his inner thighs to leave red marks there. At this point, his head is thrown back in pleasure, and with the house fully empty, he is not afraid to be as loud as he wants. Strings of curses and your name are constantly escaping him as well as groans and whines when something feels particularly good. When you lick a long stripe up his shaft and circle your tongue around his tip, he’s practically a gone man, his loud moans filling the room as he tries and fails to not buck his hips up into your mouth.

You come up for a breath of air, replacing your mouth with your hand so he doesn’t lose his momentum. “Are you gonna cum for me, baby? Make a mess all over my hand?” you taunt right before taking him back in your mouth, going down on his cock as far as you can. In mere seconds, you feel his thighs start to shake underneath your palms and his moans start to get higher in pitch, a sure sign of his climax being close. Usually, you’d swallow around his cock, but you’ve got another idea for tonight so you pull away and jerk him off as fast as you can while playing with his balls.

“C-coming…” he warns uselessly as ropes of his hot, white cum shoot all over his stomach and on your hand. You don’t let him calm down before taking his chin in your hand and tilting it down to make him look at you as you lick your fingers clean first, then his stomach, the taste of his cum and sweat filling your mouth.

“Fuck, you’re hot,” he breathes out in disbelief when you’re done with your little show, making you chuckle. He lets his body collapse onto the bed and you follow him, resting on your side with your head on your palm so you can trace your fingernail over his bicep and look at him as his breathing slows down, eyes closed and smiling peacefully. Your pretty angel. Only you get to see him like this, and you’re eternally grateful for that honor.

“I should get jealous more often,” he jokes after a few minutes when you thought he’d fallen asleep.

“I’ll always remind you that you’re the only one I want,” you whisper, making him open his eyes to look at you. That’s when he realizes that you’re still fully clothed while he’s butt naked.

He sits up, and before you can say anything, he’s taken your spot on the floor, kneeling at the edge of the mattress, and he pulls you towards him by the hips. His hands ride up your thighs, pushing the skirt of your dress over your hips to reveal your soaking panties to him. “God, you’re so wet,” he marvels at the sight of the wet patch on your underwear. You hadn’t even realized your core had been aching this whole time, so focused you were on making him feel good.

“You don’t need to, Sahi-”

“I want to,” he says, effectively cutting you off, then licks a stripe up your clothed core, the simple action enough to have you whimpering. Something - maybe your scent, or your taste, or the sounds you’re making, or all three - seems to take over him, and suddenly he’s a starved man. Not even bothering to take them off, he pushes your panties to the side and starts sucking at your clit so hard it’s almost painful, but the sting only adds to the pleasure. He’s always passionate when he eats you out, but this is another level of desire and eagerness to make you feel good that just makes your whole body weak and your throat raw with how much you’re moaning.

The knot in your stomach is already close to bursting not even a minute in, so you force Asahi to pull away and gesture for him to get on the bed, “please” and “I need you” leaving your lips like they’re the only things you can say. He’d usually chuckle at your impatience, but this time, he obeys you without a word, eyes half-lidded and blown out with lust, and cock already hard again.

He sits up on the bed, back against the headboard, and urges you to come and straddle his hips. Even now you’re still too restless to take your underwear off so you push it to the side once again as you line yourself up with his tip and sit down on him, bottoming out quickly. He gives you no time to adjust to his size before thrusting up into you, hard and desperate, and you’re so wet that he slips right in anyway. You’re a moaning mess on top of him, and he’s a moaning mess underneath you. Your hands can’t stay still, going from holding onto his shoulders, to clawing at his back, to tugging harshly at his hair. His arms are wrapped around your waist, sometimes holding you by the hips and bringing you down onto his cock just as he bucks his own into yours.

One of the reasons that you love sex with Asahi, other than the fact that you love him more than your heart can handle, is that it is always different and exciting. Tonight, you’re absolutely lost in each other, rendering your body to pleasure and your desire for each other. His scent takes up all of your senses, the pure bliss he is making you feel is intoxicating and you can’t think of anything else, only him. And judging from the expressions and the sounds he’s making, he feels the same way.

It all gets too much; he’s hitting the exact right spots and touching you just the way you like it, like you won’t break, like you’re solid under his touch and he can hold on tight, even leaving bruises. All you can do is collapse on top of him and hope he has enough strength for the both of you. His grip on you fastens even further, holding you as close as physically possible to him, but even that is barely enough. You just want to stop feeling where your body stops and his starts; you want the two of you to become one.

Just when you think it couldn’t get better, Asahi starts talking. The words flow out of his mouth like he’s not thinking about them, and he can’t halt them. “I‘m gonna… gonna cum inside you, gonna fill you up with my cum and put a baby inside that beautiful body of yours. Gonna give you a fucking baby and then everybody will know you’re mine and mine only.” Almost every word is punctuated with a harsh thrust, and you can only moan back in response.

And finally, everything that had formed into the tightest of knots inside of you undoes itself all at once, and your orgasm ripples through your body in waves, your body shaking on top of his as the feeling of your walls clenching around him like they never have before send him tumbling over the edge as well, pulling a second release out of him tonight.

The both of you stay there for a few blissful moments, simply waiting for your breath to resume their normal pace and for your senses to come back down from such an intense high. His hands roam your back and your fingers graze through his hair, anchoring touches as if trying to tether yourselves to each other.

You manage to recuperate a bit of energy and ask Asahi if he wants to go take a shower to clean up together, which he sleepily but gladly agrees to. He even starts a bath, which you tip-toe into after you’ve soaped each other clean in the shower, not without some giggles, wandering hands and curious lips. You sit back between his legs, letting the combined warmth of his body and of the water relax you.

“I’m sorry about tonight,” he suddenly apologizes after he’d been silently tracing patterns on your forearm for a small while.

“What? Why?” you ask, voice laced with concern as you turn your head, the side of it resting on his chest so that you can hear his heartbeat. Slow and steady, as always. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I did, though. I got jealous for no reason and made you go home earlier on our night-out with our friends when none of it was even your fault.” He buries his face in your hair and presses a small kiss to the crown of your head.

You think for a few seconds before speaking next. “It’s normal to get jealous sometimes. If there was a girl chatting you up even though she knew you were in a relationship - which has happened before, by the way - I’d get jealous too. Especially cause you’re so oblivious,” you tease, and he cracks a small chuckle.

“I can’t argue with you on that one. But you’re not a lot better.”

“That’s true,” you smile. “And anyway, it’s not like either of us gets super possessive or anything. A little jealousy never hurt anyone. And I kinda like it, you know,” you add as an afterthought, smiling shyly as you take one of his hands in yours and play with his fingers. “It makes me feel like you’re mine as much as I’m yours.”

“Of course I am,” he says, bending down to kiss your ear and your cheek, making you giggle. “I’m all yours.”

“Sahi?” you call out after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

“Mm?”

“Do you actually want a baby?” you ask, remembering his earlier words, and you feel his body tense underneath you.

“Oh- God- um, about that, I, um- No! No, I don’t-”

“Oh…” you say, surprising yourself at how disappointed you are.

“I mean, yes! Yes, I do, of course I want to have babies, just not right now. But I want to have babies with you, at some point. If that’s okay, I mean. Like, if you don’t want babies, that’s fine-”

Your giggles interrupt his rambling, and he can’t help but chuckle himself. “Okay, babies, but not right now. We’re too young. But at some point.”

“At some point,” he repeats, and presses an umpteenth kiss to your head.

“What was that talk all about earlier, then?”

“Just… possessiveness, I guess. As a disclaimer, I don’t actually believe that you’ll belong to me just because I knock you up, or anything, this isn’t the Middle Ages,” he defends, making you giggle again. “And I don’t think you belong to me, at all. Not more than in the sense of I love you and you love me, so we’re each other’s, if that makes sense.”

“That makes sense,” you reassure.

“But… I don’t know… The thought of my baby in you…” he says, then takes a deep breath as if to steady himself. “Let’s just say it’s a very, very nice thought.”

You stay in the bath until the water grows cold, talking about this and that and feeling the other’s skin under your fingertips. You barely bother to dry off before getting into the bed, letting the other’s warmth and the mild heat of a summer night do the job. It takes you a while to fall asleep because you’ve both got a surge of energy from the bath, and you can’t stop giggling at nothing and planting small kisses all over each other’s faces, hands grabbing at whatever skin they can find and playing with the other’s hair. Around three a.m., just as you decide you need to calm down and go to sleep, your friends come home and cause a ruckus loud enough in the kitchen that it reaches your ears as they, you guess, make late-night ramen to appease their ebriety before going to bed.

Finally, at some point, you let the low hum of the fan, the whoosh of the waves coming to you through the open window and your boyfriend’s quiet snores lull you to sleep, and you fall into the arms of Morpheus with a smile on your face.

Because time doesn’t care about your fun, you wake up one day, and it’s already your last day of vacation.

You all spend the morning and half of the afternoon packing and cleaning up the house, or at least the parts you used, even if Jaehyuk hired cleaning staff to come after you left. Still, it’s the least you can do to not leave it disgusting.

You’re done around five p.m., and you decide to relax a bit before dinner, so you and Asahi head to the beach - for some alone time, he specifies, so that no one follows you there. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what the two are up to - you’ve been spending the whole day brushing past the other and leaving subtle touches here and there or looking at the other with nothing less than sex in your eyes, purposefully trying to rile the other up in a silence game of who will give in first.

You know you’ve won when Asahi presses into you as soon as you’ve set your little camp on the beach, which consists of a huge beach towel and a wide umbrella to hide you from both the burning sun rays and the burning stares of other beachgoers.

“What did I tell you the other day about being a brat, hm?” he taunts as he hovers over you, planting wet, ravenous kisses to your neck as his thumb plays with your bikini-covered clit.

“As if you weren’t acting the same,” you say, retaliating by palming him over his swimming trunks. In moments like these, your impatience takes over your want to tease the other, and you often end up helping each other get ready with hungry touches and open-mouthed kisses before Asahi pushes himself into you, waiting for a small moment before setting a quick and steady pace. It’s lighthearted and you can’t stop smiling even when the pleasure sets itself in your whole body, making your blood run quicker and your heart beat harder.

Asahi, who’d been desperately trying to hide his boner for the last few hours, can’t stop himself for cumming first, but he gives you no time to tease him about it, because you’ve barely opened your mouth to say something that he’s already pulled out, replaced his cock with two of his long fingers, and attached his lips to your clit, making you yelp in surprise. His tongue and digits know their way around your core like no other, and in what feels like five minutes, he’s made you cum twice around them.

“What was that for?” you ask out of breath when he’s snaked his way back up your body, after licking his fingers clean of your slick, of course.

“For making fun of me for cumming first. I can’t help it that you feel so good, you know,” he smirks, tucking sticky strands of hair because of sweat behind your ear.

“But I didn’t even say anything!”

“Didn’t need to, you were thinking it hard enough.” You punch his shoulder playfully - you’re pretending to be annoyed when there’s really nothing to complain about when your boyfriend decides to give you two orgasms in a row as ‘punishment,’ and he knows that.

Your bodies feel a bit gross from sweat so you put on your swimsuits back on and race each other to the sea, jumping in immediately without a care for how cold the water feels against your sun-heated skin. Splashing each other and playing around soon turns into making out with your hips hooked around his waist, the sea making you weigh nothing in his arms. You savor his taste especially today because this is the last day where you’ll get to kiss him, wet and salty and like he holds summer on his tongue.

You return to the beach after a while to eat the snacks you brought with and rest some, Asahi cuddling your body and resting his head between your breasts as you read the single book you’d brought on this trip and had read maybe fifty pages in two weeks from.

Sieun’s voice calling out from a few meters away gently pierces your little bubble of warmth and comfort. “We’re getting ready for dinner and Jaehyuk is making us cocktails, if you guys wanna join.”

You quickly pack up your stuff and the three of you head back to the house. “What kind of cocktails is he making?” you ask.

She smiles before answering, recognising the irony of her next words. “Sex on the beach.”

That night, as the six of you watch the fireworks that Jaehyuk and Asahi set off and that you’d bought on your first day here, you take a second to look around at your friends and their smiling faces, without a care in the world, illuminated by the colorful lights. You feel your boyfriend’s hold on your waist tighten as he brings you closer to him and lets you rest your head on his shoulder. Wherever they are, I’ll be happy. Wherever he is, I’ll be home, you think. Even if you’ve got years of life and countless adventures waiting in front of you, right now, you’re just enjoying the moment, happy to be here, surrounded by the people you love. It doesn’t feel like it could get better than this, and yet.

Your boyfriend looks down at you and you raise your head from his shoulder to look at him. You smile at each other as the others ‘ooh’ and ‘ah’ at the bright displays of smoke and fire in the night sky. His eyes tell you that there are many more happy moments to come, indeed.

permanent taglist: @k-ingzo @bbujiikseu @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 @w3bqrl @raikea10 @wntrnghts (ask to be removed/added!)

#yg treasure #hamada asahi #treasure smut #asahi smut #treasure x reader #asahi x reader #treasure hard hours #asahi hard hours #treasure imagines #asahi imagines #treasure scenarios #asahi scenarios #treasure fanfic #asahi fanfic

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savvythepirate · 1 year

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My heart is yours

Pairing: Davy Jones x reader

Warnings: None

Requested by: @royisrandom

The Request:

Hey it's been a while since I requested something and I hope you're feeling better :). Could I request a platonic comfort Davy Jones x reader where the reader is being comforted by Davy Jones. I'll leave it up to you for the details. No rush! :)

***

Despite Davy Jones being heartless and cruel, he had some sort of a soft spot for you and for you only.

Davy didn’t show it though, as he wanted to keep his reputation at stake of being the cruel, heartless creature to ever walk the grounds, or sail the seas. How you ended up on the Dutchman was quite a story, insane would be how others describe it once they hear it, after hearing you telling them that you are the only loving person having to end up onboard.

You had gone with Will Turner to help retrieve the key to the chest that contained the heart of Davy Jones. It all started with a game of Liar’s Dice and just like any fool would do, Will made the move to challenge a round with Davy Jones. Just like Bootstrap Bill, you instantly protested against it, but there was no way of having him reconsider what the hell it was that Will Turner had in mind.

“I challenge Davy Jones.” Will said, you and Bootstrap Bill quickly turn to face him.

“You idiot! Now why-“ You were interrupted by a thud coming from above your heads.

That causing you and everyone to look above and around themselves as Will Turner whispered in your ear the reasoning for his part in the game.

Davy Jones appears.

“I accept. The stakes?”

“My soul. An eternity of servitude.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as he says this, than you slightly nudge him.

“Will, come on! Don’t be stupid!” You say, as Bootstrap hisses out a single word.

“No!”

But the game continues and you could do nothing but watch it as it was happening.

“Against?”

“I want this.”

Will Turner than shows Davy the picture Jack gave him of the key to the chest which again, contained Davy Jones heart.

You watch Davy’s face contorted to limited annoyance before he asked about knowing of the key. As he does so, you could feel the anxiety prick at your heart as you waited Will to give details.

“How do you know of the key?”

“That’s not part of the game is it? You can still walk away.”

Davy slowly sat down opposite of Will Turner, which showed he accepts Will’s challenge. You watch and stare as Davy pulled out the key from under his tentacles for everyone to see before putting it back under.

While the game was about ready to begin, you could see Bootstrap Bill urging to wheeze himself into the game, but you put a stop to it by suddenly beginning to join the game yourself. It wasn’t hard to tell that seemed to make Davy’s anger grow as he barks at you about it.

“What’s this?!”

“I’m in with a matching wager. I bid three twos. It’s your bid… captain.”

“Four fours.”

Laughter could be heard from the crew surrounding outside the game.

“Four fives.”

“Six threes.”

“Seven fives.”

“Eight fives.”

Davy chuckles as he said the dreaded words.

“Welcome to the crew, lad.”

“Twelve fives.” You had said too hurriedly before foolishly continuing.

“Call me a liar up the bid.”

“And be called a liar myself for any trouble?”

Davy looked at your fives before slamming down the cup saying

“Miss. (L/n) you are a liar and you will spend an eternity on this ship. Master Turner, feel free to go ashore… the very next time we make port.”

The crew began cackling with laughter as nothing is said to Bootstrap Bill.

***

Later on in the evening, Will returns and had the key around his neck as you continue to help him escape.

During the escape plan, Will was just as confused as anyone would be when after you announced to him you’d be staying behind. He didn’t understand why, and quite frankly, neither did you. Something was holding you back and you didn’t know what, and maybe you did but didn’t want to admit it. But it was in your heart that helped you to see the light in the truth that you were staying behind for Davy Jones.

“Are you sure, (Y/n)?” Will asks.

“Yes. Positive.”

“There’s no way I can get you to change your mind?”

“Nope.”

Just as Will was to go on, Bootstrap Bill shows up, handing something over to Will. Getting a closer look to it, you realized it was his Knife.

“Here, take this. Get yourself on land and stay there, it was always in my blood to die at sea. It’s not a fate I ever wanted for you.” Bootstrap declared.

You watch as Bootstrap handed Will his knife, than he turns to you with a stern look on his face.

“It’s not a fate you ever had to choose for yourself, either.”

“I know.” You simply said.

You’re suddenly embraced by Will as he promises that he will come back for you, asking you to be safe in the meantime.

“I will. Now go on before someone sees.”

You take one last look as Will rows away from the Dutchman and into the dark of night.

***

Ever since Will Turner had been of absence, Bootstrap looked after you.

Sometimes he was a hard case, but most of the time it happened as a front for the crew and captain, Davy Jones. Bootstrap couldn’t help but take notice Davy Jones has been keeping an eye on you and couldn’t figure out why. Until you had formed a bond with Davy, Bootstrap than understood.. it all became clear to him.

Wanting to keep your safety a priority, he didn’t say anything about you taking part of Will’s escape that night and it turned to be a blessing in disguise per say, as Davy ordered for you to be moved into his own quarters which would provide you more decent shelter of the ship then what the rest were getting. Things seemed to be going in your favor, until that awful night where you had to put yourself to work in the harsh winds and rainstorm. Quite a number of times did you slip on the wet and unforgiving floorboards of the Dutchman, that almost landed you overboard into the sea. One incident did occur when as you were carrying a heavy loaded bucket of water to throw back, you slipped once again and soon found yourself dangling over the side of the ship, calling out for help.

Your cries for help over the thunderous noise of the waves crashing have luckily been heard as you felt someone’s hands lifting you, hoisting you back onboard. Of course you knew it was Bootstrap Bill and with now knowing you’re back onboard, you allow yourself to pass out from exhaustion, but not without hearing your name being called.

“(Y/n)!” Davy shouts, seeing your limp figure.

Upon seeing your limp body, Davy was assuming the worst when Bootstrap gives him hope.

“She’s not dead, captain. Just passed out from exhaustion.”

“Take her to my quarters!” Davy barked.

***

Although you were still in the same drenched soaked clothing you had on when Bootstrap Bill rescued you from what your mind has told you from certain death, you don’t have any recollections of feeling so cold as the ocean’s waters that fateful stormy night where a dreadful temperature nearly matching the same of the bottom of the seabed.

You had woken in the captain’s quarters, and although your savior Bootstrap Bill was there, all you wanted was Davy Jones.

Little did you know, DavyJones was just right outside when he heard the sound of you gurgling, seemingly struggling to catch some air to breathe until you could at last. A silent sigh of relief left from him as he walked over to check on your well-being.

All Davy Jones truly wanted now was to provide some sort of comfort for you, although it was now just the two of you as Bootstrap Bill left to continue work upon orders. However, you still seemed to be struggling to breathe at a proper rhythm and as you do, Davy Jones was trying to figure out a way on how to help you, any Lille bit could save your life.

Davy than rushes over to you, reaching his more human hand out towards you, which you did take without hesitation. As you do that, he begins to speak on telling you what to do, and you so, you started feeling better little by little, and even comforted.

“Just breathe… breathe and everything’s going to be okay.” He tells you.

Though you shouldn’t believe him, you do. It was different being in his presence, yet comforting as you felt safe enough to allow your hand to continue to rest in one you were currently holding.

Weirdly enough, this brought you the kind of comfort that was enough to have you lean your head back onto the soft pillow beneath you while falling back asleep in the care and comfort of Davy Jones.

The man you would soon have fallen for, as he would you.

Before your lights went out for the next little while, Davy Jones didn’t let you go without a few more words left to say before you awake once again.

“Just rest. I’m here.”

And than…

“My heart will always belong to you. My heart is yours.”

***

Requests: OPEN

@savvythepirate

Tags: @royisrandom @always-on-hiatus @princessofthornsandroses @justafairytailofinnocence @marsswann @friendlynova @mypookiebeardavyjones @imalittleoutthere @personlovinganime

Characters list:

• Jack Sparrow

• Davy Jones

• Hector Barbossa

• Will Turner

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axiolaprim · 5 months

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I don't think we get to know what dorm Ramshackle originally was (I haven't gotten to any of book seven yet, I'm on book six in the English sub version…as much as I want to learn it, I don't know Japanese so I can't play it in Japanese unfortunately :')) so I made a dorm amd a history for since ✨ boredom ✨ so, here you go :)

I'm putting the information below a cut so that it doesn't take forever with scrolling if you want to just skip…and because of uncensored ideas of k!ll!ng :)

Trivia:

The name Indaecor is a blend of the words indagator or indagatoris meaning explorer in Latin and aecor meaning ocean or sea in Latin (translation according to https://www.latin-english.com/english/explorer/ since I don't know much Latin unfortunately but wanted to use it to make the name since quite a few dorms have names of words blended or even just put on top of other words)

I originally wanted to use Cruella as my inspiration since that'd be awesome and make sense considering that we're technically the housewarden and Crowley called us a "beastmaster" and she doesn't already have a dorm…and then I felt like an idiot because I remembered professor Crewel

I decided upon Captain Hook because I haven't seen any TWST adaptation of him, it would be quite easy to match him into the dorm's aesthetic with a bit of recoloration on the furniture, and he has a way that he could be seen in the light of a hero

Considering that this isn't a canon dorm and we don't know why Captain Hook was out for Peter's blood I decided to story merge

Captain Hook is called "The Captain" due to his status as a pirate captain and Peter is called "The Orphan" due to the facts that since he was so untraceable and he kept so much secret around his family that they were thought dead

Indaecor is the dorm of "chivalry"

The hook and sword are due to The Captain's hook hand and weapon of choice

The red and purple color scheme matches his coat and hat

The reason Indaecor dorm is at the gates instead of in a pocket dimension like the other dorms is because due to it's chivalrous spirit they would house anyone who needed a place to stay upon visiting Night Raven and because due to their chivalry they were the first ones to come to assistance in the case of an intruder or someone needing help either inside or outside the school grounds

The dorm uniforms (shown below) are based upon The Captain's traditional uniform

Backstory synopsis and why Indaecor was removed as a dorm:

As a young boy The Captain lived under a tyrant who wouldn't let anyone leave his reign, but one night The Captain snuck out but lost his left hand to a struggle with the tyrant. A few years pass since The Captain escaped he now has refugees he's helped escape the tyrant and they soon become a band of pirates helping more people escape while in an eternal stalemate with the tyrant.

Decades later it was found out that the tyrant was a long-time hero called The Orphan who was known for housing a gaggle of playful children and protecting them from an unnamed yet aggressive enemy which meant that the stories contradict and that they're both the villains of the stories, an idea that the headmage at the time was not fond of seeing be associated with the school and thus revoking Indaecor's status as a dorm.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst dorm #twisted wonderland dorm #twst dorm uniform #twisted wonderland dorm uniform #twst fanart #twisted wonderland fanart

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standfucker · 1 year

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Sunrises; part 3: Days Five, Six, and Seven

Read Part 1 Here and Part 2 Here!

@rogerpirateswk

Word Count: 11,990

CW: None

Ao3 Link

Day Five.

You spend most of the day sleeping, body and mind recuperating from the panic attack. The sun’s dipped below the horizon by the time you wake, the last light of dusk fading out.

Much of the crew greets you as you pass by them on the deck. No one brings up the prior day, though a few do ask if you’re feeling better, which you hastily assure is the case. The first thing you do is find Scopper, who beams once he catches sight of you.

“Hey there. Rest well?” He briefly touches your forearm, making your heart leap. Yesterday’s moment rushes to the forefront of your mind, your hands tingling with the memory of holding Scopper’s.

“Yes! All better now.” You fidget a little, flustered at whatever it is that hangs between you two. You both know it’s there, you both felt it the prior night. And while it’s somewhat nerve-wracking, you can’t stop smiling, either.

“Sorry I didn’t wake you. Seemed like you needed it.”

“You’re right, I did. But that’s okay. There’re still two more sunrises left.”

“Two more…” Scopper says glumly.

Up until then, you had only been eager to get back to the safety of the Marine outpost. But at the hint of dejection in Scopper’s voice, you’re struck by the fact that you’ll probably never see him again. He sees the realization in your eyes and brightens up, though you can tell it’s forced.

“Then we’d better make ‘em count,” Scopper says, taking your hand, “yeah?”

“Yeah!” You automatically squeeze his hand in response. Whatever it was growing between you, it couldn’t go anywhere. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t savor it while it lasted.

What am I doing?

It was okay, you told yourself. This was all temporary, fleeting. Not something you had to analyze up and down. You could worry about it after you were back with the Marines and everything was over. For now, just live in the moment.

A pair of rapid footsteps approaching from behind you makes you quickly withdraw your hand. From the lightness of them, you instantly know it’s the kids. You turn to face them, and they come screeching to a halt in front of you.

“Y/n!” Buggy shouts. “You’re okay!”

“We thought you were dying!” Shanks yells. “When Doc told us it was a panic attack, I was surprised! It didn’t look the same as I’d seen from–”

“Oi!” Scopper cuts him off, shooting him a warning look.

Shanks clams up, making Buggy point and laugh at him.

“Idiot!” Buggy jeers.

“You’re the idiot!” Shanks snarls.

“What did you two want?” you interrupt before they can escalate. “Or did you just come to say hi to me?”

Both kids blush at the comment, firing off furious protests that contradict their earlier greetings. Scopper chuckles next to you, leaning in to whisper, “I think they like you. They normally take longer to warm up to new people.”

“Okay, okay,” you concede, raising a hand as if that would silence the two, “you didn’t come to say hi. What, then?”

“Play with us!” they say in unison.

You hesitate. It would be one thing if that request came from normal children. You’re not sure what kind of play is involved for ones raised by pirates, and the sword sheathed at Shanks’ hip does not inspire confidence.

“Play, how?”

Buggy draws a pair of short daggers from his pants, brandishing them far too exuberantly for your liking. “Let’s spar!”

You step back, bumping into Scopper’s chest, but you’re too concerned about the child with sharp objects to feel shy. “Nope! No thank you. I don’t know how to fight, anyway.”

“They said they weren’t a Marine, dipshit,” Shanks says to Buggy.

“Hey!” you snap, “be nice.”

“Make me!”

“Shanks…” Scopper says, voice low in warning, “behave.”

Shanks tenses, but stands his ground, teeth grit defiantly. “Why? Buggy’s a jerk all the time!”

You crouch in front of Shanks to look him in the eye, hands on your hips. “You and Buggy are the only kids on this ship. Maybe on this whole stretch of sea. You have to look out for each other.” You look at Buggy, too, to make sure he’s heard you. “Understand?”

“Yes,” the boys grumble.

“Good!” You stand up straight.

Buggy reaches over and slaps Shanks hard across the face, then bolts.

“Agh! You bitch!” Shanks spits, tearing after Buggy and tackling him to the ground.

You and Scopper have to pull the boys off of each other. Luckily, it only takes another stern command from Scopper for them to stop trying to break out of your hold to fight.

“How about this?” you offer, growing exasperated, “you two work it out by sparring–without weapons–and I’ll watch?”

“Without weapons?” Buggy sneers.

“That’s lame!” Shanks says.

You have no interest in watching children get cut or stabbed, but you’re pretty sure you can change their minds.

“Oh…” you exaggerate your disappointment. “I was wondering if pirates knew anything about hand-to-hand combat. I used to watch cadets spar, so I was hoping you could show me, too… But I guess it’s just something Marines are better at.”

The boys look flabbergasted, jaws dropping before they start rancorous outcries of denial.

You hear Scopper snicker behind you and have to repress a grin. “So you two do know how to fight unarmed?”

“Yes!” they shout.

“Then prove it!”

You wave to Scopper as the kids drag you off to a clear section of the deck, closer to the bow of the ship. Watching them wrestle, it becomes very clear very quickly that they were never taught not to fight dirty, though you suppose that’s for the best if they’ll be in life-or-death situations later on. At least they don’t try to injure each other too badly.

They’re feisty kids, endlessly energetic and as passionately combative as brothers. Where they hold back physically, they don’t spare a single thought to the spiteful things they say to each other as they fight. Just in case, you sit next to the weapons they’ve discarded off to the side, ready to prevent them from grabbing one if tensions flare too high.

Eventually, they burn off some of the energy, panting while they lean against the foremast.

“That was pretty impressive!” you commend, smiling when they puff up proudly. “Seems like the crew taught you well.”

“Did your parents not teach you to fight?” Shanks asks, fanning himself with his straw hat.

“Just a little self-defense, but I don’t really practice, so it’s not that useful.” You don’t think you could use it effectively against someone who actually knew what they were doing.

“Then do you know how to sail?” Buggy asks next.

“Not a ship like this one,” you reply. “My parents taught me how to sail short-handed, but a single-person boat is far simpler than a vessel like this. My knowledge is very basic. I can’t rig a sail or read a log pose.”

Suddenly Buggy’s jumped to his feet, expression contorting with rage as he stomps toward you. “Who are you calling ‘big nose?!’”

“What?” You stand up, alarmed at the abrupt hostility. “What are you talking about?”

“Buggy!” Shanks yells, scrambling to his feet after him, “you heard it wrong!”

Buggy’s fists are balled up, and the fury in his eyes tells you he intends to strike you. Before he can get any closer, you hold him back with an outstretched hand firmly on his head, fingers digging into his hat to grip the hair underneath. There’s enough height difference between you two that he can’t reach you past the length of your arm, though he makes a valiant effort, swinging his fists wildly but ineffectively.

Shanks pauses once he sees that you’re okay, looking amused at Buggy’s fruitless attempts.

“Chill out! That’s not what I said!” you try to explain, but Buggy’s not having it, growling and cursing as he tries to reach you. You consider knocking him down with a move your dad taught you, but it seems like overkill for the situation–he’s just a kid.

Then Buggy reaches into his pants and pulls out a knife.

Alright, you wacky little shit. You will be having none of that, thank you very much. You wrench the knife away from Buggy so he won’t hurt himself when he falls, then sweep his legs out from under him. Being rusty, it’s not the cleanest move you’ve done, but he’s both small and not expecting it from you. Buggy goes crashing to the ground with a yelp of surprise.

Shank bursts into hysterical laughter. A few of the crewmates who witnessed the spectacle laugh, too. As Buggy pushes himself up, his scowling face going red, you can’t help but feel a little bad for him even though you’re still cross.

“I can’t believe you drew a knife on me!” you say incredulously, though you probably shouldn’t be shocked. “You could have really hurt me, Buggy!”

“You made fun of me!” Buggy yells, like that makes it okay.

“I said ‘log pose,’ you walnut!” you admonish, “if you had listened, this wouldn’t have happened.”

Shanks is laughing so hard he’s doubled over. “Bahaha! Buggy! You lost to someone who’s not even a Marine or a pirate! A nobody!”

You narrow your eyes, then sweep Shanks’ legs out from under him, too, sending him sprawling on the ground. The crewmates watching howl with laughter.

“Hah!” Buggy points at Shanks. “They got your ass too!”

“Not fair! I wasn’t ready!” Shanks cries.

“Watch your mouth next time,” you huff, crossing your arms. “You’re not pirates quite yet.”

Despite what you say, you’re pretty sure that in a fair match where you’re both armed, you would lose to either of the boys. You won’t tell them that, though. They’re already looking at you differently than they have before, with a touch more esteem.

“Y/n!” A familiarly excitable voice calls out behind you. You turn to see Mr. Momora cavorting your way, stopping a little too close into your personal space to be comfortable.

“Good evening, Mr. Momora,” you greet, taking a step back.

“I was waiting, but you were indisposed yesterday! Now we only have a day!” he practically shouts. “I made changes!”

“What are you talking about?”

“The song, Marineling!”

The memory of the duet makes you smile. “You made changes to the song?”

“Yes! I was so inspired by how good it sounded, I stayed up all night working on another version. I wrote parts for Taro and Moony, too! We’re gonna have a quartet!”

You pause, remembering what Taro said. “You wrote parts for the instruments they already play, right?”

“Yes?” Mr. Momora looks at you like you’re being ridiculous. “Why would it be anything else?”

“Um… No reason. Nevermind.”

“Anyway, I want to debut the song during tomorrow night’s party!”

“You’re having a party?” you ask. “What for?”

“We’re having a party! And isn’t it obvious? To celebrate your last night with us!” Mr. Momora is unfazed by your astonishment, bending over so he’s closer to your level. “You’ll play, won’t you?”

Shanks and Buggy come to either side of you, Buggy holding your sleeve possessively. “We were already playing, Mr. Momora! Go away!” he barks.

“Yeah, wait your turn!” Shanks says.

Their wanting of your attention spreads warmth through your chest, making you smile wider. “Why don’t you two go get cleaned up for dinner?” At their hurried protests, you add, “unless you want me to embarrass you in front of the crew again?”

That stings their pride enough to reluctantly concede, though they mutter under their breaths as they go. You promise them you’ll hang out with them again later.

Mr. Momora ushers you to the mess room, where he’s already set up music stands and instruments. Along with the two guitars from the other day, you also see a drum set and a double bass that’s taller than you are.

“Taro and Moony started practicing their parts yesterday, so they’re ahead of you. But with how quickly you picked up the guitar, I’m sure you’ll catch up in no time!” Mr. Momora says. “They’ll join us after finishing their shifts.”

You’re more than happy to play again, especially knowing that you’ll get to play in a proper band–something you’ve never done before. Crewmates come and go from the mess room as they complete their duties, and a little while later, Shanks and Buggy come in, now clean, taking seats across from you to watch you and Mr. Momora practice. The longing on their faces gives you an idea.

“Mr. Momora?” you ask, “if you want another music partner, why don’t you teach Shanks and Buggy to play?”

“Absolutely not!” Mr. Momora flares, shaking his head rapidly. “Those demons break everything they touch! No way I’m letting them get their calamitous little hands on my instruments.”

“Then buy them cheap ones. I’ve seen the treasure hold; I know your crew can afford it,” you say, “kids should have the opportunity to play music. Even if they’re growing up on a pirate ship. Don’t you think?”

“Hmm…” Mr. Momora pouts, hunching over his guitar.

“Imagine them learning the songs you write. Imagine getting to play it together!”

“Hmmmm…” He hunches further.

“If you don’t, then Taro or Moon Isaac Jr. might convert them to play their instruments instead.”

That makes Mr. Momora sit straight up, eyes widening. He blinks at you, then looks at the kids, then back at you. “...I suppose you have a point! I will contemplate this proposal.”

The boys light up where they’re sitting, and you send them a sly wink when Mr. Momora’s not looking.

Taro and Moon Isaac Jr. join you later on. Given Taro’s attitude toward Mr. Momora the other day, you’re surprised to see his demeanor change once he’s in the seat of the drum set, becoming far more jovial than you’d ever seen him all week. Moon Isaac Jr., on the other hand, does the opposite–ever in a jolly mood, he unwinds considerably once he starts playing, focusing on the music with a seriousness you’ve never seen from him.

Once the mess room starts filling with crewmates, Mr. Momora yells that the four of you need to move elsewhere so the song is a surprise. Taro points out that there’s nowhere on the ship you could go where the crew wouldn’t overhear, anyway, which Mr. Momora has no choice but to accede to.

Practice is a lot of fun, and you talk about it enthusiastically with Scopper over dinner, sitting next to him as usual.

“Unlike the ukulele’s nylon strings, guitar strings are typically made of steel. It’s harsher than I’m used to,” you explain, brandishing your hands to show the developing calluses on your fingertips, “but it’s worth it! I’ve always wanted to play in a band.”

Scopper brushes his fingertips over yours to feel them for himself, sending goosebumps down your arms. Years of sailing and fighting has gnarled his hands far rougher than yours, but it’s nothing new to you as someone who’s grown up with Marines. You kind of prefer it, actually, but you keep that to yourself.

“Once you get home,” Scopper says, “you should look for other people to play with. It was plain to see how much you were enjoying yourself.”

Your parents would never approve, but you no longer care. It was far too much fun to ever consider not doing it again.

“I’ll join a band,” you say intently, grinning, “and maybe we’ll become so famous, you’ll hear about it from wherever you are.”

Scopper grins back. “I’d like that.”

It hits you later, once you find yourself relaxing more deeply than you have all week, that you no longer feel unsafe on the ship.

Day Six.

Scopper wakes you for the sunrise. Much of the day crew is already there, assembled for the morning ritual. Scopper stands so close beside you that his arm touches yours. You lean into him as you watch the sun.

Roger lets Mr. Momora, Taro, and Moon Isaac Jr. off early in the day so you can all practice for the evening. The changes for the guitar parts aren’t drastic, so once you get that down, the majority of the time is spent working on harmonizing the four parts and sharpening your timing. You’re in the middle of a break when Rayleigh pulls you aside.

“We need to talk about tomorrow,” Rayleigh says solemnly.

A curl of anxiety creeps through your gut at his seriousness.

“Okay. What about?” you ask.

“About what you’re going to tell the Marines.”

That makes you pause. It’s not like you have to get your stories straight–Roger’s crew won’t exactly be conversing with them, so you’re not sure why it matters.

“I’ll tell them how you saved me!” you say. “Maybe they’ll pardon you…” Your confidence falters as you say it, knowing how unlikely that is.

Rayleigh knows it too, smiling sadly. “You can’t do that, Y/n.”

“Why not?” you frown. “It’s the truth.”

“That doesn’t matter. Listen to me,” Rayleigh says firmly, looking you in the eye, “you have to tell them you were captured. Understand? Not just for your sake, but for your parents’ as well. They could lose station if their kid was thought to be consorting with pirates.”

The revelation nearly steals the breath from your lungs, because you immediately know he’s right. Somehow, the thought never crossed your mind. You cover your mouth. “Oh, shit.”

“Yeah. So here’s how the story will go: We wiped out the Marine crew, took you as a hostage, and you spent the week in the brig.”

“No!” you shout, surprising Rayleigh. Then you cringe at having yelled at the first mate. “S-Sorry. But I can’t agree with that! You didn’t kill those men! You can’t just take the blame!”

“Y/n,” he says your name gently, like a parent about to explain a life lesson to their child.

“No!” You hold your ground, fists balled up at the injustice. “I won’t lie about their deaths! I refuse!”

Rayleigh’s quiet as he deliberates, taking in your determined expression. Then he smiles slowly. “You’re something else, you know that? Alright, then, fine. The beginning of the story can be the truth: The Marine crew was killed by other pirates. We found you a few days later and took you as a hostage. That acceptable to you?” He says the last sentence teasingly, making you realize how absurd it is for you to be making demands.

You unclench your fists, relief drooping your shoulders. “Yes, sir. I can live with that.”

“So long as we’re on the same page,” Rayleigh pats your head. “Go enjoy your last day, now. We’ll arrive at the Marine outpost before sundown tomorrow.”

It’s not hard to stay busy. Once Mr. Momora is satisfied with the song, you spend the rest of the afternoon entertaining the boys. The last time you painted with them, Buggy pretended like he wasn’t interested in such a “lame” activity. This time, he bashfully asks if you can all do it again. You have to put a sheet down over the workspace with how much messier the kids are, and they end up being covered in paint, but they hold up their creations proudly in the end.

In the beginning of the week, the hours had dragged on, every minute seeming to expand with your nervousness. Now that you’re comfortable and engaged all day, the time flies by. It’s a bittersweet contrast, one you find starkly unfair.

Before you know it, the sun’s gone down, and the party is in full swing. Even the night crew joins in, and the day crew happily introduces you to them all. Tone dials blast lively music in the background. Food and booze is abundant, and for the first time, you accept a mug of grog, much to the delight of the crew. They don’t water it down as much as the Marines do, so you have to pace yourself.

A crewmate named Ganryu tries to invite you to join a drinking contest. You giggle, but his lack of amusement tells you he’s serious.

“You’re twice my size,” you point out, “how would that be fair?”

“Bankuro’s a short king, and he can outdrink half the crew,” Ganryu states.

You look a few seats down, where, surely enough, Bankuro is currently drinking Mugren under the table.

“Sorry, but I’m not much of a drinker in the first place. I appreciate the offer, but I will respectfully decline.” You pause. “Besides, we reach the Marine outpost tomorrow. Should you all be drinking that much?”

“Trust me, we’ll be fine.”

The crew swaps stories around the table, though having mostly heard each other’s already, they’re more interested in yours. You tell them the craziest ones you know, stories you’ve heard from your parents about the wilder incidents among the Marines. Being told secondhand, the stories don’t really compare to the ones the pirates have lived, but they listen and laugh all the same.

Jacksonbanner, a tall man who’s curly hair completely obscures his eyes, slings his arm over your shoulders. “I’m glad you’re not a Marine, Y/n,” he says. “I’d hate to have to kill you.”

“Dude,” you say flatly.

The crew rolls with laughter, and you can’t help but laugh, too.

“You are all so fucked up!” you cackle. “Do you know what the captain said when he found me? He joked about torturing me for information! Like that would be funny in that situation!”

“It was a little bit funny,” Rayleigh mutters, making Roger crack up.

“I was literally dying,” you say, but Rayleigh can see from your grin that you’re not actually upset. You turn back to Jacksonbanner. “Anyway, I guess I’ll take that as a compliment?”

“So long as you take it,” he says coyly. He squeezes your arm, and you stiffen. There’s a drunken flush to his cheeks that disappears under his hair.

Scopper, sitting on your other side, reaches over and peels Jacksonbanner’s arm off of you. The latter’s head snaps up to look at Scopper, and… Well. With Jacksonbanner’s hair and Scopper’s shades, you can’t say for sure that they’re exchanging glares, but you feel the tension there all the same.

“What gives, Scopper?” Jacksonbanner says thickly. “You don’t have dibs.”

“It ain’t about dibs,” Scopper says with equal venom. “They’re not interested.”

“Hi! Excuse me. I’m right here,” you chirp.

When neither of them back down, Roger calls out from further down the table. “Hey, knock it off, men! What have I told you about fighting over hole?”

The crude statement catches you so off guard that you spit out your drink. Then you laugh until you’re tearing up. For some reason, it really gets to you. Maybe it’s all the stress from earlier in the week finding a better outlet. You’re not sure. Nevertheless, you’re in hysterics, continuing to laugh until you’ve fallen out of your chair and the tears are streaming down your face.

“Man down!” Roger yells, making you laugh even harder.

It’s not clear if it’s Roger’s words or your reaction that breaks the tension, but either way, Jacksonbanner and Scopper put it past them, their cheerful dispositions returning in full force.

You’re dizzy by the time you regain composure. Scopper offers you a hand, helping you back into your seat. He doesn’t let go right away.

“Thanks,” you pant, wiping at your face with the heel of your free hand.

“Here…” Scopper plucks a clean napkin from the table with his other hand and dabs at your cheeks, which get so warm in turn that you’re afraid he’ll be able to feel it through the paper.

You tense, waiting for the expected jeers and wolf whistles from the crew, but it never happens. You do, however, hear someone mumble “You never had a chance, ‘Banner.”

Scopper doesn’t let go of your hand until Mr. Momora declares that it’s time to play his song, and you have to get ready. The tone dials are shut off, the crew falling respectfully silent. You and the band only warm up briefly, as you’re only going to play one song, but you’re thrumming with excitement the whole time.

“Just like we practiced,” Mr. Momora says, then counts you off.

Life before, you play alone for four measures, with Mr. Momora jumping in on the fifth. For a few seconds, it’s just the two of you weaving the introduction together. Then, on the eighth measure, Taro and Moon Isaac Jr. join in, and the song commences in full, taking hold of all four of you.

While the main tune is largely the same, the addition of the other two instruments transforms the whole piece. Steady drum beats set the pace, a frame from which the other musical components are built up. The timbre of the double bass reverberates, adding depth to the ensemble. The simple structure of the initial version of the song has been built off of, modified with additions that showcase the ability of the instruments. The guitars are still the star of the piece, but the drums and bass provide the foundation that makes them shine in the first place.

And the feeling–what a feeling! Much like with painting, you lose yourself in the bliss of creation, compounded by your connection with the players around you. For a few minutes, the rest of the world falls away, leaving nothing but the mess room and the music you fill it with. You can’t look up, but you don’t need to: You can feel the pulse of the audience as easily as your own heartbeat, seeming to strum alongside the plucking of guitar strings.

The guitar parts separate and rejoin like waves lapping against a shore, going off onto their own melodic tangents before falling back together into a perfect harmony. At only a minute longer than its predecessor, and with a faster tempo than before, the song seems to end almost as soon as it began. Like a reflection of your time spent on the ship, you have mixed feelings now that it’s about to be over.

You and Mr. Momora draw out the final notes, and before they’re even finished echoing, the entire crew breaks out into thunderous cheers and applause. The noise rolls over you like a song of its own, and you look to the other three players. All four of you are beaming.

“Yesss!” Mr. Momora hisses, setting his guitar down before jumping to his feet, turning to face you with tightly clenched fists. “Yes yes yes! That was perfect! I knew the other two would do great, but you played most excellently!”

“T-Thanks,” you look down, flustered by the praise.

“Don’t look away from me! Look me in the eye!”

Mr. Momora looms over you, and you leap to your feet in anticipation of another shakedown, ready to jump away if he goes to grab you again. But he keeps his hands to himself, though not without struggle–he’s literally vibrating with the effort to contain himself. His gaze is piercing, but the intensity comes from a profound joy, one you feel within yourself thanks to the music.

“Well done, Marineling!” Mr. Momora exclaims, grinning from ear to ear.

“You wrote it! The credit’s all yours.”

“But I couldn’t have realized my vision without you! Ah, what a shame you won’t be sticking around. A quartet is far grander than a trio.”

“All the more reason to teach the kids how to play,” you smile, glancing at where the boys are sitting. They had listened raptly during the song, and now that it’s over, have proceeded to busy themselves jabbing each other with chopsticks.

The crew piles on the praise once you return to your seat. You’re not accustomed to so much flattery, and the attention becomes quickly overwhelming. In need of a break and some fresh air, you excuse yourself to step outside.

A few crewmates are hanging out on various parts of the deck. You find an empty spot on the bow of the ship and lean against the railing, taking a deep breath. The night air is cool on your skin and in your lungs, helping to clear your head. Though you had a bit to drink, the heaviness of the food kept you from getting any level past tipsy, and the buzz is already starting to fade.

The ship’s lights cast a muted glow, barely illuminating the deck before getting swallowed up by the pitch blackness of the surrounding ocean. You almost can’t see the water with how dark it is, if not for the reflection of the stars on its surface, glittering like snow. While the darkness of the untamed sea continues to instill a deep-seated, instinctive fear, there’s also something calming about it at the same time. A tranquility that lets you get lost in your thoughts. In the open ocean, there’s no one around to cast judgment. The crew was capable of it, sure, but they had witnessed the core of you, the most fragile parts of your being, and never once made you feel broken for it.

The events of the week almost seem like a dream. If your frenzied emotions throughout hadn’t been so raw and all-encompassing, you would have thought that you died on the Marine ship and imagined the whole thing as you passed into the next life. But you were very much alive, with only Roger to thank for it. And despite existing as a tightly-wound ball of nerves, your sanity remained intact, largely thanks to one other person.

You hear footsteps behind you. As if being summoned by your thoughts, Scopper appears by your side, once again standing so close that his arm touches yours.

“Hey there,” he says softly, “you doing okay?”

“Mhm. Just taking a break,” you reply, leaning into him. “You guys sure know how to throw a party.”

“Wilder than you’re used to, I bet.”

“Oh, not necessarily.”

“No?” Scopper removes his shades now that he’s out in the dark, hanging them on his collar and looking at you with interest.

“I grew up on base, so my friends were other Marines’ kids,” you say. “Most parents have trouble not bringing work home, so to speak, and tend to be strict, so their kids can be pretty repressed. And let me tell you, no one cuts loose like a teenager with daddy issues and no common sense. I’ve seen some crazy shit. Nothing in comparison to your crews’ stories, but they were crazy to me, at the time. Although, now…”

Scopper waits for you to finish, but you trail off, going quiet with realization.

“Now…?” he repeats, prompting you to continue.

“Now, not only do I have a story that blows everything my friends and I have experienced out of the water, but I can’t tell it to anyone at all. I have to say I was captured. I have to lie to everyone.”

“Hmm… Well, why don’t you think about it this way?” Scopper holds your hand, threading his fingers with yours. “It’ll be our secret.”

The warmth of his hand seems to spread throughout your whole body, your heartbeat picking up. “Our secret, huh?”

“Just you, me, and twenty seven other dudes.”

You laugh. “I could think of worse people to share it with.”

“I’m relieved that you and the crew warmed up to each other,” Scopper smiles. “They’re family to me. I wanted you to like them.”

“They could have gone easier on me in the beginning. But now that I know them a bit better, I get it. This crew is special. I mean, I’ve never met another pirate crew, but I just know it. You’re different. You especially, Scopper… You were nice.”

Scopper pauses. “...Do you think I’m nice to everyone I meet?”

“That was the impression I got.”

He chuckles. “Don’t get the wrong idea about me, love. I’m still a pirate.”

Your heart skips a beat at the pet name. “Why, then? Why did you treat me the way you did?”

“What can I say?” Scopper’s grin is cheeky. “You took my breath away.”

You shoot him a disbelieving look that he would make such a terrible joke, which makes Scopper laugh, and his laughter makes you laugh, too.

“Well,” you giggle, “you certainly returned the favor.”

Scopper’s grin turns sheepish. “Sorry…”

“It’s okay. If it hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t have had you protecting me those first few days.”

“I would have protected you regardless.”

Your chest swells with heated elation, and you rest your head on his shoulder. “Thank you… You didn’t have to stick up for me the way you did. It helped. It really, really helped.”

“Glad to hear it.”

The two of you look out over the shadowy water for a quiet moment, soaking in each other’s presence.

“Rayleigh says we’ll arrive before sundown tomorrow,” you say faintly, “this is my last night on the ship.”

“Yeah…” Scopper sighs and squeezes your hand. “It’ll be a load off my mind to know you’re home safe.”

“I was never in any danger here. I get that, now.”

“True, but you didn’t have an easy time of it.”

“Not at first, no. But in the end, I had fun.” You meet his eye. “When I get to the Marine outpost tomorrow, I’ll probably weep with relief. And yet… Despite that… I kind of want to stay another night. Isn’t that messed up?”

Scopper looks surprised for a second, then grins wide. “Maybe just a little bit.”

A familiar pair of light footsteps clatters across the deck toward you, making you look over your shoulder to see the boys. Shanks is bleeding from his left nostril, and the sight of blood startles you, letting go of Scopper’s hand so you can turn around all the way.

“Shanks? Why are you bleeding?” you ask.

“Me n’ Buggy had a competition to see who could get a chopstick furthest up their nose,” he explains blithely. “I won!”

“Um… Okay. Why don’t you do me a favor and never do that again?”

“Why?”

“Because,” Scopper says gravely, “if you slip, you could stab through your brain and die.”

Shanks and Buggy gasp, horrified at how close they came to death.

You bite your lip to keep from smiling. “I hope it was a clean chopstick, at least. Otherwise you could get a sinus infection.”

The boys exchange worried glances that tell you otherwise.

“They’ll be alright,” Scopper says, “with all their rolling in the dirt and eating shit off the floor, they’ve built up a strong immunity by now.”

“You’re not giving me confidence about their situation, Scopper,” you say, bending down to wipe at Shanks’ lip with your sleeve. He jerks away, making a face, and you tut at him to hold still. “I have half a mind to take them with me tomorrow.”

Scopper knows you’re joking, but Shanks and Buggy look aghast and start shouting protests.

“No way! I don’t wanna go with you!”

“You can’t make me go! I won’t!”

“Calm down!” you chide. “I wasn’t being serious. I wouldn’t separate you from your family.”

They settle, but look at you warily.

“Don’t worry, boys,” Scopper reassures, “no one on the crew would let that happen.”

They relax fully at that. You smile, comforted by the obvious love the crew has for them.

Buggy looks between you and Scopper suspiciously. “Why were you holding hands?” he demands, mildly disgusted.

Before you can answer, Shanks chimes in. “I know why!”

You’re immediately apprehensive, remembering Shanks’ response to your bruises earlier this week. Scopper looks even more worried, grimacing like he knows what’s coming.

“Scopper talked about you!” Shanks tells you earnestly. He glances at Scopper, then takes a few steps back.

“Shanks–” Scopper starts to say, only to be cut off.

“He said you’re hot!”

“Shanks, you little rat bastard!”

Before you have any chance to react to the new information, Scopper has drawn one of his axes and hurled it at Shanks.

You scream, but Shanks dodges it, scampering away on all fours.

“Scopper!” you shriek, grabbing his arm with one hand, the other clutched over your petrified heart.

“He’s fine,” Scopper grumbles. “I wasn’t actually trying, and Shanks is nimble. Buggy, too.” Scopper throws his second axe at Buggy to demonstrate, making him squawk and jump out of the way before racing off.

“Scopper!”

“Don’t worry so much, Y/n. They’re not normal kids.” Scopper goes to retrieve his axes, sheathing them on his belt before returning to your side.

You sag against the railing, feeling slightly faint. “I’m really gonna take them with me at this rate.”

“Good luck with that,” Scopper says, “you’ll have to fight the entire crew.”

“I’d do it for them,” you say, and he smiles. You take a slow breath, waiting for your heart to calm down, then side-eye Scopper. “So you’ve been talking about me, huh?”

Scopper tenses, then quickly sputters, “Nothing disrespectful, I swear!”

“How am I supposed to believe that?” you tease, “you said it yourself–you’re still a pirate.”

“I guess you just have to take my word for it,” he says coquettishly.

You’re going to say something about the worth of a pirate’s word, but then something Rayleigh told you at the very beginning of the week crosses your mind. Roger never goes back on a promise.

“Guess so...”

Who would have ever thought pirates could be like this? Holding to their vows, going out of their way for a stranger, protecting you, sharing in food and drink and song? There’s genuine trust between the members of the crew, which is more than you can say for the Marines. You’ve only spent a week on board the Oro Jackson, and already you long for a similar camaraderie. If anyone back home knew how you felt, how you were getting cozy with pirates, what would they think of you? And yet you don’t care, you wish only to throw yourself into whatever these feelings are and not look back.

When you don’t say anything else, Scopper nudges you. “What’re you thinking about?”

Your lip curls. “I’m thinking about how much I want to disappoint my parents.”

“Yeah?” Scopper trails his fingers down your forearm, leaving a trail of pleasant goosebumps on his way to hold your hand again.

He’s so touchy, it makes you ache. You’re going to miss him so much, and the closer he gets, the more it’ll hurt to say goodbye.

“You’re only gonna make tomorrow more difficult,” you blurt out, even though you know it’s far too late for regrets.

His hand pauses at your wrist. “...Do you want me to stop?”

You briefly reflect on the time you spent with Scopper, the conversations you shared during the week. No matter how you look at it, the same thought keeps resurfacing: It wasn’t about the journey.

It was about desire.

Doing what you wanted, no matter the consequences.

And right then, more than anything, you just wanted to be close to him. You’d never get another chance.

“No,” you quietly admit.

Instead of going to hold your hand, Scopper reverses direction, sliding his hand up your arm, over your shoulder, continuing up your neck until he’s tilting your chin up to look at him.

Your heartbeat kicks right back up as you realize his intent, written all over his face with the soft yearning he regards you with. Scopper’s thumb brushes your cheek affectionately.

Further away, Shanks and Buggy poke their heads out from their hiding spot behind the foremast.

“KISS!” Shanks yells.

An axe tossed their way sends the boys running off for good, leaving the two of you alone once more.

“Please, Scopper,” you don’t mean for it to come out so breathy, but it does. “Don’t do that.”

Scopper looks at you sharply, those captivating eyes of his seeming to burn. He cups your face in both hands. “Say that again.”

“Don’t do that?” you question, heart thundering in your chest at how he’s looking at you, touching you.

“The other thing.”

Your breath catches in your throat. “Please, Scopper,” you whisper.

Scopper leans in and gently presses his lips to yours.

Like the lights of the ship dwindling in the encompassing night, the rest of the world seems to fade away. The Oro Jackson itself may as well have disappeared, because it feels like you’re floating. All the stress, all the worry, all the anxiety, gone. In its place, something vibrant and rhapsodic fills your body, each individual cell seeming to tingle with the sheer delight of his touch. You close your eyes, focusing on the sensation of his soft lips, and don’t open them until he pulls away.

You and Scopper behold each other with awe, like you can’t believe how good it felt. Then Scopper smiles adoringly, and you giggle, and he leans in to kiss you again. The apparent absence of your surroundings is not unlike when you played the song earlier, or when you paint, absorbed in the present moment. There’s creation here, too. You find fulfillment in the motions of his mouth against yours, in his rough hands cradling your face, in the flick of his tongue across your lips.

You throw your arms around his neck, angling your head to kiss him a little deeper, and as he pulls you closer, you know that neither of you have any intention of stopping, not even if the sun rose and you arrived at your destination at that very second.

Day Seven.

The final sunrise is the most beautiful of them all. It’s almost cruel in its irony. Scopper stands behind you as you watch it, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and resting his chin on your head. Your hands come up to hang lightly on his arm.

You look at the crew around you one last time. This time, you can name the feeling that blooms in your chest: It’s fellowship. Brotherhood. A bond you had sensed but didn’t understand until now. A bond that, just for a short time, was opened up to you.

You have to bite your tongue to keep from tearing up. Not now. Not during this. You want this memory to be clear, unblurred. To recall every minute of it with perfect clarity. You soak it all in; the crew standing together, the radiant colors bursting across the sky, Scopper’s tender embrace. The warmth of his body exceeds even that of the dawn.

It simultaneously feels like ages ago that Roger saved you from the sinking Marine ship, and like it happened just yesterday.

There’s not much time left. You can’t help but feel restless, anxious at how the return is going to go. If Roger has a plan, he doesn’t share it with you. The thought of anyone getting hurt is agonizing. After what the crew’s done for you, you don’t know how you’d live with yourself if something happened to them.

You approach the captain shortly after the sunrise.

“Captain Roger?” you ask.

“Yes, Y/n?” he replies. He’s as casual as ever, not an ounce of tension in him despite the upcoming confrontation with the Marines.

“Captain, when we reach the outpost later…” You fiddle with your hands nervously. “I know this is asking a lot, but… I don’t want anyone to die because of me.”

“Ah, yes. Your parents will be there, after all.”

“Not just the Marines,” you clarify, “this crew, too! I don’t want any casualties on either side. Maybe that’s naive, but I just can’t go through something like that again!”

Roger grins breezily. “Don’t you worry, Y/n. Just for you, I won’t let anyone die.”

The captain’s particular brand of humor is something you’re still adjusting to. You’re not sure you could fully get used to it even if you spent years on the ship. Regardless, you’re too concerned to be amused.

“Do you promise?”

Like the first day you met him, Roger crouches down to your level and takes your hand, looking you in the eye.

“I promise.”

The reassurance helps you relax, letting you focus on the last hours you have on board. Shanks and Buggy are cleared of duties for the day so you can spend some time with them. You regale them with the tale of how your friend tried to steal the hat of a sleeping Rear Admiral Tsuru on a drunken dare. He learned two valuable lessons that day: One was that Tsuru had razor keen observation haki, and the other was that she had no qualms about using her devil fruit power on an insolent brat.

Scopper joins you a while later, mentioning offhandedly that another crewmate’s covering his shift, and the four of you hang out well until noon. Shanks and Buggy have their own stories to tell; their unique perspectives and simpler understanding of the world prove to be fascinating. Scopper occasionally cuts in, correcting a fact they had misconstrued or stopping them before they reveal anything too embarrassing about the crew, much to the kids’ irritation.

Lunch rolls around, and you stare at the food in astonishment when Spencer serves your portion. He’s made sesame chicken. You gape at him.

Spencer scowls, but it doesn’t have the iciness it did earlier in the week. There’s the faintest dusting of pink on his cheeks.

“It’s nothing,” he mutters, “don’t make it weird, okay?”

You resist the urge to grin, settling for a subdued “thanks.”

After lunch, you go right back to being with Scopper and the kids. At first, the boys clamor for your attention. It’s sometime mid-conversation with Scopper that you notice they’re not hanging around you anymore. Right as the thought occurs, you hear their voices from further down the deck.

“Move, Doringo! Let me go talk to Y/n!” Shanks says hotly.

“They’re leaving soon, you stupid jerk!” Buggy snaps. You hear a thump, followed by Buggy’s pained yelp.

“You shitheads have bothered them enough,” Doringo says brusquely. “Give them some time alone.”

“Why?!”

“I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

You smile at the continued thoughtfulness of the crew. Right up to the very end, they never ceased to surprise you. So it is that you and Scopper while away the time together, talking for hours without a single lull in the conversation. Sometimes you stroll around the ship as you do, sometimes you stand at the rail and look out over the sea. Every time, you remain in physical contact, whether that’s holding hands or leaning into each other’s embrace.

The night crew is woken up in preparation for the conflict, signaling that you’re getting close to your destination. You go to see Roger.

“I’m gonna miss you all,” you tell him.

“Eh, you’ve got some time,” Roger says brightly, “we still have to go get your ransom.”

“What?”

“What?” Roger echoes.

You search his face, but can’t read him at all, can’t tell if he’s joking. Looking to Rayleigh for help doesn’t work, either, the first mate opting not to provide clarity this time around, wearing a poker face that conceals his thoughts on the matter. You push away the slight sense of uneasiness. Of course Roger is joking. He wouldn’t do anything like that.

The entire crew gathers to say goodbye. Most offer their well-wishes from afar, though Mr. Momora steps forward to rest his hands on your shoulders and fervently imparts that you need to keep playing music. He manages to do so without shaking you.

“Don’t let me down, Marineling!” Mr. Momora hollers.

You crouch down in front of Shanks and Buggy, holding your arms open in invitation.

“We’re pirates, Y/n!” Shanks proclaims, crossing his arms.

“We don’t do hugs!” Buggy agrees.

The boys don’t budge even when the crew encourages them, and you stand up, laughing it off despite feeling a twinge of hurt.

“I guess it can’t be helped. Grow big and strong, okay?” you say, and the two of them nod determinedly. You turn to Roger. “That reminds me, Captain–there’s something I need to tell you.”

“What’s that?” Roger asks.

“If anything ever happens to Shanks or Buggy…” you begin, and suddenly you’re not a delicate civilian talking to a pirate captain, but a guardian hell-bent on the kids’ safety, threat radiating off you in potent waves. You smile sweetly. “I’ll find you.”

For a split second, Roger tenses, but then he breaks into a grin. “Noted.”

The moment passes, you returning to your normal self. “It was fun, sailing with you. I’ll never forget this week…” Your throat gets tight as emotion swells, and you swallow to try and correct it. “Thanks for everything.”

Roger’s grin softens, looking down at you with what you’d dare to call fondness. “Don’t sweat it, Y/n.”

An urge tugs at your heart, but you hesitate, unsure if it’s appropriate. And then you remember: Do what you want, no matter the consequences. There may never be another opportunity.

You throw your arms around Roger, hugging him tight.

Roger chuckles, wrapping his arms around you in turn. The corners of your eyes sting at his reciprocation, but you hold it in.

“How can I ever repay you?” you whisper, the warble in your voice betraying your current state.

Roger pats your back, and you release him. He holds you at arm’s length. “If you want to pay me back… then do as you please! Live a free life, Y/n! One that a pirate would be proud of! When you want something, take it! When you’re overwhelmed, scream, regardless of who’s around! Do that, and I’ll consider the debt paid.”

“I will!” you nod vigorously.

Roger lets go, a familiar look of approval flashing in his gaze.

You take a deep breath in an attempt to keep composed. “This week will be reported by the Marines as a kidnapping. I’ll never really know which stories published about you will be true, and which ones will be bullshit–but if you cause enough trouble, I’ll hear about it. Even if it’s not the truth, at least I’ll know you’re still out there.”

“Oh, make no mistake. I fully intend to.”

You grin. “I hope you make it. To the end of the Grand Line, I mean. If anyone can do it, Captain, it’s this crew.”

Roger beams. “Thank you, Y/n! We’ll carry your faith with us the whole way.”

You glance at the crew. Shanks and Buggy look conflicted now that they’ve seen Roger hugging you, both of them fidgeting in place. Sensing their change of heart, you open your arms to them one more time. Just in case.

To your delight, the boys dash into your embrace, nearly knocking you over if not for Roger placing a hand on your back. You squeeze them so tightly they squirm and giggle in halfhearted protests. The dam almost breaks, tears threatening to run. Luckily, neither of them cry–it would have instantly set you off.

You release the boys reluctantly and scan the horizon. The island that the Marine outpost is situated on has become visible in the distance, its appearance rousing your anxiety.

“Once they spot us, you won’t have much time,” you say. “Nearby ships will be called in to try and cut off your escape.”

“Your input is appreciated, Y/n, but this isn’t my first tango with the Navy,” Roger says.

Before you get the chance to feel too sheepish about that, Erio climbs down the mast from his position at the crow’s nest, waving his spyglass as he runs over to Roger.

“Hey, Captain! Want to guess who’s stationed at the base?” he says playfully.

Roger’s eyes light up. “So Garp is there!”

The name freezes your blood, eyes practically bulging out of your head in horror. You knew some strong Marines would be present on base, but you never expected The Fist himself to be there.

“Oh, fuck!” you cry out. “Are you serious?! Commodore Garp?! This is bad! This is very bad! He’s going to capture or kill you!”

Roger waves it off like it’s trivial. “This isn’t my first tango with Garp, either. Just leave everything to me.”

You place your hands on your head, tugging at your hair in stress, not assured in the slightest. If Garp was there, the chances of the crew surviving weren’t nearly as high.

“Trust in me, Y/n,” Roger says.

You want to. You want to believe this can end without the loss of life. And if Roger’s achieved one thing during this week, it’s your trust. Slowly, you lower your hands. The relief is fractional, but it’s better than nothing.

The closer the island gets, the more your anxiety heightens. Scopper comforts you, holding you as much as you need it. You all but cling to him, eyes closed as you commit the feeling of his arms around you to memory.

Rayleigh approaches the two of you, holding a length of rope. You eye both it and Rayleigh with suspicion.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says. “Listen, I’m sorry to spring this on you all of a sudden, but I really, really recommend that you let me bind your wrists.”

You take a step back, deeply apprehensive. You’ve never been bound before, and you’re not exactly in the best place emotionally to experience it for the first time.

“I’m not going to force you. But think about what the Marines will see when they scout our ship, Y/n. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, but this will give you less explaining to do afterwards. Make it look convincing.”

Scopper takes your hand, getting your attention. “Would you prefer if I was the one to do it?” he asks gently.

There’s not enough time left to deliberate. Rayleigh is right–if the Marines saw you moving freely on the ship without fighting back against your ‘captors,’ they could become suspicious.

“Yes,” you relent.

Rayleigh hands Scopper the rope. He faces you, hesitating, then brings his free hand to cup your cheek. He’s standing with his back to the island, his larger frame hiding yours so any potential scouts won’t see you submit willingly to the bindings.

Neither of you speak, everything communicated with your eyes alone. Scopper rests his forehead against yours, and the flood of emotion comes surging back, breaching through the anxiety and crashing into your heart. Then he’s running his hands down your arms, guiding them behind your back. He starts looping the rope around your wrists. Face to face with each other like this, his arms around your sides are like an embrace.

Scopper lowers his head, capturing your lips one last time, and the tears start rolling down your cheeks. He kisses you tenderly, lovingly, as he works. You wish you could hold him. All you can do is kiss him back, letting him feel every ounce of longing that burns within your heart. His lips against yours paint the same picture of covetousness. He doesn’t stop kissing you until the rope is tied securely around your wrists, and even then, he continues just a bit longer. Just a little more. Again and again, unwilling to let it end, unprepared for it to be over so soon.

But the two of you can’t stay like that forever, even if that’s what feels right. Scopper finally pulls away, and you hold each other’s gazes. His eyes are glistening. He unwraps his sash from around your neck, and it feels so conclusive that you ache, having to fight to keep your sniffs and whimpers under control.

“I’ll probably never see you again,” you say softly, the words like glass shards in your chest.

“You never know,” Scopper murmurs. “Nothing is set in stone. Unlikelier things have happened. Like a pirate crew rescuing a Marine’s kid.” He uses his sash to dry your face.

The island grows steadily larger as the distance shrinks. You can’t cozy up to Scopper anymore, the risk of being seen through a spyglass too high. Roger has you stand next to him at the ship’s bow.

Eventually, the Oro Jackson is spotted. Four Marine ships take sail on an intercept course. It’s a miracle that the outpost is on the smaller side–with fewer vessels and soldiers at their disposal, the odds of your mission succeeding are boosted.

You and Scopper exchange one final, lingering look. Then you face forward.

“Here they come,” Roger mutters, wearing his signature grin.

Your trepidation skyrockets as they get closer. You keep waiting for the shelling to start, anticipating the deafening blasts of cannonfire. When it never comes, you suddenly realize why Roger wants you up front and on display: The Marines won’t fire as long as you’re in range.

The crews on both sides expertly man the sails, adjusting them to bring the ships to a halt some distance away from each other. One Marine ship stops a bit ahead of the other three. You can see Garp’s massive form sticking out among the rest of the soldiers from where you are. He’s even bigger than Roger.

“GOL D. ROGER!” Garp bellows, his voice carrying like he’s using a loudspeaker. “When we lost contact with our ship last week, I knew something was wrong, but I never imagined it was your doing!”

“Then you need to be more creative!” Roger calls back just as loudly. “Try dreaming a little bigger!”

“Where is the crew, Roger?! Where are my men?!” Garp picks up a cannonball from a pile on the floor, winding his arm back in threat.

You tremble where you stand. The energy coming off of the two rolls over you in heavy waves, and they’re only shouting.

Roger ignores the question. “Better watch your aim, Garp! You don’t want to hurt one of yours, do you?” He grabs you by your bound wrists, pushing you in front of him.

Garp’s voice dips low. “Let them go.”

“Nope! You’ll have to make it worth my while,” Roger grins, “I came all the way out here, didn’t I?”

You can practically hear Garp grinding his teeth. “Don’t expect me to accede to your terms, Roger. But I could use the laugh! So let’s hear it, then! What are your conditions?”

“I’m glad you asked!” Roger’s giant hand wraps around your neck, and you freeze. “If you want your subordinates’ precious kid back, bring me one hundred million berries!”

An icy chill grips your heart. You can’t turn your head, but your wide eyes snap to Roger in horrified disbelief.

Was… Was this his plan all along?

Was this why he bothered to rescue you in the first place?

Were Roger’s promises empty from the very beginning, uttered to keep you calm and complacent? Roger, who gave you a personal tour of his ship? Who joined you in your overwhelmed shouting so you wouldn’t feel alone? Who sat with you while you were in the midst of a panic attack, then carried you to bed?

Your eyes well up with tears as the sting of betrayal sets in.

It’s not true, you think desperately. It’s an act. Please let it be an act. The doubt crawls through your gut until you’re nauseous.

Your breath comes out in short, frantic puffs. But it comes out. That fact strikes you suddenly, fending off your uncertainty. Roger’s grip is firm, but he’s not squeezing at all.

“Trust in me, Y/n.”

Roger glances behind him, nodding at his crew. Then he lets go of your neck, grabbing you around the middle with one arm and slinging you over his shoulder, making you yelp. Now facing the back of him, you can’t see what’s going on, but then Roger starts to sprint forward.

Toward the Marine ships.

Roger hops over the railing, charges down the bowsprit, and leaps.

Your scream dies in your throat, and you shut your eyes.

Instead of falling in the water, Roger’s launched himself with so much force that he sails clear across the distance between the ships, landing bent-legged on the deck of the main Navy vessel.

You open your eyes to see at least fifty Marines, their rifles trained on the two of you. Looking over your shoulder, you can see Garp right there, not even twenty feet away. He’s even more imposing up close, the gnarled scar around his left eye curving with the tension in his face.

Why had Roger separated from his crew? Now he had to face an entire battalion of soldiers alone. Just what the hell was his plan?

You anxiously scan the crowd for your parents, but don’t find them. You can’t make out their forms when you squint at the other ships, either. Garp must have forbidden them from joining the rescue, concerned that the personal attachment would potentially cause problems.

“Where’s the cash, Garpy?” Roger asks merrily, like he’s not heavily outnumbered.

“You’re in no position to be making demands, Roger,” Garp snarls. “You’re surrounded. At this distance, my snipers can kill you without harming L/n.”

“You really sure you wanna take that bet?” Roger shifts you in his grip, angling you over his vital spots, though his back is still vulnerable.

“Don’t be a fool! You can’t take on four ships by yourself!”

You can’t see his face, but you’ve spent enough time with Roger to know he’s grinning wide.

“Is that what you think?”

You don’t fully grasp what happens next right away. It’s like some kind of monstrous shockwave, exploding outwards with you and Roger as its focal point. Everything not secured on the ship is instantly blasted away. Almost every single Marine drops, collapsing like dominoes. Wind whips your hair and clothes so hard they sting your skin. You shut your eyes tightly against the intensity.

It feels like it goes on for minutes. Later, you’ll realize that it only lasted for a few seconds.

Once it’s over, you tentatively open one eye, then the other. The only Marines left standing are Garp and one other man you don’t know. The ones on the ground do not get back up, their eyes rolled back and foam bubbling out of their mouths. You look out at the other Marine ships to see them having fared the same, only one or two soldiers on each ship still upright.

For a moment, you’re just confused. Garp and the remaining Marines are stunned silent. Then Garp speaks, deep voice wavering with awe. He only says two words, and you finally understand.

“Conqueror’s Haki.”

You recall something your mother once told you long ago, when she had explained the three types of Haki. It was already exceptionally rare for anyone to be able to use Conqueror’s Haki, as it was something you had to be born with. Only one in several million would have the capability, and even amongst that fraction, it took rigorous training to learn to wield. Most of its users, upon flexing their ability, would indiscriminately hit everyone around them.

But the most powerful ones, she had said, could limit its effects, simply choosing not to impact certain people.

Roughly two hundred men across four ships had just been knocked out cold, and you didn’t feel a single thing.

‘Dumbfounded’ isn’t even the word. You’re gobsmacked. Just totally overcome by the implications.

The qualities of a king, they say. A candidate chosen by heaven. And he had gone out of his way to bring you here.

It wasn’t over yet. But you had a feeling it would be very soon.

“You’re so stingy, Garp,” Roger says nonchalantly. “If there’s no money, I’m leaving. Taking this one back with me, too. I’m sure I can find a buyer in Sabaody.”

Garp quickly recovers, face contorting with rage. “Like hell you will!”

Roger tilts you back. Garp lunges.

Roger throws you at Garp.

The world becomes a momentary blur, and then you hit a wall of muscle with an oof.

Garp catches you. The force of your body doesn’t even push him back, but he pauses–just for a split second–to set you down. That consideration is what Roger was counting on, that split second all he needs. He’s already launched himself back to the Oro Jackson before Garp can pursue him.

With the Marine crew down, they can’t fire the cannons. Garp hastily starts plucking cannonballs from a pile on the deck, pitching them as if they’re mere baseballs.

You’ve heard of Garp’s abilities, but you’ve never seen him in action before. Your jaw drops as the cannonballs hurtle through the air faster than if they had been fired from actual cannons. Then you cover your mouth, terrified that the crew who had taken care of you would be killed.

You shouldn’t have worried.

The Roger Pirates deflect the cannonballs. Every single one. Some crewmates use weapons to do it. Some use their bare limbs, coated in Armament Haki. Like a well-oiled machine, the crew works in sync, some defending the ship while others man the sails. Not a single cannonball finds its mark. The Oro Jackson catches a tailwind, its beautiful maroon sails snapping taught, and the ship swiftly departs, the Roger Pirates making a clean getaway.

You, Garp, and the last Marine silently watch it leave, getting smaller and smaller on the horizon.

It’s over.

Everything comes crashing down on you at once. You start to cry. Not like the repressed weeping when you said goodbye to Scopper, but gross, inconsolable sobbing.

Garp comes to your side and embraces you in an attempt to offer comfort. You can’t imagine what he thinks the pirates must have done to you.

“You’re okay, L/n, you’re okay,” he says, rubbing your back soothingly. “You’re safe now. It’s all over.”

Therein lay the problem. It was over.

The downed Marines eventually regain consciousness, enabling them to sail the ships back to the dock. Your parents are waiting onshore, both of them bursting into relieved tears once you fall into their arms. For a week, they had no idea what had become of you, having had to grapple with the possibility that you were dead. Naturally, the bruising on your neck severely upsets them, and it takes lots of repeated assurance that you weren’t taken advantage of for them to calm down.

Once you have a few days to decompress, you’re called in to give your account of what happened. Garp himself is the one who debriefs you. You tell it like Rayleigh had instructed, even managing to spin a story about your neck bruises on the spot: Initially trying to fight back, you were choked, and became so frightened as a result that you complied with anything the pirates asked. Given that you hadn’t lost any weight, you can’t lie and say you were denied food. Combined with your insistence that no, they didn’t take advantage of nor torture you, it paints a strange picture, one you know Garp finds suspicious. You’re fearful that he’ll pry deeper, find the flaws in your story, but he doesn’t. There’s a terrifying minute where he stares into your eyes like he’s trying to figure it out, but he only nods and dismisses you.

Adjusting to your previous life is a struggle. You cry a lot in those first few weeks. Everyone assumes your bawling is due to trauma. It’s a convenient cover. And really, you are traumatized–the slaughter of the Marine crew was only a week ago. It may take years to come to terms with it.

But everything that took place afterwards–your time spent on board the Oro Jackson–it’s changed you. You’re not the same person you were before. It’s your loved ones who point it out, noting that there’s something different about your attitude. You’re still as anxious as ever, of course. That will always be a part of you. But you’ve made peace with it now. For a week, you were surrounded by people who couldn’t care less if you weren’t normal, because none of them were, either. Their acceptance teaches you, with time and reflection, to accept yourself as well.

Roger and his crew will probably never know that what they did for you went far beyond just saving your life. That’s okay. You intend to pay your debt as Roger had said. You intend to live your life to the fullest, pirate-style–to do what you want.

No matter the consequences.

{EPILOGUE}

“What the hell is this? What on earth did you order?” your roommate grunts at the door, struggling with the cumbersome package.

It’s been half a year since your unexpected adventure. You’ve since moved in with a friend on a nearby island, putting some healthy distance between you and your parents. Without their hovering scrutiny, you can freely create to your hearts’ desire, trying your hand at any and every form of arts and crafts that you come across. And if you start to miss them too much, they’re only a short voyage away. While some of your artwork sells, it’s not quite enough to live off of yet, but you’re getting there. Like before, you fill in the gaps with odd jobs. Soon, you’ll have saved up enough for a good-quality instrument, but you haven’t quite decided what kind you want to buy yet.

You jump to your feet to help your roommate bring the package inside, frowning. “I didn’t order anything.”

“Well, it’s addressed to you. Maybe an admirer?”

You take the package to your room. The outer wrapping is tough, needing a knife to cut through it, and the box within is sturdy enough to have survived the journey with no dents. You have no idea what to expect when you open it.

Inside the box are layers of cloth, bundled around something hard. You lift the bundle and peel away the cloth carefully, pausing when a corner of the item is revealed. It’s immediately familiar, something deep red with a gold trim.

No way. How…?

You hurriedly remove the rest of the cloth, and surely enough, it’s your ukulele, the one that was looted off the Marine ship six months ago. It’s scuffed in a few places, but is otherwise intact.

There’s an envelope in the box that was tucked underneath the bundle. Within it is both a letter and a photograph. The letter consists of a single line in the middle:

‘Found the bastards. Momo wanted to keep the ukulele for himself. He named it Mini Jackson. ♡’

Next to the heart is a doodle of two black circles connected in the middle–a pair of shades.

You cover your mouth, heartbeat picking up. It’s only one line, but you read it over and over. You’ve never seen Scopper’s handwriting before. It’s nothing fancy, but that hardly matters, because it’s from him.

Next, you inspect the photograph. It’s a picture of three paintings hanging on a wall: In the middle is the ocean sunrise you had painted. It’s flanked on either side by cruder paintings that Shanks and Buggy had created under your guidance. You recognize the wall the artwork hangs from as the mess room of the Oro Jackson–the Roger Pirates had hung them somewhere where they would see them every day.

“We’ll carry your faith with us the whole way.”

You flop back into your bed, holding the photograph to your chest. And you cry for a while. But you can’t stop smiling, either.

You give yourself time to just feel, basking in the memories of that week.

Then you sit up and grab your ukulele. You wonder if you can adapt Mr. Momora’s song for the simpler instrument.

You intend to try.

And if it doesn’t work out, well, then you know which instrument you’re buying next.

[Obviously with the song I linked, the guitars would be acoustic and not electric, but I couldn't resist. Check out the entire Gitaroo Man album if you like music, it's full of bangers!

Thank you so much for reading!

I wanted to keep this fic SFW, but I am also currently writing a smut scene of what happened at the end of Day Six. It will be posted separately, so stay tuned!]

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #scopper gaban x reader #gaban x reader #scopper gaban #gol d. roger #silvers rayleigh #red haired shanks #buggy the clown #shanks one piece #buggy one piece #zen writes

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babyleostuff · 2 months

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౨ৎ voicemails lee jihoon leaves you while he’s on tour - fluff (with a pinch of angst), established relationship, gn!reader (pet names used: babe)

...one: hey babe, i’m just calling to say we landed safely, and we’re on our way to the hotel. i’ll try calling you again when we get there

...two: i feel like an idiot. i think i called you like ten times yesterday after we got to the hotel, but i forgot about the time difference. i really hope i didn’t wake you up

...three: the weather is so nice here. i even went on a walk today

...four: i just saw the photos you sent earlier. i was busy so i couldn’t respond, but i’m so happy you enjoyed your day. you looked lovely by the way

...five: do you think i should cut my hair? it's so long now, i'm not sure if it still looks good on me. no, soonyoung i'm serious. yes, i want to cut my hair. can you just piss off, don't you see i'm busy? anyway, let me know what you think, babe

...six: i’m really sorry i didn’t call you yesterday, we got back from the venue late at night, and i got an idea for a beat, and i just lost the track of time. i’ll make it up to you, promise

...seven: how was your day? did you remember to eat? by the way, if you have the time tomorrow, do you mind going to my studio and check if i left those black headphones you got me for our anniversary there? i can’t find them anywhere. and i also left my hoodie there, so (pause) you can take it if you want

...eight: is there anything you want me to bring back home? don’t worry about the price, just tell me what you want

...nine: make sure to clear your calendar for this saturday evening, i booked a table at the restaurant you have been talking about, so we can go out after i come back

...ten: i love you (pause) and i miss you

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @soul-is-a-strange-kid @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @aaasia111 @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity

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junetuesday · 2 years

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tom holland masterlist

♡ a collection of fics, oneshots, blurbs, headcanons etc.

♡ all tom holland x female reader unless marked with a 👤 which means the reader's gender is not specified

♡ otp

All of the stories in this section are set in the same ‘universe’ with the same couple. Apart from 12 Days they’re not in any particular order so you don’t have to read any of them to get the others.

Smut

A Covert Operation

Got a Bed With Your Name On It

Pull Over

FaceTime

Keep Quiet

Beg For It

Wanna Taste?

Whistle

Jealous 👤

Missed You

4:31am

Polo and Prosecco

Mine

Uninterrupted

Fluff

Tom Holland vs Aunt Irma

Idiot.👤

Pop. Six. Squish 👤

#BestNine

Angst

Maybe We Could Go to the Movies?👤

Blurbs etc.

‘Distraction’ kiss 👤

‘Before bed’ kiss 👤

”We just watched Toy Story 3 and now we can’t stop crying”👤

‘Everyday😘’ (Pull Over add-on)

“Hear me out, what if we have sex?” 👤

Playing video games with Tom and his brothers 👤

Tom keeps a picture of you and Tessa in his wallet 👤

”Were you dreaming about me again? 👤

“Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just pleased to see me?”👤

Bathing Tessa Headcanon 👤

10 Best Boyfriend Qualities 👤

10 Worst Boyfriend Qualities 👤

When it’s too hot to sleep in clothes... 👤

A surprise visit

Physical v Verbal Headcanon 👤

Travelling when you’re sick 👤

When you’ve had a bad day at work 👤

Misc. soft shit headcanon 👤

Tom being a salty puppy when he gets sunburned 👤

That time Tom got sick on the press tour 👤

Snoozey Tom Headcanon 👤

Swimming in the sea

♡ sweetener

Series Masterlist

♡ au/other

Smut

Somethin' 'Bout You

Thinking Bout You (FWB/Roommate AU)

Girls/Boys/Boys (Tom x Reader x Harrison Osterfield)

Truth or Dare

Forget the Bed

When in Paris (CEO!Tom)

Release (Uni AU)

Girls/Girls/Boys (Tom x Reader x Female OC)

Good Girl (Mob!Tom AU)

Crash Course (Fuckboy!AU)

Strange Occurences (Enemies to Lovers AU)

Safe (Friends to FWB)

“One Drink?” (Exes to Lovers)

Crossing Boundaries (Best Friends to Lovers)

Serendipity (neighbour!tom AU)

One Night (FWB/Uni AU)

Fluff

No Lollygaggin’👤

Lovely👤

2AM 👤

Parking Practice 👤

...and they were roommates (roommate! AU) 👤

Facial Fractures and Mugs of Moscato (Uni AU)

Angst

The Chain 👤

Absence (Uni AU) 👤

If It Means a Lot To You 👤

Gen/No Relationship Specified

Rock, Paper, Scissors 👤 (Roommates AU)

It’s Called Fashion, Thomas 👤

Blurbs etc.

Time of the Month Headcanon

Slow Down👤

Sing👤

Insufferable (Best Friends to Lovers)👤

Wake Up Call (Dad!Tom AU) 👤

Usual? (Coffee Shop AU) 👤

Parenthood Headcanon

First time getting a BJ Headcanon

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justabooknerdposts · 1 year

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Prompt request: Seven sleepover (plus Nico & Will)

*So, I had a request for a sleepover with the Seven, plus Nico and Will, hanging out and maybe having a movie night in my messages from ani2004. Here’s the response!*

Seven sleepover (post-HOO):

Early October found six of the seven demigods of the completed prophecy in the Big House rec room, watching a movie. They had gathered so that everyone could hear Jason and Piper’s report on their search for Leo. They’d been traveling around looking for him through most of September and only recently returned. After the weekend, they would be heading to LA to spend the rest of the semester at school. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much to report. They’d seen some possible signs of Leo, Calypso, and Festus having been places in the Sea of Monsters, but nothing concrete or certain. So it had been somewhat discouraging. But Piper and Jason were remaining hopeful, as were the others. After all, Leo had sent the holographic scroll. He was alive out there. Somewhere.

After Jason and Piper’s report, the evening had turned into an Argo II reunion party. Reyna had remained in Camp Jupiter to cover duties so that Frank could come here with Hazel. Nico and Will were joining them, too. Nico had come to see his sister and Frank and, as Jason said, Nico had been a part of the Argo II crew as well.

So the evening had been a nice time for everyone to catch up—they’d talked, caught up, and eaten pizza that Percy and Jason had driven the camp SUV to go get. Chiron had agreed they could all hang out in the Big House rec room, especially since it was the off-season at camp, so there weren’t many other campers here anyway. They’d hooked up Chiron’s old video game console and played idiot mode games for a while, in honor of Leo. Then, they decided to watch a movie; Frank and Will were both in the process of trying to catch Hazel and Nico up on modern movies.

“And Annabeth,” Percy said. “She was very sheltered as a child.”

Annabeth punched him lightly on the arm as the others laughed.

After the first movie, they put in a second, and slowly, everyone began to fall asleep. The last awake were Hazel and Nico, still enjoying the magic of the modern movies, as incredible as anything in their world of gods and monsters.

Hazel was curled up in a blanket on the floor beside Frank, in front of Piper, who was asleep on the couch, her head in Jason’s lap. Jason’s head was leaning against the back of the couch, his mouth open, half snoring. Percy and Annabeth were curled up on the other couch, both also asleep, Percy’s arm dangling over Annabeth’s waist. Sitting near Hazel, on the floor between the couches, and sharing their own blanket, were Nico and Will. Will had fallen asleep with his head on Nico’s shoulder. Hazel caught the look of nervous happiness on her brother’s face when he glanced down at Will.

Beside her, Frank was still awake, but mostly quiet. His arm was snug around her shoulders, making her feel cozily comfortable, even though the New York fall air was chilly and the Big House was a bit drafty. Hazel cuddled closer to Frank’s side as her eyes flicked again to Nico with Will’s head on his shoulder. Her brother looked relaxed in a way she’d never seen before.

Maybe Nico felt her eyes on him, because he looked over. A look of trepidation crept across his face. After a moment, he asked her, “Are you okay with this?”

Maybe Nico shouldn’t have said anything. The moment the words left his mouth, he wished he’d bit them back. Especially as Hazel studied him contemplatively for a long moment, her golden eyes inscrutable. Nico’s stomach tightened. He didn’t want to hide himself anymore, but he also didn’t want to lose his remaining sister. And Hazel was like him, a child from the forties, when a boy dating another boy simply wasn’t accepted.

Finally, though, she said quietly, “I just want you to be happy. Are you?”

Relief rushed through Nico. His throat was tight as he nodded.

Hazel smiled. “Good. There are benefits to this time, over the forties.” Her eyes flashed, and Nico remembered some of the terrible things she'd told him about segregation. “And if you get to be yourself now, Nico, then I’m happy for you.”

Hazel reached over and squeezed his hand. Nico returned the pressure, more appreciative than he could say.

“Love is love,” Piper muttered from the couch.

Hazel twisted to look at her friend. “I thought you were asleep.”

“I am,” Piper said, not even opening her eyes. “But my Aphrodite senses were tingling.”

They all laughed before settling back in for the end of the movie. Nico felt lighter than before, grateful for his sister’s acceptance and support. Shifting just slightly to a more comfortable position, he let himself enjoy the new feeling, strange in a good way, of Will’s warm weight against him.

Percy waited to open his eyes. He didn’t want to interrupt. His friends didn’t need him for this conversation. But once they were all back to watching the movie, he cracked one eye open to look at Nico. There was a light happiness on his face that Percy hadn’t seen in years, a hint of the kid who had once stood in the snow and enthusiastically told him about Mythomagic cards. Percy closed his eyes again, a slight smile on his own face as he snuggled down a little farther, breathing in the lemon scent of Annabeth’s shampoo, tightening his arm around her waist, grateful that his friends were also happy.

#pjo #percabeth #heroes of olympus #solangelo #frazel #jasper #ff #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #stories #requests open #request

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miredinmiddleearth · 2 years

Text

Rings of Power, Ep. 3 Review

*Detailed rant ahead*

The madness continues. Buckle up. Here are my thoughts for episode three.

1. Good grief, Galadriel’s hair only gets worse. It’s like they’re mocking me.

2. It’s weirdly jarring to see Galadriel eager for food. So non elf-like. This is the same race that nibbles lembas, yes?

Absolutely nothing separates the men from the elves in this show. In appearance, in mannerisms, or in wisdom, and that’s just criminally lazy.

3. Elendil!!! I could listen to this man talk all episode. Just scrap everything else. Sit this guy down and have him read The Silmarillion.

4. Numenor is really awesome. See? I can give compliments.

5. Oh BOY that council room scene. Whole section just for that:

ONE: I am so lost why an entire government would put everything on hold to interrogate two castaways.

TWO: The scene where Galadriel introduces herself fills me with RAGE. Throughout the episode, Galadriel keeps talking about how impressive she is and how much more she knows than anyone else. NONE of her actions speak to this, and in a person of true nobility, actions are EVERYTHING.

Compare to how Aragorn gets introduced. He NEVER introduces himself, not even as Strider. Others say his name, and awe follows. Heck, same with movie Galadriel. Her name is whispered with reverence and myth whirls around her like mist. But RoP Galadriel? Apparently the woman thousands of years older than literally everybody in the room has to list her resume in the clunkiest way possible (again, defining her own importance in relation to MEN). When I tell you how poorly this show is written, this is what I mean. Compare it to anything competent, and it falls ridiculously short.

THREE: I hope Halbrand is Sauron, because I do like the way they are setting him up as a charmer and potential manipulator. Though it’s annoying he has to be a voice of reason when two women apparently can’t talk things out rationally.

FOUR: “I would sooner knee-cap a stallion.” What does that mean?!?!?!

FIVE: Umm, what self-respecting military man as smart as Elendil would let himself be hugged by a random guy he picked up on the open water? And Halbrand is going to steal and return the dagger in front of all those people?!

SIX: Why is Galadriel always in a rush? In a time of relative peace, she can’t even wait three days?! When are elves ever in a rush to do anything?!

SEVEN: STOP GIVING GALADRIEL A ROMANCE WITH HALBRAND

6. The scene that introduces Isildur does absolutely nothing but show us Isildur knows how to pull a rope.

7. Elendil’s voice is still beautiful.

8. “The sea is always right.” A motto that’s setting up for when Numenor gets swallowed into the sea, I assume. My problem is, it just sounds dumb.

9. Water drinking scene takes sooooooooo long.

10. Oh no. Don’t kill THAT elf who I only just remembered we’ve actually met before. And he gets a choir to sing him into death? What about this feels earned?!

11. WHY DOES GALADRIEL TALK LIKE AN ANGSTY TEENAGER?! WHY DOES A MORTAL MAN HAVE INFINITELY MORE GRAVITAS AND WISDOM THAN HER?! I don’t know if the actress just can’t do passionate without sounding like a YA heroine or if it’s the writing. I think it’s both.

Regardless, I love Elendil and I want to punch Galadriel in the face.

12. Where did Halbrand get money? I do like how they are setting up his character.

13. Halbrand fight scene is brutal.

14. The mark of Sauron is idiotic. Drawing a rough sketch of Mordor on random objects? What the freak is the point?

15. Cotton clumps in the Harfoots’ hair? Weird choice.

16. The stupid “past is dead” line from the trailer is even dumber in the show. They’ve established Elendil as a man who values and honors the past. He knows how to speak Elven, he is an elf-friend, and he speaks up for old traditions. Then they give him this line? Writers, do you not see the contradiction in this?!

17. One: Impressive statue for a prison. Two: How is Galadriel allowed to wander down into the prison?

18. They better be setting Halbrand up to be Sauron, because if they’re trying to make him into this made-up knockoff Aragorn type, I am NOT here for it.

19. Seriously, I do not understand Harfoot culture. They are all about community and sticking together. But they are also about if someone falls behind, screw them. They fall behind and we leave them. WHAT ABOUT THIS MAKES SENSE?! A guy has a hurt ankle. No one can help him? No one bands together to assist? This is so infuriatingly nonsensical, I’m going to go mad.

20. Oh no. Don’t kill THAT elf whose name I never learned. (Side note: warg CGI was rough)

Okay, I am more intrigued. I have trouble looking away from this car crash. I’m curious what they’re going to do with Halbrand and this shadowy elf figure, and it might be enough to keep me going. Unless they return to more boring stuff.

#rings of power #rings of power review #lord of the rings #lotr #tolkien #jrr tolkien #the ring speaks #anti rings of power

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abysscronica · 2 years

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Small. [child!Kid and Killer + reader]

«Are you trying to scam me?»

The vendor's smile fell slightly at your pointed remark, the corner of his mouth vaguely twitching before he adjusted his plastic face.

«Not at all, miss, this is the herb you asked for.»

Your sharp eyes lowered on the dried product the man was offering.

Damn, I wish I could tell.

The doctor did all one could to make sure you got it right, but still, he should have brought his ass down the ship and bought the stuff himself.

A quiet huff escaped your lips and you grabbed the sack from the vendor's hands.

«I'm gonna give you the benefit of the doubt. If our doctor tells me that's not it, well... you'll only have yourself to blame.»

His fake smile didn't falter this time as he tilted his head to the side.

«Miss, this is John's Dockyard. You wouldn't imagine how many threats I receive on a daily basis, yet I'm still here.»

«I'm with the Kid Pirates.» you casually informed, dropping the money on the counter before heading to the exit.

«W-Wait, what did you just s--»

The door closed behind you and you winced lightly at the sun-soaked square.

The port was lively that afternoon, with pirates, prostitutes and scoundrels loudly moving across town in every direction. Vending stands crowded the dusty streets, so the salty air was heavy with the yells of sellers advertising their stuff. Every time a door of the numerous pubs opened, whiffs of alcohol and vomit merged with the already smell-pregnant environment.

You made your way towards the innards of the port, passing by brawls, and beggars, and tone-deaf musicians.

Whistles and coarse appreciations trailed your steps, but you hardly heard them anymore. You had learnt to distinguish potential threats, and the two pistols hanging from each side of your belt were an invitation for trouble.

The best deterrent though was still your face.

Recently slammed on a freshly-printed bounty poster, your features were an allure only for the few idiots who didn't recognise you as the sniper of the Kid Pirates.

You stopped at a crossroad and glanced at the buildings and the garbage piled at the corner of the street.

«Damn, am I lost again?»

Yeah, good sniping skills, but terrible sense of direction.

«Y/n!»

You frowned as someone scream-whispered your name.

«This way!»

A small, thin arm stuck from behind a couple of barrels and gestured at you.

A kid?

«Listen, I don't have food nor money with me.» you grumbled, without moving from your spot «You and your little gang try to pick my pockets, I'm gonna throw you in the sea.»

The only kids running around that island were either abandoned orphans or the children of prostitutes. Either way, they could be just as dangerous as the adults, so being lured in a dark corner by them was not on your list.

«No, you damn woman! Come!»

«Damn woman?»

«Fuck's sake, kitty, come here!»

Kitty? Uh-oh.

You clicked your tongue as you finally approached the dark corner at the entrance of the alley.

«Please, tell me it's not what I think.»

It was.

Hidden between a few barrels were two children.

A scrawny blonde with a bush of messy hair covering half of his face, and a redheaded angry toddler whose amber eyes seemed ready to burn the island to ashes.

Your upper lip twitched in a displeased expression.

«Oh, crap.»

Kid's flaring irises darted up to you, his bare brows furrowing in a grimace of rage. He uncovered his teeth in a hiss, the bright lipstick smudged all around his immature mouth.

The child was wrapped in his red fur, which made several layers around his small body, probably restricting his movements. His shock of red hair was left untamed by the goggles, now hanging from his neck, and continuously fell over his eyes. He couldn't be older than three years.

Which, if the difference was maintained, made Killer... six? Seven?

Your gaze travelled to the raggedy blonde. He was wearing an oversized T-shirt and shorts you'd never seen before, maybe snatched from some stand in a hurry. They hung loosely from his thin body. That, paired up with the huge scythes and the striped helmet he had secured on his back with a bandanna, made a weird, concerning little image. He also had signs of blue lipstick around his lips, although he apparently tried to rub it off, because they faintly smeared his left cheek. One of his hands was keeping a tight grip of Kid's fur, and he was slightly painting.

You crouched down in front of him.

«Let me guess... Jewelry Bonney?»

You knew her crew was on the island, just on the other side.

It wasn't so infrequent to cross paths with other big shots in that wild region of the New World, and that often resulted in harsh confrontations. However, there were a few places where the unspoken rule was to leave each other alone, although it was more of a guideline than a rule. Shit could always happen.

Kid growled lowly and Killer nodded.

«She caught us by surprise. It's on us. We barely managed to escape.»

«FUK ESCAPE!» small Kid yelled all of a sudden, startling you both.

Killer shook him by the coat.

«Shh, idiot!»

«SHUT UP! I KILL YU!»

Oh boy.

However, a dark shadow fell on your face when you noticed a red, swollen mark on Killer's forearm.

«What happened to you? Did that bitch hurt you?!» you blurted, grabbing his wrist and bringing the wound closer to your eyes.

He winced and pulled his arm back, but not before you could see the teeth marks on his skin.

«No, I'm fine.»

«Wait, was it Kid?»

Killer didn't reply, his chin tilting down so dirty blond strands shielded more of his face. By his side, the redhead was still seething like a rabid dog.

«He's not... in control of his emotions. Well, less than usual anyway.» the older muttered after some time.

«Ugh.»

You spent a few seconds studying the two. Kid returned your gaze with blazing anger.

It felt surreal.

Your mind still hadn't realized the situation, like the actual Kid and Killer could walk in from around the corner any moment now, and those children were just some fantasy from the past.

But no, it was all true.

Those big, fierce men, two of the most dangerous pirates of the New World, were now reduced to a skinny child and a somewhat chubby toddler.

Bonney's powers were terrifying in a subtle, diabolical way.

«Do you even recognise me?» you slowly asked, locking your eyes with Kid's.

The child bared his fangs and hissed.

«Come on, man, really?» Killer lamented.

Your heart gave a painful thud in your chest as you saw the diffidence on Kid's round face, but you swallowed and forced yourself to stay calm.

«I'm Y/n. Like... your woman?»

He squinted, a new grimace curling his young features, except now the anger seemed to be mixed with effort.

You tilted your head to the side.

«...I'm birdie?»

Kid shut his eyes and his forehead creased, a frustrated grunt escaping his smeared lips.

«Bidy.» he finally spoke, amber gaze flicking on you. Some of the anger dissipated and you smiled in relief.

«Yes! Yes, it's me.»

He stared at you for a few moments before scoffing, averting his attention to the dusty ground.

«Thank goodness.» Killer sighed.

Kid gritted his teeth again.

«I 'eft my amm.»

You raised an eyebrow.

«What?»

«We had to leave his mechanic arm behind.» Killer explained «It was too heavy. We hid it though. My gauntlets too.»

He looked disheartened at the thought.

«Then we can retrieve those later.» you reasoned.

Kid's lips pressed together in a thin line.

«Okay, we need to clear this mess.» you eventually said with a shrug «I'll alert the others, they should locate Bonney and her men, and move the Victoria Punk. Plus I need to get you back to the ship.»

The toddler's head darted to you.

«WAT?! NO WAY! WE FIGHT!»

«You may have to sit this one out, Kiddo.» you grumbled, fumbling in your bag for the Den Den Mushi.

«NO! I'M CAPTAN!»

It was really, really hard not to chuckle and his unwilling, furious cuteness, so you turned abruptly to make the call.

«Oi, Wire? It's Y/n.»

«Hey. What happened?»

«Hum, we have a... situation.»

A sigh echoed on the other side of the device.

«What did you do?»

«Believe it or not, this time it's not me.»

You quickly filled him in, which elicited more heavy sighs and a resigned voice.

«Fine, I'll find Jewerly Bonney. Booka will move the ship, meet him at the South port.»

«Thanks, Wire. And hey, don't disturb Heat unless it's super necessary, okay? He gets to see his woman once in a blue moon already.»

«I know, I know.»

You cut the call and turned back to the kids.

«We'll walk through the red light district, okay? It's the safest route for us.»

«What about our stuff?» Killer asked.

«I'll send the Mohican to get it.» you reassured, reactivating the Den Den Mushi.

The small blonde seemed relieved, but Kid had started growling again, noting that nobody was paying attention to his orders.

After another couple of calls, the crew was scattered around town and out for Bonney Pirates blood. Well, everybody except Heat.

«Okay guys, let's move.» you announced, crouching back in front of the children. Your dubious eyes slid to Kid «Will you let me carry you?»

He snarled.

«No!»

«Listen Chubby, you have to work with me here.»

Even Killer bristled at that.

«You know you're not helping, right?» he grumbled, hand quickly hooking around Kid's fur again «Be careful, he still has his Devil Fruit.»

«Yeah, but you're not going to hurt me, are you?» you spelt out, looking at the redhead in the eyes.

He was close to raging.

«We'll see!»

«Okay, Kid, look,» you smirked «you're always carrying me around and treat me like I'm just a small woman and stuff.»

«You are a small woman!»

«Well, you're a small Kid now.» you retorted, but your voice turned softer «This is my chance to return the favour. Let me be your nakama.»

Kid pouted, his eyes still harbouring a spark of rage in them, but he was clearly getting uncomfortable beneath your and Killer's stare.

«Fine.» he grumbled «But I wanna fight Bonney!»

You leaned your knee down and extended an arm.

«I know. But, just this once, let me fight her for you,» you smiled «Captain.»

The child puckered his lips in a grimace, but his pale cheeks flushed at the epithet, and he finally walked over, although his eyes were fixed on the ground and he was grumbling under his breath.

«Wow, nice touch.» Killer mouthed behind him.

You winked at the blonde from above Kid's head, your hands freeing the little one from the binds of his fur.

However, your heart sank as soon as you caught sight of his small body.

You almost forgot he was missing an arm.

He was wearing an oversized black shirt that pretty much covered his body completely, but it was still quite noticeable.

Since you met him, you had never thought of it as a handicap, because his strength and powers widely made up for it.

But now he was a three-year old toddler.

«What?!» he barked, sensing your expression and jerking his head up to you.

You dissimulated your gasp with a cough.

«Nothing. Come on.»

Your arms gently wrapped around him, still keeping him enveloped in the soft fur, and you lifted him up. Your heart missed another beat when you realized just how light he was.

Kid never looked at you, fidgeting around at first, but when you leaned him against your chest he seemed to calm down a little. His amber eyes flicked on yours and quickly away, and he slowly rested his arm on your shoulder.

«Okay now, let's make one thing clear: you bite me, I throw you.»

He scoffed.

«Then dott piss me off.»

«Fair enough.»

You held him with one arm and extended the other to Killer, which earned him a lethal glare from Kid.

Killer puffed his cheeks slightly before turning his hidden gaze away.

«I can walk by myself!»

Your eyebrow quirked.

«Actually, I was offering to carry your Punishers.»

«Oh.»

A soft redness crept up his neck and he shook his head.

«I can do it.»

«As you wish.»

You walked out of the alley, the sun hitting you again with impudence and the kid following behind.

«Huh, Y/n?»

«Yes?»

«The red light district is the other way.»

Kid was very tense at the beginning, but it didn't take much for him to relax in your arms and even lean his head against your collarbone. Some of his unruly red locks were tickling your chin and you smiled. He was still growling from time to time, and his hand was often pushing the hair away from his face with brusque, angry movements.

«Hey sexy, stop for a second!»

You sighed heavily.

Damn.

A couple of drunks staggered in your direction, ugly grins and hungry expressions running up and down your figure.

«Looking for a papa for those kids, beauty?»

That got Kid's attention.

He raised his head and turned to the two guys, his eyes sharpening.

«Aw, look at the little one, how he's glaring at me!» one of the two uttered in awe, his dirty finger pointing at the toddler's face.

You stopped and rolled your eyes.

«So you guys got mommy issues to hit on me? Or just a death wish?»

«Huuuuh, big words for a single mother.»

Killer stepped closer to your side.

«You're gonna kill them or what?» he growled.

Your mouth twitched.

«I was kinda hoping to get by with no fuss.»

«Come on baby, ditch them, you can have my kids!» one of the men laughed, finally stepping too close and stretching his arm towards you.

You sighed and lowered your free hand to the gun but, before you could grab it, what looked like a nail darted into the rascal's eye, which basically exploded.

It took a second for him to realize, then the agonising pain hit him and he started screaming, his hand frantically clutching to his bleeding socket.

You blinked.

«Holy shit.»

«RON! WHAT HAPP— UARGH!»

The second man fell of his knees when another nail plunged into his throat, inches from the jugular.

Kid gritted his teeth in frustration, his small hand extended to guide the spike to the main blood vessel.

«Fukk!»

His clumsy control also caused the magnetic force to tug at Killer's scythes, and the poor child stumbled ahead.

«Wah, Kid!»

The weight of the blades was too much and made him lose his balance, sending him face first into the dust.

«YOU STUPID WOODHEAD!» he yelled above the men's screams, punching the ground with his small fists.

«What a mess.» you groaned, taking a hold of the gun and ending the scoundrels' misery with two quick blows.

The chaos ceased, but many curious bystanders started to peer around.

«I had them!» Kid protested.

You ignored him and crouched down.

«You okay, blondie?»

Killer spat a clot of dust and lifted himself up on his four.

«Yeah, yeah.»

But you saw his thin limbs trembling under the weight of the scythes.

«Alright, give me those.»

«I said I can carry them!»

«ENUFF!» Kid shouted, pointing his finger at him «I'm carry'd, you giv 'er dose!»

«It was your fault, you woodhead!»

«No, you small, tini Kira!»

Oh god.

«Still bigger than you!» Killer blurted, jumping to his feet and gritting his teeth for the effort.

«I'm your captan! And I say you giv 'her dose!»

Killer growled and you caught a glimpse of icy blue eyes beneath all those hair. They glared at each other for a few seconds, but eventually the blonde gave in.

«Fine.»

He let the band slip down his shoulder and handed you the blades. He kept the helmet.

«Thank you. Also, guys, the trash talk was embarrassing.»

The moment you took the scythes, you realized how heavy they actually were. More than Kid for sure. It must have been a real effort for Killer to carry them around all that time, even more while dragging rabid Kid along.

After a while Killer grew irritated of your continuous misdirection and resorted to walking in front of you so you could reach the red light district.

«How did Bonney manage to sneak up on you anyway?» you asked, entering the calmer streets.

«We were at the black market,» Killer muttered, skipping beside you «Kid was all engrossed looking at some weapons and stuff.»

Well, that made sense. Kid could get utterly adsorbed in weaponry, and his Obervation Haki was only strong when he actively switched it on. Killer, though, had a pretty good passive Observation.

«What were you doing instead?»

The blonde's lips crooked to the side for a moment.

«I was... also looking at some weapons.»

«Ha! Busshitt!» Kid blurted from your arms, his evil grin trailing down to Killer.

«Kid, you shush!» the child barked, glaring at him from behind his hair.

«Why, what were you doing?» you asked, your curiosity piqued.

«Oh, he vas lookin at home stuff a'ight.» the redhead maliciously said.

«Kid, I swear to god...!»

«Tell meeee! Come on, how bad can it be?» you insisted.

«None of your business.» Killer grumbled.

«Aw, why!»

«Yeah, why catt you say?» Kid blurted, now a little irritated «She dott care 'bout your litte kiks!»

«KID!»

Kiks? Wait... kinks!

...okay, that IS a little too much information.

«Nah, it's alright.» you brushed it off «I don't need to know.»

Although I AM kinda curious... I wonder if Bonney saw.

Killer was tense now, his fingers continuously pressing his hair against his face and gaze glued to his feet.

You noticed it was a tic of his, now that the helmet was too large for him to wear, he always tried to have his face as covered as possible. Good for him he had a lot of hair.

The red light district wasn't necessarily less crowded, but there most of the men were already enthralled by a woman, and if they weren't, there were a lot of inviting ladies at each doorstep, all more naked than you were. So they didn't pay much attention to an armed pirate walking around with two kids.

Well, not the men at least. You miscalculated the women's attention.

«Aww, are those your children?!» a mature lady chimed, trotting by your side.

You kept your eyes on the road.

«My little brothers. I'm not old enough to have a seven-year old.»

«Yeah, you wish.» Killer scoffed softly.

You flicked his nape and he groaned, his normally calm features suddenly catching fire as you saw his fangs too.

«Do that again, and I'll cut your fingers off.» he hissed.

«Oh, he's feisty!» the woman gasped, her abundant bosom giggling accordingly «And he's seven?? I was giving him five, six years max. Does he eat properly?»

Even smol Kid snickered at that, while an embarrassed blush tinged Killer's tanned face.

«He'll grow.» you shrugged, speeding up your pace in an attempt to lose her.

«My god, what a nice little red head this one has!» she shrilled, not daunted in the slightest and nimbly keeping up with your steps «Lorna! Joy! Come and see these little beauties!»

Oh joy.

More hookers flocked around you from the adjacent pleasure houses. So many, in fact, they surrounded you and you had to slow down.

«My!»

«Such cuties!»

«Why did you put lipstick on them?»

«Look at this chubby boy! Can I old him?»

«Only if you want to die.» you mumbled, subtly restraining Kid's arm when you saw little purple rays dancing across his fingers.

The young woman blinked at you, taken aback.

Kid was doing his best to glare and snap his jaws at the ladies, but it wasn't too effective.

Some of them had crouched down to Killer's height and they were fawning over him instead. You felt him backing down against your leg to avoid their intrusive caresses, his lips quivering in discomfort and his fingers nervously pulling his locs to hide his face as much as possible.

«Aww, don't be like this, cutiepie!» a brunette cooed, stretching her arms and attempting to brush his hair away from his eyes.

Your leg stomped aggressively between them before she could reach him and she retreated at once.

«Keep your hands to yourself, woman.» you coldly ordered.

She looked up at you with wide eyes.

«Oi, mind your words.»

It wasn't her who reprimanded you, so you turned to the one standing beside the general commotion.

She was one of the youngest, probably around your age, and she stood differently compared to the others. There was a certain pride and confidence in her nice features, and even her clothes weren't as revealing as the rest. Her most flashy trait, however, was the mass of bright red hair that went down to her butt.

The other hookers fell quieter as she spoke, clearing the space between the two of you. There was definitely an electrical crackle in the air as your eyes met.

«Hah?» you tilted your head to the side, studying her with conceit «You wanna tell me what to do again, pimple?»

Killer snorted, and you knew he was covering a chuckle.

Her face curled in offence, but she struggled to keep up a collected façade.

«The name is Maki.»

«Yeah, I'll never remember that.» you shrugged.

«Maybe you should. I'm in charge around here.» she slightly rolled her hip forward to exhibit the small gun hanging from her skirt «You're not the only shooter in town.»

«But I am, by far, the best one.»

She glared at you before a smirk tugged at her lips.

«Not the prettiest though.»

Your smile morphed in a grimace and she grinned.

Kid, who was growing bored of the situation, looked up at you.

«I kill her?»

«No, I got this.» you growled, gaze still fixed on the hooker.

The child huffed and dropped his head back to your chest.

«Good thing beauty is more useful in your line of work then.» you replied, resuming your path «Now move, extra.»

Her jaw hardened for a moment before she shook her long hair.

«You're awfully confident for a single mother walking around John's Dockyard.» a new smirk entering her features «Even if you were better, you forget you have two small children with y--»

The echo of a gunshot burst in the street, cutting her sentence short and causing the other women to disperse in a fit of screams.

That Maki-woman tumbled to the ground, her hands clinging on her broken shin and her eyes wide in horror as her whole body shook in distress.

«You're right,» you mused, slipping the pistol back in its holster «can't fuck around then, can I?»

Her once proud face was now lined with tears and feeble cries were leaving her throat. Her hand tentatively hovered around her own gun, but Killer was quick in snatching it from her belt and throwing it away.

«Relax, it's not a fatal wound.» you sighed, adjusting Kid in your arms «Consider it a warning. And an advice from a fellow sniper: less talking, more shooting.»

Killer rolled his eyes as you walked by the trembling woman.

«You're such a diva, Y/n.»

Kid, who was initially startled by the shooting, giggled happily the entire time.

When you finally reached the South port, the sun was sliding down the horizon, leaving the auburn sky behind.

Unfortunately, the small distance you still had to cover was now cluttered by the evening market.

A diverse crowd was swarming around the docks, people elbowing each other and yelling to pass through.

You clicked your tongue and offered your hand to Killer.

«I'm afraid you have to now, or I'm gonna lose you in the mess.»

He looked at your fingers.

«I am capable of keeping up, thanks.»

«Look, if Kid accepted to be carried, you can hold my hand for ten minutes.»

Killer grimaced, still hesitating.

«What's the big deal, blondie? You throw me around all the time.»

«Shut up.» he grumbled, quickly grabbing your hand and turning his face away at the same time.

His minute fingers were nervous and sweated in yours, but you took a firm hold of him and that seemed to help, a small sigh leaving his skinny figure.

Is this really the same Killer I know?

Your mind was having trouble reconciling that skittish boy with the steady, muscular man you knew and relied on all the time.

Kid, well, he was more or less how you pictured he would be. But Killer? He was apparently spending most of his energy trying to control his anxiety at having his face exposed. You could only imagine the discomfort of being confined into such a frail body after spending years to acquire all that strength.

You had to push down a surge of rage against Bonney as you tugged him along and dived into the crowd.

On the other hand, Kid managed to relax so much he was barely awake now. Or maybe the stress had finally caught up with his too-young age.

You glanced down at him from time to time, and you saw him struggling to keep his eyes open.

It was weirdly cute and you had to swallow back a giggle.

At some point though, you felt a low growl coming from the redhead and you peered down.

He had noticed Killer was holding your hand and his sharp eyes were throwing daggers at him, although the blond was stubbornly keeping his focus on the road.

Really, Kid?

Thankfully, something seemed to distract him soon enough.

His small nostrils flared and he turned his head to follow the sweet scent of a candy stand.

«Oh? You want something, Kiddo?»

The toddler frowned and scoffed in scorn.

«No!»

You ignored him and pushed your way toward the stand.

The attention of the big bearded man behind the stall immediately fell on you and the children.

«Good evening, Miss! What a surprise, you don't see many moms walking their kids around here.»

«They're my little brothers.» you grumbled, a hint of annoyance in your voice.

«Of course! You looked too young to have children already.»

«Precisely.»

«Why are you lying to the nice man, mom?» Killer interjected with his dead-inside voice.

Your mouth twitched and you squeezed his hand too tight, tearing a hiss from his lips.

The man laughed at the exchange.

«Smart kid, huh? So...» he leaned over across the stall, his smile getting wider «Is there a Mr. Dad?»

Up until that point, Kid's eyes were captivated by the colourful, shiny layers of candies lined up in front of him. But when the man leaned over, his sharp gaze jerked up and he snarled.

«I kill yu.»

«Aww, what a boy, so protective of his mommy!» the man chimed, genuinely delighted.

You had to grab Kid's arm before he could bent the bars of the stand and use them to strangle the vendor.

«Okaaay, hum, so what do you want?» you chimed, diverting his attention back to the candies.

Kid's nose twitched and he forcefully turned his head away.

«Nottinn!»

«I'll choose for you then.»

«No, wait!» he uttered, turning back to the stall «...ice crim.»

«Mh, okay. Which taste?»

He frowned, deep in thought as he scanned the different bowls back and forth.

«Whatts the red-red one? Blod?»

You chuckled.

«I don't think so, tulip.»

«It's black cherry.» the man informed with a smile.

Kid glared at him.

«Dat one. And anoder.»

«Which one?» you asked.

«Dunno. Yu choose.»

«Okay, one black cherry and stracciatella, please.»

«Coming right up.»

You turned to Killer.

«What about you?»

He looked up with a puzzled expression.

«Me?»

«Yes, of course you.»

The blonde shook his mass of hair.

«I don't need candies.»

«Aw, please!» you chuckled «What kind of mom would I be if I were to play favourites?»

He scoffed, but his eyes peered up at the exposed goods.

«The crepe.» he muttered after a few seconds «With chocolate.»

It didn't escape you how his hand didn't leave yours the whole time.

«You heard the blondie.» you grinned, looking back at the vendor.

«Right away!» he nodded, handing the ice cream to the toddler.

Kid awkwardly tried to hide his excitement, but the way he dived his face right into it gave him away.

This time, he didn't even notice when the man winked at you.

«Kid, you're making a mess!» you groaned «Look at that! There's more ice-cream on my chest than in your belly!»

The redhead ignored you and proceeded in smearing more stracciatella all over his round face, T-shirt and your neck, greedily lapping at the cold candy. A frown of disappointment curled his features for a moment when he realized it was finished, but it took just one second for him to notice the leftovers and start licking them directly from your bare shoulder.

«Gah! Hey! Wait— Kid! Stop it! It's gross!»

He continued, unfazed, and you were left with no hands to fend him off.

«I spoil you too much.»

When he was finished, he glared at you, his chubby cheeks a little puffed, sharp amber scowl, and face covered in ice cream (and a little lipstick too).

He was terribly cute.

You couldn't help but laugh at the sight, which had his scowl deepening.

You guided Killer's fingers to take a grip of your belt and used your free thumb to gently rub the ice cream away from Kid's mouth.

«Here,» you murmured with surprising softness as you cleaned his face.

He winced, and huffed, but didn't recoil at your touch, his pale skin blushing under your suddenly loving gaze.

«All better now.»

You took Killer's hand back in yours and guided him to the docks, finally emerging from the crowd.

The Victoria Punk slid idly in the shallow waters ahead, so majestic compared to the other modest ships. You spotted Booka waving at you from the deck.

«We made it.» you sighed, squeezing Killer's fingers, but he was still busy munching happily at his crepe to care, chocolate adorning the corners of his mouth as well.

You rolled your eyes in amusement, experiencing a rush of motherly love for the first time in your life.

Gosh, I love these two little bastards.

___________________________________________

#eustass kid #killer #one piece #one piece fanfiction #eustass kid x birdie #fluff #child!kid #child!killer

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ailendolin · 2 years

Text

Fluff Friday - 6 - Yonderland

Title: Puzzle Piece [AO3]

Characters: Ho-Tan/Vex, Edith and Jenny

Prompt: Ho-Tan having a nice day in Yonderland - Prompt by the lovely @a-small-bear

A/N: This is a the sequel to my story Friends in which Ho-Tan, Debbie, the Cake Bake Ladies, Mary, Jenny and Palla the Parvuli have a Girls' Night In. You will be able to understand this fic without reading it first but it does set the stage for the plot.

Prompts are open, so if you want me to write a story for you as well just send me an ask with the fandom, characters and your prompt. I’m writing for Ghosts, Yonderland, Horrible Histories and Bill at the moment.

Six Idiots Whump Wednesday / Fluff Friday masterlist is here.

————

Puzzle Piece

Readjusting her hair one last time, Ho-Tan turned away from the mirror and called out, “I’m about to head out now, Vex!”

There came a vaguely worrying crash from her bedroom, followed by an emphatic, “Ow,” before Vex’s head appeared through the gap of her bathroom door. He had lost his hat at some point and his hair was in such a disarray that Ho-Tan had to bite her lip to stop herself from smiling. How it had taken her years to fall in love with this wonderful silly man really was beyond her.

“What happened to you?” she asked, not quite able to keep the fondness out of her voice.

“Nothing,” Vex hurried to say. At her sceptical look, he added, “Nothing you need to concern yourself with. Anyway, here – I made something for you.”

The something in question turned out to be a small box wrapped in brown paper. Someone – Vex, Ho-Tan presumed – had taken meticulous care to glue small blue paper butterflies that matched the one adorning her favourite hairclip all over the top of it. Ho-Tan felt her heart swell with affection. “Can I open it?”

Vex smiled but shook his head. “Not yet. It’s for when you’ve tried on the dresses at – uh …”

“Edith’s,” Ho-Tan reminded him, amused. She couldn’t quite say she understood what this was all about but knowing Vex, it was something nice and very thoughtful. His presents always were. “Thank you, Vex.”

“You’re welcome,” Vex said and gently steered her out of the bathroom before Ho-Tan could check her hair one more time. “Now off with you! No time to lose! You’ve got a day full of fun waiting for you!”

Ho-Tan laughed and put the little box into her bag. “All right, all right, I’m going!”

Vex accompanied her all the way to the door as he always did whenever she went somewhere on her own, be it to take the Youngers on a trip or to visit her parents. Knowing he would also be waiting there for her along with the others when she returned to welcome her home with open arms made leaving, even just for a few hours, a little easier.

“See you later?” she asked.

Vex pulled her into a quick hug.

“Of course. And remember,” he said, pulling back so he could look her in the eyes. “Have fun, Ho-Tan. That’s all that matters.”

She smiled up at him. “I will.”

With that, she opened the door and stepped out onto the busy streets of Yonderland. She gave Vex one last wave before she allowed her feet to carry her down familiar, well-worn cobblestones to Mary and Jenny’s trinket shop where she was supposed to meet Edith. Ho-Tan hoped to have some time to look around before that – maybe find something nice for Vex and the Youngers there. Vex would want her to buy something for herself, of course, but she’d always found more joy in making other people happy. Perhaps it was a remnant of her childhood, an old habit she just couldn’t shake, but Ho-Tan didn’t mind. The glow of happiness on the Youngers’ faces when they opened their presents was so much better than even the prettiest quill or notebook she might find for herself.

So when she entered the shop, she immediately looked around and kept her eye out for things she knew the Youngers would like. Alvin collected compasses – he wanted to become a ship’s captain and sail the Seven-and-a-Half Seas one day. So far, Ho-Tan hadn’t been able to make herself go on a ship with him but one day she hoped to at least take him to the sea he loved so much. Irk had different ambitions. He wanted to become what Ho-Tan knew as a Plantspeaker and Debbie called a botanist so she always tried to find books on plants from far off lands and realms for him. Young Barry liked music so the latest records of his favourite bands were always well received. Daisy enjoyed soft, comfortable things so Ho-Tan hoped to find a new hairband for him, perhaps one made of silk, and as for Sepal – she already had her eye on a particular set of quills for him. He took after her the most out of all the Youngers and she had no doubt he would cherish new tools for practising his writing and drawing skills.

Luckily for her, Mary and Jenny’s trinket shop had all those things and more.

“Ho-Tan!” Jenny greeted her with a smile as she came down the aisle. “It’s so lovely to see you!”

“Hello, Jenny,” Ho-Tan said and allowed herself be pulled into a hug. She didn’t think she would ever get used to this casual form of affection from her. “Are you on your own today?”

Jenny made a complicated gesture with her hand that wasn’t quite a yes or a no. “Mary’s running an errand. Prof Hirsch’s orders always require our personal attention.” She rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “What can I help you with today?”

Ho-Tan told her about her meeting with Edith and that she wanted to buy something nice for the Youngers before that. Not even fifteen minutes later, her bag was full of little gifts. On top of all the things she had been looking for she also got a little apple blossom made of ceramic for Vex – a reminder of their first meeting in her parents’ apple orchard – and a pair of earrings for Edith she really hoped she would like. Jenny was kind enough to wrap it all up for her and was just in the process of putting a bow on the last gift – an ancient compass from the legendary Indefatigable Ho-Tan knew Alvin would be talking about for days, if not weeks – when the shop’s doorbell rang, heralding Edith’s arrival. A smile spread out over her face the moment she spotted Ho-Tan at the counter and just like Jenny, the first thing she did was pull her into a hug.

“Getting some shopping done before the big afternoon, are we?” Edith smiled when she pulled back.

“Oh, what have the two of you planned?” Jenny asked curiously as she handed Ho-Tan the wrapped up compass.

Edith glanced at Ho-Tan to see if she was all right with Jenny knowing – something Ho-Tan appreciated beyond words – before she said, “Ho-Tan will be trying on her first dress today!”

Jenny’s eyes widened. “You are? Oh, that’s wonderful! I’m so happy for you, Ho-Tan!”

“Thank you,” Ho-Tan said, a little shyly.

“We’ll also see which style she prefers so I can make her one of her home,” Edith added excitedly.

Jenny’s eyes grew thoughtful for a moment. “You know what? I think I have just the thing for you. Your favourite colour is blue, right?”

When Ho-Tan nodded, Jenny told them to wait and dashed off to the storage area. A few minutes later, she came back with a fabric draped over one of her arms.

“Oh,” Ho-Tan said softly. “That’s beautiful.”

“Isn’t it?” Jenny smiled. She put the fabric on the counter so Ho-Tan and Edith could get a better look at it. It was dark blue and small golden feathers were embroidered all over it. “It’s like it’s made for you.”

Ho-Tan couldn’t deny that the same thought had crossed her mind as she allowed her fingers to graze over the fabric. It was soft and flowy, and she felt a tug in her heart as she imagined herself wearing a dress made from it in front of the Elders and Debbie.

Jenny, seeing the dreamy look on her face, gently pushed the fabric towards her. “Take it.”

“What?” Ho-Tan spluttered. “No, Jenny, I can’t – I haven’t even tried on any dresses yet. What if I end up not liking how I feel in them?”

“Then you can still make this into a shirt or a tunic,” Jenny insisted. “Please, Ho-Tan. I want you to have it.”

Hesitantly, Ho-Tan took the fabric. “Let me at least pay–“

“Nonsense,” Jenny said with a shake of her head. She reached out to give Ho-Tan’s hand a squeeze. “See it as a thank-you gift for always hosting our Girls’ Nights.” When Ho-Tan at last gave in and nodded, she withdrew her hand and turned to Edith. “Now, what can I do for you, dear?”

After Edith had selected a few pieces of fabric for herself – “Sue and Lynn’s birthdays are coming up and I want to surprise them with new skirts.” – they both bid Jenny goodbye and slowly made their way through the busy streets to Sue’s house. Ho-Tan had never been to it before, not even in the general area where it stood, but when the streets gave way to quieter roads lined with trees, she could see why Edith, Lynn and Sue loved it there so much.

The house itself was a cosy little thing. Wildflowers bloomed in the front yard while vines crept up ancient stone walls all the way up to the first floor with its pink-curtained windows. On the door, a flower wreath hung, made with obvious care and attention to detail, and next to the doorbell, a sunflower stood in full bloom.

It looked like a real home, Ho-Tan thought with a pang in her chest. As a child, she’d always dreamt of living in a house like this – one that wasn’t run down and falling apart at the seams but welcomed one with charming oddness and controlled chaos. She’d imagined Vex and her living together in such a house more often than she could count, and while she loved living with the other Elders, she couldn’t help but feel a little sad that this particular dream of hers would now never come true.

Today was not for sadness, though, so she pushed those thoughts away and turned to Edith with a smile. “You have a lovely home.”

“Thank you,” Edith said, looking pleased. “The garden’s mostly my work. Lynn is usually in charge of repairs – she’s really great with a hammer – while Sue makes sure everything is tidy and clean.”

When they stepped inside, Ho-Tan saw proof of just how serious Sue took those duties. As far as she could tell, there was not a single speck of dust anywhere to be seen.

Edith laughed when she saw her stunned expression. “She always goes on a cleaning spree when we have guests over.”

“With military precision, I presume?” Ho-Tan said, still amazed by how polished everything looked.

“You have no idea,” Edith chuckled.

“Where are she and Lynn anyway?” Ho-Tan inquired. “I thought they would be here today.”

Edith shook her head. “I shooed them out so we’d have some quiet. The last thing you need is the two of them arguing about the dresses you try on.”

“Do they do that often? Argue?” Ho-Tan couldn’t help but ask. There was often squabbling among the Elders but rarely outright arguing – something she was very glad about.

Edith waved her concern away.

“We argue about the silliest things all the time, dear. It’s just who we are – our way to show love, I suppose. It’s rarely ever serious.” Ho-Tan smiled in relief and Edith gestured up the stairs. “Ready to start? I’ve already laid out a few dresses on the bed I think will look spectacular on you.”

Ho-Tan’s heart leapt into her throat. She didn’t allow herself to hesitate or have second-thoughts, though. Not now. “Yes, I think I am.”

Edith grinned at her. “Good. Then let’s get this party started!”

Two hours later, Ho-Tan was exhausted to her very bones but also positively glowing with happiness. The last time she’d felt like this – like she’d found a missing piece to the puzzle that was her – was when Debbie had taken her to that shop in her world and given her the eyelashes she had dreamt about for so long. Trying on the dresses had felt right in the same way; a way few things ever had in her life – like taking Vex’s hand in hers for the first time, or holding the Youngers in her arms after they’d been finally delivered.

Ho-Tan knew she would never forget this moment.

“Would you like another piece?” Edith asked, gesturing at the chocolate cake and pulling her out of her thoughts.

Ho-Tan couldn’t deny that she was tempted – the cake was delicious, after all – but in the end she shook her head. “I really shouldn’t. Otherwise all those measurements you’ve taken will have been for nothing.”

Edith laughed and cut her another piece – a small one – and placed it on her plate. “Trust me, you’ll be fine.”

After finishing that piece as well, Ho-Tan at last put down her fork and searched in her bag for the earrings she’d gotten earlier at the shop. Her fingers were trembling only slightly when she pushed the small wrapped box across the table to Edith.

“It’s not much but I wanted to thank you for today,” she said quietly. “What you did for me – it means so much, Edith. So much.”

Edith’s face softened. “It’s really no trouble, Ho-Tan. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I don’t really have many friends apart from Lynn and Sue so today was rather special for me too.”

They shared a small, understanding smile before Edith carefully unwrapped the little box. When she opened it and saw the earrings, her eyes widened in wonder. “How did you know I’ve been thinking of buying them? Did Jenny tell you?”

Ho-Tan laughed in relief and shook her head. “No! I saw them in the shop earlier and they made me think of you so I got them on the off-chance that you would like them.”

She watched Edith get up so she could take out the earrings she was wearing and put in the new ones. There was a huge smile on her face when she looked at herself in the mirror and turned her head this way and that to watch the small golden frogs move.

“Sue is absolutely going to hate them,” she laughed in delight and turned around to pull Ho-Tan into a hug. “I love them so much. Thank you, Ho-Tan.”

Ho-Tan closed her eyes and tightened her arms around Edith’s back. “No, thank you, Edith.”

When she got back home that night, the Elders were there to greet her at the door, all of them eager to hear how her day had been, so Ho-Tan told them about the gifts she’d bought for the Youngers, all the dresses she’d tried on and the cake Edith had made for her.

“Any chance you brought some of that delicious cake home with you?” Choop asked hopefully. Ho-Tan laughed and pulled out a container full of leftover cake. Choop’s eyes went almost comically wide. “Tell Edith the next time you see her I love her.”

“I don’t think Lynn and Sue would be too happy about that,” Ho-Tan chuckled.

She didn’t tell them about the fabric Jenny had gifted her or the particular design she had eventually settled on for her first dress with Edith’s help, wanting both things to be a surprise.

As Choop and the others hurried off to the kitchen with the cake, Ho-Tan grabbed Vex’s sleeve to hold him back.

“I opened your present,” she said quietly and held up her arm so he could see the thin golden bracelet on her wrist. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

Vex let his fingers trail over the small golden feather in the middle of the chain. “I wanted you to have something nice that made you happy, no matter how today turned out for you.”

“It did,” Ho-Tan smiled, feeling her heart swell with love. “It does.”

“Good,” Vex said softly. Without letting go of her hand, he looked up at her. “I knew you wouldn’t get yourself anything at the shop.”

Knowing she was caught, Ho-Tan huffed out a laugh. “I’ve bought a little something for you, though.”

She handed him the ceramic apple blossom with a shy smile and felt her heart beat just a little faster when she saw his eyes soften with memories from long ago. “Do you like it?”

“I do,” Vex said quietly. He pulled her into his side and pressed his lips against her temple in a sweet kiss. “Of course I do. Thank you, Alfie.”

Ho-Tan smiled and leaned up for a proper kiss.

#scribe elder ho tan #wise elder vex #vextan #cake lady edith #mary and jenny #yonderland #my fic #fluff friday #wwff challenge

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