#so the question is...what IS Frankie??

[starleska]

(spoilers for Finding Frankie!) here is the Contestant's entire encounter with Frankie - huge thanks to The Game Archivist for the no-commentary game footage 🔥💖

[zeeth-scribbles]

back on my bullshit. the guy who is two guys

[offthewall1979]

this is so good

[hauntingblue]

I loved this movie about nami and her ex situationship reconciling and also anti capitalism

[inseobts]

Unintentional couple behaviour

you two acts like a loving couple all the time, so what happens when someone points it out?

characters: luffy, kidd, katakuri, shanks and mihawk

(zoro, sanji, law, ace and sabo)

a/n: since a loooot asked for more, here I am eheh

words count: around 0.4k - 1.1k each

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

── .✦ Monkey D. Luffy:

You don’t know when it started.

Maybe it was the way Luffy always stole food from your plate, but make sure to never let anyone else touch it.

Maybe it was how he always grabbed your hand first whenever the crew split up.

Maybe it was how he insisted on napping with you, his head always finding your lap, his arms always looping around you like a makeshift pillow.

Whatever it was, it had been going on for way too long. And the worst part is that you never questioned it.

Until now.

It starts with Sanji.

You’re sitting at the dinner table, picking at your food, when Sanji suddenly snorts “You two should just date already.”

You blink “…What?”

Sanji gestures between you and Luffy “You’re basically a couple anyway.”

You choke on your drink.

Luffy just tilts his head, mid-bite “Huh?”

Sanji raises an eyebrow “Seriously? You guys act like a couple all the time.”

You open your mouth to argue, to deny everything, but then Nami nods “He’s right, you know.”

Usopp grins “Yeah, I mean, have you even seen yourselves?”

Franky chuckles “Super obvious, bro.”

You stare. And then Zoro, of all people, grunts “They’re not wrong.”

Your brain short-circuits. Luffy just blinks at all of them, then turns to you “Wait… are we a couple?”

Your face burns “No!”

The crew groans.

“Oh, come on.”

“You’re in denial.”

“This is painful to watch.”

You glare “We’re just friends!”

Luffy nods “Yeah! Just friends!”

The crew stares. Then Brook smiles “Oh? Then you wouldn’t mind if I asked y/n out on a date?”

Silence.

Then Luffy’s fork snaps in half and the table goes dead quiet.

Luffy grins at Brook, but it’s not his usual happy-go-lucky grin. It’s the grin he wears before picking a fight.

“Yohoho,” Brook laughs nervously “Just kidding.”

Luffy hums, still smiling “Good.”

Your stomach flips because holy shit. That was jealousy. Luffy was jealous... Over you.

The realization haunts you for the rest of the night. Because if Luffy was jealous then what did that mean?

Did he actually—?

No.

No, this is Luffy. He’s just protective. That’s just who he is.

…Right?

You barely sleep, and the next morning you wake up to Luffy in your bed.

Sprawled across your mattress. Arms locked around your waist. Face buried in your shoulder.

Like it’s completely normal.

Like he always does this.

Your heart pounds.

Because—wait!

He does always do this. Every night. Every time you’re on the Sunny, he sneaks into your bed without even asking. And you never questioned it.

Because it was just Luffy.

But now everything feels different.

You slowly try to move, but his grip tightens.

“Mm… don’t go” he mumbles sleepily, lips brushing against your skin.

And that’s it. You lose it.

“LUFFY, WHAT ARE WE?!”

Luffy jerks awake “Huh—?”

“What are we?!” you repeat, flustered as hell.

Luffy rubs his eyes, confused “We’re us.”

You groan “That’s not an answer!”

He tilts his head “What do you mean?”

You gesture wildly “This! Us! The sleeping together! The hand-holding! The food-sharing!”

Luffy suddenly grins “Oh.”

Your heart stops “What do you mean, oh?”

Luffy laughs. And then, without hesitation, he leans in and kisses you.

Soft. Certain.

Like he’s been waiting to do it forever.

You freeze. Your brain short-circuits.

He pulls back, grinning “So? Are we a couple now?”

You gape “…WHAT?!”

Luffy just laughs “Well, we’ve basically been dating this whole time, right?”

Your eye twitches “AND YOU KNEW?!”

Luffy shrugs “I just thought you knew too.”

You sputter, because what the hell. What the actual hell. Luffy just decided you were dating. And you never even noticed.

You flop back onto the bed.

Luffy just grins, tugging you closer “You’re thinking too much” he mumbles, nuzzling against you.

Your heart races.

Your face is burning.

But… maybe the crew was right. Maybe you and Luffy were always meant to be.

Even if you were the last person to realize it.

── .✦ Eustass Kidd:

You’ve always known Kid was the stubborn type. He was gruff, intense, and always had that tough guy act. But lately, you’ve noticed something strange. The more you were around him, the more he didn’t seem to mind you being there. In fact, he almost seemed to expect it.

It starts with those small things, things he doesn’t think twice about. Like when you’re both sitting on the deck, and a gust of wind hits just as you’re about to stand. Before you can catch your balance, Kid’s hand shoots out, steadying you. He doesn’t say anything, but his grip lingers just long enough for you to notice.

“Watch it” he mutters, his usual gruff tone, but there’s something softer behind his eyes. You smile but say nothing. Killer, standing nearby, simply raises an eyebrow before looking away, smirking under his mask.

A few days later, when the crew is at port, you notice Kid keeping an eye on you more than usual. Every time someone gets too close or even bumps into you, his sharp gaze zeroes in, and he doesn’t hesitate to step in between you and whoever’s too close. At one point, a shady pirate from a different crew tries to flirt with you. Before you can even respond, Kid steps forward, pushing the pirate away with a low growl.

“Get lost.”

You blink, surprised at his intensity, but he doesn’t look at you, just at the pirate who’s now backing off.

“Kid, I can handle myself” you say, rolling your eyes.

“Doesn’t mean you should have to” he grumbles under his breath, clearly annoyed by something. He turns away before you can say anything else, muttering about how annoying it is to babysit you. But you know it’s not just that.

The crew knows it too.

Heat lets out a low whistle as he passes by “Damn, Captain, didn’t know you were the protective boyfriend type.”

Kid turns on him with a glare “Shut the hell up.”

Heat just laughs, walking away. You shake your head, but the warmth in your chest lingers.

Then, it all comes to a head one evening. The crew’s just finished a round of celebrations, the ship rocking gently in the quiet of the night. You’re leaning against the rail, enjoying the peace when you feel him behind you.

“Can’t sleep?” Kid asks, his voice low as usual.

You turn around, finding him standing there, arms crossed, the moonlight casting a soft glow over his scowling face.

“I could ask you the same thing” you reply.

There’s a quiet moment as you both stand there, not speaking. His eyes never leave yours, and the tension between you both seems to grow with every passing second.

Suddenly, you hear footsteps approaching. Instinctively, you move closer to Kid. You don’t even think about it, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, his hand shifts from where it was casually resting at his side to just hovering near your waist.

The ship creaks, the quiet atmosphere making you both more aware of each other’s presence. He doesn’t speak. Neither do you. His fingers are so close, just barely grazing your side as if to assure himself you’re right there.

The closeness feels… different. Intimate.

You glance up at him “Kid?” you ask softly, your heart beating a little faster.

He doesn’t answer immediately, instead, his eyes flicker over your face, and you can see the internal struggle within him. It’s a battle, and for a second, you think he might just ignore it, keep up the stubborn front.

But then, his hand finally rests against your side. His touch isn’t harsh, but gentle. You don’t pull away.

“I don’t know why I keep doing this shit” he admits, his voice low but clear “But when it comes to you… I don’t want to risk something happening.”

You blink, surprised “Risk what?”

His gaze softens, and the gruffness in his tone fades away. He looks straight at you, the usual deflective annoyance replaced with something more vulnerable.

“I don’t want anyone else near you. Not after I saw that idiot trying to hit on you.”

You smile, your heart fluttering in your chest “Kid, I’m not a damsel in distress.”

“I know,” he replies quickly, but there’s no hiding the quiet affection in his voice now “I just… I don’t want to lose you.”

His words hit you harder than you expected, and before you can even respond, something unspoken passes between you both. In a split second, his lips are near yours, and the kiss is soft, almost hesitant, like he’s still not sure if he’s allowed to show this side of himself.

But you kiss him back, your hand gently resting against his chest. The kiss lingers for a moment longer than either of you anticipated, but it feels like the world has paused, like this is the only thing that matters in that moment.

When you pull away, you both stand there in silence, but this time, it’s not awkward. It’s comfortable.

And then the moment is completely shattered by the sound of someone clearing their throat. You both snap your heads toward the entrance to the deck, where Killer and Wire are standing, watching with amused expressions.

“So,” Wire says, smirking, “you two finally gonna admit you’re basically married, or should we keep pretending this isn’t happening?”

Your face heats up immediately, but Kid just groans, rubbing a hand down his face.

“Go to hell” he grumbles.

Killer just shakes his head “Too late, Captain. Everyone’s been taking bets on when you’d figure it out.”

You gape “What?”

Wire grins “Yeah. Heat won. He said you’d kiss before the next port. Guess we owe him a round of drinks.”

Kid looks absolutely done. You, on the other hand, can’t help but laugh. Because honestly? It’s not surprising.

You look back up at Kid, who’s still scowling but isn’t pulling away from you. You squeeze his hand briefly before grinning.

“Guess we were the last ones to know, huh?”

He exhales sharply, shaking his head, but there’s no real annoyance in his expression anymore. Just acceptance. And maybe, just maybe, the start of something real.

── .✦ Red-Haired Shanks:

Being part of the Red Hair Pirates meant living in a constant mess of drinking, laughing, and reckless adventures.

And somehow you ended up being the most responsible one. Which was probably why everyone assumed you and Shanks were together.

The problem?

You weren’t.

But apparently, no one got the memo.

It starts with Yasopp.

You’re in the middle of patching up Shanks’ arm because, once again, he got into a bar fight for fun, when Yasopp smirks at you from across the deck.

“You know,” he says casually, “you’re basically married to him at this point.”

You nearly stab Shanks with the needle.

“What?!”

Shanks, meanwhile, just laughs.

And the worst part? He doesn’t even deny it.

“C’mon,” Yasopp continues, “you take care of him, clean up after him, yell at him when he’s reckless...”

“I yell at all of you.”

“Yeah, but you baby him.”

Shanks grins “It’s true. You do.”

You glare “I do not.”

Shanks just shrugs “If you say so.”

And that should be the end of it. But it’s not.

Because after that the whole crew starts treating you like... ugh.

“Oi, Y/N! Can you grab Shanks another drink?”

“Y/N, tell the captain to stop picking fights with Marines again.”

“Hey, Y/N, Shanks says he wants something spicy, maybe you could help... and it's not about food”

You want to scream.

But Shanks?

Shanks just goes along with it. Smiling. Laughing. Letting everyone assume you’re his.

And the worst part is that you let them, because deep down you don’t hate the idea.

And that’s dangerous.

Then one night, it all clicks.

You’re sitting at a bonfire, surrounded by the crew, listening to them sing and drink and bicker over who can hold their liquor best.

You’re not paying attention until you hear your name.

“So, Captain,” Lucky Roux says, “when’s the wedding?”

You choke on your drink. But before you can argue, Shanks just grins.

“Oh, give it time.”

The crew erupts into laughter.

You just stare at him.

Because... what????

Shanks turns to you, smiling like he didn’t just casually imply he plans on marrying you.

And something in his expression—

Something warm. Something knowing.

It hits you all at once.

The hand-holding. The lingering touches. The way he always pulls you onto his lap when there’s no room to sit.

The way he lets you fuss over him when he gets hurt, the way he only ever listens to you.

The way he looks at you like you’re something precious.

Your heart pounds.

And Shanks just grins against your lips.

“Took you long enough” he murmurs.

And when you pull back, breathless, flustered, you realize that maybe you’ve been his this whole time.

You blink, heart still racing as the weight of his words settles in. The laughter of the crew fades into background noise, the warmth of the bonfire casting flickering shadows over Shanks’ face. He’s watching you, waiting, like he already knows the answer, like he’s known it for years.

And maybe he has.

Maybe he’s been waiting for you to catch up.

Your throat is dry. You open your mouth, but no words come out, just a strangled sound of disbelief.

Shanks chuckles, eyes crinkling at the corners “You alright there, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like he hasn’t just upended everything you thought you knew.

Your hands tighten in his shirt, and you can’t tell if it’s to ground yourself or to pull him closer “You...” you swallow, voice quieter now, meant just for him “You should’ve said something...”

He tilts his head, considering “I thought I did. Plenty of times.”

You scowl, smacking his chest lightly, which only makes him laugh “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Oh, I know.” His fingers brush your jaw, featherlight, reverent “I just like seeing you all flustered.”

You groan, but you don’t pull away. And well, that says everything, doesn’t it?

And Shanks knows it too, because his grin softens, something unreadable flickering in his gaze “So,” he murmurs, close enough that his breath tickles your lips, “now that you’ve finally figured it out, what do you plan to do about it?”

The challenge is there, teasing, but there’s something raw beneath it, something real.

You take a breath. Then, before you can overthink it, you grab the front of his coat and pull him in, kissing him again, firmer this time.

The crew erupts in cheers. Someone whistles. Someone else yells about winning a bet.

But all you can focus on is the way Shanks smiles against your lips, like he’s just won something far more important.

And maybe you have too.

── .✦ Charlotte Katakuri:

The first time someone calls you Katakuri’s spouse, you nearly drop your mochi donut.

“Excuse me, what?”

The Big Mom Pirates stare at you like you’re stupid.

“Well, yeah,” Oven says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world “You take care of him, he lets you into his tea time, you’re the only one who sees his face—”

Brûlée smirks “And you always defend him when people talk behind his back.”

Daifuku nods “Might as well be married already.”

You sputter “That doesn’t mean—! We’re not—! He’s just my commander!”

Oven raises an eyebrow “You ever see Katakuri treat anyone else the way he treats you?”

You freeze.

Because... okay.

That’s a good point.

Katakuri isn’t exactly warm with people. He’s respected, feared, distant. A perfectionist. The strongest Sweet Commander.

And yet, with you?

He lets you tease him. Lets you see him.

Lets you in.

Your stomach flips.

And you don’t know what to do with that.

You try to forget about it.

But after that you start noticing things.

The way Katakuri always saves you the best snacks at tea time.

The way he steps in front of you during battles without thinking.

The way he lets you touch him, his arm, his back, his face.

His unguarded moments are always with you.

And suddenly you can’t ignore it.

Neither can the crew.

It all comes to a head one evening.

You’re sitting with Katakuri in his usual spot, tea cooling beside him, the setting sun casting a warm glow over his sharp features. He’s eating, as usual, but his guard is down because you’re here.

And then the words slip out.

“…Katakuri.”

He glances at you, chewing “Hm?”

You hesitate. Then screw it.

“Are we… something?”

Katakuri pauses.

Slowly, he sets his cup down. Then he exhales, like he’s been waiting for this.

“You tell me,” he says, voice steady “Would it bother you if we were?”

Your heart pounds. Because no, it wouldn’t.

You swallow “No.”

Katakuri watches you for a long moment. Then, he smirks.

“Then I suppose we are.”

Your brain short-circuits.

“Wait—WHAT?!”

Katakuri chuckles, low and deep “Did you really think I’d let just anyone this close to me?”

You gasp, because hold on. Has he known this whole time?!

Your face burns “You could’ve said something sooner, you jerk!”

Katakuri just leans closer, his presence overwhelming.

“…Would you have been ready to hear it?”

You freeze, because damn it.

He’s right.

── .✦ Dracule Mihawk:

Living on Kuraigana Island with Mihawk isn’t easy, but somehow, you get used to it.

You get used to the silence. The way he watches you over the rim of his wine glass. The way he corrects your sword stance with the barest touch of his fingers.

You get used to the way he does things for you without asking, bringing you an extra plate at meals, fixing your sword when it’s damaged, moving his coat so you don’t sit on the cold stone steps.

It’s just how he is... Or so you think.

Until one day Perona stares at the two of you across the dining table and snorts.

“You guys act like a married couple.”

You choke on your drink. Mihawk just raises an eyebrow.

Perona grins “Oh, come on! You live together, train together, eat together—hell, you even drink out of each other’s cups sometimes!”

You freeze.

Because—wait. When did that start happening?!

You sneak a glance at Mihawk, expecting him to argue.

But instead, he just takes a sip of wine and says, “And?”

Your brain short-circuits.

Because what does he mean, ‘and’?!

Perona cackles “Oh, this is gold.”

Meanwhile, you’re too busy spiraling to notice the small, knowing smirk on Mihawk’s lips.

Because the truth is, he knew all along.

The next few days pass in a strange haze. Every time you’re near Mihawk, you’re hyper-aware of his actions. The way he hands you your sword when it’s too heavy for you to lift properly, the way he adjusts your stance when you’re practicing, even the way he leaves his wine glass half-filled so you can sip it without asking.

You can’t help but start noticing the little things. And it makes your stomach do these strange little flips you can’t quite explain.

You try to convince yourself that you’re just overthinking it. After all, you’ve spent so much time together, working side-by-side, that it’s only natural for him to be a bit… attentive. But you can’t help but feel that there’s more to it than that.

One evening, you’re training in the yard. Mihawk is watching from the porch, as usual, but today there’s something different in the air. Maybe it’s the cool breeze, or the strange feeling of him staring at you.

“Focus” he calls out when you fumble with your sword.

You grit your teeth and refocus, sweat already beading on your forehead. Your movements become sharper, more determined, but you can’t quite shake the feeling that something is… off.

When you finish the routine, Mihawk’s still leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. He doesn’t say anything at first, but you can feel his gaze. You give him a quick, sideways glance, noticing the faint hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

“Something wrong?” you ask, trying to sound casual.

His response comes as a slow, deliberate drawl “You still aren’t quite in sync with your sword. I’ve been waiting for you to catch up.”

You feel your face flush, but you push through it “Yeah? Well, I’m not some grandmaster swordsman like you, Mihawk.”

He steps closer, his presence almost overwhelming, but his gaze softens for a moment “You’re getting better. I’m simply making sure you don’t lose track of your progress.”

The softness in his voice catches you off-guard, and for a split second, you feel as if you’re standing on the edge of something, something new.

But you quickly push it aside, shaking it off as just another passing thought. You turn to grab your sword again, determined to change the subject.

“Thanks for the help,” you mutter, trying to keep your voice steady “But I think I need a break. My arms are sore.”

Mihawk doesn’t respond at first. Instead, he merely watches you for a moment before he speaks again, his tone unusually gentle.

“Are you sure you’re fine? You’ve been training for hours without rest.”

You give him a small, appreciative nod “I’ll be fine. You’re too used to looking out for me, Mihawk.”

He lets out a faint chuckle, but you notice that there’s a strange intensity in his gaze now “I suppose I am.”

Before you can react, you feel something slightly off, a flicker of tension between you two.

It’s subtle, but it’s there. And you feel it in the way he looks at you, the way he almost seems to be waiting for you to say something.

But, just like that, the moment passes. He steps back, motioning for you to take a rest.

“I’ll prepare dinner,” he says quietly, as if nothing had happened “I’m sure you’re hungry.”

You blink “You cook?”

“Of course,” he says with a slight, almost invisible smirk “It’s not difficult, and you’ve been working hard all day. You deserve a proper meal.”

You feel your heart race at his words, but you manage to keep it together “Alright, I’ll take you up on that.”

But as Mihawk turns to walk away, you pause.

For just a second, you wonder... has this always been a normal interaction between you two? Or has it grown into something more without you even realizing it?

The unease gnaws at you as you sit down on the steps, watching him disappear into the house.

You’re overthinking it. You’re just friends.

...Right?

Later that evening, you’re sitting across from Mihawk, your meal already finished. The conversation is easy, but there’s still that lingering, unspoken tension hanging in the air.

Finally, Mihawk breaks the silence, his voice low and casual “You’ve been avoiding the subject.”

Your brow furrows in confusion “What subject?”

“The subject of us.”

You choke on your drink, sputtering “What—us?!”

His expression remains unreadable, but there’s a faint glimmer in his eyes “You think I haven’t noticed? You’ve been acting strange around me lately. Ever since Perona made her comment.”

You freeze “I—uh—”

“Let’s stop pretending,” he continues “We’ve been behaving like a couple, whether we admit it or not.”

Your heart starts to race. You open your mouth to deny it, but the words get stuck. Instead, you just stare at him, trying to make sense of what he’s saying.

And that’s when Mihawk leans forward just slightly, his voice dropping lower “I don’t know what you’re feeling, but I do know that I don’t want you to leave.”

The bluntness of his words takes your breath away.

“I never planned to leave” you manage to say, the words barely leaving your lips.

Mihawk gives you a rare, genuine smile, one that’s so small and almost imperceptible that you’re not sure you saw it at all. But something in his eyes shifts.

“Good.”

And just like that, the tension finally breaks.

You’re not sure where this will go. But for now, you’re content to just be here with him, uncertain, but sure of one thing: neither of you are going anywhere.

[incorrectdead50squartet]

Are you telling me that Frankie didn't know that Sparky, one of his best friends for years, was in better dresses? What did he think he was doing all of this time? I need answers.

[shy-writer-999]

It's getting hot in here...

Summary: After a nice meal, you start to feel weird. Did you eat something funny? It turns out everyone is feeling the same, and there's only one thing to do about it. Read content warnings please!

CW: Lots of nasty sex. Afab reader, G/N language. Aphrodisiacs. TONS of zosan gay shit (like 50% of this fic). Could be considered dubcon because the aphrodisiacs are strong and reader keeps losing touch with reality, but it is consensual >_> Voyerusim, dacryphilia, begging, dry humping, edging, masturbation, "good boy," riding, prone bone, you name it. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, THIS IS (VERY) NSFW CONTENT.

Something was in the water at the new island the Sunny anchored on. Or was it in the wine? The bread? The butter? You couldn’t remember what you ate. Your memory of the night was blurred—scattered scenes played through your mind the next day. Your recollection was… messy and nonsensical. You tried to recount the night.

In the early hours of the night in question, Sanji went into the island’s town to get supplies and ingredients for dinner. It was a nice day full of free time, clear skies with a slight breeze.

Nami and Robin went shopping and they wouldn’t be back on the ship in time for dinner. Brook, Usopp, Chopper, and Franky went off and did god knows what. Similarly, they wouldn’t be back in time for the evening meal. Sanji promised to make enough so they could have leftovers later.

When everyone went on their separate outings, that left you, Luffy, Zoro, and Sanji on the ship.

It was a small, simple, and delicious dinner that night. An intimate setting with just you four, a nice opportunity to hang out with part of the East Blue crew. You were soaking in some modicum of silence and peace (whenever Luffy allowed it) on the mostly empty ship.

Aside from Luffy’s chomping and smacking noises while he ate, dinner was relatively silent. Sanji and Zoro weren’t butting heads for once, either. You sat at the table, talked sparingly, and drank some of the wine that Sanji bought in town.

When dinner was over, you helped Sanji wash up (like usual), then you sat at the dinner table and did some reading.

An hour or so passed. You read your book while Sanji prepped food and cleaned the kitchen a few feet away. Gradually, the room got warmer. You opened a window, letting in some of the cool evening air, propped a door open, and sat back down again.

After a few minutes, you noticed that you felt a bit ill. Lightly perspiring, you almost shivered—your limbs felt heavy, you felt light-headed. You tried to reason it away. Did you have too much wine?

No, you didn’t. You stood up, and as you rose to your feet you realized that you felt like you were going to pass out. At the same time, your body started to buzz. You had never felt like this before. Something was seriously off.

Sanji was still in the kitchen cleaning up, and you staggered in his direction, stopping at the sink to splash some water on your face. The cold water felt great on your hot cheeks, and you could have sworn you saw steam rise up from where the cool droplets met your skin.

“My love, are you alright?” Sanji’s sweet voice shocked you out of your feverish stupor. You had almost forgotten he was there. When you turned to face him, your body pulsed and heat tingled outwards from between your legs, radiating to your whole body. He had never looked so good before.

The blonde’s eyes widened in shock—your pupils were dilated, your breathing was shallow and quick, and your face was covered in a sheen of sweat. He brought a hand to your forehead and confirmed that you had a fever. “Are you sick, dearest? You don’t look well.”

When his skin touched yours, your breath hitched. “Sanji, I don’t feel too good.”

“Do you need to go lay down? I’ll get Chopper to come take your temperature and give you something to help you feel better, okay?”

You didn’t know it, but Sanji was starting to feel ill, too. He was sweating just barely and had, up until that point, been blaming it on the fact that he just cooked and cleaned and was a bit exhausted. But what was more concerning to him was that in your feverish state you looked even more beautiful than usual—no, beautiful wasn’t the right word. In his mind he remarked that you looked fucking hot. Stunning. Sexy, even.

He could rip your clothes off here and now and ravage you, had you been up for it. But that sentiment wasn’t necessarily out of the norm, rather, it was that you were evidently sick, and he was starting to feel a bit woozy himself.

Maybe the food had turned, and he didn’t realize it, so you were both suffering from food poisoning. But that would have been very unlike him to not pick up on the food tasting rotten. It must have been something else. Did you both pick up some virus from the last island you were on? Like Nami on Little Garden that one time?

A soft whine slipped out of your lips. The noise made his stomach flip. You sounded like you were in pain but… you also sounded a bit erotic to him. In this state, his mind raced. Is that what you would sound like in bed? Whining like that?

Sanji mentally berated himself more than ever before, letting self-disgust wash over for a moment before he shook it off. When he got back to his senses (he had been staring at you for only a couple of seconds), he started to guide you to your cabin for some rest. “Come on, gorgeous. Let’s get you to bed.”

But no matter how many internal curses he threw at himself, he felt a tent forming in his pants. Something weird was happening.

He balked at the idea that seeing you in your current state was getting him so flustered. You were ill, after all. What sort of gentleman would he be right now, if he was thirsting over you while you had a dangerously high fever and were obviously in pain?

As he tried to shrug off how odd he was starting to feel, the blonde chef guided you down the hallway and towards your room. You walked behind him and your vision started to get splotchy. With every degree your fever worsened, you felt something get more intense—was this feeling arousal? At a time like this?  

Sure enough, heat bloomed between your legs; small zaps of pleasure radiated outwards with each step. The arousal-sickness combination was disorienting and concerning.

And not only were you just aroused, but it was coupled with wild sensitivity—as you moved, the fabric of your pants brushed down there, sending an electric shock up your spine as the tingling sensation intensified. Were you hallucinating, or was wetness seeping out of your core, saturating your panties?

The walk down the hallway felt like years.

By the time you were almost to your bed, you were soaking wet from nothing other than walking. You tried to squeeze your legs together. Was there a stain on your pants from how unreasonably wet you were? Should you hide it? The fabric of your pants was rubbing you just right, and, in the moment you sat on the (conveniently large) bed, you convulsed in pleasure. Undeniably, you moaned. A quiet one, but a moan, no less.

You sat there for a few seconds, eyes closed and mouth hanging open as you positively buzzed in pleasure. You didn’t know what was happening, and you were unaware that you were slowly rubbing your thighs together, drawing out more tingles of pleasure. Was that an orgasm?

Sanji’s mind was racing, and he was hyperaware of everything—every shallow breath and flutter of your eyes was making his heart patter and the tent in his pants grow. He was fully erect now, and his mind was so scrambled that he didn’t even think of hiding it. He almost couldn’t breathe. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

It was from this point on that you started to question if any of this was real or if you were just having a fever dream.

Sanji stood over you, watching in what could be called a mixture of concern and rabid desire. Your eyes opened finally, and it felt like you had tunnel vision. You noticed it then—his erection, hard and big. There was a visible stain on his bulge where precum pooled into the fabric. His cock twitched when he realized your eyes were focused on it.

“A-are you okay?” Sanji asked. He didn’t know what to say. He needed to drag himself away to a bathroom and deal with this.

His words got caught in his throat as your body literally worked against your own whims. Your fingers moved like they were being controlled by a puppeteer—you watched them in third person as they trailed down your abdomen and came to rest over your throbbing core.

Looking up at him, you gave yourself a squeeze through your pants. Some erotic sound tumbled from your lips. Your fingers started to circle over the fabric of your pants where your clit must have been, and you spread your thighs a bit. You couldn’t control yourself.

“Help, Sanji,” you whispered, mouth dry. “Don’t know what’s happening. Can’t stop.” Your fingers moved faster, building a crescendo of pleasure that would crash onto you soon. You felt like you were going crazy with need. No longer focused on the fever wracking your body, your mind knew only one thing: you needed pleasure.

If you didn’t get more soon, you were worried you’d pass out. Or something would happen. Would you go crazy?

“H-help?” Sanji’s voice cracked. “What do you mean?”

“Touch me,” you whimpered, fingers moving faster now. His jaw dropped.

Luffy suddenly staggered to the door and leaned on the frame. He was unbothered by the sight in front of him and, quite frankly, he looked a damn mess. His hair was plastered down on his forehead in sweat, he had no shirt on, and his pajama pants were riding down, showing the band of his boxers.

“Guys,” Luffy’s voice was strained. “I feel really weird.”

Your eyes darted down. Luffy was rock hard, bulge standing out against the gray fabric of his pants. His cloudy vision came to rest on your chest. With no care in the world, one of his hands reached down to start rubbing himself.

“It won’t go away no matter what I do,” Luffy rubbed the heel of his hand down the outline of his erection, and his words were broken by a loud grunt. “I came here to ask for help but it—it looks like you beat me to it.” He cracked a grimace/smile and threw his head back after a moment, leaning his whole weight on the door frame as he touched himself through the fabric.

You snuck a hand into your pants. Brushing your clit gently, you keened. You were on autopilot, incapable of controlling your actions and not the most cognizant. All you knew was you needed more, and if you didn’t get more, something bad would happen.

“Mmmphhhh,” Luffy stifled a groan as he squeezed himself, lost in his own world. “It’s like my body is on fire.”

Your vision went black around the edges—you started to rub faster, spreading your legs open wide and creeping your fingers under your panties.

Burying your hand in your underwear, you hissed in air at your teeth as your fingertips came in contact with your hot folds. Your back arched and a needy sound trickled out. “F-fuck, Sanji help me.”

Sanji froze, eyes glued on your hand that was shoved down your pants, stirring under the fabric. The stain on his pants got bigger and wetter—it was very noticeable.  

“What do you want me to do love?” He asked in a hushed, hesitant tone. He was holding onto his last shreds of reason, trying not to pounce on you, but those shreds of rationality were slipping out of his grasp like sand.

Your vision started to go black. You closed your eyes, lost in the pleasure that you pulled from yourself in a daze. Sanji reached a hand up to your core and ran a thumb up and down over the fabric above your clit. Your wetness was seeping through the layers already.

Some amount of time passed. You came and it helped you regain lucidity. When you opened your eyes—you had no clue how long it had been—you were laying on the bed and Luffy stood over you, watching intently.

Sanji was sitting at the end of the bed, now shamelessly digging his thumb into the tip of his cock, playing with his slit as clear precum seeped out of it. His hips bucked upwards a few times and you watched. You realized that you were touching yourself, moving your fingers in swift and messy need.

Luffy leaned in and pressed his lips on yours. The first few kisses were surprisingly sweet, loving, even, but they quickly turned sloppy. He maneuvered onto the bed—now, his knee was pressed against your core, a hand braced on one side of your head, and the other rested on your cheek as he kissed you passionately.

You made out for a few seconds, grinding down onto his knee a bit, aiming for friction. Your mewls were driving him and Sanji insane—the blonde continued to tease himself and stroke slowly while he watched Luffy take in every inch of you with his lips. The captain’s lips moved south.

He pulled your pants and panties off quickly, spread your thighs wide, and started to eat you out on the spot. Pressing his tongue on your clit, the captain drew soft circles around your sensitive bud, then he swiped his tongue up and down along your entrance. Luffy wasted no time slurping and greedily licking every inch and crevice of you that he could.

You started to lose touch with reality again—you realized, distantly and in third person, that whatever was wrong with you seemed like you would start to black out any time you went too long without an orgasm. As you were making this conclusion, a loud thud at the door distracted you once again.

Zoro’s body had dragged him across the ship, bringing him to your room of its own accord. He could hardly walk, slamming into the door frame, and before he knew it, he was sitting on the bed next to Sanji, eyes darting between Luffy eating you out and the blonde’s fist stroking and squeezing his hard on.

Your eyes shifted to Zoro, sitting with his legs spread wide on the bed next to Sanji. The swordsman started running a palm over his clothed erection. His breaths were fast, his cheeks were bright pink, he didn’t seem fully aware of the fact his eyes were glued on his nemesis/frenemy’s fist pumping over his cock.

No one said a word for a few moments. It was a silent agreement—whatever was happening needed to be addressed, and there was only one thing to do.

It had been too long without climax for you (again). Your vision went black and your mind went blank. When an orgasm finally crashed into you, minutes later, it brought you back to reality and a few moments of lucidity. Your ears were greeted by a cacophony of ragged breaths and deep groans to your left.

Turning your head, your eyes were met with the sight of two people (who you thought utterly hated each other) entangled on the bed.

Sanji was completely naked, while Zoro had on short, tight, black boxer-briefs. He was on top of Sanji, rubbing his aching erection on Sanji’s while his brows furrowed and needy sounds trickled out of his mouth. Every few seconds, Sanji let out a whimper and arched his back off the bed.

“Don’t stop,” Sanji gasped, grabbing fistfuls of sheets as Zoro’s muscles rippled.

“I f-fucking can’t,” the swordsman grunted in response, his tone tinged with annoyance.

Your eyes stayed glued on the pair, bewildered and feral, until Luffy’s tongue, buried inside of you, demanded your attention. Was he using his devil fruit powers? Head had never felt this good before. His tongue prodded your pulsing hotness, sliding up and down greedily between your lips before pushing inside of you again.

The slurping noises from your captain were sinful. Your eyes crept from his head buried between your legs to the sight of his hips rutting on the sheets beneath. His cock craved friction. He wished his tongue wasn’t buried in you but something else instead.

Grabbing tufts of Luffy’s hair, you dragged his mouth closer, pressing his roaming tongue as deep as physically possible.

“L-luffy, need m-more. Please.” You begged, vision getting blurry around the edges. You felt hotter than before.

Instead of your captain’s voice in response, a loud moan from Sanji answered your pleading. Your eyes snapped to the pair of men again—Sanji was squirming under the swordsman, shuddering and clawing at Zoro’s biceps now as he grinded up into his cock.

“Cumming,” the blonde grunted, pushing his hips upward, grinding harder onto Zoro. “I’m c-cumming, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

The chef came on his own stomach while Zoro rocked his hips into the blonde’s shaft with more urgency, overstimulating him and eliciting desperate cries.

“Can’t stop,” Zoro choked out amidst his own moans and heaves for air.

Tears pricked in the corner of the chef’s eyes, but he didn’t tell the swordsman to stop, in fact, he rutted his hips up again and again. He was gearing up for yet another orgasm when Zoro brought him into a kiss and trailed his fingers towards the blonde’s erection.

More moments fleeted by—more gut-wrenching pleasure from Luffy’s tongue inside of you, hazy images of Sanji and Zoro grinding on each other, smearing the milky puddle of cum all over Sanji’s abdomen on Zoro’s underwear and abs.

Your eyes fixated on the outline of Zoro’s erection through the damp fabric. You were mesmerized.

Time faded into oblivion. The next memory you had was of Zoro flipping you over, onto your stomach, and climbing on top of you. He positioned you in prone bone, pressing his chest on your back. Trailing his fingers down and squeezing a rough handful of your ass, he then dipped two fingers into your hot folds and coaxed fireworks of pleasure from you.

Zoro relished how wet and ready you were for him thanks to Luffy’s previous work. He played with you for a little while, dragging his finger pads across your g-spot repeatedly and curling them upwards inside of you until you begged for more. When he pushed his cock inside, he felt so big that it was almost painful. He entered you centimeters at a time, and when he finally bottomed out and the ring of hair around the base of his cock met your flesh, his hips started to pump into yours rhythmically, gaining speed each moment that passed.

“Feels hot and s-sticky inside,” he gasped, hips shuddering into you as his tip passed your g-spot. You shifted under him the slightest bit, drawing a sensitive gasp from the swordsman. Every movement from him felt euphoric—and coupled with his weight on top of you, you felt like you were going crazy with desire. He couldn’t fuck you fast enough.

Turning your head, you realized that Sanji had one hand wrapped around his cock again but was now in a similar position to you. He was flush with the bed, chest pressing on the covers, simultaneously stroking himself and humping the sheets as he watched Zoro fuck you.

Zoro groaned pure filth in your ear. “Just like that, baby. Fuhccckkk. Feels so good.”

Each pass of Zoro’s length inside of you and past your g-spot was met with a squelching noise from how wet you were—every roll of his hips pushed him deeper inside of you and it felt like you were floating.

As Sanji watched, his fist moved faster and so did his hips. He roughly jerked his length and rubbed his glistening tip into the covers. His cock felt hot, it was pulsing, and each brush of his flesh against the fabric made him shiver. He was working off of animal instinct alone, eyes so dilated and mind so foggy that all he knew was that he felt good and he didn’t want it to stop. He could watch the pair of you for hours. He didn’t care.

Voice husky and bathed in lust, Zoro was getting more worked up. “Say my name,” he groaned as his length passed in and out of you. “Say it.”

Before his name could exit your lips, Sanji moaned into the sheets below. “Zoro. Zoro. Hah, fuck, Zoro.” Moments later, you watched him orgasm all over the sheets below, mouth agape and eyes squeezed shut.

Hearing the chef’s desperate, pathetic mewls made Zoro fuck you faster. Just when you thought you were at the precipice of orgasm, Zoro reached a hand under you and started to rub your clit, then he bit your shoulder. The pain felt good, and the combination of sensations was overwhelming—your orgasm was intense, shocking, and ecstatic.

A fleeting thought passed through your mind—where’s Luffy?

He was perched at the end of the bed, touching himself to the sight, waiting for his turn, which he promptly took when Zoro was done with you.

The next scene in your memory was Luffy fucking you, but you weren’t quite sure how you got there. You did remember that right before Luffy touched you, he asked you softly, “Do you want to keep going? Or have you had enough?”

You croaked out an eager, “more.”

“On top?” Luffy asked, waiting for your confirmation. And when you again agreed, he shifted, so he was laying on the bed, and you were on top of him.

Sinking down on his cock, you started to ride him. His hands came to rest on your hips and his eyes looked hungry. As if he wasn’t full from the ridiculously huge meal he just ate.

Parallel to you and Luffy, Zoro had Sanji on his lap. Zoro’s chest pressed on Sanji’s back, so the chef was facing you and Luffy. The swordsman’s large, rough hand wrapped around Sanji’s front. Languidly, Zoro played with Sanji’s shaft, teasing him at a snail’s pace.

Zoro wasn’t all there mentally because of (what you deduced to be) the aphrodisiacs. It’s like he was running on pure thirst. Something in him wanted Sanji to beg and wanted to see you getting off to the sight. He was getting a kick out of the cook being absolutely pathetic. He wanted to see him be utterly shameless.

“’m gonna cum,” Sanji whimpered, writhing around on the stocky pair of hair thighs underneath him.

“Shhh. Not yet, cook. Can’t you hold on for a little bit longer? Don’t you want to watch?”

Sanji got quieter and nodded, holding his orgasm at bay as best he could while he watched you ride Luffy, who was practically growling out commands faster than you could keep up.

 “Faster.” “Faster.” “Harder.” “More.” Every time he spoke, you did as he said. You did so until your legs started to burn, until your thighs started to shake, until he was doing all the work for you, lifting you up and down on his shaft.

He pressed his tip on your spongey hot spot and wrenched pleasure from you. Zoro edged and teased Sanji within an inch of his life while the pair of them watched—it was almost cruel. The cook was in tears over how good it felt, how badly he wanted to keep cumming, and how much it was getting to his head.

“Please Z-zoro, fuck, please.” Sanji was close to his breaking point.

“Just a bit longer, curly brows, hold on.”

A few more seconds passed. It didn’t take long for Luffy to bring you to the brink of orgasm, which was what Zoro was hoping for. As you started to shake, eyes rolling back in white-hot pleasure from your orgasm, Zoro finally gave Sanji permission to cum.

You hadn’t expected the swordsman to be this controlling, this mean, and this verbal.

“Mmmphhhh. Just like that,” Zoro exhaled while he watched you cum all over Luffy’s cock. “Now you can cum.” He then murmured something in Sanji’s ear that would have left you gob smacked if you had enough wherewithal to think. “There’s a good boy.”

While Sanji painted his own stomach white, you collapsed on top of Luffy. He kissed the side of your head and started to pet your hair.

“You need a break?” He asked you, voice tender and kinder than usual. You nodded and then drifted into unconsciousness for some period of time.

Memories after this point completely faded to black. You had some notion of waking up and sucking Zoro off and then riding Sanji until he cried again, but… the images were blurred. Someone came on your face, two indiscernible figures in your memory were entangled on the sheets again, but… you drew a blank after a point.

---

When you finally came to, you concluded that whatever the fuck that was must have been a very strong aphrodisiac. You couldn’t figure out what it was in though—the wine? The water? Something in the food? Whatever it was, it must have gotten out of your system through sheer number of orgasms and hours of fucking.

You were still on your bed, under the covers and tucked in along with Luffy. Sanji and Zoro were off somewhere, presumably getting cleaned up but…? Who knows. 

You checked the clock—it was around 10:00PM. You, Sanji, Luffy, and Zoro had been going at it since 5:00PM, shortly after your early dinner. So… almost five whole hours? But you didn’t feel like it, really. You weren’t sore or anything which was a feat in itself.

Putting some clothes on, you wandered to the kitchen for a glass of water. You were parched. You’d have to wait to debrief until you saw Zoro or Sanji, or until Luffy woke up.

You walked into the kitchen and were met with a sight that broke your brain for a second. Nami, Robin, Franky and Usopp were at the dinner table, chowing down on the dinner leftovers Sanji packaged up for them in cute little serving boxes. They must have just gotten back from their outings.

Your eyes flashed around the room—wine bottles were open. They were having a grand old time.

Your stomach sank. Fuck. They were about to have even grander of a time if they kept eating and drinking like that. You’d have to sit yourself out for round two—not sure you could handle it, honestly.

After that night, you came to a good understanding of the dynamics with each man in bed. Not only from your memory, but because you went in for seconds with each of them at some point. Luffy was greedy and forthcoming, but kind, like usual. Zoro was an absolute machine, filthy and verbose. And Sanji was, well, Sanji. He was doting, pathetic, and desperate. What a good variety to choose from—you were never left wanting again.

ik im gonna look back at this later and go GOD DAMN woman, were you okay? frothing at the mouth. anyway...

thanks for reading!! this was pretty challenging for me, i wanted it to be halfway decent but just couldn't get it anywhere i wanted really T-T idk if i'll ever live up to the luffy aphrodisiac kinktober fic i wrote :p

here's my masterlist if you're interested!

dividers courtesy of @issysh3ll taglist @eggrollforyou !

[shiggyscumrag]

Yuji Itadori is the embodiment of this text.

“Yuji please don’t stop.” You say panting with a moan slipping out at the end. One hand on your clit circling to match the pace of his hips slamming into you. Fast and rough yet he looks at you so tenderly. Little did you know just how fucking beautiful you were to him. You make him go crazy . “Fuck I wish I could get you pregnant.” Head now hanging low he groans out. Pussy drunk and lost in the sight of you. You can feel yourself about to tip over the edge and cum when a hand finds your throat. Your eyes find his, pink matching the flush on your cheeks. Squeezing he pulls you forward into a kiss sending you over. Pulling back you moan out his name loudly. “Come on baby, say it louder for the neighbors.” He teases pumping in and out working you through your high. Coming to a halt you start to kiss his neck and jaw leaving pink lipstick stains in their wake. “Shit I’m cumming!” He moans out, holding your hips to him tightly.

Megumi Fushiguro would be confused as hell if you ever said you wanted to get him pregnant.

“God I wish I could get you pregnant.” You couldn’t bite your tongue fast enough this time round. He’s just too fucking pretty to handle. Whipping his head around Megumi only gave you a bewildered look. “What did you just say?” Staring at you now fully engrossed on whatever you have to say to make what you just said make sense. “You know how male seahorses change sexes to carry the offspring for the females.” He stared at you with the same expression as if what you said made it all make sense. “So you know, I’d want to like you know-“ you cut yourself out to look at him and see if it was clicking now. It was not. “You want to get me pregnant so I can carry the kids?” He said while still sporting a puzzled look while scratching his head. “Yeah basically.” A long pause followed and he hesitated to say something and then decided to actually speak his mind. “That’s weirdly a little hot.” “REALLY?!” You shouted out of excitement and relief at him not thinking you’re a weirdo. “A little yeah, also a little embarrassing. I don’t know how that’d even be possible or more importantly I guess, how to fulfill that desire.” His hand now cupping his chin he’s diving deep in his brain to find an answer to his own curiosities. “I could peg you if you’re into that?” Looking up confused he questioned you. “What’s pegging?” Shocked pikachu face inserted here. “I have this fake penis I’d wear and I’d just fuck you I like you do me.” His cheeks turned a bright red against his pale face. “You already have one?” He asked and you let out a small chuckle before placing a soft kiss to his lips. Kissing back he closes his eyes then looks at you lazily when you pull away. “Want to try some new things out baby?” He shook his head shyly and you planted a much more hot and needy kiss then before. “Then what are you waiting for baby, follow me.” After that he followed you closely to the bedroom where you pulled a bright pink sparkly strap from your nightstand. “You think you can handle it?” Looking down at the toy he laughs a little. “I’m bigger, so yeah.” Frankie last words. A half hour of prep later and you’re pulling three fingers from his ass. Tears swell down his puffy pink cheeks and his tip is bright red leaking pre. “Fuck why’d you stop.” He whined. “It’s time to for me to see what you get to see every night. I get to see someone so pretty begging for me to fuck him dumb on my cock.” Grabbing the tip of the strap you circle around his ring. You stifled a moan that threatened to leave your throat as you watched him fall apart from the tip of your strap alone. Whiney moans echo loud around the room as you start to slowly pull out then push gently back in. “Fuck! Fuck please don’t stop!” Grabbing at the back of your head he pulls you closer to him. Chest to chest you start a slow steady pace that has him falling apart on you. You can hooch start to twitch when he frantically moans out “I’m cumming!” Which is a little too late because his cum is splattering all over his chest and your tits. You pump him through it making him cum even harder. His head rolled back against the pillows with loud groans following.

Kirishima Ejirou would be highly likely to send you this as soon as he finds out how seahorses can do this.

You’d be at work and suddenly get three loud notifications following quickly one after another. You decided to steal a quick peak since it could be a possible emergency. Lookin down you see it’s from Kiri. You’re a little more concerned now, he’s on patrol right now so is it really an emergency? Nope just three messages that read as follow: “babe babe look what I found!!” *insert link to an article about male seahorses being able to change sexes and give birth* “I wish you could get me pregnant 😔” Shocked would be an understatement. You decide instead of being critical and asking what the hell is going on, to play along. Sending back your reply you tuck away your phone and go back to work. You hear a barrage of messages rolling in from inside your purse but choose to ignore it. Later after work you come home to immediately be pounced on. The closed door now has your back pressed against it while your chest was against Ejirou’s. “You think you’re so cute don’t you?” You let out a chuckle at him while saying “Whatever could you mean honey?” Grabbing your chin he makes you look him in the eyes. “Let me remind you then. ‘Maybe I should tryout a fun new toy I got for us tonight then? Or I can just keep riding you till I get pregnant. ;)’” You look at his illuminated phone screen. A choked gasp left your lips as he lifted you over his shoulder. Smacking your ass he then bit your right cheek. “Ow kiri what are you doing!” You fake protest as you gently punched his back. “I’m holding you accountable for your horniness.” “You’re the one who said you wanted me to get you pregnant first!” “You’re the one who gave me a boner on patrol that had Fat Gum cracking jokes!” He threw you gently down on the bed leaning down over you. His face inches from yours, his breath fanning gently on your face. It was comforting having him this close, so easy to eat up. “I’m holding you to your word honey.” Pausing his thumb finds your bottom lip slipping in. Lapping at his thumb you let it go with a pop. “You’re not gonna make me beg for it are you?” Fuck you’re in for a long, but fun night.

[enwoso]

would you be open to write another fic of lovie in her teenage years? Maybe this time with leah as well. For example when she first brings home a boy/girlfriend. Leah is very sceptical and intimidating while less tries to calm her down and be nice.

growing pains | alessia russo x teen!reader x leah williamson

grumpy masterlist

you had it all figured out. a pin point plan, which in theory was perfect.

your mums, supposed to be in spain, covering a champions league match for a commentary team as well as taking a few days holiday while they were there.

you didn't mind, it meant you had the whole house to yourself well nearly, your nonna and uncles still coming to check in on you as they alternated who stayed over which night but other than that the house was yours and at sixteen that was pretty cool.

you weren't planning anything wild, you'd swore to your mum that you wouldn't and if you did alessia had promised she would let you see light until you were thirty. you knew deep down it was an empty threat but you didn't dare to test it..

you had a quiet night planned, just you and your girlfriend, frankie. nothing major. no big moment. but it wasn't the moment where she'd meet your mums. that was for later on.

they had no idea that you had your first girlfriend. so for now, you would keep it to yourself as it was still early days with francesca or as you and everyone else who knew her called her frankie as you'd prefer for your first girlfriend to meet your mums when you'd had time to mentally prepare for it and the embarrassment which they would definitely entail with bringing someone home.

so, when after walking home from school you walked through the door, hand in hand with frankie. you were relaxed, comfortable and unbothered.

until you stepped into the kitchen and you saw both of your mums stood there. your perfect plan shattering quicker than you could have imagined.

alessia was stood by the coffee machine, lazily stirring her coffee as she mumbled off some story. leah leaning against the counter humming along to alessia's story with her arms folded.

they both looked completely at ease - like they hadn't just shattered your entire sense of peace.

your stomach dropped. alessia was the first to glance up, a warm welcoming smile immediately gracing her face. "oh! hey lovie." she tilted her head as she glanced at frankie. "i didn't know you were coming home tonight — nonna said you were staying at poppy's?”

you in that moment were sure you could hear your heartbeat in your ears as your mouth went dry, your mums words merging into one.

"i— i was, but um there was a uh.. change of plans" you stammered as your fingers twitched in frankie's grasp. you thought about yanking her hand away but frankie held on, offering a reassuring squeeze.

leah, sharp as ever, let her gaze flicker down to your joined hands, the change in her expression was subtle but you didn't miss it. you knew that look.

"and who is this?" leah asked, her voice casual, but her stance had shifted ever so slightly, more guarded.

frankie, to her credit, immediately extended a hand offering a polite and slightly nervous smile. "i'm francesca but everyone calls me frankie." she said, "it's lovely to meet you, mrs & mrs russo-williamson"

leah didn't move, didn't take her hand - just raised an eyebrow. full of curiosity, "frankie.. mhm" she mumbled her tone giving nothing away

frankie, she just stood with a warm smile on her face as you were still waiting for the ground to swallow you whole. praying you would wake up from this what seemed to be nightmare.

leah nodded slowly, like she was mentally filing information away for later, "and what do you do.. frankie?"

"le, she's sixteen.” alessia cut in, giving her wife a stern look, "she quite obviously goes to school, like our daughter."

"i'm just asking harmless questions," leah said so innocently but her stare was anything but, as she stared the two of you down.

you knew this was going to happen. you knew bringing someone home, your first at that, was going to be a nightmare.

you knew your mum would be all warm and welcoming probably ask a million questions about frankie's family, school and sports - cause obviously they had to have some sort of sporty bone in there body otherwise what else would alessia use to start a conversation.

but your mama, well leah was something else entirely.

"so," alessia said tilting her head, her eyes not missing the clear tension between the two of you and the way your hands were interlinked together, "how do you two know each other?"

you could feel the way your heart slammed against your ribcage, say something normal. just be cool.

"um, oh— we're just—" you scrambled for the world but nothing would of any sense would come out. your brain was a complete and useless mess.

frankie turned to you slightly, clearly waiting for you to just say it. you swallowed hard but as soon as the words left her lips they felt wrong, "we're.. um. we are friends"

silence. until leah let out a short and disbelieving snort as frankie blinked.

alessia, bless her at least tried to keep a straight face, "friends?" her gaze flickering to your hand which were still joined to frankie's then back up to your increasingly red face.

you wanted the ground to swallow her whole. "well, not just—i mean—we're..." you sighed, giving up entirely. "she's my girlfriend."

frankie smiled, rubbing the back of her neck, "yeah, that's me."

alessia beamed, "oh, lovie that's wonderful! it's so nice to meet you, frankie." your mum took her hand properly before shooting you a teasing look, "though i do find it interesting that i'm only learning about this now.."

you groaned, "mum, please."

"oh relax, lovie. we aren't going to embarrass you." alessia teased, nudging you and then with a grin turned to frankie, "so do you do any sports outside of school?"

frankie perked up slightly, "uh, yeah i do track and field. for the school and county team."

"good, oh i do miss my track and field days," alessia smiled approvingly, "you'll have to tell me all about it."

but before frankie could say anything else, leah spoke up again. "yeah, yeah very nice," she muttered. then she stepped forward arms still crossed, gaze sharp. "so,, frankie what are your intentions with my daughter?"

frankie visibly tensed "my- what?" your eyes went wide, as alessia slightly choked on her cup of tea covering with a slight cough as her eyes too went wide.

you head whipped towards leah, "mama, no."

leah only ignored your comment, looking solely at frankie, "i mean it, what exactly are your intentions."

frankie hesitated again, clearly unaware that whatever answer she gave could make or break her survival but to her credit she didn't back down.

"i, uh i really like y/n" she said earnestly not being able to stop the small smile on her lips from appearing, "she's amazing and i just want to make her happy."

leah didn't blink. didn't move. just stared. you held your breath. frankie, somehow held the eye contact, her posture straight, his expression unwavering.

finally, leah let out a long, slow exhale. she stepped back arms still tightly folded.

alessia, who had been trying to keep a straight face finally broke the silence, "le, love you're not scary."

"i am scary," leah insisted, a small scowl appearing on her lips as alessia giggled at her reaction.

"you couldn't intimidate a stick, love" alessia shot back, taking a sip of her tea.

frankie then let out a nervous laugh. "i mean... you're kind of intimidating."

leah smirked. "good."

you groaned, dropping your head into your hands. "this is the most embarrassing day of my life."

alessia laughed, wrapping an arm around you. "oh, lovie, this could've been much worse. we could have told frankie about the time when you were little at england camp when you-"

"no, mum. no you said you wouldn't. you swore to never tell anyone about that, not even mama." you rushed out, alessia laughing at your reaction as she mumbled a promise that she was just kidding.

leah tilted her head, "yeah or the time when you had your first-"

"NO, mama. these story's can be told at a later time!" you said this time throwing leah a death stare as she held her hands up in surrender both her and alessia in fits of giggles.

you let out an exhausted sigh. "i dislike this family."

alessia just grinned. "you love us, kiddo"

frankie, despite everything, laughed. "i think i do, too." and, for the first time that evening, leah actually looked somewhat impressed.

maybe, maybe, you bringing your first girlfriend home wasn't so bad after all.

[softlypossessive]

Hello! I hope you’ve been having a great day. I was wondering if I could request a strawhat x mute!reader. The reader has selective mutism, meaning she gets anxiety speaking to people in certain situations. When she does speak, which would be rare, it’s only when it’s just her and her crew. If she was in public she and had to say something she would whisper directly in their ear, otherwise she wouldn’t speak. The relationship could be either platonic or romantic, either is fine. I was wondering how would the strawhats react to their mute member being in a situation where pirates of a different crew surrounds and antagonizes her, trying to get her to speak to them. Also, may I ask that you not make the reader meek and defenseless? While she does feel anxiety when she’s in a situation where she has to speak to people, she’s not an overall anxious and docile person.

♡･ﾟ𓏸 All Strawhats x Selectively Mute!Reader Headcanons 𓏸･ﾟ♡

♡ Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Usopp, Nami, Robin, Franky, Jinbe, Brook, Chopper, gn!reader ♡ Warnings: Fluff, Soft protectiveness, mutual understanding, SFW, platonic, romantic if you squint?? mentions of selective mutism, quiet affirmations, crew-wide affection, no use of Y/N, ♡ Notes: Thank you so much for the request! I really hope I did it justice <3 I went with a full crew interpretation (since it’s SFW) and leaned into that strong, warm platonic love—though if you squint, a few bits might read a lil more intimate. But overall? This crew would go to war for you, no questions asked. Not spicy, just full of love and loyalty.

��⋆｡˚☁️˚｡⋆𓏸

🍖 Luffy

At first, Luffy doesn’t get it.

“Why don’t you talk to them? Are they stupid?” (Yes, Luffy. Yes, they are.)

But the moment it clicks—that your silence isn’t a weakness but a boundary—he respects it with his whole chest

He never pressures you to speak. Like, ever. He doesn’t even notice you don’t talk half the time because he just vibes with your presence

You're still his crewmate, still part of the adventure, still cool as hell in his book

When you do whisper to him? Man lights up like a SUNRISE

“WAAAH YOU TALKED TO ME!!!”

Cue excitement. He treasures those moments

He absolutely throws hands if anyone tries to mock or push you into speaking.

No hesitation.

One second of antagonizing you = rubber punch to the jaw

Thinks your ability to stand silent and still in chaos is scary cool

"You don't need words to be strong. I can feel it. You're STRONG."

⚔️ Zoro

Completely unbothered by your silence—he’s not exactly chatty either

You two could sit in silence for three hours and that’s a perfect conversation to him

He clocks your selective mutism immediately and never asks questions you don’t want to answer

If you whisper something in his ear in public, he listens like it’s sacred scripture

He’s incredibly protective—not because he thinks you’re weak, but because he hates people who mistake quiet for easy prey

The moment someone tries to force words out of you? Zoro’s sword is already out

“You really think pressure makes people talk? Try bleeding first. Then we’ll compare notes.”

He absolutely respects that your silence is a form of control, not submission

Will stand at your shoulder like a silent wall of steel until you nod it’s okay to move

🍳 Sanji

Sanji is a soft king when it comes to your comfort

Doesn’t just “accept” your mutism—he adapts to it

Develops a whole love language around your silences: gestures, hand squeezes, looks, shared glances over food

If you whisper in his ear in public? He goes red every time no matter what you said

Treats your rare spoken words like poetry.

"Your voice... I could die happy now."

But if anyone dares try to “make you speak,” he’s fury on legs

“If you wanted a conversation, you should’ve kept your tongue attached.”

Elegant fury. Fires the first kick. Lights a cigarette after the last one drops

Thinks your silence adds to your mystique and honestly simps hard for it

“They don’t need to talk, idiot. They’re already unforgettable.”

🛠️ Usopp

Understands your selective mutism right away—relates through his own anxiety

Never makes it a big deal, just accepts it as part of who you are

Acts as your unofficial hype man 24/7

Narrates your silence like it’s legendary

“My friend here? Silent assassin. Writes poetry. Could kill you in three moves. Show some respect.”

Gets so excited whenever you whisper to him

“THEY SAID SOMETHING TO ME. PERSONALLY. ME.”

Makes little gadgets to help you communicate—flip signs, buttons, visual cues

If anyone mocks or pressures you to speak, he steps up immediately

Starts going off in a fiery, ridiculous, clearly-exaggerated monologue about how you’re a silent warrior who once stared down a sea king until it cried.

“You’re really gonna push someone who could take you out with one look?”

Absolutely nervous but still defends you—protective even when shaking

Later brags about it like he was chill the whole time

Thinks your silence is mysterious, heroic, and honestly? Very cool

🍊 Nami

Notices your mutism instantly and adjusts without missing a beat

Communicates with subtle cues: touch, eye contact, quiet words

Always leans in when you whisper, gives you her full attention

Becomes your translator in crowds, sharp and effective

“They said back off. Before I make you.”

If someone tries to force you to talk, she doesn’t hold back

Fights with sass, smarts, and no mercy—protects you because you’re strong, not in spite of it

Never treats you like a problem to fix

Calls your mutism a boundary, not a flaw

Gets genuinely touched when you whisper something soft to her

“Only the right people get to hear that voice.”

Thinks you’re powerful in your silence—deadly, beautiful, and fierce

📚 Robin

Understands without needing it explained—she’s lived through silence herself

Views your selective mutism as deliberate, powerful, elegant

You’re not “mute” to her—you’re discerning. And that makes you brilliant in her book.

She’s very observant.

Not only does she notice the exact kinds of situations that make you shut down, she preemptively handles them.

Like casually standing next to you in crowds. Leaning in so you can whisper without stress. Ordering your drink without being asked.

You two become silent duo queens, communicating entire conversations with eye contact and head tilts

But when you’re surrounded, alone, and pirates are sneering in your face?

One of them laughs, “They mute or just stupid?”

Six arms bloom from the stone walls and grab all of them by the throat.

Robin walks up, smiling politely.

“It seems you’re the stupid ones.”

She looks to you and tilts her head.

“Would you like me to break their arms or their egos?”

You murmur a single word

“Egos.”

She smiles wider.

Later, you slip her a note with a tiny sketch of her stepping on the pirate’s face. She folds it into her book like a pressed flower.

🔧 Franky

Thought you were just “cool and mysterious” at first—didn’t realize your silence was tied to selective mutism

When he does figure it out? Immediate SUPER™ respect

Doesn’t try to make you talk—just makes sure you always feel welcome in the workshop

Builds you custom tools or a gadget to help if you want to communicate in crowded places—only if you’re into it

“You don’t gotta say a thing, dude. You just being here is already awesome!”

Treats your rare spoken words like a backstage VIP pass

Will absolutely body block anyone who corners you or tries to force you to speak

If someone mocks you? Cue cyborg intimidation mode

“Real strength ain’t about talkin’. It’s about doin’. And you? You’ve got that in spades.”

Loves hearing you whisper in his ear in public.

Instantly salutes.

“COMMAND RECEIVED!!”

Thinks your silence adds mystery and badassery—he’s kind of obsessed tbh

“You’re like… like a silent laser beam! Precise! Lethal! SUPER!!”

🌊 Jinbe

Understands immediately—doesn’t need an explanation

Has deep emotional intelligence and respects boundaries like a king

Offers quiet companionship when you need it, never pressuring conversation

Has an entire repertoire of gentle nods and thoughtful glances for when words aren’t needed

If you whisper to him, he leans in with the patience of a mountain

“You do not need to speak to be heard.”

Would stand calmly beside you if you're being antagonized—silent, unmoving, radiating “Try me.” energy

If someone pushes you to talk? He won’t raise his voice—but he will command the entire room’s attention

“If your ears are so desperate for sound, perhaps you should listen to your own foolishness.”

He believes your silence holds weight—calls it “the stillness before a wave”

Deeply respects how you fight without words—calls it “an elegant form of strength”

Makes sure the crew understands your boundaries without ever making a fuss of it

Absolute guardian energy, with the soul of a poet

🎻 Brook

Surprisingly intuitive about your silence despite being loud himself

Doesn’t ask invasive questions—just rolls with it, happily filling silences with songs or stories

Makes gentle jokes to ease tension but always watches your cues

“Ah, you didn’t laugh out loud, but I saw that smile! Yohohoho!”

If you whisper something in public? Dramatic swoon every time

“A private word?! For me?! Oh my heart—wait, I don’t have one!! Yohoho!”

He absolutely writes songs about you—like full orchestral ballads of silent bravery

Believes your silence is poetic and meaningful

“Some voices are loudest without sound.”

If someone antagonizes you? Brook’s polite tone goes cold

“Your disrespect will not go unnoticed, even by one without eyes.”

cue chill-inducing violin chord

Protects you through unexpected intimidation—he’s goofy until he isn’t

Thinks your energy is ghostly and powerful in a way he deeply respects

Refers to you as “the whisper between storms” in one of his songs

🧸 Chopper

Soooo gentle and sweet with you from day one

Was nervous at first like

“Did I do something wrong? Why don’t they talk to me?”

But once he understands, he’s all in: brings you tea, sits nearby while you write, never pressures you

“You don’t have to talk. I still know you like me, right?”

Will make you little cue cards or cute picture communication tools if you want help in public

If you whisper to him, he melts.

“AHHH THEY TALKED TO ME! I MEAN—I’M COOL. I’M NORMAL.”

If someone bullies you or gets pushy?

Normally sweet Chopper goes feral mode

“BACK OFF! YOU DON’T GET TO DECIDE HOW THEY TALK!”

Will patch you up after fights and praise how you held your own, even without words

“You’re one of the strongest people I know… You don’t even need a voice to be amazing!”

Lowkey keeps a medical log of when you speak or interact more—only to make sure you’re doing okay mentally

Feels extra close to you because you both were misunderstood at first

♡｡ﾟ☁︎｡♡ﾟ

You were only gone five minutes.

Five minutes to run down the street and grab new ink, maybe peek into the bookstore. Five minutes away from the crew.

Apparently, that was enough.

They came out of nowhere—half a dozen rough-looking pirates, loud and posturing. One of them stepped in front of you as you turned to leave.

"Oi, sweetheart. Why so quiet?"

You didn’t respond.

"Too good to talk to us?" "Or maybe you think you're better?" "C’mon, just say hi." "We don’t bite… much.”

They leaned in. Circling. Testing.

You stared them down, face flat, spine straight, hand hovering near your weapon—but still, you said nothing. You didn’t owe them a damn word.

And that’s when the sound of boots hit the street behind you.

Not loud. Not rushed. But deliberate.

Zoro was the first. Leaning against the alley wall like he’d been there the whole time. He didn’t draw a sword. He didn’t need to.

Sanji stepped up next, cracking his knuckles with a smile that didn't touch his eyes. Smoke curled from the edge of his lips.

Nami lingered behind them, arms crossed, watching. Sharp gaze narrowed. Robin’s shadow moved just beside hers—subtle, but present. You could feel it.

And then there was Luffy.

No drama. No yelling. He just appeared beside you, hands in his pockets, staring straight at the loudest one.

They all paused, instincts kicking in. A shift in the air.

“…This your crew?” one of them asked, voice suddenly less cocky.

You leaned in close to Luffy’s ear, barely a breath.

"I didn’t need help."

He grinned. "I know."

Silence again. Until he tilted his head, smile gone now.

"I just didn’t like the way they talked to you."

That was it.

That was all it took.

The men backed off. Fast. No fight. Just the weight of the crew’s presence and Luffy’s quiet fury pressing down on them like a stormcloud. They knew better.

As they vanished down the street, Luffy turned to you, still smiling—loose and easy like nothing had happened.

You sighed and bumped your shoulder against his in thanks. He bumped back.

Zoro huffed a quiet breath, like he’d been hoping for action. Sanji smoothed his jacket, still glaring at the retreating pirates. Chopper poked your arm, worried, but you just gave him a nod.

The crew didn’t make a big deal of it.

No lectures. No questions.

Just a warm space carved out around you.

Safe. Quiet. Yours.

Because you didn’t need words for them to hear you.

And they didn’t need words to say “We’ve got your back.”

𓏸⋆｡˚☁️˚｡⋆𓏸

[ghoulishhx]

im insane but i need facetime sex with frankie whilst hes away. he would be so shy and lowkey confused (old man doesnt get technology bless him) until you spread your legs for the camera and start drooling over the sight of his cock.

erm ANYWAYS

-💥

this 😵‍💫 oh my god. I've been thinking about this for days now, your requests make me fucking feral girl, I hope you enjoy this lil thing i whipped up!!

18+ MDNI below the cut :3

Frank Castle and FaceTime Sex - headcanon/drabble

he's such a fucking grandpa when it comes to technology. the first time you'd call him on facetime he'd pick up and put the phone to his ear

"no frank- move your phone in front of your face.. no frankie, i can see directly into your brain"

"I won't be able to hear ya if it's not up to m'ear doll.." he grumbles, completely oblivious to the situation.

"then turn your fuckin' volume up old man!!"

he finally catches on and he's met with your giggly face as he raises his eyebrows

"didn't know ya could do this, why didn't ya call me like this sooner babydoll?"

and from then on out he'd facetime you every night (if he could) from his shitty motel rooms, after you taught him it was a whole damn separate app on the phone. Frank loved being able to see you so candidly when he was away from home, often staying on the phone with you as you fell asleep, camera facing you as he stared lovingly at your unconscious form, hating how he wasn't there in person to hold you and kiss you as you dreamt soundly in his hold.

you were the one who initiated the inevitable facetime sex, it was only a matter of time until the light bulb went off in your head. instead of sending him sexy selfies for him to fuck his fist to, why not be his own personal cam girl?

you call him one night, earlier than usual because that day you had been needier than usual.

"everythin' ok sweetheart? was gonna call you in a couple hours-"

he's cut off as you angle the phone down, showing him your body in his favourite black lacy underwear. you devilishly grin as you watch the muscles in his jaw tick, watching him try and suppress a groan at the sight of you.

"fuck mama, ya tryna kill me or somthin'? feelin' needy?" he softly speaks into the microphone, his voice rough, laced with his own desire.

"mhm frankie, need you so bad.. been wanting you all day.."

"shh doll 'm here now.. want ya to do everythin' i ask, okay sugar?" his own hand travels down to his bulge in his jeans, roughly palming himself through the fabric, cock impossibly hard just from seeing your perfect body through the tiny screen.

you whine in response to his question, moving your hands down to your core but he stops you.

"not yet babygirl, want ya to pull y'bra down.. slowly. no need to rush, we got all night.. lemme see those pretty fuckin' tits."

you comply with his requests, pulling your breasys out and slowly kneading the flesh in your palm, twisting your nipples slowly as your breathing deepens, soft moans and whines escape your plush lips as you rut your hips into the air, chasing non existent friction as you clench around nothing. he can't help but shed himself with his clothes instantly, pulling his boxers down and exposing himself in record time, his arousal destroying him.

"good fuckin' girl, my good girl. wanna see what ya do to me? bein' so perfect f'me?... shit how do I turn the camera round.."

you laugh as you instruct him, and your laughs stop as you see him, thick, hard and dripping all over himself as he fucks into his hand, groaning your name as well as a string of curse words and strangled moans. you practically drool at the sight, sucking on your fingers in the camera before reaching down to play with your pebbled nipple as he requested.

"thatsss it babygirl, push y'panties to the side, need to see her.." you comply, moving the phone to show him your spread legs, soaked panties and slick cunt. franks eyes roll to the back of his head as his cock twitches desperately, fucking his hand quicker as precum oozes from his red tip. "fuckin' soaked sweet girl, rub your clit f'me, slowly.. attagirl."

he talks you through pleasuring yourself, telling you to speed up, rub harder, stop altogether. he makes you take it agonisingly slow until you're begging him through the receiver to let you touch yourself more, your release imminent as he continues edging you with his dirty words.

"gonna fuckin' ruin ya when i come home Monday.. fuck baby, teasin' me like this.. shit. need to fill that pretty lil mouth.. need to stretch that pretty pussy with my cock, that what ya want doll?"

"frankie- please.. 'm so close.. pleasepleaseplease-"

"been so good f'me doll, that's it cum for me. pretend it's me instead of ya fingers." his orgasm is close too, however he waits until yours crashes through you first, hearing you whine his name as you both cum together, gushing over your own hands wishing it were the others instead.

let's just say when he finally does come home, you both don't leave your shared bedroom for the entire day, calling your work telling them you're too sick when in reality you're getting stuffed full of him repeatedly until your knees give out.

being taught what facetime was, is the best thing that ever happened to frank.

[todomochi-uwu]

About last night | R. Z

Pairing(s): Roronoa Zoro x reader Genre: Angst, fluff Warnings: This content is for a mature audience Synopsis: What are we? Author's notes: It seems all I can write are self-indulgences, enjoy. Masterlist If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee ☕

Once again, the crew was celebrating a victory. 

Nami and Robin were dancing together; Luffy was chomping down every single bite left of the buffet; Usopp and Chopper were goofing around the island; Sanji was surrounded by a bunch of beautiful ladies; Franky was in the middle of arm wrestling some poor loser; and Zoro was, as usual, downing bottle after bottle of sake. You were content seeing each of your crewmates have fun and relax after the rough days you’d gone through, but there was an empty feeling in your chest.  

You looked at him and wondered if the same questions ran around his head. Did you ever cross his mind other than when you were in bed together? Did he ever want more? Or was it just you? 

Whatever you two were seemed to be enough, in the beginning. Now, the nights you used to crave so much seemed turned insipid. Not to say Zoro wasn’t a great lover, of course not, but once the act itself was done, all his warmth died down, quick to ask if you were okay, and proceeded to snore almost right away.  

Admittedly, it was no one's fault but your own for allowing yourself to fall for the swordsman. 

Your heart, body, and soul ask for more, not only for his body to embrace you but also for his entire being to give you the same passion with which he fights, with which he drinks, with which he lives.                           ...but that would be asking too much from someone who doesn’t love you. 

So now, your punishment is to wait and see if he’ll ever. 

"Hello, love, is this seat taken?” 

“All yours, Sanji.” You gave him a small smile. Trying to hide what’s already written all over your face. 

He lit a cigarette and turned to look at you. "My god, you are gorgeous." He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. " Why don't you go dance with the girls? They are having fun. Maybe that’ll cheer you up.” 

“M’okay.” You whispered, looking at your feet. 

Yeah, you had gotten all dolled up. A cute, and kinda risky dress (courtesy of Nami’s closet); some small heels; shimmery makeup and a quick bun with some face-framing hair pieces. Robin said you looked gorgeous, that anyone would be a fool not to notice you. Yeah, well, apparently, he was.  

"Come on, love. I can’t stand seeing you dress to the nines only to spend all night glued to a chair.” He caressed your cheek. Why couldn’t you fall for Sanji? It would be a thousand times easier, I mean yeah, he might be a perv and a whore, but at least he was honest and transparent with his feelings. Always paying compliments and showing his love through food, no puzzles, no mental games, just plain and painfully obvious love. Must be nice. 

You leaned against the warmth of his skin, "You know why I’m like this, Ji.” 

He scoffed, “Don’t remind me, still can’t believe you fell for that fucking marimo, he’s beneath you, princess.” He lit up another cigarette, taking a deep drag as he looked at where the source of all your troubles remained. Wasted. Dishevelled. Relaxed. "You deserve everything good in this world, and yet you settle for someone like him. I don’t get it.” 

“Sanji.” You gave him a sad smile. He didn’t mean the things he said about Zoro, but he would always try to protect you. 

"Dance with me." He took your hand in between his, sweetly stroking the back of it. Just as you were about to get up, wanting to end your pity party, an uproarious crash turned everyone’s heads. Boisterous laughs and the flapping sounds of sandals running down the corridor. 

“Give me a second, beautiful.” He gave you a bright smile, before running off to the kitchen (you guessed), where Luffy was probably tormenting some poor cooks. “Goddamit, Luffy, why are you like this?!” 

You simply laughed.  

“He’s not wrong, y’know?” You flinched. Where in the fuck was he hiding? “You look drop-dead gorgeous.” 

You just blushed. How does one accept compliments again? 

He extended his hand, “...” The guy from the bounty poster, the one Nami had been gushing about when you first arrived at the island; wait, what was his name? “Saw you fighting back there, you have some impressive moves.” 

“Thank you.” You chuckled awkwardly. Oh god, you and your incompetence against social skills.  

“Care for some company?” 

“Sure.” 

He sat next to you, taking a sip of his drink, "Thank gods you said yes, I spent like two hours trying to grow a pair just to talk to you.” 

“Really?”, you giggled, “why?” 

“Why? Do you really have to ask? I don’t think you know how beautiful you are.” 

"Oh." You looked down, your face hurt. 

“Let’s see if I get lucky one more time.”, he extended his hand, “would you dance with me?” 

“Umm...”, you looked at Zoro one more time, hoping he at least was looking your way, but no. Too busy drowning himself with sake and ale along with some of the other warriors to notice you, “yeah, why not?” 

The next hour you spent beside him on the dance floor. He told you all about his crew, how they had ended up at that island and the things he’d done that earned him that bounty price. He was as much of a good dancer as he was a storyteller, making you forget about your sorrows, at least for a couple of hours. 

Nami and Robin were sending looks your way, whistling and throwing kissy faces. You simply laughed and shook your head.  

His movements were precise, spinning you and pulling you at the right pace of the music, his fingers ran up and down your back, grazing your waist, sending shivers down your skin, the way his mouth would whisper against your ear made your poor heart jump. If only a certain man wasn’t in the back of your head, you might have let yourself fall, just for tonight. 

At some point, you had asked him to step out with you, the heat becoming too much. You sat on the balcony, looking at the scenery, the moon and the stars, the soft ocean waves, Luffy, Chopper, and Usopp being chased down by Sanji. Everything was okay — at least on the outside.  

-

“Look at our beautiful seamstress, doing the walk of shame, heels on one hand and makeup smeared all over that pretty face." Nami said, giggling, just as you approached the Sunny, "had a good night, princess?" 

"Ha, ha, ha, very funny." You flashed her the middle finger, "fuck you." 

“My god, do you kiss your mother with that mouth? Or better yet, do you suck co..:” 

“Shut up!” Cheeks bright red. 

Hell of a night you had. No, you hadn’t gotten laid last night, much to your dismay. After declining your companion’s advances, you had gotten wasted and passed out on the grass somewhere on the island;  mosquitos did have their way with you and left bites on your neck, shoulders and legs; one of your heels had snapped so you took them off, and, because you stepped on a stone, you were walking funny; you also wouldn’t stop crying so you had mascara smeared all over your face. So much for a victory celebration. 

“I’m going to bed, please, please, don’t bother me. All I want is to die right now.” 

Both girls looked at you with sympathy; they knew your heart was broken, and theirs broke because of that. If only the culprit weren't such an idiot. 

Robin stroked your back, "We are just kidding, babe. Want me to get you some tea?" 

"No, I just want to lie down. Need to rethink some life choices.” 

“Of course, I’ll check on you later.” 

You hummed, going straight to your cabin.  

-

“Has Y/n come back? I didn’t see her last night.” 

"Wait, she didn't sleep here?" Sanji said, alarmed. 

“Don’t worry, she’s back. She went to bed; she was exhausted." Robin sipped her coffee. 

“Poor thing didn’t get an ounce of sleep last night. She was... busy.” She grinned. She spied on Zoro out of the corner of her eye. He had woken up, now trying to look indifferent, but she knew he was very alert. She had seen him checking the deck every couple of minutes, waiting for a certain girl to come back; she was sure he was about to go out and look for her when she showed up. 

“Oh, right! I saw her talking to some guy last night, he had white and black spiky hair, tall and buff, yeah, he seemed nice.” Usopp said, eating his lunch. 

“This guy?” Robin conveniently pulled out the bounty poster.  

"Yes! Oh, wow, look at his bounty, that’s a nice number.” Nami gasped, it was an overkill, but she knew the marimo head wouldn’t notice. 

“It’s not that big of a deal. Mine’s bigger.” The targeted man said, jaw clenched and teeth grinding. 

“I mean, it’s quite big, either way. Plus, cute and a high bounty, it’s any girl pirate’s dream.” 

His face turned a deeper shade of red. 

Sanji laughed loudly, “Stupid marimo", before realising what was going on, "Wait, Nami-swan, you think this guy is attractive? He looks so bland! Ugh, his face makes me want to throw up.” He continued making gagging noises. 

“Well, I think he’s cute, but our dear seamstress deemed it nice enough to sit on it.” Usopp choked on his food, coughing and reprimanding the navigator on her vulgarity, while covering Chopper’s ears. 

“Huh? What does that mean? Why would Y/n use his face as a chair?" Luffy said, tilting his head, "Is his face comfy? I don’t think it can be, can it be Zoro?” He pulled on the swordsman’s sleeve, wanting answers. Precious and naive Luffy. 

"It's nothing, Luffy," Sanji said, cheeks bright red. 

“No, but what is it?” The captain continued, “Hey, someone answer me.” 

Nami simply ignored him, "Must have been one hell of a night, she could barely walk straight.” 

Zoro’s right hand now wrapped around his sword; the left one was tightly gripped around his mug. Fumes coming out of his nostrils. It’s almost hilarious how easy he was.  

Crack! 

Franky knew exactly what she was doing, and while at first, he decided to just lean back and enjoy the show, his natural instincts barged in. “He had some great moves on him." He got up and started moving his hips suggestively, "he was so smooth, I was almost jealous... of her” 

 He was also tired of the tugging and pulling that the boat’s sweethearts had, and (though he would never admit it) he loved gossip. 

“She looked so gorgeous yesterday, my heart almost stopped. Well... if I had one.” Brook broke into giggles, then took a sip of his tea. Whether he knew what was going on is unknown, but he always had great timing. “I wonder if he got to see her panties.” 

Crack! 

“Did she dance all night? Is that why her legs hurt?" Luffy continued. 

Crack! 

"Well, they sure did a lot of work, oh, and her hips must be killing her, all that grinding and thrusting, music sure was intense last night.” Yeah, that was enough. 

Crack! 

The ceramic had finally given in. White dust and bits of it now lay on the table and floor. Zoro got up, snapping the back of his chair in the process, he stomped his way down the corridor. 

Robin giggled, placing her face against her palm, amused by the scene. Nami could only sigh. Finally. 

“Hey, Zoro! Don’t go around breaking things!” Usopp yelled. 

“What’s going on? Where’s he going?" said Luffy, not catching a single clue. 

-

He didn’t even bother knocking, straight up slamming the door. 

“Where were you last night?” 

Completely disoriented. “Huh?” Your eyes could barely open. 

“Where. Were. You. Last. Night?” 

“What? What do you want, Zoro? I’m tired.” You turned to your side, burying your face in your pillow. 

Air abandoned his lungs. Purple marks... deep purple marks covered your neck. Mascara running down your cheeks. The hoarseness in your voice. A vision he knew all too well, Nami was right. 

His mouth dried up like Yuba, he felt like screaming, throwing up and running away all at the same time. His feet were cemented to the ground; millions of questions roamed around his head. Were you still his? Please, please tell him that no one had put their hands where he did most nights, that no one pulled noises out of you only meant for him to hear, that you hadn’t allowed anyone to see you in ways only he had. 

Your eyebrows furrowed. What's up with him? “I was at the party; you saw me there.” 

“After that, where did you go? You didn’t sleep here? Where were you?” He pushed, hating how desperate he sounded. 

“Zoro...” 

He glared at you.  

A toxic brew formed in your chest: heartache, a hangover and lack of sleep, don’t make a good combination. “What’s it to you?! Fuck, Zoro why are you acting like this?” 

“I have every fucking right to know!” Now full-on yelling. 

“No, you don’t! Who the fuck do you think you are?” You sat down on the bed, glaring directly into his eyes.  

“I want to know who the fuck my girlfriend spent the night with!” 

...

 

His what? 

“What?” You whispered, the pounding in your head now in sync with the one in your chest. 

“Who did you fuck last night?” His fists tightened at his sides, bile spitting out of his mouth.  

Your brain could barely process what was going on. His girlfriend? Fucked someone last night? Huh? 

“Don’t play dumb, Y/n, the rest of the crew saw you. Getting all cozed up with that lowlife.” 

His eyes didn’t waver, waiting for an answer, demanding it. Any confirmation that you hadn’t betrayed him, but he got none. So, he did what he always does best: he put his walls up. "Whatever, it doesn’t matter anymore.” He turned to leave, stomping his way out, not wanting you to see him this vulnerable. Panic flooded your chest. You couldn’t let him go now, not like this, you were quick to grab him by the arm, "Let me go, woman.” 

“No, we have to talk about this.” 

“What’s there to talk about? I don’t tolerate disloyalty, no matter how drunk you were or who it was with.” 

“I didn’t sleep with anyone.” 

He turned to look at you; you knew he didn’t believe you by the look on his face. 

“Zoro, I swear.” You begged. 

He didn’t say anything. 

“I passed out drunk on some hill, completely alone.” 

He scanned your face and voice, searching for any traces of lies. "You have marks all over your body." 

“I do?” You looked at your skin, noticing small red splotches all over your shoulders; your fingers touched your neck, tiny bumps covering it and itching, “Yeah, I think bugs had a great time last night.” 

You could see him hurting, but you were just as confused as he was, “I’m not lying, Zoro.” 

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but nothing came out. He looked at the floor, not daring to look you in the eyes. 

“Yes, I’ll admit I was dancing with someone,” his frown deepened, “but I rejected him, nothing happened.” You touch his chest, moving up to his neck, making him look at you. You were sincere, he knew that now, but he was still aching. 

“Now, I need you to tell me something.” Your voice got really quiet. "What are we?" 

“What do you mean?" he gave you a puzzled look. 

“Us. What are we doing? What’s this?” You gestured between you and him. 

His eyebrows arched, "We are dating, aren't we?" 

“I don’t know. Are we? You never talk to me, Zoro, I never know what’s going on in your mind.” 

“I assumed we were together because we... sleep together.” He scratched the back of his head, his cheeks turning red. 

“Oh...”, well shit. 

“What? Do you think I just go around sleeping with anyone?” 

“No, no, but you never said anything to me, never gave me a sign or a label or anything.” 

“Sex isn’t enough of a sign?” He snorted. 

“Well... no, Sanji always talks about...” 

He groaned, shaking his head, "Don't talk about him, not right now or ever." 

“Okay.” You bit your lip, not knowing where to go from there. 

"Stop overthinking, you always do that." He stepped closer, pulling you into his chest, "Is that what this is about? Was yesterday's tantrum because of this?” 

“It wasn’t a tantrum! I was genui..." The green haired man cut you off, tugging your chin in between his fingers. 

"You are such a baby. Why didn’t you just talk to me?” 

“I don’t know how to.” You looked away. 

“Fair, I don’t know how to, either.” 

You both fell silent, not knowing what else to say. You blamed Zoro for his lack of communication and clarity, but you were just as bad at it. Minutes went by, simply spent in the comfort of each other's arms,  

“Look, we don’t have to solve everything right this second, okay? Just... okay?" He placed a small yet firm kiss on your lips. 

“Okay.” 

[zorosangell]

⛥ﾟ・。 sake

synopsis: your friends-with-benefits relationship with zoro becomes complicated when he gets monstrously drunk and begins to confess his deepest, darkest feelings about you.

cw: fluffy fluff, comfort, wano-era, reader's better than me (i woulda been all over him), zoro is a drunken idiot, zoro is adorable, zoro is IN LOVE, robin is a girl's girl

a/n: got this idea from an ask i saw @traflawgar had received <3 wanted to try it myself. hope that's okay (i made a point not to read it so i didn't subconsciously plagiarize)

"I must say, that kimono looks gorgeous on you, (y/n)," Robin smiled, resting her cheek in her palm. "It compliments your skin beautifully."

"I know, right! Hiyori picked it out for me," you beamed, looking down at yourself with pride.

The oiran had snagged it from her very own collection, its feel and design worth more than your clothing allowance for a year.

The silk was a mysterious onyx, adorned with the intricate, vermilion of the red spider lily with small posies to match.

"I can't imagine how much it's worth. Probably enough to buy a house..."

With the festival in full swing, everyone had split up to go find their own ways to let loose.

Luffy, Chopper, and Yamato left to gorge themselves, Sanji ran to go talk to some more lovely ladies, Usopp and Brook were on their thirty-seventh musical number.

Franky left to find some cola, Nami went to play with Otama and Otoko, and Jimbei was off having a drink somewhere.

Leaving you and Robin to roam around the festival, taking a moment to catch up.

"Speaking of houses," she chimed, a small smirk in her tone. "Brook told me about your getaway with our resident swordsman."

You practically choked on the air you were taking in, silently cursing yourself for not locking the door when you had a chance.

"The both of you are quite adorable."

A faint warmth rose to your cheeks, a bit of embarrassment sinking in at how easily you both were caught.

"It's not... we're just..." you stumbled, before letting out a tired sigh. "It wasn't like that. What we do is just... casual?"

The woman let out a small chuckle, turning to you with a soft, knowing look.

"Do you really believe that?" she asked, as if what you said was blatantly incorrect. "Your tone seems to say otherwise."

"Of course I do," you scoffed, doubling down. "What we have is completely platonic. It's just... sometimes a person needs physical comfort."

Despite your long, long, long history with the green-haired swordsman of the Strawhat crew, you both had yet to put a label on exactly what you were—even with your clockwork-like hook-ups.

You often craved for more, but the fear of scaring him off with talk of commitment and relationships was an effective deterrent.

If it ain't broke, don't fix it, right?

Better to downplay something real than exaggerate what's not there.

"Besides... even if I did, he—" "You ready to go?" Zoro appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, throwing you over his free shoulder—the other was occupied by a large barrel of premium-grade sake.

"Zoro! What are you—?! You can't just grab me like that!" you flushed, mortified, as he began to walk away with you like you were a sack of potatoes.

"Says who?" he arched a brow, pinching your thigh before turning to Robin. "We'll be back later."

Robin smirked, leveling you with a knowing look before allowing her gaze to flick to the swordsman, "The Sunny's quite far away... I suggest you eat something before you go. "

Zoro's expression remained matter-of-fact, though his strong hand managed to give your hip a light squeeze as he continued on his way.

"Eh... I got what I came for."

"Zo..." you grumbled, carding your hand through his soft hair. "You almost got us caught again."

He hummed, mindlessly gliding his hand over your thigh as you rested flush against him, his face buried in your neck.

"Did not... y'told me t'be discreet so I pretended t'ask a question."

"You snatched me up in front of the whole festival," you deadpanned, brows flattening. "And now I think Robin's onto us..."

"Ya think t'much... t'much thinkin'..."

You cracked a smile at his loopy state, it having been a long time since you'd seen him so drunk.

He downed the whole barrel of sake by himself, and subsequently drank the Sunny dry right afterward, nothing but the wine left untouched.

Which led you both to the crow's nest, snuggled up under the stars as your lover held you in an iron grip—no matter how much he'd never admit it, he was a lovey, clingy drunk.

Playfully, you flicked his nose, heart swelling at its adorable scrunch.

"M'sick of sneakin' around... wanna show you off," he muttered into your neck, dragging lazy kisses across your skin. "An' tell the damn cook what's what.. m'sick of the way he looks at you."

"He's just being Sanji," you assured, biting back a small grin. "He doesn't want me."

"Yes, he does," Zoro quickly combated, brows furrowing. "Be stupid not to... yer so pretty."

At that comment, you flushed, completely taken aback.

Zoro had never said something so blatantly affectionate to you before.

'God, it must be worse than I thought...'

"All right, Zo, I think it's time to hit the sack," you cooed, attempting to wriggle out his grip. "Let's get you some water before you say something you regret."

"I mean it," he pressed on, clinging onto you tighter. "Don't know how I got so lucky..."

"Zoro..."

He grinned, rakishly, as you finally managed to break free from his hold, allowing you to sling his thick arm around your shoulder and stand up.

"Mah baby's one of the strongest people I know... not a lot o' guys can say that..."

He chuckled, loudly, completely sloshed.

"M'damn proud."

Flattered, you pecked a light kiss against his temple, flashing him a warm smile.

You let the baby part slide, tallying it as a drunken slip-of-the-tongue rather than anything of weight.

You both were just friends after all.

Nothing more, nothing less.

"Thank you. Now, let's get you to bed."

As he turned to look at you, his head slowly tilted back, unable to hold itself up.

His eyes brightened, becoming almost starry as they raked over your face, a vibrant, rose-colored aura seeming to radiate around you.

In that moment—with your hair tousled, kimono wrinkled, and expression slightly tipsy—he came to the conclusion that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

"M'in love with you..." he blurted, refusing to look away from your face.

At the confession, your blood ran cold, body freezing in place as your neck and face began to burn.

Zoro had never said the L word to you before.

Much less with such conviction.

It made your chest constrict, and your heart stop in its tracks.

"You don't mean that," you countered instantly, as if it were a reflex. "This is the sake talking."

"S'not," he denied, firmly, staring into your eyes as if they were the only thing in the universe. "M'in love with you, (y/n)... yer pretty laugh... yer pretty hair..."

"Stop talking," you dismissed, pressing a finger against his lips to hush him up. "You wouldn't be saying any of this if you weren't drunk."

"S'tha point," he drawled, moving his face away. "Gotta say it now 'fore I pussy out again... or forget..."

"Zoro!"

"Yer it, (y/n)... perfect woman for me..."

He slumped against you, resting his cheek on your boob.

"I want you... so bad..."

"Zo, you don't know what you want—"

"Want this... with you."

"Zoro, you're not thinking clearly—"

"M'thinkin' fine."

"You're drunk."

"M'fine."

"Then how about this..."

You shrugged off his arm, quickly catching him by cupping his cheeks in your hands—his balance was completely shot, and he was already toppling over.

"You tell me all this tomorrow, and I'll take your word for it."

You paused a moment, scanning over his face to make sure he understood.

"Got it?"

Smoothly, he nodded, allowing himself to sink into your touch as you squished his cheeks.

"Gobt ibt."

At his adorable expression, you broke out into a warm smile, unable to stop yourself as you pressed a firm kiss against his forehead.

"All right, then. Let's get you cleaned up."

[skyguytoast]

𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐀𝐌 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐑𝐎𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐁𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄....

warning: some of the headcanons are explict, +18.

a/n: hii again, i guess writing headcanons allow me to pour out my thoughts about this movie, hope you enjoy and if you fell like comment or reblog, this literally makes my day😻😻

• Sam would never openly admit he was in love—not at first. Instead, he’d annoy you just to get a reaction. A poke to your ribs, flicking a paper ball at your head, pulling your hair lightly when you weren’t paying attention. He thrived off of your exasperated looks and playful shoves, convincing himself it was just fun. But deep down, it scared the hell out of him—this thing he was feeling, this pull toward you he couldn’t ignore. • When Sam finally admitted his feelings to himself, he didn’t waste time hiding them from you. No grand gestures, no cheesy romance movie confessions—just raw honesty. One night, while you sat together, he fidgeted with his rings before finally muttering, "I think about you all the time. And I don’t know what to do about it." His voice was quiet, but his eyes held nothing but sincerity. • Your first kiss wasn’t planned—it just happened. You leaned in to kiss his cheek, and at the last second, he turned his head, your lips colliding in an accidental but electric moment. You froze, staring at each other for what felt like forever, before his hand found your face, adjusting the angle—then he kissed you for real, slow and deliberate, as if he was memorizing every second. • Sam never officially asked you to be his girlfriend —he just assumed you were. You liked each other, you spent all your time together, so why did you need labels? But when he noticed how much it would mean to you, he actually tried. He showed up at your place, awkwardly holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers, and grumbled, "So... do you, uh, wanna make this official or something?" • Sam wasn’t big on PDA, but he always made sure you felt his presence. A hand resting on your back, fingers hooked into your belt loops, a casual arm around your waist when he pulled you close. Sitting together, his hand would absentmindedly rest on your thigh, tracing tiny circles with his thumb. It was never too much—just enough to remind you that you were his. • Behind closed doors, though? Sam was needy. He always had to be touching you—arms wrapped around your waist, head resting in your lap, kissing your temple as he pulled you against his chest. At night, he’d curl up behind you, pressing sleepy kisses to the back of your neck before muttering, "You’re stuck with me, you know that?" like some sort of half-assed love confession. • He made you a playlist, and it was the closest thing to a love letter you’d ever get from him. The songs were scrawled onto the back of a CD cover, his handwriting messy but unmistakable. You skimmed the tracklist and smirked. "'Can’t Take My Eyes Off You'?" you teased. "Didn’t take you for a Frankie Valli guy." He shrugged, avoiding eye contact. "You like it, don’t you?" • Even though he’d never say it outright, Sam loved how you listened to him. When he rambled about obscure bands, the evolution of punk, or why a specific 1979 guitar riff was way better than its 1980s version, you actually listened. You asked questions, nodded at the right moments, and even remembered random facts he told you weeks ago. It made something in his chest go tight. • You had a habit of stealing his sweatshirts and t-shirts, and even though he grumbled, he secretly loved it. Seeing you in his oversized hoodie, drowning in his scent, made something primal in him soften. One day, he crossed his arms and smirked, "So, uh… think I could borrow my sweatshirt back? Or are you just gonna take over my whole closet?" • Sam wasn’t the type to talk about the future, but in quiet moments, he let it slip. Like when you were sprawled across his bed, talking about nothing, and he absentmindedly murmured, "You know, I’d go anywhere with you." Or when he pressed a kiss to your forehead and whispered, "I don’t know how you put up with me, but I hope you never stop." Because even if he didn’t say the words I love you all the time, you felt it in every little thing he did.

+𝟏𝟖 (𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒)

• You were Sam's first time. Before you, he had only known the fleeting pleasure of his own hand and imagination. He had touched himself countless times, stroking his hardening cock until thick ropes of cum painted his stomach. But nothing could have prepared him for the ethereal, overwhelming sensation of being inside your tight, wet heat. Your body was his new temple, and he wanted to worship every inch of it. With each thrust, each deep stroke, Sam felt a primal connection, a claiming that transcended the physical. You were his now, in a way he had never belonged to anyone before.

• Sam whines and whimper whenever you give him a blowjob. When your luscious lips wrap around the head of his cock, Sam is helpless to keep quiet. Guttural moans and whimpers tear from his throat, his back arching off the bed as he fists the sheets for support. Tears of overwhelming sensation prick the corners of his eyes, his vision blurring as you take him deeper, your nose pressing against his pelvis. The wet heat of your mouth, the flick of your tongue, the gentle suction - it's all too much, yet not enough. Sam's balls tighten, his cock pulsing and throbbing against your tongue as he fights the urge to thrust into your mouth, to fuck your face until he paints your throat with his release.

• Sam adores being at the mercy of your desires, in the delicious agony of giving up control. He loves the feeling of your body moving above him, your breasts bouncing hypnotically as you ride him with wild abandon. The sight of you taking your pleasure from him, using him for your own satisfaction, is the ultimate turn-on. Sam's hands roam your body, squeezing the globes of your ass, thumbing your nipples, mapping every dip and curve. He wants to learn you by touch alone, to commit your body to memory. As you chase your orgasm, Sam loses himself in the erotic dance of your coupling, drunk on the sensation of being so deeply, thoroughly fucked.

• But Sam also knows how to take charge when you need him to, to give you what you crave. He pins your wrists above your head, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh as he holds you down, immobilizing you completely. His hips snap forward, driving into you with a force that rocks the bed and shakes the headboard against the wall. The room fills with the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin, of your desperate moans and his whining grunts. Sam's blue eyes darken with lust and possession, his gaze boring into yours as he marks your body with his touch, his teeth, his cock.

• In the missionary position, Sam braces himself above you, his arms trembling with the effort of holding back, wanting to prolong the moment. As he feels his climax approaching, Sam buries his face between your perfect breasts, motorboating your cleavage and breathing in your intoxicating scent. He nips and sucks at the sensitive skin, determined to mark you as his. As his orgasm builds, Sam's grip on your hips tightens, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh, no doubt leaving bruises behind. With a whimper that's part pleasure, part pain, Sam hilts inside you one last time as he comes, his cock pulsing and jerking, flooding your womb with his hot, thick seed. His face remains buried in your cleavage as his body shaking with the force of his release. In that moment, Sam knows he would do anything, anything at all, to keep you by his side, to hold onto this feeling of utter completion and belonging. You are his, and he is yours, and nothing will ever tear you apart.

[leighsartworks216]

You make me feel like a fool (Waiting for you)

Sylus x gn!Reader

Thank you @comatosebunny09 for encouraging me to keep writing this fic!! I'm really glad I was able to finish it. That being said, I have not proofread it at all so lmk if something is weird or messed up 👍

Title from "Fool" by Frankie Cosmos

Warnings: fluff, light angst, kissing, sleepiness, literal sleeping together, established relationship, cuddling, injury, bruises, soft + kinda clingy Sylus

Word Count: 1,418

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form (fill this out to be tagged in future fics)

You’ve been away on mission after mission for almost an entire month. You have had no time to look at your phone; any spare moment you can find goes toward sleeping or eating a protein bar. Messages go unread and unanswered.

When the day finally comes that you get to go home, you have to put what lingering remnants of your energy into remembering how to live in your apartment again. You’re battered and bruised, worn to the bone, physically and mentally exhausted. It’s all you can do to drag yourself all the way to your bed before you pass out, fully dressed and all.

You wake up to insistent knocking on your door. You have no idea what time it is. It could be extremely late, or absurdly early. Time is a concept for people who can process it, and you definitely cannot.

You stumble, wincing the whole way, to the door. The knocking is really starting to give you a headache. You’d be shocked if it didn’t wake anybody else up.

You’ve barely unlocked the door when it’s being shoved open, and suddenly a mouth is slanted firmly over yours.

Sleep vanishes for the moment to provide stark clarity to what’s going on. The flurry of white hair and the leather gloves that hold your face assure you that this isn’t some random guy off the street. Sylus’s lips press against yours desperately, passionate but not heated, like he needs to just feel you there. Before you even get a chance to respond, he pulls away. His hands fall from your face in favor of holding your waist. Red eyes scan your body, latching onto every inch of exposed skin; he frowns deeper with every bandage and bruise he sees.

“You look like hell, sweetie.”

You blink up at him. “So, you’re just not gonna tell me what that was all about?”

You catch a glimpse of a smirk as he turns away to shut the door, clicking the locks into place to play off the rampant energy that vibrates in his entire body. “Mephisto said you got back. I just wanted to check up on you.”

“Some check-up,” you giggle. He faces you once more with a soft grin. How he missed that sweet sound. “Is my mouth okay?”

“With that sharp tongue of yours? I never had any doubts.” He lightly touches a butterfly bandage on your forehead, observing the cut underneath. “The rest of you could use some attention.”

As the fear of his entrance wears off, the exhaustion begins settling back in. You’re suddenly aware of the tremble in your legs, the weight of your arms, and the chill in the air. You hum noncommittally as you lean into his body for support. He hugs you to him without question. “What time is it?”

“Almost 9 in the morning,” he answers. “You didn’t notice?”

He rests his cheek on top of your head. His hand cradles your neck, affectionately thumbing at the baby hairs there. You feel more of the cold apartment air as he lifts the hem of your shirt (definitely not suitable for sleeping in) to reveal more of the dark purple marks littering your body. He covers it back up when he feels you shiver.

“Isn’t it past your bedtime…?”

“All the more reason to take you to bed. Can you walk?”

You nod against him. His shirt is cold from the drive. He smells like gasoline and open roads, undoubtedly from riding his motorcycle. You smell like sweat and disinfectant. A shower is not feasible right now when you’re so precariously two seconds from collapsing.

He gently pries you from his body, just to turn you around and tuck you against his side. His arm wraps around your waist, trying his best - and failing - to avoid your injuries as he keeps you standing. He leads you deeper into the apartment. “How much time off did they give you?”

“Couple weeks, I think.”

He scoffs, sounding offended. “Ask for more time. They’re going to bury you in the ground if they put you back into the field so soon.” With all the familiarity of someone who lived here - as opposed to someone who’d only been allowed to visit enough times to count on one hand - Sylus pushes open your bedroom door and helps you over to the bed.

You wince as you slide under the covers. He supports your back to ease some of the pressure off your spine, and slips it out from under you once you’re laid down. You sigh heavily. “I didn’t break anything this time,” you mutter.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Your glare is harmless with the exhaustion dulling your eyes. You watch through the growing haze of sleep as Sylus strips off his jacket, boots and gloves, leaving them in a pile by your desk.

“You’re gonna sleep in those pants?”

He chuckles, smirking at you as he rounds the bed. “I figure we should both have some modicum of discomfort, given you’re still in your uniform. Besides,” he continues as he slips under the blankets, head propped up on his elbow, “I wouldn’t want to give you any ideas with the state you’re in.”

You giggle stupidly. You can’t be embarrassed right now. Your blankets block out the cold air as you draw them weakly up to your chin. Your pillow cradles your head just how you like it. And if you shift your legs a foot to the side, you bump into his, that tangle and trap yours, socked feet keeping yours warm.

“What if I asked you to kiss me like that again?” Your words are slurring with exhaustion. You’re fighting to stay awake, to keep looking at him even though he has no intentions of leaving anytime soon.

“Any time, sweetie,” he answers surely, seemingly unaffected by his own sleep schedule catching up to him. Not that you could tell in this state, anyhow. “Just say the word.”

You flick a smile back his way. “Right now?”

Sylus’s smirk is softer than usual as he adjusts his body to lean over yours, arms on either side of you to keep him from crushing you under his weight. His face hovers just over yours, the perfect position to admire you in.

You can barely keep your eyes open even a sliver, and here you are asking for him to kiss you again. If you were conscious enough to feel his heart since he stepped into your place, you’d be amazed over the effect you have on him.

Truly, this month has been agony. He knew of your missions, knew why you weren’t answering his messages, and yet each day stretched on into an eternity just waiting to hear a word from you. When Mephisto saw you get back, he’d, frustratingly enough, been in the middle of important negotiations with the territories surrounding the N109 Zone. He would have been here much sooner if that weren’t the case. Maybe then, he wouldn’t have been so overwhelmed with relief when you opened the door that he could have contained himself behind a smirk and a teasing remark.

Though, if that were the case, he wouldn’t be here, would he?

“Of course,” he whispers.

Your eyes slip closed when his face gets close. His breath caresses your skin as he watches the flutter of your eyelids, as he gently kisses your upper lip. That minor caress alone draws out a quiet sigh from your mouth. It’s an addicting sound, reaching deep into his chest and strangling his rapid heart.

Your lips part, welcoming him in further. He breaths his own sigh, trembling at the edges as he finally allows his eyes to close and fully slots his mouth with yours again.

It’s languid this time. There’s no need to rush, no need to let his desperation or fears take a hold of him. He adjusts his weight to cup your jaw with one hand, to greedily keep you there, to selfishly steal more time to savor the warmth of your mouth and the heat of your body beneath him.

He pulls away slowly, reluctantly. He opens his eyes again, and chuckles to himself.

You’re fast asleep. Maybe you have been since he first leaned in, or maybe it was in the middle of the kiss. It doesn’t matter. He brushes his nose against yours with a smile, then leans down to brush one last, lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Sleep well, kitten.”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy

[inseobts]

Hey Princess pt.2

zoro x fem!reader

part 1 - part 3

you find freedom, love, and a true family among pirates—only to risk everything, even your life, to protect them from the chains of your past.

words count: 3.6k

tags: slow burn, enemies to lovers, banter, mystery backstory, angst and fluff

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

“I’m a real princess.”

Your voice is quiet but everyone hears it.

You hear Luffy suck in a soft breath, like that part still surprises him even after the poster. But no one interrupts.

You keep going.

“But I never felt like one. Not really.”

You swallow.

“They dressed me up like one. Taught me how to walk, how to speak, how to smile. I was perfect, outside. Always so perfect.”

You laugh. It’s bitter.

“I was whatever they wanted me to be. Sweet. Smart. Silent. A trophy. A ghost.”

You glance at Franky “No offense… but I started to feel like a robot.”

He raises both hands, eyes gentle “None taken, sweetheart.”

You smile, just for a second.

“Every day, I played the role. And every night, when I was alone again, I’d stare at the mirror and see a stranger looking back. A doll. A puppet with gold strings.”

Zoro’s hand tightens around yours slightly.

You don’t look at him. Not yet.

“I’m an only child,” you continue “No siblings to take the spotlight. No one to pass the weight to. Just me and the kingdom. And their expectations.”

You glance down again.

“Whenever it hurt too much, I’d run to my room. Lock the door. Breathe in silence.”

Your lips quirk “Guess that’s why I still do it now.”

Brook leans forward “Why made you choose to officially leave?”

You go quiet for a second. Then you answer “They arranged a marriage.”

Sanji goes still, just like that. You feel his body shift across the table. Controlled tension. He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t need to.

You understand each other now more than ever.

“A prince I never met. I didn’t even get his name before the engagement was official.” You laugh softly “I was gonna be queen. Or a prisoner. Same thing.”

Zoro doesn’t say anything. But you feel the subtle jerk of breath he takes.

His grip on your hand grows firm, almost possessive, and it makes something stir inside you.

“At the thought of it… I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t even know what love was supposed to feel like. But I knew it wasn’t that. I knew I didn’t want to spend my life as someone’s ornament.”

You take a shaky breath.

“So I ran.”

They’re all silent now. No gasps. No protests. Just wide eyes and quiet, raw attention.

“I ran and never looked back. And then I met Luffy.”

He grins at you from across the table, mouth full “Told you I wanted a spy princess on the crew!”

You actually laugh. A real one. Brief, but real.

Then your voice softens.

“I just want to be free now. Free to live. Free to find love on my own. Free to make my own choices. My own mistakes. Free to just… be myself.”

Silence stretches.

You finally look up. Your eyes shine. Full. Glassy.

But you smile a wide, honest smile.

The kind that reaches your eyes, even if your tears stay where they are, right on the edge, refusing to fall.

No one says anything right away. But you feel Zoro’s thumb brush once, gently, against your knuckle.

Not a question.

Not a comment.

Just a quiet I’m here.

The silence doesn’t last long.

You’re still blinking back tears when Chopper climbs into your lap, curling his little arms around your waist. You don’t even know when he got up but he’s there, warm and soft, and suddenly everything feels a little more bearable.

“I’m glad you ran away,” he says simply “You’re better here.”

Nami sets her drink down and walks over, brushing your hair gently back behind your ear “I used to hide in my room too. And I wasn’t a princess. Just… trapped.”

You reach out with your free hand, the one not still held tight in Zoro’s, and take hers.

Robin gives you a soft, knowing smile from across the table “Choosing your own life is always the hardest path. But the most important one.”

Franky wipes his eyes dramatically “That was… beautiful. You’re suuuuper brave.”

Brook nods, eyes shiny “May I write a song about your freedom, Princess?”

You laugh and nod “As long as I don’t have to sing it.”

Luffy stretches back in his seat and grins like the sun “I’m glad I asked you to join.”

“Me too” you say, and you mean it.

Usopp slams his hands on the table “You know what this means? You’ve got a backstory! That’s crew material right there.”

You snort.

Eventually, one by one, they start leaving the kitchen. Some with yawns, others with smiles. Chopper hugs you again before slipping off. Sanji is last, giving Zoro a long, slow look. But he doesn’t say anything. Just nods once and walks out.

Now it’s quiet again.

You and Zoro.

Still hand in hand.

Still sitting close, like if you let go, the moment will snap.

You finally speak, voice soft “So. ‘Princess’, huh?”

Zoro glances at you sideways, his mouth quirking slightly “Didn’t know it was true when I started calling you that.”

You hum “I figured.”

He tilts his head “You never told me why you hated it before.”

You pause, fingers brushing lightly against his.

“I used to hate it and you because of it,” you admit “Because you kept reminding me of that life with it. Of what I was supposed to be. Not what I am.”

He nods, watching you closely.

You glance down at your joined hands.

“But now…” Your voice dips “Now it doesn’t sound like a cage anymore. Now it sounds like... like love.”

Zoro stills.

But then… his brow furrows.

He looks almost confused.

“You mean that prince they picked out for you?”

Your head snaps up.

“What?”

“That guy. The one you were supposed to marry. Is that who you’re talking about?”

Your heart drops.

You yank your hand away, face flushing with heat, not from embarrassment, but frustration. Maybe a little hurt.

“Are you seriously that dense?”

Zoro blinks.

“Do you think I’d be sitting here holding your hand, telling you that, if I was talking about him?”

His eyes widen a little.

Before he can say anything, you start to push your chair back, about to stand but he grabs your hand again. Firm. Strong. Not letting go.

Then, slowly, he reaches up with his other hand and touches your chin, tilting your face toward him.

His touch is gentle. Unshaking.

You stop moving.

Your eyes meet his.

“I’m not good with… this,” he says, voice low “But I’m listening now.”

Your breath catches.

You stare at him. At the serious set of his jaw. The sharp focus in his eye. The way he’s looking at you, not like a joke, not like an opponent, not like a crewmate.

Something else.

Something closer.

Something dangerous, but not in a bad way.

He still doesn’t let go. And for the first time… you don’t want him to.

His hand is still on your chin, his fingers warm and gentle, like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he blinks too long.

You don’t move and neither does he.

The room feels like it’s holding its breath, like the Thousand Sunny itself knows something’s about to change.

And then… his gaze dips to your lips.

It’s slow. Intentional. Obvious, even. But not cocky.

There’s no smirk, no sharp comment. Just Zoro, looking at you like you’re something he didn’t realize he needed until this second.

You smile, soft and full of something you haven’t felt in years.

Peace.

Hope.

Home.

“Well,” you whisper, eyes flicking from his lips to his eyes, “Can I check off finding true love from my bucket list now?”

He lets out a small, stunned breath. Like he wasn’t expecting that from you. Like something just cracked open in his chest.

And then you lean forward.

Your lips brush his, gentle at first, barely there.

Zoro doesn’t rush. Doesn’t grip tighter.

He just kisses you back, slow and warm, like he’s finally figured out the answer to a question he didn’t know he’d been asking.

Your hand slips to his jaw, thumb tracing the scar under his eye.

He sighs softly into the kiss. And then you pull back, just a breath away.

“Okay,” you murmur, looking straight into his eye, “I’m feeling a bit too heated now.”

You dive back in.

This time, it’s not soft.

It’s hungry.

Zoro’s hands fly to your waist, gripping your hips like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. He pulls you forward, easily, smoothly, until you’re on his lap, knees on either side of his thighs, chest against his.

Your fingers thread into his green hair as your mouths move in sync, heat rising with every second.

He groans low into the kiss, one hand sliding up your back. And for a second, there’s no past, no poster, no titles. Just this.

Just you and him.

When you finally pull back, barely breathing, still close, he blinks once, like he’s trying to re-enter reality.

Then he frowns a little.

“Wait… During that game we played, you said you kissed a prince once. Who was that?”

You freeze.

Your whole face twists into offended betrayal as you push off his lap with a huff.

“Why,” you ask dramatically, “are you asking me that while we’re kissing like that?!”

Zoro blinks “I was just—”

“Way to ruin the mood, idiot…” you say, leaning down with a sigh.

Your face is inches from his.

Your nose brushes his.

Then you press a quick, teasing peck to his lips.

“Goodnight, swordsman.”

You turn, still smiling, and wave over your shoulder as you walk out of the room.

Zoro sits there alone, completely dazed, jaw slightly dropped.

And somewhere, deep down, he realizes something dangerous.

He’s already too far gone for you.

The next morning, the kitchen is full of the usual chaos.

Luffy’s already got rice stuck to his cheek. Usopp is mid-exaggerated story about “almost being crushed by a sleeping Sea King”, and Sanji’s serving eggs like he’s choreographing a dance, twirling plates from counter to table.

You sit between Robin and Zoro, still flushed from the night before. Every time your shoulder brushes his, you feel his arm tense, but he says nothing. Just keeps eating like it’s any other morning.

(Except he isn’t eating like normal. He’s glancing at you. Often.)

And for once, you’re okay with that.

You’re smiling. You’re full.

You’re home.

But then...

“I’m really sorry to ruin the mood,” Nami says suddenly, her voice serious, cutting through the buzz of conversation, “or remind you of it, Y/N… but we have to talk about it.”

Your stomach drops.

You already know what she’s about to say.

She sets her cup down slowly “That poster… it means your family is looking for you. And they want you back.”

The room goes quiet.

Jinbe nods solemnly “We should prepare ourselves. This isn’t something we can ignore. A bounty that says ‘Only Alive’ changes everything.”

Your heart slams once in your chest.

They’re right.

You were so caught in last night’s warmth, in the acceptance, in him, that for a little while, you forgot what it meant.

Forgot that the bounty poster wasn’t just a piece of paper.

It was a warning. A message. They’ve found you.

And now the whole world is going to know who you are.

The room is still silent, but the air has changed.

You feel it and they do, too.

Zoro turns his head toward you slightly, his eye focused on your face now, not his plate.

Luffy’s not eating. Even Brook isn’t singing.

You straighten a little, biting the inside of your cheek “I… I didn’t think they’d go this far” you whisper.

Robin speaks next, her voice calm “Royal families have influence. That kind of bounty means they’ve contacted the World Government directly. This isn’t about money. It’s about ownership.”

You flinch.

That word, ownership, crawls under your skin.

Sanji lights a cigarette but doesn’t say anything, his jaw tight as smoke curls slowly from his lips.

Zoro doesn’t speak either, but under the table, his hand brushes yours again. Not fully taking it. Just a touch, a reminder that you have someone now, that you’re not alone.

Luffy leans forward, grinning slightly “Hey. We’re not giving you back.”

Your head jerks toward him.

He grins wider, rice still stuck to his cheek “You’re part of my crew. That means you don’t belong to anyone else.”

Brook nods “Yohoho! We already claimed you, dear princess.”

Franky slams a hand on the table “Super claimed!”

You laugh. Or maybe choke. It’s hard to tell.

You nod, looking around at each of them, trying to take this in “Thank you. All of you.”

But there’s still a weight in your chest.

This is more than just a past catching up to you.

It’s a future that may try to pull you away from this. From them. From him.

You grip the edge of your plate tighter.

Zoro notices.

So does Nami.

But no one pushes you to say anything more. Not yet. Not until you’re ready.

And Zoro, quietly, under his breath, only for you, leans in and mutters “They can try. But they’re not taking you. I’ll cut through kingdoms if I have to.”

You don’t say anything but your hand finds his under the table, fingers curling into his like a lifeline.

Because that’s what this crew is and you’re not ready to give it up.

Not for anyone.

It’s been days since your poster was revealed. Since your story came out. And still, they treat you the same.

Luffy laughs just as loud. Nami scolds just as sharply. Zoro watches you with a kind of quiet fire, like he’s waiting for someone to try and take you again.

You haven’t left the Sunny much.

Even when they dock at a new island, a small one, peaceful-looking, filled with smiling villagers and white-sand roads, you still hesitate.

“I’ll stay on the ship,” you say again, standing near the railing “Just in case.”

“You said that last time” Nami reminds gently.

Franky grins “This island doesn’t even have a Marine base, sister!”

“They look nice...” Chopper adds, waving at a child on the dock who waves back cheerfully.

But your gut twists.

“I just…” You glance toward the village “I have a bad feeling.”

Zoro walks up next to you, arms crossed.

“You can protect yourself. I know that.” He speaks low, just to you “But I can protect you too.”

You blink, startled.

“And besides…” he adds with a smirk, “how am I supposed to flirt with you if you stay cooped up here?”

You roll your eyes “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

“What, flirting? You kissing me on my lap wasn’t exactly subtle, Princess.”

You snort and shove him lightly.

He grabs your wrist with ease, pulls you close enough that your nose brushes his “Come with me.”

He’s not one who usually does that in front of other people, this means he’s really trying his best for making you feel comfortable.

You hesitate for a breath.

Then nod.

The village really does seem safe.

Warm smiles. Free bread. Laughter from a marketplace where Robin is already browsing books and Luffy is trying to trade seaweed for meat.

You and Zoro walk side by side, bickering gently.

He mocks the way you squint at fancy fruit names.

You tease him for walking straight into a barrel.

You laugh harder than you have in days, maybe even than you ever did in your whole life.

His hand brushes yours again and again, but doesn’t hold it.

Not until you stop to look at a little stand selling handmade earrings.

You turn to make a joke.

He’s gone.

At first, you’re just confused.

Maybe he walked ahead? Maybe someone called him?

You spin around “Zoro?”

No answer.

Just kind eyes. Curious smiles.

Too many.

And then pain explodes at the back of your head.

Darkness swallows you whole.

You wake up in silk.

Your old room.

The room you ran from.

You sit up too fast and your head spins. The walls are familiar and terrifying.

The windows are locked. The door is barred from the outside. The guards are right out of your door, you can hear their armor shifting with every breath.

You’re trapped.

No escape this time.

No Sunny. No Zoro. No crew.

Just this life you fought so hard to leave behind.

Meanwhile, on the Sunny

“She was right behind me,” Zoro says again, fists clenched “She was right there.”

Nami grips the map in her hands like she wants to tear it in half “Those smiling bastards... this was a setup.”

“They separated us on purpose,” Robin says quietly “They waited until she let her guard down.”

“I knew she didn’t want to leave the ship,” Sanji growls, slamming his hand on the table “We pushed her to go.”

“It’s my fault.” Zoro says suddenly, standing at the edge of the deck, eyes locked on the distant island.

Everyone falls silent.

“I told her I’d protect her,” he says, voice tight, low, barely controlled “I promised her.”

No one corrects him. Because he’s right.

He did.

“She trusted me.”

And now you're gone.

You’re not sure how much time passes after you wake up in that cursed room.

Could be minutes. Could be hours.

Everything feels surreal. Like a nightmare someone wrapped in velvet and perfume. The room is exactly how you left it, nothing out of place. Not the canopy bed. Not the chandelier. Not the golden-framed mirror you used to stare at with dead eyes.

Then you hear the heavy footsteps. The familiar rhythm.

Your parents.

The door opens. Two guards stand beside them like statues. Your father walks in first, cold, stern, commanding. Your mother follows, all grace and distance, like a statue come to life.

You don’t stand.

You don’t bow.

You don’t speak.

“So,” your father begins “You’re finally awake.”

You glare.

“I suppose congratulations are in order,” your mother says flatly “You managed to embarrass us in every corner of the world.”

“Good to see you too” you mutter.

They ignore it.

Your father’s voice sharpens “You are a princess. You are not a pirate.”

“Don’t tell me what I am” you shoot back.

“This charade ends now,” he snaps “You’ve had your fun. But it’s time to return to your life. To your duty.”

“Even if I hate it?” you ask “Even if I don’t want it?”

Your mother’s gaze hardens “You don’t have a choice.”

“I made one when I ran,” you say, rising from the edge of the bed “And I’ll do it again.”

He laughs once, a bitter one “You won’t get that chance. You think running away once means you’ve won? You’re locked in now. We made sure of it.”

They turn toward the door. But before they leave, your father pauses.

“You should also consider what will happen to the pirates you’ve chosen to throw your lot in with.”

You freeze.

“What?”

He turns back, face unreadable “We found you. We can find them. And unlike with you, we won’t be so gentle.”

Your hands curl into fists.

“You can’t.” you breathe “You don’t know them. They’ve fought worse people. They’ve defeated warlords. Marines. They won’t let you take me.”

Your mother tilts her head “And yet… here you are.”

That shuts you up.

They see it. They enjoy it.

“And now,” your father continues, “you’ll do what you were always meant to. The Prince of Albourne arrives in three days. The wedding will take place before the month’s end.”

“No.”

Your voice is clear, firm, slicing through the tension.

Your mother’s eyes narrow “Don’t be childish.”

“I said no.”

Your father moves closer, towering over you “You will marry him. You will do your duty. You will save this kingdom’s future and your own reputation.”

“I don’t want to!” you snap “I can’t... because…”

You trail off.

They wait.

“Because what?” your mother presses.

You take a breath, then blurt it out.

“I have someone I like.”

The room stills.

Your father laughs, low and bitter “Like?”

“You LIKE someone?” your mother echoes with disbelief “How quaint.”

“That’s not—” you start.

“And who is this one you LIKE so much?” your father mocks “Another pirate? A brute? Or maybe the idiot who let you get taken?”

Your heart stings. But you don’t let it show.

“You’re unbelievable...” you whisper.

“You’re a child chasing fantasy,” your mother replies, cold “There is no love for girls like you. Only expectation.”

Tears threaten to rise. You shove past them.

You open the door of your room signing them to leave and they do, as you slam the door behind them.

And this time, when you hear the lock click from the outside it feels like a piece of you locks away too.

Three days.

You count them by the sunlight on your window.

Three days locked in your room. Three days of no freedom. Three days of silence, of pressure, of growing panic.

Tonight, you’re to meet the prince.

Tonight, your life will be locked away in a different kind of prison.

Unless…

Your hand tightens around the silver butter knife you’ve kept hidden beneath your pillow. Not much. But enough.

Lunchtime

Like always, the guards knock once and open the door.

“Your food—”

You strike.

It’s fast. Messy. One gets the knife to his arm, the other a tray to the head.

You tumble past them, their surprised grunts echoing in the corridor.

You don’t stop.

You run.

Blood trails down your leg, one of them caught your thigh with a dagger in the scuffle, but you barely feel it. The adrenaline burns hotter than pain.

Corridor after corridor.

Hall after hall.

You burst through the side doors into the garden, past the royal courtyard, across the outer walls and finally, out.

You’re outside the palace.

Free.

Almost.

You breathe hard, turning a corner and then freeze.