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clonesupport · 1 year

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honest confessions - the thief and the liar

it’s dawned on me that not a lot of a lot of people know about max and ronnie’s shared soft moments or just actually how melancholy their relationship is. maybe that’s another lore thing that i made and never talked about but assumed i did lol like their playlist is like 50% self deprecating love songs and ronnie’s playlist is even more depressing TwT

if you’re curious about ronnie’s past that i mention and you have no idea what i’m talking about here’s a link to a post i made about it. it’s old and i’ve changed probably quite a few things but it gives you a general idea of how tf she got herself in the timeline and setting of tow

i havent exactly thought of where in the time line the big heart to heart happens but i know it happens when they’re well into their relationship. post ronnie being angry at max about chaney that’s one thing. they often talk a lot, or mostly ronnie is good at talking about her feelings when the two of them are alone. she always ends up opening past wounds and sobbing about some suppressed emotions she’d forgotten about since her life got flipped inside out. she hasn’t exactly had time to let herself settle with everything. and max listens, offers her his condolences though mostly just lets her speak. he can tell she’s someone who needs to have her guts spilled when it comes to personal issues or else letting them fester and bottle up will only make her feel an unbearable weight of distress and anger. and he’d be right to think so.

this specific talk happens when the two of them are alone in ronnie’s captain quarters. they’ve shared a drink perhaps, it’s later in the evening and they’re lost in topics chatting about anything and everything that flowed. eventually max asks ronnie about her past. all he knew was she’d come from a couple centuries before her 70 years frozen on the hope. he knew they weren’t the prettiest memories but the idea slipped from his lips before he could catch himself from prying. ronnie didn’t mind, she thought she could take it as she proceeded to answer what life was like in the 21st century. she babbles fondly of the good old days, though one thing leads to another she finds herself at the foot of the inevitable topic of her late fiancé.

she keeps going, she wanted him to know about her past, about who she was. why she was so afraid to commit herself to max in the first place when they first brought up the topic of dating. she’d always had trust and commitment issues but everything fortified when she went through what she’d been through. losing her fiancé before her eyes the way she did set her heart cold.

she tells him about the man she loved, the man she thought she’d spend the rest of her life with. the more the memories came back the more they hurt. tears found themselves involuntarily falling past her lashes and streaking down her cheeks in silence as she told her solemn history. max listened and watch with the most devastatingly gutted sensation in his stomach. he hadn’t known she’d been through so much. he definitely didn’t know she had a fiancé let alone what happened to him. knowing the ronnie he knew now, he would’ve never guessed she’d have ever been the type to have a spouse to be.

with every emotional word that spilled from her lips his heart sank more and more. listening to the details of her memories, to the rasp in her voice and the pauses in her breath as she tried to keep herself from breaking down. had he known the story would be so traumatic he would have never even considered questioning her about her past to begin with.

“i loved him,” her voice quivered as her eyes falling from his, gazing off to the side as tears welling and falling freely. her face contorted attempting to control the many sorrowful emotions within her, “i was gonna marry him.” her eyes looked back to his, his heart breaking at the sight as her control cracked letting out a sob before she breathed in a shaky breath. “it happened so fast… i couldn’t even tell him i loved him before….” her voice trailed off as she closed her eyes, eyes darting around beneath her lids as if playing back the memory in her head. “they killed him like he was nothing and took me like a prize.”

they’ve had many moments like this, but none this impactful to the both of them but especially to max. after this talk he saw her in a whole new light. everything changed from the way he viewed her brashness, to the way he perceived her snark. he now knew where it all came from. the story behind her personality, the trust issues, the intense hatred for his betrayal. he thought she reacted so strongly to him using her to get to chaney as some childish response of putting too much blind faith into a stranger but oh how wrong he was.

she hated him to using her because she felt like once again she’d lost a partner. she lost the trust and she needed that trust like a lifeline. without him by her side she wouldn’t be able to tackle life with her head screwed on right. she’d lose track of everything, of herself. she felt for his betrayal so strongly because if he really did use her and their relationship so selfishly then that meant she once again had no one. no one to guide her through the mess in her mind, the hurricane of emotions she’d suppressed with no one to guide her to shore. she couldn’t stand the thought of being alone again, she’d lost too much.

he saw the reasoning behind her ways, her choices, even the way she spoke. her words held a whole knew meaning with this newly unlocked understanding. but most importantly her habits towards him. the reason she held him so close in their tender and quiet moments. the reason why she told him so sincerely each time that she loved him, her eyes boring into his with an ocean of emotions swimming within them. the reason why she always seemed so sad when she did so, saying those three words with every ounce of bittersweet melancholy she held, brows furrowed and hands gripping him tight. why she’d always stand close to him, always touch him in some way, how each time she had the chance she’d steal a kiss from him. it was because she was afraid that at any moment she’d lose him. that any gaze, any kiss, any words of endearment could be her last. and each time she cherished it like it was the most valuable bounty in the world. she wouldn’t let this one slip away.

#ship: the thief and the liar #my oc: ronnie kana #vicar max #anywayyyyy #ronnie and max are actually a really sad ship lol #50% sex #50% sad #max is ronnie’s number 1 comforter #she’s only vulnerable to one☝️man #fun fact: ronnie joined the military when she got thrown to like year 2285 #before she got frozen on the hope #i know that’s a part of her story that’s not in her history post

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percysheliey · 1 year

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oh i’m rewatching iwtv and ….. connecting everything …. the theme of memories … louis being an unreliable narrator …. daniel KNOWING … the odyssey of recollection

#cannot wait for lestat to be like he’s a liar he’s a thief i never said that !#i love louis #his most heartbreaking relationship being with grace 💔#she accepted him without a thought and he couldn’t face her #head in hands #rosie rambles

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keyboard-crat · 15 days

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So my high school best friend who has a poster on her wall saying Live Laugh Steal is being criminally investigated for stealing close to 10 000€ from her student organisation’s sponsor money 🫥

#what the fuck what the fuck what the fuckkkkkkkk #i’m so angry I put so kuch of myself into that friendship for years and she has turned out to be an actual patholpgical liar and a thief

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jaggedwolf · 3 months

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pll classpects

very sorry to do this but I plunged a foot back into the pll pit and then homestuck came walking through the door too, so.

spencer: Prince of Mind

hanna: Rogue of Breath

emily: Heir of Hope

aria: Witch of Light

paige: Knight of Space

mona: Seer of Rage

alison: Lord of Blood

#i understand this post appeals only to me but this is what tumblr is for #can you believe i considered both knight and time for spencer she could've been dave strider-core (she is not dave strider-core)#considered Doom for emily and Thief for Mona the latter to be the active stealing to hanna's passive stealing lmao #anw its classpects it mostly vibes anw #imagine all of them in the stupid little outfits #pll #pretty little liars #jaggedwolf hopes that posting this will at least delay a different indulgent pll fic idea that popped into her brain this week #remixing #jaggedwolf rambles #thankfully the whiteboard literally looming over my bed is keeping me focused on the current self-indulgent wip #mine

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ruegarding · 6 months

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one thing abt thalia and percy's dynamic that is often overlooked is that percy was punished for the same things thalia was rewarded for. there's a prophecy abt one of the big three kids? percy is treated like a liar and thief and ppl refuse to talk to him. thalia? everyone respects her (including gods!) and assumes she'll do a great job saving the world. thalia is accepted immediately at camp and threatens the place percy spent two years proving he deserves. percy wants to go on a quest to save his friend? he's an attention seeker and glory stealer. thalia? well, she's the obvious choice. thalia comes up w a plan to win capture the flag that's basically "leave everything to me" and percy comes up with a plan that's basically "if you see a good opportunity, go for it," but percy is viewed as the control freak.

what i'm saying is percy had every reason to resent thalia and he didn't. he chose not to. and thalia had every reason to look down on percy and didn't.

even when they were fighting, i never saw it as a power struggle. they were being pit against each other, and instead of doing what everyone expected them to (kronos was fully expecting thalia to kill percy), they chose to love and respect each other. because they're not their parents. they're just two kids who started cracking under the pressure but refused to break.

#i think the most telling moment of their dynamic is when thalia is seduced by the power kronos offers her #and rather than viewing her as a threat and fighting her #percy talks her down. bc he knows her. bc he respects her. bc he loves her.#and she chooses him(them) over kronos and the power #anyway i miss thalia so much she should've been in every story all the time #thalia grace #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo hoo toa #big three kids #percy #thalia #min talks pjo

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vlentyne · 2 years

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“ perhaps, i can persuade you... ” ( @hatakaka )

Eyebrow raises, head cants to the side as she uncrosses her arms, and back hits the wall the closer he leans into her personal space. For a moment, their eyes meet, and she sees the glint of something tremendously dangerous in the reflection of her own face within the pupils of his eye. There is no doubt that something sinister looms over this person, for the first time in a while, Faye is experiencing something akin to nervousness around a man.

“ i dunno if you’re hitting on me or trying to intimidate me. I hope it’s the latter, ‘cause otherwise you must really hadn’t had any in a long time, ” steady is her voice ( attempts of remaining calm and confident. Do not let him see you flinch ), “ i don’t need persuasion. I don’t need your help, and i don’t plan on sharing any information i have about the uchiha kid with you – you wanna find him? go look yourself. ”

A moment of silence, a minute to regain her strength and usual brazenness finds her leaning all the way to him instead, clawed hand grips onto mask - covered chin, a cynical smirk curves on cherry lips, “ for the record, stud? the only way you could persuade me is with a big, fat … wad of cash. ”

#hatakaka #verse : the liar ; the thief.#the way she's trying to score the bounty on sasuke and kakashi is like lol dont think so biTCH

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juanarc-thethird · 4 months

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Indiana Jaune.

The famous explorer Dr. Jaune Arc is in trouble. He was caught by a tribe of Amazon women. He was arrested by the tribe's champion, Eve Taurus, and dragged before the chief, Sienna Khan. Where he will be judged for his crime: Taking their sacred Idol.

Eve: I brought the thief, chief.

She pushes him in front of sienna.

Jaune: *Falls to the ground* Ugh!

Sienna (chief): Jaune Arc, you were caught in the act stealing our sacred Idol. How do you respond to this accusation?

Jaune: *Stands up* Innocent!

Eve: Liar!

Sienna: Eve, let him speak. Why do you claim to be innocent?

Jaune: That artifact does not belong to your tribe. It was stolen from the sacred temple in the volcano and now it will erupt at any moment unless we return the Idol to its respective place.

Eve: Chief, you can't possibly believe that! He is a-!

Sienna: Silence! *Sighs* Your words have some truth in them. After we acquired the artifact, the land where we live has become hostile to us.

Eve: But that doesn't change the fact that he stole from us, a tribe that welcomed him with open arms!

Sienna: My champion is right. Stealing, no matter the circumstances, remains a serious crime in my tribe.

Jaune: I understand, and I beg your forgiveness. Since what I did was not a selfish act, but an act to save this tribe and the creatures that live in this jungle.

Sienna: You are honorable, I can see that. But my tribe will demand compensation.

Jaune: I understand. I will accept any punishment, but we have to return that Idol now.

Sienna: Anything huh…. *Looks at him up and down* I think we can reach an agreement. *She smiles*

Eve: *Evil smile* Oooh ho ho, you're so...

-------------

Eve: *Heart eye* FUCK!!~💕

Eve is lying face down, while Jaune fucks her along with the help of Sienna. She is pushing his hips towards Eve, by dropping her weight on top of him. Leaving Jaune in the middle of an Amazon sanwich.

Jaune: Oh god~💕 How long do I have to do this?

Sienna: Until every woman in the tribe becomes pregnant. After all, the idol you took was of fertility.

Jaune: But I... But I-!... Oh FUCK!!!~💕

*SPLURT!!*

Eve: 💕Oh GOD!!💕 He is filling me all up!~💕

Sienna: Good boy, now on to the next one.

#jaune arc #jaune #rwby jaune arc #rwby jaune #sienna #rwby sienna khan #rwby sienna #Sienna khan #rwby eve taurus #eve taurus #rwby eve #rwby #rwby shitpost #rwby smut #rwby lemon

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idyllic-affections · 8 months

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achilles heel ii.

summary. love is a sin. the regrator is a sinner.

trigger & content warnings. threats of physical violence, nightmares.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. found family (moreso than the first post), fluff, slight angst. pantalone & young teen!reader, slight arlecchino & young teen!reader. 2.6k words. they/them pronouns used for [name]. this fic is divided into six drabble-like sections. this fic is the second part of achilles heel; please read the first post before reading this one.

author's thoughts. teehee pantalone....... he is never dad-ified enough i swear. he has so much dad potential. look at him. silly rich guy (<- he is a criminal and is NOT silly).

i. a slip of the tongue ♡

Their enrollment into the House of Hearth came with two specific conditions:

One, Arlecchino would not have ultimate authority over them. They didn't disrespect her regardless, but Pantalone was insistent that her authority should not exceed his over them. He was their caretaker, after all. They were a special case in the Knave's orphanage—an orphan but not quite an orphan.

Two, that they returned to his residence on weekends, which wasn't something they or Arlecchino has any qualms with. She didn't exactly get along with the Ninth, but oddly, she didn't argue either of his conditions.

(They felt immeasurably guilty, however, that they had a home to return to. That was a privilege unique to them. The orphans of the House of Hearth did not have such a luxury; hell, those children could not even dream of a home outside of the orphanage.)

This was one such weekend. Upon returning home, they let themselves into Pantalone's office—of course, not before ensuring he was not occupied with another Harbinger or other business partners of his. Had he been, they would have only entered once he was done.

"I'm back, Father."

...

Immediate terror stuck their chest. Admittedly, their reaction once they processed what had just come out of their mouth was a bit dramatic, but still! Had Arlecchino's children somehow rubbed off on them? All of her children tended to call her 'Father', but they only ever called her by her name...

The Regrator paused what he was doing, wordlessly setting his pen down.

"...Sorry, dear, could you repeat that? I didn't quite hear you."

"Um. I said I'm back."

"After that."

"..."

"[Name]."

"I didn't say anything after, I swear." They were completely flustered now, hand shyly fidgeting with the strands of hair securely held back by what had once been Arlecchino's hair clip while their gaze settled anywhere that wasn't on the Harbinger. "I didn't..."

"You are a terrible liar."

"I'm— I'm not."

He smiled at that, gingerly shedding his gloves and rings.

He thought it was a bit cruel of him to create any kind of distance between himself and the little thief he brought into his home, especially in what was such an important and vulnerable moment.

It was then that he beckoned them closer. They obliged, albeit hesitantly. His hands gently smoothed down some wild strands of their hair—presumably caused by whatever the Knave had put them through that day. His tenderness seemed to calm them down a little bit.

"Do you see me as a father figure, [Name]?"

They pouted. "I don't know. Maybe. It just came out. I didn't think about it. Sorry."

If Pantalone was any more morally correct, he might worry about who they were looking up to, but...

Their immorality was inevitable, really, so he tried not to concern himself with it too much. It was the one consequence associated with taking them in. It was one that simply couldn't be avoided.

Pantalone had come to terms with that fact some time ago.

"Don't apologize. I don't mind if that is the case."

"...Okay."

He held himself together with skillful grace that was only to be expected of someone like him, but the second they left his office, he slammed his head on his desk, resisting the compelling urge to just sob.

(...He was probably the reason they had become a tad dramatic.)

Oh.

That day, the Ninth learned two things:

One, [Name] had adopted a more formal method of speech, which was good. It would be useful in the future. His lower priority business partners, the general nobility of Snezhnaya and other nations... those people would all expect his child to take on a more refined demeanor. It was good that they already were.

Two, which was objectively more important in his mind (because really, he did not care for the opinions of people who had never struggled a single day in their lives), he had unexpectedly become an actual father. Not just a caretaker, but a father.

Oh, fuck.

ii. third time's a charm ♡

"Can I keep him?"

"Absolutely not."

"Please? Come on. He won't cause any trouble!"

Pantalone pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers, sighing deeply. How could he have possibly gotten himself into this situation a second time? Perhaps he really was spoiling them just a bit too much. "[Name]. You cannot continue bringing wild animals into our home."

They pouted, holding up the little feline in their arms. It may have been small and harmless at the moment, but a snow leopard such as the one they snatched up from the streets would surely grow impossibly bigger, provided enough time and proper nutrition. "Father..."

He shot them an annoyed look. They could only smile innocently.

"Don't 'Father' me, [Name]."

"I've taken good care of Winter thus far!" Said fox chirped upon hearing her name. "Look, see—she's perfectly healthy. I can handle another pet!"

"You named her Winter?"

They shrugged. "It's always winter in Snezhnaya, so..."

He couldn't help but chuckle fondly, teasing, "Clever."

"I doubt you would have came up with a better name, Father," they huffed playfully. "Anyways, come on! Look, how can you say no to a little face like this?"

Neither of the two said anything for a moment. [Name] held up the little squirming cat with one hand, supporting its hind legs with the other.

It was clear to Pantalone that they would not budge.

A deep sigh left his lips.

They knew they had won.

Once again, Pantalone welcomed another unexpected guest into his household.

He could unflinchingly deny Il Dottore further funding for his experiments. He could ruthlessly send out the agents employed under his command to collect the debts of those foolish enough to leave them unpaid without so much as a second thought.

Somehow, he could not deny his child another exotic animal.

Oh well. At least the feline would eventually grow into a suitable bodyguard for [Name], he supposed.

iii. ultimatum ♡

Whenever Pantalone had free time during the work week—which... wasn't very often—he had grown into a habit of visiting the House of Hearth.

His darling child was there. How could he be expected to stay away?

(The Knave grit her teeth, clenched her jaw, and ultimately bit her tongue when he kept showing his face in her territory again and again. As much as she didn't like the Ninth... she would have to tolerate it, she supposed. He was too preoccupied with [Name] to bother her the majority of the time, anyway.)

The children were all polite and respectful with him whenever he came around, often pointing him in the direction of their sibling-in-arms. They were typically lingering around the younger children, engaging with them and entertaining them in a way that a doting older sibling might, but for some reason...

They weren't there that day.

"One of the matrons wanted to talk to [Name], sir. I don't know why," one of the younger children his child typically surrounded themselves with had told him.

He was surprised to find that, rather than wanting to speak to [Name], one of Arlecchino's employees seemed to have forgotten just whose child it was she was speaking to.

"We are raising soldiers," a woman harshly spat, "not regular children. It would be in your best interests, Mx. [Name], to quit teaching them to be soft."

They blinked.

"...Um. They're five."

"Are you even listening?!"

"Listen," they began, shifting their weight from one foot to the other uncomfortably. "They're barely five, okay? They'll learn. They can't even wield a sword properly yet. Half of them can't read mid-level literature yet. For now, I think they deserve attention from someone they can trust who won't hurt them. I mean... if I were really doing something wrong, Arle surely would have told me—"

"You rich little brat."

That stung, admittedly. With nervous fingers, they plucked at the threads of their sleeve.

"By the Tsaritsa, if the Ninth himself weren't so enamored with you, I would have your head mounted on the wall for the disrespect you have shown not only us but our Lord."

She raised a hand, and they flinched back, and then—

Nothing came.

"Fa— Father... hi."

The Regrator's grip on her wrist was crushing, rage barely concealed behind a tight-lipped smile.

"Hello, dear." Pantalone's eyes were kind when they were on his child, but glazed over with an unsettling iciness upon facing the woman. He leaned down, head tilting slightly as he observed the tense matron who so boldly dared to raise a hand to his child. "Now, I'm certain this was a one-time incident, unless of course you would be interested in taking a... leave of absence to see the Doctor, hm?" His grip tightened slightly in a wordless threat, a promise of a fate more vile than death itself. "A permanent leave of absence, that is."

Tension weighed heavily in the air.

Of course, the matron relented. She would have been foolish to not when the fate promised to her would be undoubtedly worse than death.

"...No, of course not, sir. It won't happen again."

He released her trembling wrist, adjusting his rings nonchalantly.

"Good. Go on, then. Leave us."

"Yes, Lord Ninth."

She turned on her heel, bowing her head respectfully to both the Regrator and his child before rounding the corner of the hall. Just like that, she was gone.

Instantly, all his attention shifted to [Name].

"Are you alright?" he murmured softly, only for their ears to hear. He kneeled down to their level and gingerly tilted their chin upwards to check if Arlecchino's matron left any wounds behind.

"Yeah, I'm— I'm fine..."

He was quiet for a moment, thumb gently rubbing along their cheekbone and wiping away the beginnings of tears. The Knave would not like to see them in such a state. The Ninth didn't particularly care for her opinion, but he knew very well that his child did, to a certain degree.

"...Don't cry, dear. Do not allow yourself to be pushed around. You are worth infinitely more than any agent among our ranks. Do you understand?"

"Mm-hm. I'm just..." They gnawed on the corner of their lip. "I guess I'm used to it."

He was quiet for a moment.

"That will change," he concluded. "You will never be treated so poorly ever again."

iv. bonding ♡

"Were you never given the opportunity to bake?"

They hummed thoughtfully, lips pulled into a calm and content smile as they observed their father knead the bread dough they took part in making.

Indeed, a man as prestigious as him could just have one of his employees do this... but what kind of parent would he be if he refused to bond with his child alone? No genuine bonding would take place if he was not the one engaging with them.

...

Baking also happened to a special place in his heart as a child of poverty, so he didn't mind doing it.

"Not really. I couldn't afford to. It was too expensive," they mused, trailing off briefly. Pantalone was quiet—patient. He didn't interrupt them or urge them to speak. He simply waited for them to go on. "I didn't get paid well when I was taking thievery commissions. I was small and weak, so it was easy for those older people who commissioned my work to scam me out of what I was owed."

The Regrator made a mental note to investigate those people further.

For now, though, his focus was on them.

"I understand," he reassured. "Baking is indeed an expensive hobby. There was a time where even I could not afford it."

"I really wouldn't have believed you if you hadn't told me," they said, stealing and snacking on some of the fruits spread across the counter. The Harbinger chuckled fondly, pinching their cheek.

"Stop that. If you keep that up, we won't have anything to put in the bread. Now, for the next step..."

v. nightmare ♡

It was the middle of the night when they jolted awake, skin dampened with a cold sweat and fingers relentlessly shaking.

The House of Hearth's hardwood floor was cold against their bare feet, but it really didn't bother them. It wasn't anything they weren't used to, anything` they hadn't experienced in their past. It was with quiet and purposeful steps that they snuck out of the room they shared with a handful of the younger kids that bonded closely with them.

Their years of thievery still benefitted them, it seemed, as they effortlessly snuck out without awakening anyone else.

"What are you doing up at such an awful hour?"

They practically leapt out of their skin, heart hammering in their chest at Arlecchino's sudden appearance.

"I, uh—" they began, taking deep breaths in the hopes of calming themselves down. "Um, sorry. You frightened me."

"Oh? My apologies, then, [Name]."

Whether or not her apology was sincere was debatable. She seemed to derive very slight amusement from their fright, but gave them a firm pat on the head. It was comforting in its own way.

"...I had a nightmare," they reluctantly admitted, "so I can't really sleep. Sorry."

"It isn't uncommon for these things to happen," she replied. "Your apology is unwarranted. You aren't the first and I doubt you will be the last to be unable to sleep."

"Arle, um... I know I'm not supposed to leave again until tomorrow, but..."

Arlecchino's eyes were trained precisely on them, and perhaps she might have looked irritated, but in reality, she could not find it within her to be frustrated. They were strong and smart and excelled in the things that they needed to excel in. There was no reason for her to be frustrated with them for something so simple. It was normal for children to seek out their parent following a distressing experience.

"I will take you back to the Regrator's residence, then. Consider it a reward for your high performance this week."

"Ah, really? Thank you, Arle."

"Go get your things. Meet me outside."

vi. found family ♡

"You're home early, [Name]."

When they entered Pantalone's office (he lamented the fact that he was still working at such a late hour, but such was unfortunately his obligation as a Harbinger), he was pleasantly surprised, quietly setting down his pen and offering them his full attention.

"I know." They nodded. "Arle said I performed well this week, so she brought me home a day early. I guess she probably had something to do elsewhere anyway, since she offered."

"I see."

A silence settled for a moment.

The Ninth instantly knew something was wrong when their fingers reached up to their sleeve, absently picking and pulling at the threads. He'd noticed that habit of theirs back when he first put them in the public eye.

"If there is something troubling you, dear, you are more than welcome to tell me."

"It's stupid," they murmured, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. Maybe they should have just stayed back at the House of Hearth.

"If it's bothering you, it is most definitely not."

"I had a nightmare."

"Ah, I see. Is that why you've come home so late?"

"...Yes."

"Do you want to stay with me for the time being, then?" When they nodded, he smiled kindly, opening one arm for them so that the other could be free to finish what remained of his paperwork.

They were secured in his arms the second he made his wordless offer.

His fingers tenderly carded through their hair, mindful to avoid his rings catching uncomfortably on their locks.

Love is a sin.

In Snezhnaya, love is a sin.

For his child, Pantalone was a sinner.

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

#aphelion writes 🌸#favoniuslibrary #astronetwrk #genshin platonic #platonic genshin #platonic genshin impact #platonic genshin impact x reader #platonic genshin x reader #fatui harbingers x reader #pantalone x reader #arlecchino x reader #fatui x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader

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darlingdekarios · 10 months

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dance in the winter.

rating: explicit. 18+ only. length: 2,937 content: Sherlock Holmes x f!reader, porn with plot, smut [fingering - receiving, oral - receiving, unprotected p in v], kink(s) [praise, hair pulling], fluff

though he tried to restrain himself, it was useless – when he avoided you, circumstance always brought you crashing back into him. as he climbed the stairs to 221B Baker Street, he supposed this was one of those times as well.

Eight days, seven hours, and thirty-four minutes ago Sherlock Holmes had been persuaded by way of your fluttering eyelashes to take on one final case before Christmas, though against his better judgment he hardly needed convincing when it came to you. He’d met you months ago now through his sister and, despite himself, he’d found plenty of excuses to intersect his path with yours. The way you had burrowed into his mind was often infuriating, the way he had permeated your mind dizzying.

It was impossible to ignore the growing affection between the two of you – even Enola had remarked on it to you weeks ago and though you were a convincing liar, she was better at reading you. Sherlock’s behavior spoke for itself, Enola thought – the sheer fact he could be seen with you enough times to constitute a pattern meant he enjoyed your company, and for Sherlock that was enough of a compliment and revelation.

Though no one had pushed for an answer, everyone who knew both of you knew the energy that came with the both of you, and the assumption that you two had acted on those feelings would not be unfounded. Several times now, in fleeting and molten moments, Sherlock had kissed you breathless and reverent. Though he tried to restrain himself, it was useless – when he avoided you, circumstance always brought you crashing back into him. As he climbed the stairs to 221B Baker Street, he supposed this was one of those times as well.

“Eight days, seven hours, and thirty-eight minutes spent on your case,” he proclaimed as he closed his watch, tucking it away before fixing his gaze on you. “Only to follow clues to my own home, and to find you waiting for me.”

You waited for him with a smile on your face, sprawled against the worn fabric of his chaise in a dress you knew distracted him, the depth of its color bringing out the best in yours. He closed the door behind himself, dropping his cane beside the door and removing his jacket as he regarded you with analytic eyes.

“I’m afraid I deduced the crime before you, Mister Holmes,” you taunted, eyes sparkling in the crackling firelight coming from the fireplace near you. He closed some of the distance toward you as you spoke, causing you to raise to be seated before him in politeness, though you wished to cherish the way he hungrily eyed you as you lay before him. “I have been waiting here for the thief to return.”

“I assume you’ve decided it’s me,” he assessed, clasping his hands behind his back to resist the urge to reach out and push a stray hair from your face.

“Yes, Sherlock, I’m afraid you are the thief, and you’ve stolen something very dear to me,” you mused, raising your hand to push the hair from your face instead, almost as if you were further taunting him. “I should hope you return it at once.”

“And what is it I’m accused of stealing?”

“My mind, dear detective,” you sighed, raising to your feet and standing close enough to him that he could make out the details of your face. “All of my sense. I demand you return it at once, I simply cannot pass another day in this state.”

A lazy smile passed his features, one that he gifted to you in privacy, entrusted you with in secret. You etched this one to memory just as the others.

“So, all this week while I have been uncovering clues and following trails,” he began, finally reaching forward to grasp one of your hands. Almost delicately he lifted it, pressing a kiss to your fingers before continuing. “They were all left by you.”

You nodded, fire engulfing your cheeks under his investigative eyes now burning into yours with something genuine and fierce.

“Hmm,” he mused, lowering your hand to rest against his chest as his own fingers traced along your jaw. “Who helped you?”

“I’m offended you think I would need help, Sherlock Holmes,” you quipped, noticing the twitch at the corners of his mouth in amusement. It crossed your mind he likely asked the question purely to antagonize you, though your pride insisted you assert your efforts. “It was me alone.”

“Of course it was,” he nodded, grasping your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Though if you wanted my attention so badly, you hardly needed a game.”

“But you love a good game, or so I’ve heard,” you remarked, eyes light and playful. He had to appreciate that you could hold this back-and-forth with him without losing your footing, the mental dance you’d been in for months now fulfilling a deep need in his mind. “I enjoyed dancing with you.”

His lips crashed to yours with bruising weight, the time since your last kiss finally settling into Sherlock and building the desire he felt for you. His hands found way to your lower back to hold you closer, covering himself in the warmth of you and swallowing the quiet sigh that passed your lips. The grasp he held on your dress revealed his satisfaction at having you so near again.

Eagerness would never spoil gentle intent. He carefully worked the laces of your gown free, pushing the heavy fabric to the floor when it had loosened adequately and immediately grasping your waist again. He released your mouth from his kiss to run his eyes over your body, his pink tongue swiping against his bottom lip in appreciation and to savor the taste of your lips.

“Lay down,” he instructed while motioning back to the chaise with one hand, releasing his hold on you to admire as you stepped back and listened with a meek nod. Eventually he’d tell you how amusing it was when you became bashful for him, but the comment could wait. Once you were comfortable again, he sank to his knees before you, reaching to pull the undergarments that covered you still with an appreciative hum before discarding them in the pile with your dress.

“Such a clever girl,” he complimented, leaning forward to press his lips to the side of your knee to encourage your legs apart. You listened without him needing to ask aloud, releasing a shaky breath as the cold air of the room passed over your heated core. “This is what you wanted, hmm?”

You could only nod as his fingers ran through your folds, teasing your soaked entrance lightly before running the digits back toward your clit, rubbing a well-intended circle around the already swollen nub. “You like when I praise you,” he remarked, like he was announcing his findings for notetaking. You supposed a man like him likely did keep mental notes. “Let’s find out what else you like.”

His head disappeared between your thighs then, his tongue replacing his fingers to eagerly taste what your arousal had to offer. A low sound rumbled in his chest in appreciation as his hands grasped your thighs, spreading your legs more so he could bury his face in your core, his tongue slipping into your cunt to massage your velvet walls. He was gifted with an unimaginable symphony of sounds from your lips as you fought to hold some composure and he fought to melt it away, connecting his thumb to your clit soon after.

He felt the flutter to your walls and swapped his movements, reaching to take your swollen nub into his lips with a firm suck as he slipped a finger into you, curling it to massage the sensitive patch behind your clit. Your hips began to move to meet his face and hand desperately as your walls clenched, white hot euphoria washing over you as your fingers flung to his hair, pulling the wind-blown mess of curled locks in overwhelmed passion.

Though you were in the throes of pleasure you heard the hefty groan that left his chest as he drank your orgasm from you, currently uncaring for tidiness and finding enjoyment in the mess you made of his lower face. When he was certain he’d carried you through it he removed himself from you, standing and displaying the obvious tent in his pants as he offered a hand to you. You took his hand without question, rising to meet him and lean against his wide torso for support. Finding your voice, however, was a task all in itself.

“Where are we going?”

“My bedroom,” he replied, slipping an arm around your waist to lead you down the hall to the named room. While you knew the room existed, you had always assumed it remained empty…you had certainly never seen him use it before.

“Since when do you use your bedroom?”

“Since Enola made me find a flat mate,” he replied, sending a glance your way as he opened the door and gestured for you to enter. He followed behind immediately, pulling you back against him to press a kiss beneath your ear. “It’s not important right now.”

He turned you gently to claim your lips again, reaching behind his back to close the bedroom door before working himself free of his own clothes. You released a content sigh against his lips, pressing your bare skin to his to soak in his warmth and enjoy the feeling of him against you. When all that remained was his undergarments, he was offering you a taste of yourself with his tongue in your mouth, kissing you in ways that could be written of.

To his amusement when he released you from his kiss a whimper slipped from your lips at the loss, and he satiated your disappointment with another gentle kiss before bumping his nose against yours.

“You should have asked if this is what you wanted,” he remarked, offering a light smile when your eyes met his. If you wanted a game to play, Sherlock was the master of such matters, a painful reminder that fueled his mind. “Practice for me.”

“W-what?”

“Practice asking,” he instructed, trailing his kisses to brush along your jaw and to your neck. Infuriatingly, and perhaps admirably, he remembered the exact spots he needed to make you gasp, the perfect pressure to leave you breathless. He asked too much and knew it to be true, though he still insisted. “Perfect it.”

“Sherlock, please,” you whined as he backed you toward his bed, helping you lower down carefully to the cold sheets. Thankfully the cold was chased away by his warmth as he joined you, crawling between your legs and kissing up your chest slowly. “Don’t torment me, I want you so badly. Please.”

“I should make you wait,” he sounded too pleased with himself, too entertained by the desperate hitch in your breath and subtle shake to your legs as you wrapped them around his waist, eager to bring him closer.

“Please…”

“Patience,” he reminded, sliding his hand down your body as he pressed an infuriatingly chaste kiss to your lips as he slipped two fingers into you. “Are you always this wet?”

“Often…when I’m near you,” you replied hurriedly, hips raising to meet his hand, desperate for anything he would offer you. He raised his head to drink in your expression, mentally noting the different hue to your cheeks and weight to your eyes. Seeing your body respond to him was science, learning the different ways to push you toward bliss a newfound task in his mind.

“Hmm,” he mused carefully, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Is this what you want?”

“Yes, Sherlock, please,” you whimpered as he curled his fingers again slowly, taking in your pleading expression as you continued. “No more games, please.”

He removed his fingers from you to grasp his throbbing cock, rubbing your slickness over himself before sliding the velvety head through your folds. With one last look for confirmation to your face met with a nod and whimper from you he slowly pressed into you inch by inch, holding you closer and claiming your lips again in a focused kiss. When he bottomed out and grasped your hips to hold you closer what were normally calculated kisses faltered slightly as your walls fluttered around him, the stretch to accommodate him making you feel almost too full but pulling a delicious moan from your chest.

When he moved it was as though he had been choreographing the movements in his mind nonstop for weeks…and perhaps he had with the way he seemed to massage every inch of you perfectly with each thrust. Your legs remained tight around his waist, holding him to you so he couldn’t withdraw further than you’d allow him – which he was more than happy to oblige. Focused on bringing you to the edge again the only noises that left Sherlock now were quiet groans in appreciation when you clenched around him, a low gasp falling from his lips when you pulled his hair again slightly.

It was then when the lava returned to your core, bubbling under his mercury eyes and leaving your lips as a cry of his name. Your walls clenched around him tightly as you reached another orgasm, eyes squeezing tight as you bit into your kiss swollen bottom lip. It was then he found the words for you again.

“You look extraordinary like this…in my bed,” he complimented, his thrusts beginning to falter. You squeezed him tighter with your legs to encourage him to stay, a request he was more than happy to accommodate with a sloppy few final thrusts before his hot seed emptied into you. As he rode out the remainder of his spend, he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, sliding one of his hands into yours and lacing your fingers together.

You wondered if he would always find ways to take you by surprise.

He was conscious not to linger, removing himself from you and pressing another kiss to your forehead before retreating to his living room, returning with your undergarments in hand. His hair was tousled from your desperation to grasp something and clung to the thin layer of sweat on his forehead, cheeks red. As you admired him you reached your arms toward him as he replaced your undergarments after running a clean cloth through your folds, discarding it to the floor to handle later.

He found his place beside you then, resting on his back and pulling you close to hold you for a moment, willing to relax now that you were cared for. His hands ran carefully along your stomach as he held you, pressing gentle kisses to the top of your head repeatedly to silently thank you for what had transpired. His gentle movements brought you to relaxation soon, raising your head to press a gentle kiss to his jaw.

“Merry Christmas, Sherlock,” you cooed, repeating the kiss and causing a brief shudder to ripple up his back.

“Mm,” came a low rumbled reply in his chest before he lowered his head to claim your lips again, aware that he needed to lighten it slightly to accommodate for the swollen bruise to your lips already.

He held you that way for some time, allowing you to rest and enjoy the serenity of closeness to Sherlock in the afterglow of connecting with one another so deeply. Sherlock took advantage of the peaceful, quiet hours of the night to match it with little conversation as well, instead focusing his efforts on soothing your body and showing his appreciation and adoration. When you began to match his affections with soft kisses and nuzzles with your nose he opted to continue, pressing a kiss to your forehead before standing from the bed.

He reached beside the bed slowly to retrieve a robe, wrapping you in the fabric you recognized as one he wore frequently before replacing some of his clothes – whatever was necessary to move about the apartment with some decency. When you’d tied the robe he offered his hand to you, helping you rise from the bed and supporting you against him just as he had before. Even Sherlock had to admit the fulfilled swell to his chest at seeing you glowing because of him while dressed in his clothes.

“Come where it’s warm by the fire, dearest,” he offered in a tender tone, leading you back to the living room and helping you lower back into the chaise.

While any ordinary time with any ordinary person you may have simply gone to bed, what was unfolding with Sherlock was anything but ordinary. Instead, you found yourself wrapped in his robe, draped across his chaise, and bathed in the golden morning glow as Sherlock took his place with violin in hand, playing you soothing and delicate songs. It was not long for you to be lulled into a heavy sleep by his music and for Sherlock’s flat mate to follow the sound of a violin so early in the morning.

“Morning, Sherlock,” John greeted, adjusting his own robe carefully as he entered the room. “I see you found our guest.”

“Did you let her in, John?”

“I did. Did you tell her you figured it out days ago?”

Fondness pooled in Sherlock’s eyes at the question, and the lightest traces of a smile twitched his lips upward at the thought. He glanced away from your face just long enough to properly regard John, shaking his head astutely before returning his gaze to you. John knew the answer before Sherlock confirmed it.

“No.”

Rather than press the topic of the Christmas miracle unfolding before him, John elected to fix morning tea.

masterlist.

#sherlock holmes #cavill sherlock holmes #netflix sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes fluff #sherlock holmes smut #sherlock holmes x you #henry cavill

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justabrunettewhowrites-stuff · 3 months

Note

Can you do a Clarisse x reader fic where reader snaps at Luke after he calls Clarisse the lightning thief pls? 😇 Fem reader also.

'Thunderstruck'

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Reader

A/N:Hii!Ty for requesting,lovely!I tried but it turned out rather short.But still I hope you like it!Also sorry for beint inactive I had a ton of tests.Probs gonna post more this weekend then be ia for weeks again(hopefully not)

You snap at Luke after he accuses Clarisse of being the thief,and he reveals his true nature.But unknown to you-Clarisse saw it all.

Among campers,accusations of the lightning thief circulated,asting suspicion on Clarisse La Rue-the one who 'had a motive to do it' as luke claimed.Anger swelled within you as Luke pointed fingers at her.It ended with you and him arguing in his cabin "You've got to be bullshitting!You think Clarisse is the lightning thief?" you snapped, eyes burning with frustration. "You're out of your goddamned mind,Castellan!"

Luke's eyes narrowed, his gaze gleaming with a sinister edge. "Watch your tongue.You might not want to make enemies with the wrong people," he warned, a dark undercurrent in his voice.

But you weren't one to back down. "I don't give a single fuck who believes you! Clarisse is not the thief, and you know it,you fucking liar!" The words flew from your mouth like arrows, fueled by a mix of anger and frustration.

But unbeknownst to you, Clarisse observed the heated exchange from the shadows. She saw you defending her honor, even when she wasn't present. Something stirred within her, a warmth that surpassed camaraderie.

As the argument escalated in Luke's empty cabin, his true nature unveiled itself. The revelation sent a shiver down your spine. "You're working with Kronos, aren't you?" you accused, your voice trembling with a mixture of fear and anger.

Luke's malevolence was palpable as he threatened you, his true colors unfurling like a dark banner. Refusing to be intimidated, you clenched your fists and, without a second thought, delivered a resounding punch to his face.

In the aftermath, as the echo of your punch lingered, Luke's cruel grip on your chin startled you. "Keep your mouth shut," he hissed, leaving you with a sense of vulnerability and shock.

Leaving Luke's cabin, you sought solace by the lake. The water's gentle ripples mirrored the storm within you as the storm outside continued to brew.Unbeknownst to you, Clarisse had followed,silently watching as you grappled with the turmoil of emotions.Sensing your frustration, she approached and sat next to you.

The clouds overhead darkened, and a distant rumble of thunder echoed through the air. Raindrops started to fall, gradually turning into a torrential downpour. With the rain cascading around you, you and Clarisse found yourselves drenched in water.

"Hey," she said gruffly,not even paying attention to the rain,but earning your attention,a flicker of surprise crossing your features as you looked at her. "Thanks for standing up for me back there.Means more than you know."

You managed a small smile,still surprised but as you were about to speak,but before you could utter a word, Clarisse pulled you in,by your shirt as she silenced you with a sudden but equally passionate kiss. It caught you off guard, but the intensity of the moment overwhelmed any protest that might have crossed your mind.

Clarisse released you, her gaze locking onto yours. "Don't need your words right now,just your presence,pretty girl." she asserted.Though,seemingly aware of your shock-and enjoying it,she gave a smirk and spoke again, "Don't ruin the moment with words.Just enjoy it."

As the rain intensified,the world around you blurred into a watery haze.The raindrops, echoing the heartbeat of the moment. In the midst of the storm, your lips met again, a mix of passion and a tinge of vulnerability.

A/N:I'd punch and kiss Luke at the same time but how dare u accuse my girl like that 😭

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paradoxo8y · 25 days

Text

AFK Jorney Headcanons

Merlin

The amnesia made their personality return to basic

Maybe adhd, starts a mission, forget about it, ends up with 3 half made quests

Hyperfocus on magic

Genderfluid, "Are you a boy or a girl?" - "I can conjure hamsters :D"

Merlin's favorite animal are hamsters, that's why they are their familiars

Completely oblivious to people flirting with them

Someone would need to kiss them and say "I love you" in their face for them to get it

Merlin's true appearance looks like a graveborn (based on @miss-anachronism graveborn Merlin post)

Before amnesia was less friendly and more strict with people

Used to be afraid of making friends and losing them to time

After, they forgot about the immortality and become less afraid

And the trophy of worst liar goes to...

Mirael

Loses control of hers pyromancy when under strong emotions

Still buries the objects she has incinerated, mostly hats

Had a crush on Merlin when she was a student, is not over it

More than once people have asked if she dyes her hair, "the answer is no, please stop asking"

In the depression stage of grief, even though Merlin isn't dead

Valen

Sees general Hogan as a father figure, he will not admit

His scar was from an accident when he was still a cadet, he slipped trying to catch a thief and fell face first

Will tell a different fight story to justify the scar

Everyone has a crush on him

He, Lorsan, Chippy, Hammy and Cassadee bet on who will conquer Merlin first

Valen and Hammie bet on general, Lorsan and Cassadee on Mirael, Chippy is winning with "Magister Merlin will help everyone in need"

General Hogan

Sees Valen as a son, will not tell him

Is in the acceptance phase after Merlin's amnesia

Meet Merlin when he was a cadet and they were investigating some mages on the region

Dolly

The only one that know how to do taxes

Lyca and Lorsan

They have the bunny equivalent to zoomies

Both also flop when relaxed

Cecia

She's dissabled, she can walk short distancies but need the plant chair to locomove for long periods

Her servent is like one of those helper dogs that fetch pens and closes doors

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Most of those were inspired by my impressions and ideas while playing the game, if you disagree be nice and leave your headcanons here, I would love to read and this fandom needs to be bigger <3)

(Sorry about the image quality, it's a picture os my computer screen, also, english not my first language, so let's hope it's readable)

#afk journey #magister merlin #afk mirael #afk valen #afk general hogan #afk dolly #afk lorsan #afk lyca #afk cecia #headcanon

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snippychicke · 5 months

Text

It's Just Business -- Four

Fandom: One Piece (LA mainly)

Rating: Teen so far

Pairing: Sanji/Reader

Warnings: No real warnings, but god, I hope you like pining

Summary: You felt like you had known Sanji forever, considering your family had been the main merchants Zeff used to supply the Baratie. You had a small crush on him, but knew it was hopeless considering you were the one woman he didn't seem to pine over.

It was fine. Or so you thought until you ended up on the Going Merry as a bookkeeper and supply manager. Being around him 24/7 was a lot more difficult than just a few days a week.

(Please note 》°《 denotes a scene in the past while -*- will be a regular scene break. Because yeah, I like my non-linear story telling.)

Masterpost | Ao3

Coco village was freed of Arlong after several long years. You had already talked with several of the townsfolk about restarting trade routes to help restore their village-- they did have some of the best tangerines in the region, after all. Plus, being the closest to the Baratie meant even fresher items for the restaurant, as well as a large boost to their own economy.

Business was your trade, and one of the very few ways you could help out. You also helped Sanji prep food for the entire community as a celebration, which challenged the small set of culinary skills you did have. Still, you would take it any day over the fight had left you wondering how you were even standing.

(You also desperately tried not to think that this might be the last time you watched him cook. To see the light in his eyes as he mentally went over his recipe, assuring everything was going to be perfect.

Eventually the evening wore into the middle of the night and you found yourself sitting at one of the few bonfires still burning. You were nestled between Nami and Sanji (Well, closer to Sanji than Nami) with the rest of the Strawhat crew circling the fire as well. You enjoyed just listening to the others, the events of the day leaving you tired. It was probably more than okay for you to slip away to bedrolls Nami’s sister had prepared for the crew, or even trekking back to the Going Merry to crash, but you felt reluctant to leave. Even if you were struggling to keep your eyes open.

"It'll be nice not to be the only girl onboard," Nami sighed during a lull in the conversation, making you frown as you glanced over at her. "Being surrounded by those three was hard enough, let alone Chef Flirt."

Sanji leaned forward, giving the redhead a wink. “Just want to make sure you’re aware how beautiful you are, Nami dear”

Your chest tightened. You had assumed she had known, but then again, Luffy was still insisting you were part of the crew. "Actually…I'm not staying." Your words caught the attention of everyone else, and suddenly you had five pairs of eyes staring at you, making things even worse. "I came to make sure you idiots got here safe and sound,” You insisted against the looks of disbelief that everyone was giving you. “I can't just abandon my job and become a pirate."

Even if Sanji was doing the same thing. Even if Zeff himself had encouraged you to embrace the chance if you had found it appetizing. And… you kind of did. Even with the fighting, you enjoyed being around the Strawhat Crew and could see yourself becoming quick friends with all of them.

"But you're part of our crew," Luffy was the first to actually protest. "Even with our Navigator back, we need you at the helm! Plus you’re the bookkeeper!"

“Your ship isn't that big that you need both a navigator and a helmsman,” You argued. “And surely between the five of you, you can manage your own supplies and ledgers."

"We have a thief, a liar, and Luffy," Zoro of all people pointed out, opening his eye that had been closed before. "And I'm not keeping track of anything."

Before you could argue, Sanji nudged your shoulder. "You really want to keep ferrying supplies back and forth to the Baratie the rest of your life? The same thing you've been doing since we were kids?"

Your stomach twisted at the thought. At seeing the firelight reflected in his eyes as he gave you a pleading look. "Well, no," You admitted slowly. Especially considering he wouldn't be there anymore. You loved Zeff, Patty, and everyone else. But… No Sanji to talk and tease? It would be like the restaurant lost its heart….

But it was the responsible thing to do. It was good, steady, profitable work.

"What's your dream?" Luffy asked, staring at you intently from across the fire, the flames flickering in his dark eyes. (There was just something about this boy you couldn't put your finger on that both scared yet compelled you at the same time.)

Dream? You huffed at the thought as you shook your head. You never really had a dream; just short term goals. You had been happy enough with life that you never really questioned what the future could hold. You had listened to Sanji talk about the All Blue through the years with fondness as well as envy. Nothing brought you passion like that. Nothing called you so much to daydream about it day after day, year after year.

"I don't have one," You admitted quietly with a half-hearted shrug.

But Luffy refused to take that as an answer. "Surely there's something you want?” he pressed. “More than anything?"

Something you wanted more than anything? More than anything, you… just wanted to be happy. But compared to Luffy’s dream of being the King of Pirates, Zoro’s goal to be the world’s best swordsman, and Sanji’s own dream of finding the All Blue, your ‘dream’ (if it could really be called that) would likely fall flat. No matter what Nami and Usopp’s own dreams were.

You shrugged your shoulders. “Not really? I mean, seeing new places would be fun," You offered, hoping no one could tell your cheeks were darkening in the firelight. “But I don’t know if it's enough to compel me to leave everything I know behind.”

~*~

Sanji swore he could feel his heart drop into his stomach as you dug your heels into your refusal. The bright future he had just been daydreaming of suddenly grew dark as you faded from it.

Were you really so against the idea of joining the crew? Of becoming a pirate? Despite pirates being the cause of your parents death, you hadn’t seemed to hold any ill-will to the so-called profession itself. Plus you had just admitted that you didn’t want to stay in the same routine for the rest of your life.

Without thinking, Sanji placed his hand over yours, bringing your attention to him. Those wide, bright eyes that he loved so much, now filled with doubt, worry.

“What about finding the All Blue together?” he asked softly, squeezing your hand softly. In all of his daydreams of finding the uncharted area, seeing the mixture of all the four seas together, you had been right there beside him. To the point he couldn’t imagine the All Blue without you there, grinning ear-to-ear and just as excited as him.

You bit your lip as you looked away, though you squeezed his hand softly. He could tell you were lost in thought, allowed you a moment to go over the pros and cons in your head as you always did, debating if it was worth the risk.

(Please, he prayed, let him be worth the risk.)

You sighed in defeat, leaning against him suddenly with your head on his shoulder. “Okay, fine. I’ll join your crew.”

He heard the other cheer, but it mostly fell on deaf ears as he untangled his hand from yours so he could wrap his arm around your shoulders, squeezing you tightly as he pressed a kiss to your hair. “Thank you,” he whispered to the crown of your hair.

"I've sailed the same stretch of water all my life,” you stated just as softly. “It'll be neat to see other places for once."

Sanji was determined to show you the world as you searched for the All Blue. Whatever it took so you didn’t regret your choice. He’d hunt down every natural and man-made wonder to make it up to you if need be.

》°《

"Oh god, you're gonna be one of those," You swore when you found Sanji on the back deck of the Baratie that was restricted to staff only and mostly filled with crates and barrels of overstock.

But your focus was on the thin white cigarette in his mouth, the lit tip bright in the shadow cast by the restaurant. A lot of the cooks smoked, so it wasn't surprising to see Sanji had picked up the habit. Yet you couldn't help wrinkle your nose--mainly just to give him grief.

"Oh shut it. I've heard enough from Zeff," He grumbled as you perched yourself on the crate he was leaning on.

"He means well." Sanji merely grunted at your defense of the older man. Silence fell and blanketed the air as you both looked out at the ocean, listening to the waves gently lap at the sides of the restaurant.

"I guess I should break the news," You sighed, and watched his shoulder tense as he took a deep inhale of the cigarette. It had been a few weeks since the death of your parents-- since you found your way back to the Baratie where you had been accepted with open arms by the crew, proving they were every bit the family you had felt. Yet you knew you weren’t one to stay in one place, used to having the wind in your hair as you headed to the next destination. Bussing tables, waitressing, all the jobs you were qualified for on the Baratie drove you up the wall after doing it for a few days in a row.

He knew you couldn’t stay still, and you knew he didn’t like the idea of you leaving.

But the suppliers Zeff had reached out to proved that they did not hold to the same kind of quality that you believed the restaurant deserved. "I'm going to take over my parent's route. My vessel will be smaller, so I'll have to make more frequent trips, but like Zeff said, that just means fresher ingredients for the restaurant."

The relief in Sanji's frame was easy to see, warming your heart. You even caught a small smile on his face as flicked away the ash into the ocean. "Aw, were you worried, lil' eggplant?"

He rolled his eyes, though his smile didn't fade even as he looked up at you. "Didn't want to have to deal with some random idiots that don't know what they're doing. That's all."

"Mmhmm," You hummed doubtfully as you slid down from your perch to stand beside him, nudging his shoulder with your own. (You were a little irritated that he had reached his growth spurt and was now taller than you.) "Either way you're not getting rid of me that easily. You're gonna be stuck with me forever."

You couldn't imagine leaving the crew after everything. Just being alone the few days between the restaurant and port made you nervous enough. But you had to pull your weight, prove that while you may not serve the restaurant directly, you were vital enough to keep around.

What you weren't expecting was Sanji suddenly wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him to the point your back was pressed against his chest as he muttered in your ear. "Is that a promise, lil' miss."

Your heart was pounding in your chest from the near-sultry tone. You knew he was just playing, just seeing if he could get you flustered. A game of chicken. That's all this was. You pushed away the butterflies and twisted in his grip and wrapped your arms around his shoulders with a devious grin, hoping your blush didn't betray you. "It's a threat, my good sir."

Sanji smirked, his gaze lingering on you for a long moment before he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead. A friendly gesture… or so you had convinced yourself as he let you go.

Because there was no way he saw you like the fancy ladies that visited the Baratie. Not when you had known each other for so long. You were friends. Friends that playfully flirted just like you bantered and cussed each other out.

Right?

#op sanji #one piece sanji #sanji #sanji x reader #opla sanji #opla sanji x reader

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