alwayssassydreamer

[alwayssassydreamer]

[alwayssassydreamer]

to the sweet ann(on) that requested the shanks, beckman reader story, I'll gladly do it, it might take some time though. Just a quick question do you want it sfw or nsfw and female or gn reader? (Just hit me up in the ask again ☺️)

[alwayssassydreamer]

Let Me Light A Fire in You

A/N: okay i don't know what to say, well here you go @legends-of-the-grandline you wanted smut and said you didn't care about any plot - so here you go no plot (which was really hard, sorry it's a bit rushed)

Plot: Ace is eager to please you, that's actually it

Warnings: nsfw, oral (receiving), fingering, some slight misuse of Devil Fruit powers, bondage, sir kink, overstim, edging?, not proofread, MDNI ⚠️🔞

Characters: Ace x F!Reader

“You sure about this?”

Ace’s voice was rough, already thick with heat but there was hesitation in it. Sure you had suggested this after he may or may not have told you in a drunkenly moment that he would love to do that but still he was - nervous and also eager (and horny).

He was standing over you with the soft rope in hand, his eyes darker than you’ve ever seen them.

He was hard. Already. From just the thought of this.

Tying you up.

Owning you.

“Say it again,” he growled.

You lifted your arms above your head where you were lying on his bunk, wrists brushing against the pillow.

“Yes I'm sure. I want you to tie me up, Sir.”

His breath caught, just for a second. Then he climbed over you like a storm.

“Fucking hell…”

His fingers weren't practiced, but they were strong. The ropes wrapped around your wrists with a tug, firm and tight enough to remind you who was in control. He pulled your hands a little higher and tied them to the headboard, clumsy but secure.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he said, but his voice was shaking with restraint.

You nodded. “Don't worry it's fine. I want this. I want you, Sir.”

Hearing that qord made him groan. Deep and needy and he kissed you like you’ve lit him on fire from the inside. His hands roamed down your body, trembling with the effort not to tear your clothes off. He kissed your neck, your chest, your stomach, worshipping every inch with his mouth.

The way he moved, the way he cherished you caused you to already be soaked. From just being tied and worshipped by him.

And he hadn’t even touched you yet.

“God, you’re perfect,” he whispered against your skin. “So fucking pretty, tied up like this… Look at you babe, all of this just for me.”

“Say my name.” he urged, his voice thick with want.

“Ace—please—” you moaned

“No, not like that.”

“Ace—Sir—”

He growled. Actually growled and you didn't miss the shiver that ran down his spine from the simple word "Sir".

He hastily tugged at your clothes eager to rip them off you but you made it clear beforehand that if he did you'd get mad at him because they were your favorite clothes - which wasn't true you just wanted to mess with him.

So you watched him with a smirk as he hurried to get you out of your shirt first pulling it over your head as far as he could given that you were alread tied.

Then he eagerly moved down to your pants, fumbling almost clumsily with your belt and when it was finally undone he tore them down along with your underwear leaving you exposed before him.

He took a moment to admire you. "So perfect" he mumbled "And all mine". But admiration was cut short because need was greater than that.

His head dipped between your thighs and before you could brace yourself he already started devouring you.

Tongue hot, wet and greedy.

You cried out, body pulling against the ropes, but they held - and he held you still with his arms pressing down your thighs leaving you open for him as he ate you like he was starving.

You sobbed out his name yet everytime you called him "Sir" he got more and more eager, all while he didn’t let up in the slightest way.

“You wanted this,” he panted between licks. “Wanted me to ruin you - tied up and trembling…”

You were close. So close. Too fast. Too much.

“Ace—Sir—please—I'm gonna—!”

"Cum for me babe" he grinned slurping all over your core fueled by your words.

"Fu-u-uck" you yelled as your orgasm washed over you.

Hard. Delicious.

Ace licked everything you gave him off you before he lifted his head smiling up at licking his lips.

"Oh god that was......fast. Amazing though" you panted smiling.

"That was just the beginning babe. You wanted this remember and I've got some tricks up my sleeve" Ace said planting a kiss on your lips letting you taste yourself while sliding his tongue inside your mouth before pulling away.

He placed kisses from your lips down to your neck, over your collarbone, biting both your nipples carefully yet teasingly causing your back to arch and moan in surprise. He moved down to your waist leaving small bites along the tender skin before he ended up at your inner thighs again.

And you were already soaked, shaking and breathing heavy. Your hands bound to the headboard left them useless. Your body stretched out beneath him, at his mercy and you couldn’t do anything but take whatever he had planned.

And Ace? He was not in a hurry, no he was savoring every minute of it.

His lips were still wet with you, his tongue was slowly dragging back up your inner thigh, leaving a trail of heat in it's wake.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he murmured like a prayer, fingers pressing softly to your hips to hold you in place. “Can’t believe I get to see you like this…”

His fingers ghosted over your slick folds again, just enough to make you whimper and before you could process it they were inside you. First one carefully massaging you from the inside then another and even a third. You were gasping and moaning while your hips involuntarily moved upwards grinding against his fingers.

The moment he began moving them you were lost. Moaning and gasping around them and it didn’t take long until he was coaxing another orgasm from you but his fingers they remained where they were and kept moving.

You squirmed and arched your backas good as you could in your restraints, tugging at the ropes with a sob and a scream of his name.

“Ace—please—I need a break please—!”

His eyes snapped up to you, and that cheeky smirk curled his mouth again.

“A break? I thought you wanted this, told me to do with you as I please. You gave me permission and I love making you feel good.” he said with some fake innocence in his voice.

You writhed and he just licked his lips like a hungry wolf.

“Look at you…” His voice was almost reverent but at least he finally stopped moving his fingers and pulled out of you wiping them on your inner thighs. “Tied up, flushed, dripping… shaking for me. I'm really lucky to have you.”

His hand moved back up close to your core but not touching you there, it just caressed the skin between thigh and core, softly, teasingly, as he smirked at you with that damn cute smirk and those damn sweet freckles.

“Don't tell me you’re already close again. Must be driving you crazy, huh?”

You nodded rapidly, moaning, your thighs already trembling again.

“Beg.” he said unusually firm for him.

“I am begging, please, Sir—no more—"

Ace groaned deep in his throat like the sound alone was breaking him. That damned word made him feral.

And so instead of a break he gave you heat.

He raised one hand and just barely ignited it. His fire wrapping around his palm like a kiss. No burn, just warmth. He pressed it gently to your inner thigh, and your body jerked at the sudden rush.

“Feel that?” he whispered. “That’s me. I want every inch of you to remember this heat.”

He moved higher and gods did that heat feel good.

Another teasing flick of his heated finger, then another. Just enough to make you feel the heat, to drive you insane, to torment.

You were sobbing now, shaking under him feeling another orgasm build up again.

“Ace, please, I’m gonna lose it—”

“Good. That’s what I want.” He hummed.

He didn't stop, no instead he pushed his heated finger inside you, curled it just right, before he added another. The sensation was overwhelming, the heat, his fire it was like nothing you ever felt before. His thumb, heated too, began circling your clit driving you insane. It felt like heaven and hell all at once.

"hnng....Ace - Sir - fuck I'm gonna -" you didn't even get to finish the sentence before another orgasm washed over you.

"Such a good babe" Ace mused before slowly pulling his finger out of you pressing it against your lips and letting you clean it off your juices.

You were exhausted but still obeyed and licked and sucked them clean, earning yourself a loving kiss afterwards.

"Doing so good babe" he said with his ever present warm smile. "Still good?" he asked cautiously.

You nodded weakly. "You're killing me - Sir" you breathed and saw the ripple that was sent through him and he was definitely glad you could go on.

Because with that your break was over Ace was already moving down your body again hot fingers tracing over your neck and stopping at your nipples toying with them while his lips descended lower.

He buried his face between your legs again causing you to instinctively try to close them but his hands moved to keep them open for him while his lips tormented your overstimulated core.

But this time he never gave you enough to push you over the edge.

Just heat.

Licks.

Soft murmurs of “Good babe,” “So sweet for me,” and “Not yet.”

And that was driving you even more insane.

"Ace—Sir—need your mouth, your fingers—anything—please, I’ll do anything—need to cum” you begged aching.

But he ignored you.

Time ceased to exist. There was only your body trembling, Ace between your thighs, and the unrelenting ache of need.

“You’re gonna break soon, aren’t you?” he breathed, watching your chest heave, your lips part. “I can feel it. That moment where your mind just snaps and you’ll do anything I say.”

You didn’t answer.

You couldn’t.

You were almost gone.

And Ace?

He was still hungry.

"First you wanted a break and now that I'm giving you one you complain again. You really need to make up your mind babe" he teased into your core his words vibrating against you, that little cheeky bastard.

He pulled back just long enough to watch the desperation flicker in your eyes, the way your chest rose and fell erratically, the way your body trembled beneath his hands. His fingers curled around your bound wrists, gripping them gently but firmly, grounding you.

“Ready, babe?” His voice was rough, full of heat and promise. “Gonna burn you alive.”

You nodded, breath hitching.

He leaned down, lips brushing yours, fire flickering in his gaze. His mouth moved with urgent hunger, crushing kisses, tasting every plea and every broken moan you spilled.

Then his hands travelled back down, tracing slow, deliberate patterns along your body, lighting up every nerve ending like sparks racing through dry wood.

When he touched you again, his fingers slipping inside your folds, around your swollen, aching center it was with the precision of a wildfire, slow, intense, unstoppable.

Your back arched, eyes fluttered shut, breath caught as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. His praise rained down on you like summer heat.

“So perfect,” he rasped. “So fucking beautiful. My babe, my fire. Cum for me.”

You came hard on his fingers. Your world blurred, your body shook, and then, your release crashed over you like a wave of molten heat. You cried out, fingers pulling against the ropes, hips thrusting against his hands, every muscle trembling.

"Doing so good babe" he said soothingly as he slowly pulled his fingers away letting you come down from your high as you watched him lick them clean.

"Fuck love that was intense" you rasped and he just smirked cheekily.

"Think you can do one more? For me?" Ace asked and you tensed.

"No—Ace serisously—I don't thi—" you stammered but got cut off when he buried his head between your legs again his tongue bullying you.

You gripped the ropes that tied you up tighter, knuckles almost white now as you tried to squirm but Ace's hands held you in place.

That's when you feel it......his tongue - so hot, so cruel, so undeniably delicious against your core.

Licking. Twirling. His mouth sucking on your clit. His tongue burying inside you and his nose pressing against your sensitive bud.

"Ace—Sir—I'm gonna—cuhuhm—fuuuck" you screamed out as the orgasm overwhelmed you completely.

Ace held you through it, not letting you go, grounding you with his strength as you fell apart.

By now you were completely wasted, wrecked, ruined and feeling so damn good.

"Good girl" Ace praised you. "I knew I could get another one out of you" he continued almost proud of himself and you wanted to scold him, to yell at him but he looked so cute that you just couldn't.

"Freckled hungry idiot" you rasped chuckling softly as Ace slowly crawled up to you, untying you.

Looking down at your utterly spent form before leaning in kissing you, resting his forehead against yours, voice soft but fierce.

He reached out over to the cloth beside the bed dipped it in the bowl of water and carefully and soothingly began cleaning you up, slowly and ever so gently while planting sweet, loving kisses all over your skin - from the red marks on your wrists down to your inner thighs. Warm hands caressed your skin cherishing you until he stopped and leaned down to place a tender kiss on your lips.

“You’re mine,” he said. “Always.”

[alwayssassydreamer]

Let Me Light A Fire in You

A/N: okay i don't know what to say, well here you go @legends-of-the-grandline you wanted smut and said you didn't care about any plot - so here you go no plot (which was really hard, sorry it's a bit rushed)

Plot: Ace is eager to please you, that's actually it

Warnings: nsfw, oral (receiving), fingering, some slight misuse of Devil Fruit powers, bondage, sir kink, overstim, edging?, not proofread, MDNI ⚠️🔞

Characters: Ace x F!Reader

“You sure about this?”

Ace’s voice was rough, already thick with heat but there was hesitation in it. Sure you had suggested this after he may or may not have told you in a drunkenly moment that he would love to do that but still he was - nervous and also eager (and horny).

He was standing over you with the soft rope in hand, his eyes darker than you’ve ever seen them.

He was hard. Already. From just the thought of this.

Tying you up.

Owning you.

“Say it again,” he growled.

You lifted your arms above your head where you were lying on his bunk, wrists brushing against the pillow.

“Yes I'm sure. I want you to tie me up, Sir.”

His breath caught, just for a second. Then he climbed over you like a storm.

“Fucking hell…”

His fingers weren't practiced, but they were strong. The ropes wrapped around your wrists with a tug, firm and tight enough to remind you who was in control. He pulled your hands a little higher and tied them to the headboard, clumsy but secure.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he said, but his voice was shaking with restraint.

You nodded. “Don't worry it's fine. I want this. I want you, Sir.”

Hearing that qord made him groan. Deep and needy and he kissed you like you’ve lit him on fire from the inside. His hands roamed down your body, trembling with the effort not to tear your clothes off. He kissed your neck, your chest, your stomach, worshipping every inch with his mouth.

The way he moved, the way he cherished you caused you to already be soaked. From just being tied and worshipped by him.

And he hadn’t even touched you yet.

“God, you’re perfect,” he whispered against your skin. “So fucking pretty, tied up like this… Look at you babe, all of this just for me.”

“Say my name.” he urged, his voice thick with want.

“Ace—please—” you moaned

“No, not like that.”

“Ace—Sir—”

He growled. Actually growled and you didn't miss the shiver that ran down his spine from the simple word "Sir".

He hastily tugged at your clothes eager to rip them off you but you made it clear beforehand that if he did you'd get mad at him because they were your favorite clothes - which wasn't true you just wanted to mess with him.

So you watched him with a smirk as he hurried to get you out of your shirt first pulling it over your head as far as he could given that you were alread tied.

Then he eagerly moved down to your pants, fumbling almost clumsily with your belt and when it was finally undone he tore them down along with your underwear leaving you exposed before him.

He took a moment to admire you. "So perfect" he mumbled "And all mine". But admiration was cut short because need was greater than that.

His head dipped between your thighs and before you could brace yourself he already started devouring you.

Tongue hot, wet and greedy.

You cried out, body pulling against the ropes, but they held - and he held you still with his arms pressing down your thighs leaving you open for him as he ate you like he was starving.

You sobbed out his name yet everytime you called him "Sir" he got more and more eager, all while he didn’t let up in the slightest way.

“You wanted this,” he panted between licks. “Wanted me to ruin you - tied up and trembling…”

You were close. So close. Too fast. Too much.

“Ace—Sir—please—I'm gonna—!”

"Cum for me babe" he grinned slurping all over your core fueled by your words.

"Fu-u-uck" you yelled as your orgasm washed over you.

Hard. Delicious.

Ace licked everything you gave him off you before he lifted his head smiling up at licking his lips.

"Oh god that was......fast. Amazing though" you panted smiling.

"That was just the beginning babe. You wanted this remember and I've got some tricks up my sleeve" Ace said planting a kiss on your lips letting you taste yourself while sliding his tongue inside your mouth before pulling away.

He placed kisses from your lips down to your neck, over your collarbone, biting both your nipples carefully yet teasingly causing your back to arch and moan in surprise. He moved down to your waist leaving small bites along the tender skin before he ended up at your inner thighs again.

And you were already soaked, shaking and breathing heavy. Your hands bound to the headboard left them useless. Your body stretched out beneath him, at his mercy and you couldn’t do anything but take whatever he had planned.

And Ace? He was not in a hurry, no he was savoring every minute of it.

His lips were still wet with you, his tongue was slowly dragging back up your inner thigh, leaving a trail of heat in it's wake.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he murmured like a prayer, fingers pressing softly to your hips to hold you in place. “Can’t believe I get to see you like this…”

His fingers ghosted over your slick folds again, just enough to make you whimper and before you could process it they were inside you. First one carefully massaging you from the inside then another and even a third. You were gasping and moaning while your hips involuntarily moved upwards grinding against his fingers.

The moment he began moving them you were lost. Moaning and gasping around them and it didn’t take long until he was coaxing another orgasm from you but his fingers they remained where they were and kept moving.

You squirmed and arched your backas good as you could in your restraints, tugging at the ropes with a sob and a scream of his name.

“Ace—please—I need a break please—!”

His eyes snapped up to you, and that cheeky smirk curled his mouth again.

“A break? I thought you wanted this, told me to do with you as I please. You gave me permission and I love making you feel good.” he said with some fake innocence in his voice.

You writhed and he just licked his lips like a hungry wolf.

“Look at you…” His voice was almost reverent but at least he finally stopped moving his fingers and pulled out of you wiping them on your inner thighs. “Tied up, flushed, dripping… shaking for me. I'm really lucky to have you.”

His hand moved back up close to your core but not touching you there, it just caressed the skin between thigh and core, softly, teasingly, as he smirked at you with that damn cute smirk and those damn sweet freckles.

“Don't tell me you’re already close again. Must be driving you crazy, huh?”

You nodded rapidly, moaning, your thighs already trembling again.

“Beg.” he said unusually firm for him.

“I am begging, please, Sir—no more—"

Ace groaned deep in his throat like the sound alone was breaking him. That damned word made him feral.

And so instead of a break he gave you heat.

He raised one hand and just barely ignited it. His fire wrapping around his palm like a kiss. No burn, just warmth. He pressed it gently to your inner thigh, and your body jerked at the sudden rush.

“Feel that?” he whispered. “That’s me. I want every inch of you to remember this heat.”

He moved higher and gods did that heat feel good.

Another teasing flick of his heated finger, then another. Just enough to make you feel the heat, to drive you insane, to torment.

You were sobbing now, shaking under him feeling another orgasm build up again.

“Ace, please, I’m gonna lose it—”

“Good. That’s what I want.” He hummed.

He didn't stop, no instead he pushed his heated finger inside you, curled it just right, before he added another. The sensation was overwhelming, the heat, his fire it was like nothing you ever felt before. His thumb, heated too, began circling your clit driving you insane. It felt like heaven and hell all at once.

"hnng....Ace - Sir - fuck I'm gonna -" you didn't even get to finish the sentence before another orgasm washed over you.

"Such a good babe" Ace mused before slowly pulling his finger out of you pressing it against your lips and letting you clean it off your juices.

You were exhausted but still obeyed and licked and sucked them clean, earning yourself a loving kiss afterwards.

"Doing so good babe" he said with his ever present warm smile. "Still good?" he asked cautiously.

You nodded weakly. "You're killing me - Sir" you breathed and saw the ripple that was sent through him and he was definitely glad you could go on.

Because with that your break was over Ace was already moving down your body again hot fingers tracing over your neck and stopping at your nipples toying with them while his lips descended lower.

He buried his face between your legs again causing you to instinctively try to close them but his hands moved to keep them open for him while his lips tormented your overstimulated core.

But this time he never gave you enough to push you over the edge.

Just heat.

Licks.

Soft murmurs of “Good babe,” “So sweet for me,” and “Not yet.”

And that was driving you even more insane.

"Ace—Sir—need your mouth, your fingers—anything—please, I’ll do anything—need to cum” you begged aching.

But he ignored you.

Time ceased to exist. There was only your body trembling, Ace between your thighs, and the unrelenting ache of need.

“You’re gonna break soon, aren’t you?” he breathed, watching your chest heave, your lips part. “I can feel it. That moment where your mind just snaps and you’ll do anything I say.”

You didn’t answer.

You couldn’t.

You were almost gone.

And Ace?

He was still hungry.

"First you wanted a break and now that I'm giving you one you complain again. You really need to make up your mind babe" he teased into your core his words vibrating against you, that little cheeky bastard.

He pulled back just long enough to watch the desperation flicker in your eyes, the way your chest rose and fell erratically, the way your body trembled beneath his hands. His fingers curled around your bound wrists, gripping them gently but firmly, grounding you.

“Ready, babe?” His voice was rough, full of heat and promise. “Gonna burn you alive.”

You nodded, breath hitching.

He leaned down, lips brushing yours, fire flickering in his gaze. His mouth moved with urgent hunger, crushing kisses, tasting every plea and every broken moan you spilled.

Then his hands travelled back down, tracing slow, deliberate patterns along your body, lighting up every nerve ending like sparks racing through dry wood.

When he touched you again, his fingers slipping inside your folds, around your swollen, aching center it was with the precision of a wildfire, slow, intense, unstoppable.

Your back arched, eyes fluttered shut, breath caught as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. His praise rained down on you like summer heat.

“So perfect,” he rasped. “So fucking beautiful. My babe, my fire. Cum for me.”

You came hard on his fingers. Your world blurred, your body shook, and then, your release crashed over you like a wave of molten heat. You cried out, fingers pulling against the ropes, hips thrusting against his hands, every muscle trembling.

"Doing so good babe" he said soothingly as he slowly pulled his fingers away letting you come down from your high as you watched him lick them clean.

"Fuck love that was intense" you rasped and he just smirked cheekily.

"Think you can do one more? For me?" Ace asked and you tensed.

"No—Ace serisously—I don't thi—" you stammered but got cut off when he buried his head between your legs again his tongue bullying you.

You gripped the ropes that tied you up tighter, knuckles almost white now as you tried to squirm but Ace's hands held you in place.

That's when you feel it......his tongue - so hot, so cruel, so undeniably delicious against your core.

Licking. Twirling. His mouth sucking on your clit. His tongue burying inside you and his nose pressing against your sensitive bud.

"Ace—Sir—I'm gonna—cuhuhm—fuuuck" you screamed out as the orgasm overwhelmed you completely.

Ace held you through it, not letting you go, grounding you with his strength as you fell apart.

By now you were completely wasted, wrecked, ruined and feeling so damn good.

"Good girl" Ace praised you. "I knew I could get another one out of you" he continued almost proud of himself and you wanted to scold him, to yell at him but he looked so cute that you just couldn't.

"Freckled hungry idiot" you rasped chuckling softly as Ace slowly crawled up to you, untying you.

Looking down at your utterly spent form before leaning in kissing you, resting his forehead against yours, voice soft but fierce.

He reached out over to the cloth beside the bed dipped it in the bowl of water and carefully and soothingly began cleaning you up, slowly and ever so gently while planting sweet, loving kisses all over your skin - from the red marks on your wrists down to your inner thighs. Warm hands caressed your skin cherishing you until he stopped and leaned down to place a tender kiss on your lips.

“You’re mine,” he said. “Always.”

[alwayssassydreamer]

[alwayssassydreamer]

Beckman sfw Headcanon

A/N: An(on) asked for Beckman headcanons with a younger FReader and I'm gonna be honest this was harder than expected because I didn't get the sfw part at the beginning and so I had to adjust everything a little. At some point it got really general sorry I'm really bad at this kind but I'm thinking of doing a one shot with this

Warnings: none, sfw, i feel like i drifted off a little though, these are simply my thoughts so feel free to disagree

Characters: Beckman x FReader (though it can be read as GN)

Beckman’s always calm and collected, but around you, his usual cool demeanor softens just a bit, he’s quietly proud of having someone so sharp and strong by his side.

He will take things slow and not rush things he has had his experience and Beck is someone who enjoys rather than rush things. So if you’re shy he will take that shyness from you layer by layer and if you’re too eager or rushing things he will reign you in

Beckman is (canonically) a ladies man and if you’re younger than him he will use this experience to guide you, teach you.

Despite the age gap, he genuinely listens to your opinions and respects your independence. He admires how you hold your own in conversations and never tries to control you. He will never brush anything you say off or make fun of you but he will “correct” you or explain things in a charming way when you talk complete nonsense.

He’s a bit playful in private moments, teasing you lightly about your youthful energy or the way you see the world, but it’s all affectionate. He will “annoy” you with his dry humour, casually throw jabs your way just to get to see you all flustered and overwhelmed with how you should react to it

Beckman enjoys teaching you little things from his experience, like how to handle a rifle (an excuse to get a little closer and handsy) or explain reports, paperwork or whatsoever but never in a condescending way. It’s always a shared learning experience and he is the most patient and calm person you’ve ever met. Even if you ask him for the 5th time the same thing he will not yell at you or get impatient. And if you get frustrated he will just kiss you to ground you again.

He will also enjoy your youthful curiosity, enthusiasm or child like awe when you see something for the first time and be amused by how energetic you can be (and it doesn’t bother him unlike with Shanks)

When you’re tired or stressed, he’s the silent support, just quietly sitting next to you, offering his presence more than words. Same goes if you ever feel self-conscious then he will reassure you that there is no need for this.

Beckman is a charmer and always knows when and what to say to make you feel cherished, safe or loved.

He likes watching you interact with the crew, especially Shanks, and he’s protective but trusts your ability to navigate the pirate life on your own. Though he sometimes regrets letting you near Shanks because you two are pure chaos and Beck is always left to clean up the messes you made or scold you both.

On rare, calm nights, he might open up about his past and vulnerabilities a little, and you become the one person he feels safe sharing those moments with.

He’s got a soft spot for seeing you dressed up or trying something new, but he rarely says it outright, his gaze and small smirks say enough.

Beckman’s the type to quietly make sure you’re always safe, whether by watching your back during a fight or making sure you have a comfortable place to rest on the ship.

He appreciates your fierce spirit and independence, knowing it’s what makes you his perfect match despite the years between you.

Beckman is always up early and whenever he comes up to wake you, you would groan at him trying to negotiate another “5 minutes” by demanding cuddles.

Speaking of mornings he will always give you a good morning kiss and a goodnight kiss

You won’t get any great public love gestures from him because he just isn’t the type for that so it will be a little more subtle like a whisper in your ear, walking closely beside you his hand occasionally brushing yours, a hand on your lower back when you stand next to each other or making sure whenever you’re on a supply run you are teamed up with him.

You sometimes challenge him to small competitions like who can spot islands first, or drink more without flinching and he lets you win more often than you think. (But never when it comes to using a rifle that’d be too obvious 😅)

He’s taller than you by a lot, so you’ve claimed his side as your personal leaning spot. When you’re tired, you don’t ask, you just press against him and rest your head on his shoulder or side depending how tall you are. He never moves though.

Sometimes after missions when you are tired – while insisting you’re not even though your knees are already wobbly – he just scoops you up in those strong arms and keeps walking, ignoring your protests with a small smirk and a “Sure you could, sweetheart.”

Beckman loves to drawl your name out and watch the hairs on your arms stand and your body shiver especially when he adds a “C’mere”

I think Beckman is the type of man who would carry your favorite snacks in his pockets during missions just to keep you from getting cranky and hand you them with a teasing “knew you’d whine” which would make you pout but take the snack nonetheless and then smirk up at him

Beckman would always keep an eye on you when you’re on the deck messing with the crew or spar with them and every time you would lock eyes he would teasingly look at you – shattering your focus completely

After exhausting days he wouldn’t be the one to hold long speeches he would just hand you your favorite drink settle down next to you and pull you into his side

I kinda feel like Beckman would secretly love it whenever you'd call him as "old man" using it as an excuse to "teach you what this old man is capable of"

Okay that last one is just a thought but I believe he’d let you braid his hair while sitting on the deck and he’d pretend to be annoyed but would never stop you though he would growl – trying to sound like he hated it (but failing) – when Shanks or someone else would point the pretty braid out you’d catch the faint smirk on his lips though.

[alwayssassydreamer]

[alwayssassydreamer]

Beckman sfw Headcanon

A/N: An(on) asked for Beckman headcanons with a younger FReader and I'm gonna be honest this was harder than expected because I didn't get the sfw part at the beginning and so I had to adjust everything a little. At some point it got really general sorry I'm really bad at this kind but I'm thinking of doing a one shot with this

Warnings: none, sfw, i feel like i drifted off a little though, these are simply my thoughts so feel free to disagree

Characters: Beckman x FReader (though it can be read as GN)

Beckman’s always calm and collected, but around you, his usual cool demeanor softens just a bit, he’s quietly proud of having someone so sharp and strong by his side.

He will take things slow and not rush things he has had his experience and Beck is someone who enjoys rather than rush things. So if you’re shy he will take that shyness from you layer by layer and if you’re too eager or rushing things he will reign you in

Beckman is (canonically) a ladies man and if you’re younger than him he will use this experience to guide you, teach you.

Despite the age gap, he genuinely listens to your opinions and respects your independence. He admires how you hold your own in conversations and never tries to control you. He will never brush anything you say off or make fun of you but he will “correct” you or explain things in a charming way when you talk complete nonsense.

He’s a bit playful in private moments, teasing you lightly about your youthful energy or the way you see the world, but it’s all affectionate. He will “annoy” you with his dry humour, casually throw jabs your way just to get to see you all flustered and overwhelmed with how you should react to it

Beckman enjoys teaching you little things from his experience, like how to handle a rifle (an excuse to get a little closer and handsy) or explain reports, paperwork or whatsoever but never in a condescending way. It’s always a shared learning experience and he is the most patient and calm person you’ve ever met. Even if you ask him for the 5th time the same thing he will not yell at you or get impatient. And if you get frustrated he will just kiss you to ground you again.

He will also enjoy your youthful curiosity, enthusiasm or child like awe when you see something for the first time and be amused by how energetic you can be (and it doesn’t bother him unlike with Shanks)

When you’re tired or stressed, he’s the silent support, just quietly sitting next to you, offering his presence more than words. Same goes if you ever feel self-conscious then he will reassure you that there is no need for this.

Beckman is a charmer and always knows when and what to say to make you feel cherished, safe or loved.

He likes watching you interact with the crew, especially Shanks, and he’s protective but trusts your ability to navigate the pirate life on your own. Though he sometimes regrets letting you near Shanks because you two are pure chaos and Beck is always left to clean up the messes you made or scold you both.

On rare, calm nights, he might open up about his past and vulnerabilities a little, and you become the one person he feels safe sharing those moments with.

He’s got a soft spot for seeing you dressed up or trying something new, but he rarely says it outright, his gaze and small smirks say enough.

Beckman’s the type to quietly make sure you’re always safe, whether by watching your back during a fight or making sure you have a comfortable place to rest on the ship.

He appreciates your fierce spirit and independence, knowing it’s what makes you his perfect match despite the years between you.

Beckman is always up early and whenever he comes up to wake you, you would groan at him trying to negotiate another “5 minutes” by demanding cuddles.

Speaking of mornings he will always give you a good morning kiss and a goodnight kiss

You won’t get any great public love gestures from him because he just isn’t the type for that so it will be a little more subtle like a whisper in your ear, walking closely beside you his hand occasionally brushing yours, a hand on your lower back when you stand next to each other or making sure whenever you’re on a supply run you are teamed up with him.

You sometimes challenge him to small competitions like who can spot islands first, or drink more without flinching and he lets you win more often than you think. (But never when it comes to using a rifle that’d be too obvious 😅)

He’s taller than you by a lot, so you’ve claimed his side as your personal leaning spot. When you’re tired, you don’t ask, you just press against him and rest your head on his shoulder or side depending how tall you are. He never moves though.

Sometimes after missions when you are tired – while insisting you’re not even though your knees are already wobbly – he just scoops you up in those strong arms and keeps walking, ignoring your protests with a small smirk and a “Sure you could, sweetheart.”

Beckman loves to drawl your name out and watch the hairs on your arms stand and your body shiver especially when he adds a “C’mere”

I think Beckman is the type of man who would carry your favorite snacks in his pockets during missions just to keep you from getting cranky and hand you them with a teasing “knew you’d whine” which would make you pout but take the snack nonetheless and then smirk up at him

Beckman would always keep an eye on you when you’re on the deck messing with the crew or spar with them and every time you would lock eyes he would teasingly look at you – shattering your focus completely

After exhausting days he wouldn’t be the one to hold long speeches he would just hand you your favorite drink settle down next to you and pull you into his side

I kinda feel like Beckman would secretly love it whenever you'd call him as "old man" using it as an excuse to "teach you what this old man is capable of"

Okay that last one is just a thought but I believe he’d let you braid his hair while sitting on the deck and he’d pretend to be annoyed but would never stop you though he would growl – trying to sound like he hated it (but failing) – when Shanks or someone else would point the pretty braid out you’d catch the faint smirk on his lips though.

[alwayssassydreamer]

The Last Order

A/N: not someone i usually write for but I made an exception for you Lia, @sailing-to-laugh-tale hope you like it (i really tried but i realized that while i love reading rayleigh I'm horrible at writing him ) and happy birthday 🥳

Summary: you're a marine tasked to arrest the dark king rayleigh but things take a different turn and you fall for him. Years later you meet again this time tasked to kill him.

Warnings: sfw, death, angst?, not proofread

Characters: Silvers Rayleigh x GnMarineReader

You had just been promoted to captain and were tasked to help arrest the Roger Pirates. Once you and your team spotted them you moved quickly and much to everyone's surprise and confusion managed to put them into handcuffs - too easily, too suspiciously.

The Roger Pirates in return just laughed. You had Silvers Rayleigh the first mate of Roger himself in front of you and he just.....smiled at you.

As you led him to the ship he started talking to you - smooth, charming and damn, it didn't take long until he had you wrapped around his fingers before you heard Roger laugh loudly and Rayleigh warning you telling you to take a step back.

You barely processed Rayleigh’s warning before a shift in the air made your skin prickle. Behind you, Roger’s booming laughter cut through the air like thunder.

Then - chaos.

Your men were thrown off their feet by a sudden blast of Conqueror’s Haki. The cuffs snapped off like they were paper. You drew your sword, instinct kicking in but Rayleigh didn’t move. He was watching you with something softer than mockery.

"Still time to run, pretty Captain," he said. "Or… stay, and see what it really means to stand against legends."

You tried to fight him, but he didn’t even raise a hand he just talked. Smooth, disarming, like he was inviting you to a dance instead of disarm you. And when he finally did move, it was only to knock your blade from your hand and catch your wrist.

"You’re brave,” he murmured. “I’ll remember that.”

And suddenly he shamelessly leaned in and kissed you - making Roger laugh even harder before they took off and left you standing there. Confused. Overwhelmed. And utterly flustered.

That was the start of a secret and intriguing "game" between you and Rayleigh that soon led to a forbidden love whenever you two crossed paths.

Now years later, Roger was gone and you had been promoted to vice admiral and your task was to finish off what you should have all those years ago - kill the dark king Rayleigh.

Rain poured over Sabaody as you walked through the abandoned grove, soaked to the bone, boots heavy with purpose. You were not a naïve captain anymore, you were a Vice Admiral now. No room for sentiment. No room for mercy.

You found him waiting by the edge of the broken coast, sitting casually on driftwood like he knew you were coming.

He didn't draw a weapon, didn't run.

"You got stronger," he said softly, eyes lifting to meet yours. "And colder. But no less pretty."

You said nothing. You couldn’t. Not yet. The ocean churned behind him like a storm remembering its wrath.

"Does the uniform make it easier?" he asked, standing. "To kill someone you used to love?"

You drew your blade. It hummed in your hand. But your grip trembled.

"You should’ve fought me back then," you managed to say, voice hoarse. "You made it too easy to fall for you."

Rayleigh walked toward you, stopping just short of the sword’s tip. "And you made it too easy to believe you might never point that blade at me."

You lunged. He dodged. The battle began, fast, brutal, more a dance than a duel. Between strikes were words that cut deeper than steel.

Finally, he caught your wrist, holding it tight as he brought your blade to his own throat.

"Go on," he murmured, breath hot against your face. "Finish what you started. But don’t lie to yourself, this was never about justice."

Your lips almost touched from how close he was. Your blade was shaking. And all you could think about was,

"Why didn’t I kill him years ago… when it wouldn’t have hurt so much?"

You just stared at him unsure, hesitating when you heard boots approach from behind - a rear admiral yelling at you ordering you to do it finish him off and stop hesitating. You swallowed hard eyes on Rayleigh who just as years before smiled at you.

"You're a marine, a vice admiral nonetheless. Kill the dark king." The rear admiral yelled at you. And you were torn between duty and love.

You didn’t turn around. You couldn’t. If you looked away from him now, you'd lose what little strength you had left.

The rain seeped into your uniform, mixing with sweat, with guilt. Your sword hand trembled even more at your side.

"Kill him!" the voice behind you roared again. "He’s Rayleigh, dammit!"

But Rayleigh just stood there. Calm. That maddening, aching smile on his lips like he was proud of you. Like this was always meant to happen.

"Why aren’t you fighting me?" You whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.

He stepped forward, slowly, gently and pressed your blade tip against his chest.

"Because I promised myself," he murmured, "I’d never raise a hand against the woman I love."

Your heart cracked at this.

The boots behind you came closer. You could feel the tension in the air, the judgment, the expectation. You were a Vice Admiral. A symbol of justice. Of control. You should’ve done it already.

But you just stared at him. Rain dripping off your hair, sword shaking.

"If you have to kill me, do it knowing I never once regretted kissing you that day." Rayleigh said as he looked at you, really looked at you.

"They'll deem me as a traitor, a shame to the marines, unworthy of the coat." You said softly eyes not once leaving Rayleigh even as the rear admiral behind you got impatient

The marine behind you snarled, stepping closer, his hand brushing the hilt of his own sword. "Then step aside and I’ll do it myself."

Rayleigh’s gaze hardened just a flicker and he shifted slightly, as if he’d intervene only to keep you from witnessing his execution.

But you didn’t move. You didn’t lower your sword either.

"I wore this coat to protect people," you whispered, voice cracking, "not to kill those who never harmed even when they had the chance."

The rear admiral growled, "He’s a pirate! A criminal! And if you can’t see that—"

"I can see it,” you interrupted, eyes still locked with Rayleigh’s. "I see everything. The legend. The crimes. The man who ruined me."

A pause.

"And the one who made me feel loved."

Silence stretched between you.

Finally, Rayleigh smiled again but this time, it’s sad. Resigned. "Then decide, love," he says gently. "Decide what part of yourself you want to live with."

Your sword hand raised. The marine behind you gasped in anticipation.

Rayleigh though didn't flinch.

"I'm sorry" you said voice trembling. "I love you" you whispered softly and Rayleigh just smiled at you understanding.

The world stood still and then a heavy thud as a body fell lifeless to the floor.

"I couldn't kill you" you said turning back to Rayleigh the marine dead on the ground.

Rayleigh didn't move.

For a long, heavy moment, he just stared at you, the rain sliding down his face like tears he’d never admit to.

Then, slowly, he stepped forward.

You didn’t stop him.

He gently took the sword from your hand and tossed it aside, his fingers brushing yours. Warm. Steady. Familiar.

"You just changed everything," he said softly.

You nodded, still trembling. The reality of what you did was crashing over you like the sea behind him, irreversible, unforgivable.

"I’ve doomed myself," you murmured. "They’ll hunt me now."

Rayleigh cupped your face, thumbing away the rain or maybe the tears, you were too proud to shed.

"Then come with me," he said. "This world’s already made its mind up about us. Let’s stop caring what it thinks."

Your breath hitched and for a moment you just stared at him. Before you glanced down at the body behind you, the symbol of everything you once swore to uphold and then back at the man before you, the one thing you couldn’t bring yourself to destroy.

Rayleigh smiled at you the same way he did when you saw him for the very first time, the day he changed you forever, and extended his hand to you.

You took a deep breath before you let your marine coat fall to the ground and then took his hand.

Letting the love that was once just a game, just a fleeting forbidden thing, finally consume you both.

Bonus:

The Vice Admiral who vanished after a mission on Sabaody was spoken about in hushed voices. The one who was supposed to end the Dark King and instead disappeared without a trace, had become a mystery. All that was ever found was the coat that once belonged to them and a dead rear admiral who had been with them on the mission.

Some say the they died in battle. Others whispered about detection, tainted by pirate lies. The marines burned their name from the records, declared them dishonored. A traitor. Forgotten.

But in the shadows of the world, in quiet taverns and drifting ports, there were rumors. Of the dark king and beside him, always at his left, a figure with a sharp gaze and a heavy past.

No one dared approach. Those who did were never the same.

Years later, an old marine told stories to a wide-eyed recruit. He said he once crossed paths with the figure, older now but still commanding, wrapped in a dark coat that bore no symbol, just a hand resting in another’s.

“They smiled at me,” he had say, glass in hand. “Like they didn’t regret a damn thing.”

Some legends rise from glory. Others from betrayal.

But theirs was the kind born from love.

[alwayssassydreamer]

The Last Order

A/N: not someone i usually write for but I made an exception for you Lia, @sailing-to-laugh-tale hope you like it (i really tried but i realized that while i love reading rayleigh I'm horrible at writing him ) and happy birthday 🥳

Summary: you're a marine tasked to arrest the dark king rayleigh but things take a different turn and you fall for him. Years later you meet again this time tasked to kill him.

Warnings: sfw, death, angst?, not proofread

Characters: Silvers Rayleigh x GnMarineReader

You had just been promoted to captain and were tasked to help arrest the Roger Pirates. Once you and your team spotted them you moved quickly and much to everyone's surprise and confusion managed to put them into handcuffs - too easily, too suspiciously.

The Roger Pirates in return just laughed. You had Silvers Rayleigh the first mate of Roger himself in front of you and he just.....smiled at you.

As you led him to the ship he started talking to you - smooth, charming and damn, it didn't take long until he had you wrapped around his fingers before you heard Roger laugh loudly and Rayleigh warning you telling you to take a step back.

You barely processed Rayleigh’s warning before a shift in the air made your skin prickle. Behind you, Roger’s booming laughter cut through the air like thunder.

Then - chaos.

Your men were thrown off their feet by a sudden blast of Conqueror’s Haki. The cuffs snapped off like they were paper. You drew your sword, instinct kicking in but Rayleigh didn’t move. He was watching you with something softer than mockery.

"Still time to run, pretty Captain," he said. "Or… stay, and see what it really means to stand against legends."

You tried to fight him, but he didn’t even raise a hand he just talked. Smooth, disarming, like he was inviting you to a dance instead of disarm you. And when he finally did move, it was only to knock your blade from your hand and catch your wrist.

"You’re brave,” he murmured. “I’ll remember that.”

And suddenly he shamelessly leaned in and kissed you - making Roger laugh even harder before they took off and left you standing there. Confused. Overwhelmed. And utterly flustered.

That was the start of a secret and intriguing "game" between you and Rayleigh that soon led to a forbidden love whenever you two crossed paths.

Now years later, Roger was gone and you had been promoted to vice admiral and your task was to finish off what you should have all those years ago - kill the dark king Rayleigh.

Rain poured over Sabaody as you walked through the abandoned grove, soaked to the bone, boots heavy with purpose. You were not a naïve captain anymore, you were a Vice Admiral now. No room for sentiment. No room for mercy.

You found him waiting by the edge of the broken coast, sitting casually on driftwood like he knew you were coming.

He didn't draw a weapon, didn't run.

"You got stronger," he said softly, eyes lifting to meet yours. "And colder. But no less pretty."

You said nothing. You couldn’t. Not yet. The ocean churned behind him like a storm remembering its wrath.

"Does the uniform make it easier?" he asked, standing. "To kill someone you used to love?"

You drew your blade. It hummed in your hand. But your grip trembled.

"You should’ve fought me back then," you managed to say, voice hoarse. "You made it too easy to fall for you."

Rayleigh walked toward you, stopping just short of the sword’s tip. "And you made it too easy to believe you might never point that blade at me."

You lunged. He dodged. The battle began, fast, brutal, more a dance than a duel. Between strikes were words that cut deeper than steel.

Finally, he caught your wrist, holding it tight as he brought your blade to his own throat.

"Go on," he murmured, breath hot against your face. "Finish what you started. But don’t lie to yourself, this was never about justice."

Your lips almost touched from how close he was. Your blade was shaking. And all you could think about was,

"Why didn’t I kill him years ago… when it wouldn’t have hurt so much?"

You just stared at him unsure, hesitating when you heard boots approach from behind - a rear admiral yelling at you ordering you to do it finish him off and stop hesitating. You swallowed hard eyes on Rayleigh who just as years before smiled at you.

"You're a marine, a vice admiral nonetheless. Kill the dark king." The rear admiral yelled at you. And you were torn between duty and love.

You didn’t turn around. You couldn’t. If you looked away from him now, you'd lose what little strength you had left.

The rain seeped into your uniform, mixing with sweat, with guilt. Your sword hand trembled even more at your side.

"Kill him!" the voice behind you roared again. "He’s Rayleigh, dammit!"

But Rayleigh just stood there. Calm. That maddening, aching smile on his lips like he was proud of you. Like this was always meant to happen.

"Why aren’t you fighting me?" You whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.

He stepped forward, slowly, gently and pressed your blade tip against his chest.

"Because I promised myself," he murmured, "I’d never raise a hand against the woman I love."

Your heart cracked at this.

The boots behind you came closer. You could feel the tension in the air, the judgment, the expectation. You were a Vice Admiral. A symbol of justice. Of control. You should’ve done it already.

But you just stared at him. Rain dripping off your hair, sword shaking.

"If you have to kill me, do it knowing I never once regretted kissing you that day." Rayleigh said as he looked at you, really looked at you.

"They'll deem me as a traitor, a shame to the marines, unworthy of the coat." You said softly eyes not once leaving Rayleigh even as the rear admiral behind you got impatient

The marine behind you snarled, stepping closer, his hand brushing the hilt of his own sword. "Then step aside and I’ll do it myself."

Rayleigh’s gaze hardened just a flicker and he shifted slightly, as if he’d intervene only to keep you from witnessing his execution.

But you didn’t move. You didn’t lower your sword either.

"I wore this coat to protect people," you whispered, voice cracking, "not to kill those who never harmed even when they had the chance."

The rear admiral growled, "He’s a pirate! A criminal! And if you can’t see that—"

"I can see it,” you interrupted, eyes still locked with Rayleigh’s. "I see everything. The legend. The crimes. The man who ruined me."

A pause.

"And the one who made me feel loved."

Silence stretched between you.

Finally, Rayleigh smiled again but this time, it’s sad. Resigned. "Then decide, love," he says gently. "Decide what part of yourself you want to live with."

Your sword hand raised. The marine behind you gasped in anticipation.

Rayleigh though didn't flinch.

"I'm sorry" you said voice trembling. "I love you" you whispered softly and Rayleigh just smiled at you understanding.

The world stood still and then a heavy thud as a body fell lifeless to the floor.

"I couldn't kill you" you said turning back to Rayleigh the marine dead on the ground.

Rayleigh didn't move.

For a long, heavy moment, he just stared at you, the rain sliding down his face like tears he’d never admit to.

Then, slowly, he stepped forward.

You didn’t stop him.

He gently took the sword from your hand and tossed it aside, his fingers brushing yours. Warm. Steady. Familiar.

"You just changed everything," he said softly.

You nodded, still trembling. The reality of what you did was crashing over you like the sea behind him, irreversible, unforgivable.

"I’ve doomed myself," you murmured. "They’ll hunt me now."

Rayleigh cupped your face, thumbing away the rain or maybe the tears, you were too proud to shed.

"Then come with me," he said. "This world’s already made its mind up about us. Let’s stop caring what it thinks."

Your breath hitched and for a moment you just stared at him. Before you glanced down at the body behind you, the symbol of everything you once swore to uphold and then back at the man before you, the one thing you couldn’t bring yourself to destroy.

Rayleigh smiled at you the same way he did when you saw him for the very first time, the day he changed you forever, and extended his hand to you.

You took a deep breath before you let your marine coat fall to the ground and then took his hand.

Letting the love that was once just a game, just a fleeting forbidden thing, finally consume you both.

Bonus:

The Vice Admiral who vanished after a mission on Sabaody was spoken about in hushed voices. The one who was supposed to end the Dark King and instead disappeared without a trace, had become a mystery. All that was ever found was the coat that once belonged to them and a dead rear admiral who had been with them on the mission.

Some say the they died in battle. Others whispered about detection, tainted by pirate lies. The marines burned their name from the records, declared them dishonored. A traitor. Forgotten.

But in the shadows of the world, in quiet taverns and drifting ports, there were rumors. Of the dark king and beside him, always at his left, a figure with a sharp gaze and a heavy past.

No one dared approach. Those who did were never the same.

Years later, an old marine told stories to a wide-eyed recruit. He said he once crossed paths with the figure, older now but still commanding, wrapped in a dark coat that bore no symbol, just a hand resting in another’s.

“They smiled at me,” he had say, glass in hand. “Like they didn’t regret a damn thing.”

Some legends rise from glory. Others from betrayal.

But theirs was the kind born from love.

[alwayssassydreamer]

Updated list

and thinking about closing requests until I got some of it done 🤔

So much Beckman 🤭

Works in Progress

Just a small heads up of what I'm currently working on bc I got a few requests and my own ideas and I just wanted to give you a glimpse of what's to come:

🔥Let Me Light a Fire In You - Ace, nsfw request

🚬 Beckman sfw Relationship headcanon- requests (never done that before but I will try),

🚬 Bet you won't last - Beckman, nsfw request

🚬 Don't Cry Over Me - Beckman, sfw request

🚬 Touch me - Beckman, nsfw RopedInCollab

🩺 Even If It Kills Me - Law, little angsty, sfw ✅️

🐦‍🔥 Broken Wings - modern AU with Marco, yandere vibes, request

🦾 Granny’s Judgment - Kid, a kind of personal experience with my grandma 😅

🐊 untitled - Crocodile, yandere vibe , request

🐊 Please Sir - Crocodile, nsfw RopedInCollab

🩺 Help Me Sleep - Law, sleeping pill request

🚬 untitled - Beckman, waitress request, sfw or nsfw (still debating)

🐦‍🔥 untitled - Marco, Ace-sister request, sfw

Next up I started experimenting a little with some characters I usually don't write for and came up with this:

👓 The Last Order - Rayleigh; sfw, birthday present for @sailing-to-laugh-tale

🐋 Little Shell - Whitebeard, sfw, gift for a friend ✅️

✨️ The Officer & The Admiral - Kizaru request, only got a few notes , sfw

And finally my messed up mind and some personal troubles led to me watching more horror movies again and my brain coming up with the idea of making stories based on them - yes now in May not for Halloween - and this is what you will get:

🌫 Little Lamb - Smoker and some of the Blackbeard Pirates inspired by Wrong Turn

🐊 A Painful Turth - Crocodile inspired by Shutter Island, modern AU

🍩 Mirror, Mirror - Katakuri, insp. Look Away, modern AU ✅

⚔️ Untitled - Zoro inspired by The Exorcist and Possession

🌋 The Hitcher - Sakazuki, inspired by The Hitcher gift for @fleetadmiralsoffice, modern AU

🍺The Strangers - Shanks inspired by The Strangers

[alwayssassydreamer]

Mirror, Mirror

A/N: my experiment at writing "new" chatacters continues the idea for this came from a good friend - so if it sucks it's her fault 😅 it got way longer than planned and i don't know why i did that but yeah...oh and i kind of "ignored" the extreme size difference so Kata is tall but not like super duper giant tall

Speak to me, sing to me, bare your soul to me Step through the mirror, join me inside Run to me, stay with me, till eternity Show me the face that you hide

Plot: you see a man in your mirror who haunts you even in your dreams until one day you feel like he reaches through

Warnings: use of Y/N (once), "horror", Kata is a Demon, i have no idea what to put here it's kinda a gothic romance story maybe, Modern AU

Characters: Demon!Katakuri x GnReader

Your life had been more or less fine, you had a decent job that got the bills paid and more, your apartment was cozy, your car had been running for 3 months without anything breaking or needing to be replaced - which was a fucking miracle - and the only thing that might have been missing was a partner but it was okay for you. You liked to refer to your single life as being "free".

Though deep down you often felt lonely but you always drowned that small traitorous thought with something else.

You stood in your bathroom brushing your teeth, from outside you could here some game show from your tv. Just as you spit out and got back up you saw a man in the mirror.

"The fuck" you shouted jumping and instinctively looking over your shoulder - nothing.

You turned back to stare at the mirror - nothing either.

You cocked a brow and kept staring at the mirror before you sighed.

"Oh god so stupid" you said laughing. You had probably been imagining it - too little sleep and too many "bloody mary" videos on youtube.

You turned off the bathroom light and shuffled into the living room. The game show host on the TV was laughing too hard, like someone had told a joke that wasn’t funny. You grabbed the remote and clicked it off. The sudden silence made your apartment feel hollow.

Still, you shrugged it off. Just tired.

You went to bed.

The next night, it happened again.

You were flossing this time and when you glanced up, he was there again. Only this time, he didn’t vanish.

He was watching you. Big. Still. The kind of man that made you think of ancient statues: too massive, too still, too real. His mouth was hidden under a scarf that rippled as if caught in a breeze you couldn’t feel. His eyes locked with yours like he was staring through the glass and into you.

You blinked.

He didn’t.

The floss slipped from your hands.

You turned around again, nothing, of course, but your hands were trembling now. When you looked back at the mirror, he was gone.

But the surface was fogged up.

You hadn’t taken a hot shower.

And five long indents had appeared in the condensation, dragging slowly downward like the mark of fingers from the other side.

You touched the glass to try to rub the marks away but nothing changed and the moment you touched the glass it felt extraordinary cold. Sure glass was cold but that one was almost too cold.

"Okay you know what who needs mirrors, maybe....yeah I maybe I just put a towel over it." You said to yourself as you reached for the biggest towel you had and drapped it over the mirror even taping it so it couldn't fall off.

"Yeah nothing out of the ordinary a lot of people hide their mirrors" you told yourself trying to convince yourself that you had seen nothing, that there was no man in the mirror that left marks on the glass - from the inside.

You went to bed and decided to sleep with the light and the tv on. Not because you were scared.....no of course not.....ghosts or men living in a mirror weren’t real right? Right?

You groaned as you crawled into bed and pulled the sheets up despite the night being kinda warm. After staying awake for what felt like hours sleep finally overtook you the dream you had though was far from comforting or sweet.

You were standing in your bathroom again.

Only it wasn’t your bathroom.

The walls stretched too tall, the tiles too slick, too dark - like obsidian. The light flickered overhead, casting sharp shadows in impossible directions. The mirror, that mirror, stood bare, the towel gone.

Your feet moved on their own. You approached.

You didn’t want to look, but your body didn’t care.

And there he was again.

But this time, he moved.

He raised a hand, long fingers wrapped in dark fabric, too big for a human man. He pressed it to the glass. You stopped just a breath away, your heart slamming against your ribs like it wanted out.

“Why do you hide me?” a deep voice rumbled, not aloud, but inside your head. It was calm. Curious.

His eye glowed faintly, red in the dimness.

You couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

The glass began to bend, like water, rippling outward from where his hand pressed. His fingers sank into it. Then his wrist. Then his arm. His entire form began to emerge, slow and fluid, like the mirror was birthing him.

“I see you every night,” he whispered. “I wait.”

You backed up. Your heels hit the edge of the tub, you fell, scrambled, your voice caught in your throat as the man stepped fully through the mirror, towering and silent. His scarf fluttered unnaturally despite no breeze. His silhouette was massive. Wrong.

You opened your mouth to scream—

And woke up.

You shot upright in bed, drenched in sweat. Your sheets clung to you, the TV screen frozen on static.

Across the room, the bathroom door stood slightly ajar.

The towel you taped?

Crumpled on the floor.

And the mirror was bare.

After that night you took the mirror down and turned it around and used your phone to do your hair, make up and all that stuff. But it didn’t help.

You began seeing him on every reflecting surface no matter where no matter what and soon your whole apartment was covered in towels, blankets and cardboards or papers. But even that didn't help because then you began hearing his voice.

It started soft.

Barely a whisper, like a thought that wasn’t yours.

When you brushed your teeth: “You looked better yesterday.”

When you washed your hands: “I miss seeing your eyes.”

When you closed the fridge: “Don’t you want to look at me again?”

You started turning off anything reflective - TV screens, phones, even utensils that caught too much light. But he was still there. Sometimes, in the reflection of your pupils in the bathroom selfie camera, you could just make out the shape of his scarf.

You stopped going to work.

You stopped going out altogether.

And then… the voice changed.

It grew clearer. Closer.

“You tried to erase me. Hide me. Why?”

“I was content to watch, but you made me feel ignored.”

“I want to be seen. I want you.”

He was everywhere now. Reflections in windows you passed. In puddles outside. In the shine of your kettle. Sometimes, even in your dreams, he stood at the foot of your bed, never blinking, waiting for you to invite him in.

One night, after days of this torment, you cracked.

You tore the towel off the mirror and screamed, “What the hell do you want from me?!”

Silence.

Then, his figure appeared—clearer than ever. Tall. Sharp. Broad-shouldered. His lone eye glowing beneath his scarf.

And he answered.

“I want freedom.” He tilted his head, like a dog studying a wounded thing. “And I want you.”

You stumbled back. “Freedom? I—I don’t know how to—”

“You already opened the door, little mirror. The moment you looked.”

Your lights flickered.

The mirror began to ripple again.

And his hand reached out, fingers brushing the air just past the glass.

Then—

You woke up.

Except this time… you weren’t in bed.

You were kneeling in front of the mirror. The towel at your feet. Your hand flat against the glass, mirroring his.

He was smiling, the scarf around his neck gone to reveal a scarred mouth and sharp teeth yet it didn't scare you the way it should have.

Suddenly you felt it - his hand it started to wrap around yours. No this couldn't be it was just a dream, no imagination or hallucination. He wasn’t real this wasn’t real.

You couldn’t.....his fingers had fully wrapped around your hand and your hand.....it was no longer on the mirror glass no it was inside the mirror. You tried to pull at it but he tightened his grip.

"No! Don't!" you yelled frantically.

His hand - his real, solid, warm hand - tightened around yours like a vice, yet it didn’t hurt. It was firm, possessive, like he was afraid you’d vanish. The mirror rippled around your wrist, swallowing your skin with a liquid shimmer that defied all logic.

Your breath hitched.

“No! What are you doing? Let go of me!” you shouted, yanking back as panic took full control.

But he didn’t let go.

His eye narrowed slightly, not with malice—but with longing.

“I’ve waited too long to lose you now,” he said, voice velvet-dark and quiet. “You saw me when no one else ever did. You called me forth.”

“I didn’t mean to!” you snapped. “I never wanted this—whatever this is!”

“You wanted to be seen,” he murmured, leaning closer to the barrier. His breath didn’t fog the mirror, it darkened it. “You whispered it every night, even when you didn’t say it aloud. I only answered.”

You shook your head, eyes wide with disbelief as your arm slid further in. You could feel his world, cold air, static and wrong, brushing along your skin. “This isn’t fair—this isn’t real!”

His brow furrowed slightly. That ever-present scarf fluttered, and for a brief moment you saw the barest glimpse of a scar at the corner of his lips—something human beneath all the terror.

“I was not made to be real,” he said, almost sorrowfully. “But you... you changed that.”

Then, softer. “Come with me.”

You froze.

“Come into my world. You won’t be alone. I’ll give you everything. No more hiding. No more being overlooked. You’ll be mine, and I’ll be yours. Forever.”

The grip around your hand loosened slightly not letting go, but giving you a choice.

“Step through,” he whispered. “Or walk away. But if you leave me now, I will never appear to you again. I will vanish from every mirror, every dream, every reflection. I will not haunt you. I will not love you.”

The glass cooled. Still. The silence between your heartbeats stretched.

You looked at him really looked at him and even with his scarf gone and his scarred mouth and sharp teeth you felt less and less scared of him. But could you step through, and moreover what did that mean for you.

"I will not love you" those words they were spoken so real almost painful as if he feared you would decide to walk away. Your heart ached you were torn between fear, curiosity and a strange ache inside you

You stared into his eye, deep, scarlet, endless, and for the first time, you didn’t see a monster.

You saw loneliness.

Eons of it. Years, maybe centuries, spent behind glass, whispering to no one, watching people live lives he could never touch. He didn’t beg. He didn’t demand. He offered choice, even knowing what it might cost him.

The scarf had slipped entirely. His mouth was scarred, his teeth sharp—but his expression wasn’t cruel. It was vulnerable in its own terrible way. He was not human. You knew that. And yet…

You were tired too. Tired of being alone in rooms that echoed. Tired of being seen, but never truly understood.

And that ache in your chest - it pulsed louder now, synchronized with the way he held your hand. Gentle. Waiting.

“I…” you whispered, eyes searching his face, “If I step through… what happens to me?”

His gaze softened, and his fingers caressed the back of your hand like silk.

“You will change,” he said simply. “You will not be what you were. But you will be known. Loved. Kept safe. No more mirrors between us.”

His thumb traced over your knuckles, reverent. “But you’ll never return to your world. You’ll be mine. Entirely.”

You trembled. You should’ve been terrified. But instead, you whispered:

“…And you’ll be mine?”

A pause.

“Forever.”

You swallowed hard, chest tight.

There was the door.

And he was the key.

You took a single step closer.

You took a deep breath your body grazing the mirror and part of you teethering between both worlds.

"I don't even know your name" you said softly so close now that he could have pulled you inside if he wanted to

His expression shifted, barely, a twitch at the corner of his scarred mouth, as if your words struck something deep within him.

The glass between you pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat.

“You’re the first to ask,” he said, voice quieter now, almost reverent. “The others screamed. Cursed. Prayed.”

His hand, still holding yours, rose to your cheek, fingers gliding through the rippling barrier like water. Cold, but not cruel.

“I had no need for a name before you,” he murmured. “But if it is a name you want… then I will give it to you.”

He leaned forward. His lips nearly touched the mirror, nearly touched yours.

“…Katakuri,” he whispered, and though his name sounded strange in your world, it felt right in your bones. Familiar, like a memory that wasn’t yours. “You may call me that. Or anything you wish… if you stay.”

He paused. “And you—what shall I call you little mirror?”

You stood there, suspended between two realities, your breath fogging the mirror that refused to stay cold.

Your name on his tongue. Your hand in his. His world reaching out to swallow you whole.

And still… you had not yet stepped through nor had he forcefully pulled you through.

"Y/N but you can keep calling me little mirror" you answered softly still on the edge between both worlds.

His eye softened at your name but even more as you allowed him to keep calling you "little mirror", like it was something sacred, something he had etch into every surface of his mirrored prison if it meant keeping you close.

“Little mirror it will be,” he repeated, slow and deliberate, tasting it like a vow.

Then he leaned in, his forehead brushing the glass, no, not the glass, your forehead, as if the barrier no longer dared to separate you.

And he whispered, voice like velvet and winter rain.

“I have watched you for so long… even when you didn't know me. I’ve memorized the way you sigh when you’re tired, the way your smile fades just before it fully forms… You think you're invisible in your world, but to me, you’ve always been the only one.”

Your heart clenched, breath caught in your throat.

“I would burn through every reflection, shatter every mirror, just to hold you without glass between us,” he murmured, voice aching. “Let me show you what it means to be wanted. Truly wanted. Not as a fantasy… but as a soul worth worshipping.”

You swayed toward him, the space between you no longer clear where one world ended and the other began.

“Say yes, little mirror,” he breathed. “And be mine.”

And this time… You didn’t step away.

You stepped through.

The moment your whole body had slipped through the mirror behind you seemed to close off and it was clear you weren't getting out of here again. But part of you didn't mind.

Katakuri was even taller than you expected and the mirror world was - strange, wide, a bit cold and most importantly lonely. You looked up at him smiling warmly.

"You've been here all alone? And i always thought i was lonely" you observed heart aching at the thought of him.

Katakuri stood still for a moment, as if stunned by your presence - your real presence - in his world.

No longer a fleeting image. No longer a shadow behind glass.

His crimson eyes met yours, wide and reverent, and he reached out as if afraid you’d vanish if he moved too fast. His hand gently brushed your cheek again, warmer now, the barrier gone and you felt it - the trembling in his fingers, the way he held his breath like this was a dream he didn’t want to wake from.

When you spoke, he lowered his head slightly, shame flickering across his scarred face.

“I have always been alone,” he admitted. “My world was built from echoes and silence. I learned every crack in the glass, every corner of this hollow place… but none of it ever saw me.”

He looked down at you then, really looked. “Until you.”

Your smile warmed him in a way no fire ever could.

“I used to envy the people in your world,” he continued. “They passed by without fear, without knowing how precious their voices were, their warmth, their freedom. I hated them… and pitied myself.”

He stepped closer, and this time his arms wrapped around you with care, massive, protective, gentle. His head rested briefly against yours.

“But now… if I had to wait a thousand years just to hold you once, I’d do it all again.”

Around you, the mirror world shimmered, long halls of silver light, vast dark skies that reflected nothing. You could see distant doors that led nowhere, corridors that twisted, rooms built of frozen memories and phantom reflections. It was lonely. But not anymore.

You nestled into him, whispering softly, “Then I guess we’re not alone anymore.”

Katakuri’s breath hitched, and for a long, quiet moment, the mirror world felt a little warmer.

Time passed differently here. Days bled into nights without ever truly changing, like the mirror world existed just outside the edge of reality, quiet, suspended, timeless.

And yet, somehow… with him, it never felt stagnant.

Weeks, maybe months, passed in that strange, shimmering place. You stopped counting. Katakuri showed you pieces of his world slowly, always watching your reactions with near-painful attentiveness, as though your comfort mattered more than anything else. And it did, to him. You were his world now.

The rooms changed when you touched them, responding to your emotions. Places he had long thought empty began to bloom with warmth, light, and fragments of beauty that hadn’t existed until you arrived. A mirrored garden that shimmered with petals of glass and silver. A quiet, cathedral-like chamber filled with memories of dreams. A bedroom that molded itself to your liking - the softest bedding, faint starlight through curved walls, and a hearth that glowed with gentle, blue fire.

And him.

Katakuri.

Never pushy, never demanding but always there.

Loyal. Fiercely protective. Gentle beyond words. The terrifying, stoic mirror demon… who brewed you tea and sat with you in silence when you missed the hum of real wind. Who let you fall asleep against his massive shoulder, tracing the lines of his scars with your fingertips, while he held you like something fragile and beloved.

He kissed you for the first time under the illusion of a thunderstorm. Rain drumming softly on mirrored rooftops. He cradled your face like he had spent lifetimes wondering how to deserve the feel of you. When his lips touched yours, it wasn’t possessive. It was reverent. Like a vow. Like he'd never take such a gift for granted.

And from that moment, it was no longer a haunting.

It was a love story.

He no longer hid his face from you. Not even his scars. You knew every inch of him. The sadness buried in his silence, the gentle ache in his chest when you laughed at something he didn’t understand but wanted to. He traced poems across your skin at night, in languages forgotten by time. You whispered your fears to him, and he never tried to fix them, only held them with you.

One day it began with music. Soft, ethereal, drifting through the halls like the echo of something that had once been human. You had no idea where it came from. Maybe the world itself had learned how to sing just for the two of you.

You stood near the edge of a silver lake, its surface reflecting not the sky, but you. Dozens of you twirling in still water, your figure gently mirrored in a hundred delicate ripples.

Katakuri stood behind you, watching.

He rarely spoke during these moments. Words weren’t needed. The way his fingers grazed yours, the way his eyes followed your every breath it told you everything. And tonight, there was something in the air. A quiet ache. A yearning.

You turned to him, hand outstretched. “Dance with me.”

His brow lifted faintly, uncertain. “I don’t know how.”

You smiled, stepping close, placing his hand on your waist. “Then let me show you.”

It was clumsy at first. He was so tall, so careful, so aware of every inch of you as though he feared breaking something precious. But then… he let go. Just a little. Let the music move through him. Let you lead.

You laughed softly, breath catching when he finally moved in rhythm with you. His hand pressed at the small of your back, and his other fingers tangled with yours. You swayed beneath the shifting light of the mirrored stars, warm and close, until there was no space left between your bodies.

His forehead pressed to yours. His lips hovered above your own.

“Little mirror…” he whispered, voice low, unsteady. “I’ve never known peace… until you.”

You cupped his cheek. “And I’ve never known love until you.”

His breath hitched. And this time, when he kissed you, it was no longer careful.

It was hungry. Desperate. Worshipful.

He lifted you with ease, your legs curling around his waist as he walked you back into the silver grass, laying you down with such tenderness you could cry. His hands trembled at your hips, scarred mouth tracing along your throat, your collarbone, your heart.

The mirror world shimmered around you, responding to the sacredness of it all.

You were his. And he was yours.

Not a demon.

Not a reflection.

But a man.

And he loved you with every haunted, aching part of his soul.

[alwayssassydreamer]

Mirror, Mirror

A/N: my experiment at writing "new" chatacters continues the idea for this came from a good friend - so if it sucks it's her fault 😅 it got way longer than planned and i don't know why i did that but yeah...oh and i kind of "ignored" the extreme size difference so Kata is tall but not like super duper giant tall

Speak to me, sing to me, bare your soul to me Step through the mirror, join me inside Run to me, stay with me, till eternity Show me the face that you hide

Plot: you see a man in your mirror who haunts you even in your dreams until one day you feel like he reaches through

Warnings: use of Y/N (once), "horror", Kata is a Demon, i have no idea what to put here it's kinda a gothic romance story maybe, Modern AU

Characters: Demon!Katakuri x GnReader

Your life had been more or less fine, you had a decent job that got the bills paid and more, your apartment was cozy, your car had been running for 3 months without anything breaking or needing to be replaced - which was a fucking miracle - and the only thing that might have been missing was a partner but it was okay for you. You liked to refer to your single life as being "free".

Though deep down you often felt lonely but you always drowned that small traitorous thought with something else.

You stood in your bathroom brushing your teeth, from outside you could here some game show from your tv. Just as you spit out and got back up you saw a man in the mirror.

"The fuck" you shouted jumping and instinctively looking over your shoulder - nothing.

You turned back to stare at the mirror - nothing either.

You cocked a brow and kept staring at the mirror before you sighed.

"Oh god so stupid" you said laughing. You had probably been imagining it - too little sleep and too many "bloody mary" videos on youtube.

You turned off the bathroom light and shuffled into the living room. The game show host on the TV was laughing too hard, like someone had told a joke that wasn’t funny. You grabbed the remote and clicked it off. The sudden silence made your apartment feel hollow.

Still, you shrugged it off. Just tired.

You went to bed.

The next night, it happened again.

You were flossing this time and when you glanced up, he was there again. Only this time, he didn’t vanish.

He was watching you. Big. Still. The kind of man that made you think of ancient statues: too massive, too still, too real. His mouth was hidden under a scarf that rippled as if caught in a breeze you couldn’t feel. His eyes locked with yours like he was staring through the glass and into you.

You blinked.

He didn’t.

The floss slipped from your hands.

You turned around again, nothing, of course, but your hands were trembling now. When you looked back at the mirror, he was gone.

But the surface was fogged up.

You hadn’t taken a hot shower.

And five long indents had appeared in the condensation, dragging slowly downward like the mark of fingers from the other side.

You touched the glass to try to rub the marks away but nothing changed and the moment you touched the glass it felt extraordinary cold. Sure glass was cold but that one was almost too cold.

"Okay you know what who needs mirrors, maybe....yeah I maybe I just put a towel over it." You said to yourself as you reached for the biggest towel you had and drapped it over the mirror even taping it so it couldn't fall off.

"Yeah nothing out of the ordinary a lot of people hide their mirrors" you told yourself trying to convince yourself that you had seen nothing, that there was no man in the mirror that left marks on the glass - from the inside.

You went to bed and decided to sleep with the light and the tv on. Not because you were scared.....no of course not.....ghosts or men living in a mirror weren’t real right? Right?

You groaned as you crawled into bed and pulled the sheets up despite the night being kinda warm. After staying awake for what felt like hours sleep finally overtook you the dream you had though was far from comforting or sweet.

You were standing in your bathroom again.

Only it wasn’t your bathroom.

The walls stretched too tall, the tiles too slick, too dark - like obsidian. The light flickered overhead, casting sharp shadows in impossible directions. The mirror, that mirror, stood bare, the towel gone.

Your feet moved on their own. You approached.

You didn’t want to look, but your body didn’t care.

And there he was again.

But this time, he moved.

He raised a hand, long fingers wrapped in dark fabric, too big for a human man. He pressed it to the glass. You stopped just a breath away, your heart slamming against your ribs like it wanted out.

“Why do you hide me?” a deep voice rumbled, not aloud, but inside your head. It was calm. Curious.

His eye glowed faintly, red in the dimness.

You couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

The glass began to bend, like water, rippling outward from where his hand pressed. His fingers sank into it. Then his wrist. Then his arm. His entire form began to emerge, slow and fluid, like the mirror was birthing him.

“I see you every night,” he whispered. “I wait.”

You backed up. Your heels hit the edge of the tub, you fell, scrambled, your voice caught in your throat as the man stepped fully through the mirror, towering and silent. His scarf fluttered unnaturally despite no breeze. His silhouette was massive. Wrong.

You opened your mouth to scream—

And woke up.

You shot upright in bed, drenched in sweat. Your sheets clung to you, the TV screen frozen on static.

Across the room, the bathroom door stood slightly ajar.

The towel you taped?

Crumpled on the floor.

And the mirror was bare.

After that night you took the mirror down and turned it around and used your phone to do your hair, make up and all that stuff. But it didn’t help.

You began seeing him on every reflecting surface no matter where no matter what and soon your whole apartment was covered in towels, blankets and cardboards or papers. But even that didn't help because then you began hearing his voice.

It started soft.

Barely a whisper, like a thought that wasn’t yours.

When you brushed your teeth: “You looked better yesterday.”

When you washed your hands: “I miss seeing your eyes.”

When you closed the fridge: “Don’t you want to look at me again?”

You started turning off anything reflective - TV screens, phones, even utensils that caught too much light. But he was still there. Sometimes, in the reflection of your pupils in the bathroom selfie camera, you could just make out the shape of his scarf.

You stopped going to work.

You stopped going out altogether.

And then… the voice changed.

It grew clearer. Closer.

“You tried to erase me. Hide me. Why?”

“I was content to watch, but you made me feel ignored.”

“I want to be seen. I want you.”

He was everywhere now. Reflections in windows you passed. In puddles outside. In the shine of your kettle. Sometimes, even in your dreams, he stood at the foot of your bed, never blinking, waiting for you to invite him in.

One night, after days of this torment, you cracked.

You tore the towel off the mirror and screamed, “What the hell do you want from me?!”

Silence.

Then, his figure appeared—clearer than ever. Tall. Sharp. Broad-shouldered. His lone eye glowing beneath his scarf.

And he answered.

“I want freedom.” He tilted his head, like a dog studying a wounded thing. “And I want you.”

You stumbled back. “Freedom? I—I don’t know how to—”

“You already opened the door, little mirror. The moment you looked.”

Your lights flickered.

The mirror began to ripple again.

And his hand reached out, fingers brushing the air just past the glass.

Then—

You woke up.

Except this time… you weren’t in bed.

You were kneeling in front of the mirror. The towel at your feet. Your hand flat against the glass, mirroring his.

He was smiling, the scarf around his neck gone to reveal a scarred mouth and sharp teeth yet it didn't scare you the way it should have.

Suddenly you felt it - his hand it started to wrap around yours. No this couldn't be it was just a dream, no imagination or hallucination. He wasn’t real this wasn’t real.

You couldn’t.....his fingers had fully wrapped around your hand and your hand.....it was no longer on the mirror glass no it was inside the mirror. You tried to pull at it but he tightened his grip.

"No! Don't!" you yelled frantically.

His hand - his real, solid, warm hand - tightened around yours like a vice, yet it didn’t hurt. It was firm, possessive, like he was afraid you’d vanish. The mirror rippled around your wrist, swallowing your skin with a liquid shimmer that defied all logic.

Your breath hitched.

“No! What are you doing? Let go of me!” you shouted, yanking back as panic took full control.

But he didn’t let go.

His eye narrowed slightly, not with malice—but with longing.

“I’ve waited too long to lose you now,” he said, voice velvet-dark and quiet. “You saw me when no one else ever did. You called me forth.”

“I didn’t mean to!” you snapped. “I never wanted this—whatever this is!”

“You wanted to be seen,” he murmured, leaning closer to the barrier. His breath didn’t fog the mirror, it darkened it. “You whispered it every night, even when you didn’t say it aloud. I only answered.”

You shook your head, eyes wide with disbelief as your arm slid further in. You could feel his world, cold air, static and wrong, brushing along your skin. “This isn’t fair—this isn’t real!”

His brow furrowed slightly. That ever-present scarf fluttered, and for a brief moment you saw the barest glimpse of a scar at the corner of his lips—something human beneath all the terror.

“I was not made to be real,” he said, almost sorrowfully. “But you... you changed that.”

Then, softer. “Come with me.”

You froze.

“Come into my world. You won’t be alone. I’ll give you everything. No more hiding. No more being overlooked. You’ll be mine, and I’ll be yours. Forever.”

The grip around your hand loosened slightly not letting go, but giving you a choice.

“Step through,” he whispered. “Or walk away. But if you leave me now, I will never appear to you again. I will vanish from every mirror, every dream, every reflection. I will not haunt you. I will not love you.”

The glass cooled. Still. The silence between your heartbeats stretched.

You looked at him really looked at him and even with his scarf gone and his scarred mouth and sharp teeth you felt less and less scared of him. But could you step through, and moreover what did that mean for you.

"I will not love you" those words they were spoken so real almost painful as if he feared you would decide to walk away. Your heart ached you were torn between fear, curiosity and a strange ache inside you

You stared into his eye, deep, scarlet, endless, and for the first time, you didn’t see a monster.

You saw loneliness.

Eons of it. Years, maybe centuries, spent behind glass, whispering to no one, watching people live lives he could never touch. He didn’t beg. He didn’t demand. He offered choice, even knowing what it might cost him.

The scarf had slipped entirely. His mouth was scarred, his teeth sharp—but his expression wasn’t cruel. It was vulnerable in its own terrible way. He was not human. You knew that. And yet…

You were tired too. Tired of being alone in rooms that echoed. Tired of being seen, but never truly understood.

And that ache in your chest - it pulsed louder now, synchronized with the way he held your hand. Gentle. Waiting.

“I…” you whispered, eyes searching his face, “If I step through… what happens to me?”

His gaze softened, and his fingers caressed the back of your hand like silk.

“You will change,” he said simply. “You will not be what you were. But you will be known. Loved. Kept safe. No more mirrors between us.”

His thumb traced over your knuckles, reverent. “But you’ll never return to your world. You’ll be mine. Entirely.”

You trembled. You should’ve been terrified. But instead, you whispered:

“…And you’ll be mine?”

A pause.

“Forever.”

You swallowed hard, chest tight.

There was the door.

And he was the key.

You took a single step closer.

You took a deep breath your body grazing the mirror and part of you teethering between both worlds.

"I don't even know your name" you said softly so close now that he could have pulled you inside if he wanted to

His expression shifted, barely, a twitch at the corner of his scarred mouth, as if your words struck something deep within him.

The glass between you pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat.

“You’re the first to ask,” he said, voice quieter now, almost reverent. “The others screamed. Cursed. Prayed.”

His hand, still holding yours, rose to your cheek, fingers gliding through the rippling barrier like water. Cold, but not cruel.

“I had no need for a name before you,” he murmured. “But if it is a name you want… then I will give it to you.”

He leaned forward. His lips nearly touched the mirror, nearly touched yours.

“…Katakuri,” he whispered, and though his name sounded strange in your world, it felt right in your bones. Familiar, like a memory that wasn’t yours. “You may call me that. Or anything you wish… if you stay.”

He paused. “And you—what shall I call you little mirror?”

You stood there, suspended between two realities, your breath fogging the mirror that refused to stay cold.

Your name on his tongue. Your hand in his. His world reaching out to swallow you whole.

And still… you had not yet stepped through nor had he forcefully pulled you through.

"Y/N but you can keep calling me little mirror" you answered softly still on the edge between both worlds.

His eye softened at your name but even more as you allowed him to keep calling you "little mirror", like it was something sacred, something he had etch into every surface of his mirrored prison if it meant keeping you close.

“Little mirror it will be,” he repeated, slow and deliberate, tasting it like a vow.

Then he leaned in, his forehead brushing the glass, no, not the glass, your forehead, as if the barrier no longer dared to separate you.

And he whispered, voice like velvet and winter rain.

“I have watched you for so long… even when you didn't know me. I’ve memorized the way you sigh when you’re tired, the way your smile fades just before it fully forms… You think you're invisible in your world, but to me, you’ve always been the only one.”

Your heart clenched, breath caught in your throat.

“I would burn through every reflection, shatter every mirror, just to hold you without glass between us,” he murmured, voice aching. “Let me show you what it means to be wanted. Truly wanted. Not as a fantasy… but as a soul worth worshipping.”

You swayed toward him, the space between you no longer clear where one world ended and the other began.

“Say yes, little mirror,” he breathed. “And be mine.”

And this time… You didn’t step away.

You stepped through.

The moment your whole body had slipped through the mirror behind you seemed to close off and it was clear you weren't getting out of here again. But part of you didn't mind.

Katakuri was even taller than you expected and the mirror world was - strange, wide, a bit cold and most importantly lonely. You looked up at him smiling warmly.

"You've been here all alone? And i always thought i was lonely" you observed heart aching at the thought of him.

Katakuri stood still for a moment, as if stunned by your presence - your real presence - in his world.

No longer a fleeting image. No longer a shadow behind glass.

His crimson eyes met yours, wide and reverent, and he reached out as if afraid you’d vanish if he moved too fast. His hand gently brushed your cheek again, warmer now, the barrier gone and you felt it - the trembling in his fingers, the way he held his breath like this was a dream he didn’t want to wake from.

When you spoke, he lowered his head slightly, shame flickering across his scarred face.

“I have always been alone,” he admitted. “My world was built from echoes and silence. I learned every crack in the glass, every corner of this hollow place… but none of it ever saw me.”

He looked down at you then, really looked. “Until you.”

Your smile warmed him in a way no fire ever could.

“I used to envy the people in your world,” he continued. “They passed by without fear, without knowing how precious their voices were, their warmth, their freedom. I hated them… and pitied myself.”

He stepped closer, and this time his arms wrapped around you with care, massive, protective, gentle. His head rested briefly against yours.

“But now… if I had to wait a thousand years just to hold you once, I’d do it all again.”

Around you, the mirror world shimmered, long halls of silver light, vast dark skies that reflected nothing. You could see distant doors that led nowhere, corridors that twisted, rooms built of frozen memories and phantom reflections. It was lonely. But not anymore.

You nestled into him, whispering softly, “Then I guess we’re not alone anymore.”

Katakuri’s breath hitched, and for a long, quiet moment, the mirror world felt a little warmer.

Time passed differently here. Days bled into nights without ever truly changing, like the mirror world existed just outside the edge of reality, quiet, suspended, timeless.

And yet, somehow… with him, it never felt stagnant.

Weeks, maybe months, passed in that strange, shimmering place. You stopped counting. Katakuri showed you pieces of his world slowly, always watching your reactions with near-painful attentiveness, as though your comfort mattered more than anything else. And it did, to him. You were his world now.

The rooms changed when you touched them, responding to your emotions. Places he had long thought empty began to bloom with warmth, light, and fragments of beauty that hadn’t existed until you arrived. A mirrored garden that shimmered with petals of glass and silver. A quiet, cathedral-like chamber filled with memories of dreams. A bedroom that molded itself to your liking - the softest bedding, faint starlight through curved walls, and a hearth that glowed with gentle, blue fire.

And him.

Katakuri.

Never pushy, never demanding but always there.

Loyal. Fiercely protective. Gentle beyond words. The terrifying, stoic mirror demon… who brewed you tea and sat with you in silence when you missed the hum of real wind. Who let you fall asleep against his massive shoulder, tracing the lines of his scars with your fingertips, while he held you like something fragile and beloved.

He kissed you for the first time under the illusion of a thunderstorm. Rain drumming softly on mirrored rooftops. He cradled your face like he had spent lifetimes wondering how to deserve the feel of you. When his lips touched yours, it wasn’t possessive. It was reverent. Like a vow. Like he'd never take such a gift for granted.

And from that moment, it was no longer a haunting.

It was a love story.

He no longer hid his face from you. Not even his scars. You knew every inch of him. The sadness buried in his silence, the gentle ache in his chest when you laughed at something he didn’t understand but wanted to. He traced poems across your skin at night, in languages forgotten by time. You whispered your fears to him, and he never tried to fix them, only held them with you.

One day it began with music. Soft, ethereal, drifting through the halls like the echo of something that had once been human. You had no idea where it came from. Maybe the world itself had learned how to sing just for the two of you.

You stood near the edge of a silver lake, its surface reflecting not the sky, but you. Dozens of you twirling in still water, your figure gently mirrored in a hundred delicate ripples.

Katakuri stood behind you, watching.

He rarely spoke during these moments. Words weren’t needed. The way his fingers grazed yours, the way his eyes followed your every breath it told you everything. And tonight, there was something in the air. A quiet ache. A yearning.

You turned to him, hand outstretched. “Dance with me.”

His brow lifted faintly, uncertain. “I don’t know how.”

You smiled, stepping close, placing his hand on your waist. “Then let me show you.”

It was clumsy at first. He was so tall, so careful, so aware of every inch of you as though he feared breaking something precious. But then… he let go. Just a little. Let the music move through him. Let you lead.

You laughed softly, breath catching when he finally moved in rhythm with you. His hand pressed at the small of your back, and his other fingers tangled with yours. You swayed beneath the shifting light of the mirrored stars, warm and close, until there was no space left between your bodies.

His forehead pressed to yours. His lips hovered above your own.

“Little mirror…” he whispered, voice low, unsteady. “I’ve never known peace… until you.”

You cupped his cheek. “And I’ve never known love until you.”

His breath hitched. And this time, when he kissed you, it was no longer careful.

It was hungry. Desperate. Worshipful.

He lifted you with ease, your legs curling around his waist as he walked you back into the silver grass, laying you down with such tenderness you could cry. His hands trembled at your hips, scarred mouth tracing along your throat, your collarbone, your heart.

The mirror world shimmered around you, responding to the sacredness of it all.

You were his. And he was yours.

Not a demon.

Not a reflection.

But a man.

And he loved you with every haunted, aching part of his soul.

[alwayssassydreamer]

Mimi's "Nightmares"

so since my obession with horror movies resurfaced recently I decided to write a few stories based on some movies - not necessarily the ones I like but doesn't matter.

For now this is what you will get:

¤ 🐊 Crocodile - A Painful Truth insp. by Shutter Island (not really Horror I know)

¤ 🍩 Katakuri - Mirror Mirror inspired by "Look away"

¤ 🌋 Sakazuki - The Hitcher inspired by "the Hitcher"

¤ 🍺 Shanks - The Strangers inspired by "The Strangers"

¤ 💨 Smoker ft. Blackbeard Pirates - Little Lamb insp. by "Wrong Turn"

¤ ⚔️ Zoro - The Thing inside inspired by "The Exorcist" & "Possession"

[alwayssassydreamer]

Fire Up The Night

A/N: usually i don't write for Marco but this was a gift for a friend (I don’t remember if you wanted me to tag you or stay "anonymous" 😅) actually meant to be posted on christmas but i f'd up sorry so here's your belated gift

Plot: during a sparring session with marco things take a heated turn

Warnings: smut, nsfw, p in v (implied), MDNI

Characters: Marco x F!Reader

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over the training deck, the energy between you and Marco shifted.

You could feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins, fueling your movements as you danced around him.

This time, however, there was no holding back. You were done playing it safe; it was time to take your game to the next level.

With a fierce determination, you feigned to the left, then spun around, aiming for his ribs. Marco anticipated the move and sidestepped effortlessly, but you were quick, pivoting to regain your balance and lunging at him again, your sword gleaming in the fading light.

“Not bad,” he admitted, a hint of challenge in his voice. “But you’re going to have to do better than that if you want to catch me.”

With a sharp intake of breath, you charged at him, forcing him to parry your blows with renewed vigor. Each strike was heavier, fueled by the desire to break through his defenses—not just in the sparring match but in the tension that simmered beneath the surface.

You could see it in his eyes—he was enjoying this just as much as you were, relishing the challenge and the way you pushed him to his limits.

In a sudden surge of boldness, you slipped past his guard, maneuvering your body against his.

“Let’s see how well you handle this,” you teased, leaning in closer, your lips nearly brushing against his cheek as you pressed your body against him.

Marco’s breath hitched for a moment, surprise flashing in his eyes, but it quickly morphed into something darker—something primal.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with a challenge.

“I know,” you replied, your tone sultry and daring. “But a little danger makes things more......interesting.”

With that, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down to your level. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you and the heat radiating between your bodies.

Before he could react, you pressed your lips against his with a fiery passion that ignited the air around you. The kiss was bold and demanding, and Marco responded immediately, his hands finding your waist as he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss.

But this time, he was no longer just reacting. He took control, pushing you back against the wooden training post, pinning you there with a heat that left you breathless. His mouth moved against yours with a fierce urgency, a mix of desire and raw power that sent shivers down your spine.

You could feel the warmth of his body against yours, the strength in his grip making you feel both vulnerable and exhilarated. The kiss became more frantic, more desperate, as you lost yourselves in each other, the boundary between rivalry and something deeper blurring with every passing moment.

As you broke away, panting, your foreheads resting against each other, you could see the desire swirling in his eyes—a hunger that matched your own.

“You’re not afraid to get rough, are you?” he asked, his breath mingling with yours, hot and intoxicating.

“Never,” you shot back, a playful challenge lacing your voice. "Are you?”

He grinned, the mischievous glint in his eye making your heart race.

“Oh, I think I can manage.”

Without warning, he grabbed your wrist again, his grip firm as he twisted you around, forcing you to face the post with your hands pinned above your head.

“Let’s see how long you can keep up this little game of yours,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear.

A thrill shot through you as you leaned into the pressure, feeling both restrained and excited.

“You think you can intimidate me?” you taunted, your voice low and sultry. “I’ll show you how resilient I am.”

With a swift movement, Marco released one of your wrists, giving you just enough freedom to turn slightly, your bodies brushing together in a tantalizing way. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the power he exuded sending another wave of desire crashing over you.

“Oh, I’m counting on it,” he said, his voice low and teasing as he gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him again.

“But you’ll need to be careful. You don’t want to get burned.”

With that, he pressed his lips against yours once more, this time with a fierce passion that left no room for doubt. The kiss deepened, turning more demanding, filled with urgency and a wildness that matched the chaos brewing between you

Each kiss sent another wave of excitement through your body, a thrilling mix of pleasure and urgency.

Marco’s lips were like a fever, igniting every nerve ending as he deepened the kiss, pulling you further into this whirlwind of desire.

Then, as if sensing the tension escalating, Marco decided to turn it up a notch.

His hand slid under your shirt, fingers brushing against your skin with a careful yet possessive touch that made your breath hitch. You gasped into his mouth, feeling his warmth seep into your very core.

The sensation of his fingertips exploring your waist was electric, setting your skin alight in a way you’d never experienced before.You moved your hands instinctively, trailing them along his firm chest, feeling the strength of his muscles beneath your fingers. The heat radiating from him only intensified the thrill coursing through your veins.

It was thrilling to explore this side of him, and you relished the way he reacted to your every touch.

“God, you’re intoxicating,” Marco breathed against your lips, his voice laced with a mixture of desire and urgency.

His fingers continued their journey, tracing delicate patterns along your sides, igniting every inch of your skin where he touched.

"Maybe I should be saying the same about you,” you replied, your tone teasing as you leaned in closer, brushing your lips against his neck. The taste of him lingered in your mouth, and the raw desire swirling between you was palpable.

He tightened his grip on you, pulling you even closer as he tilted his head to give you better access. You kissed along the line of his jaw, feeling the hard contours of his body pressed against yours, making it hard to think straight.

The urgency of the moment made your heart race, and as Marco’s hand slid higher under your shirt, you couldn’t help but let out a soft moan. The sound fueled him further, and he turned to press you against the wooden wall again, his body pinning you in a way that made you feel both vulnerable and powerful.

“Are you sure you can handle this?” he asked, a challenge lacing his voice as his gaze locked onto yours. The intensity of his expression sent shivers down your spine, the playful game now teetering on the edge of something much more profound.

“I’ve never backed down from a challenge,” you shot back, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips as you leaned in to kiss him again. This time, the kiss was hungry, filled with a passion that had been building between you from the very start.

As you pulled away momentarily to catch your breath, Marco’s fingers lingered just under your ribs, teasingly brushing against your skin.

“You’re playing with fire, you know,” he warned, his voice low and husky, filled with a mixture of desire and something more protective.

“And I’m not afraid to get burned,” you replied, your confidence surging.

You could see the flicker of approval in his eyes, the way his smile hinted at both amusement and admiration.

“Are you really sure about this?” Marco murmured between kisses, his breath warm against your lips

"I wouldn't be here if I weren't,” you replied, your voice steady despite the racing of your heart. You could feel the warmth pooling in your core, igniting every nerve ending as you surrendered to the moment. With a determined glint in your eyes, you pulled him closer.

Every touch felt electric, and you couldn’t help but arch into him, craving more of the heat he radiated.

“I want to see how far we can take this,” you whispered, your voice a mix of challenge and invitation. There was something intoxicating about the way he looked at you, as if you were the only thing that mattered in that moment.

Marco’s eyes darkened with desire, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Careful what you wish for,” he replied, his tone teasing yet serious.

His hands moved again, this time sliding lower, finding the hem of your shirt and pushing it up, revealing more of your skin. The cool air sent goosebumps racing across your body, heightening your awareness of every sensation.

“I could easily take you right here,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with promise.

The heat in his gaze made your heart race, the idea both thrilling and terrifying. You raised an eyebrow, feeling bold.

“Then what are you waiting for?” you teased, your voice laced with challenge.

The air crackled with tension, and Marco’s expression shifted from playful to serious, the weight of your words sinking in.

“You really want that?” he asked, his tone suddenly more intense.

“Maybe I do,” you replied biting your lip, the adrenaline coursing through you making you feel invincible

His gaze bore into yours, a mixture of desire and something deeper reflected in those vibrant eyes.

“Then let’s make it a night to remember,” he declared, his voice steady with conviction.

He led you to a quiet corner, where the stars twinkled above and the sound of the ocean filled the air. The moonlight spilled over the deck, casting soft shadows that danced around you.

he closed the space between you, capturing your lips again in a kiss that was both hungry and tender. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as you melted into him. It was a dance of passion, an exploration of the uncharted territory between you.

Just as you thought things couldn’t get any more heated, Marco broke the kiss and trailed his lips down your neck, sending waves of sensation rippling through you.

“You feel amazing,” he murmured against your skin, his breath hot and intoxicating. The way he spoke, filled with desire, made your heart race even faster.

“Marco…” you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper as you tilted your head back, granting him better access.

The sensations were overwhelming, and you found yourself surrendering to the pleasure he was invoking within you.

Suddenly, he paused, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes, a smirk playing on his lips.

“I could get used to this,” he teased, his gaze lingering on your flushed cheeks

You began to explore, your hands roaming over his chest and shoulders, feeling the taut muscles as you pushed his shirt off. Marco watched you intently, a mixture of admiration and desire in his gaze as you confidently explored this new dynamic between you.

But he wasn’t about to let you have all the fun. With a swift motion, he turned the tables again, gripping your waist and lifting you effortlessly, placing you against the railing.

Your heart racing as you kissed him again.

As the kiss deepened, you could feel his hands tightening around your waist, fingers digging in just enough to remind you of the strength he possessed. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him even closer as the world around you faded into insignificance.

In a single motion, he lifted your shirt over your head, exposing your skin to the cool night air, contrasting with the heat building between you. You gasped at the sensation, the thrill of vulnerability heightening your desire for him.

He took a moment to admire you, his eyes roaming over your body, drinking in the sight before him.

“You’re breathtaking,” he breathed, his voice thick with admiration.

You felt a rush of heat at his words, a mix of pride and excitement swelling within you.

“Show me how breathtaking I am,” you urged, your voice steady and filled with anticipation.

With that, Marco’s lips descended on you again, exploring every inch of your skin, every curve, every secret that made you who you were. His hands roamed, gripping your waist, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

You could feel the heat building between you, a hunger that was all-consuming. Each kiss, each caress only fueled the fire until you thought you might explode with desire. The night air was thick with tension as you both surrendered to the moment, losing yourselves in the sensations that enveloped you

As you explored each other’s bodies, Marco’s touch was both gentle and commanding, igniting a fire within you that demanded to be fed

The taste of him was intoxicating, a mix of salt from the sea and something uniquely him. The heat of your bodies intertwined, and every kiss ignited sparks of electricity that made your skin tingle.

His hands found their way back to your waist, fingers deftly unbuttoning your pants with a confidence that made your heart race. You gasped as he slipped them down, leaving you vulnerable yet exhilarated.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, his gaze filled with lust.

You felt a thrill run through you at his words, a blend of shyness and confidence as you pulled him closer, pressing your body against his

With a grin, Marco wasted no time in lifting you off the ground, cradling you against him as he found a more comfortable place and position. You wrapped your legs around his waist, holding onto him as he maneuvered you with ease, pressing you against the soft, worn wood of the deck.

He took a moment to admire you again, his eyes roaming hungrily over your exposed skin, the moonlight casting an ethereal glow around you.

“You’re a temptation I never knew I needed,” he said, his voice low and filled with intensity.

The moments became a blur of heat and passion, the sounds of the ocean the only witness to your intimacy. With each caress and kiss, you felt the barrier between you dissolve, leaving nothing but the raw, unfiltered connection that sparked between you.

As the intensity grew, Marco’s kisses traveled down your neck, his warm breath sending shivers through your body. He paused to nibble at your collarbone before moving to your nipples, drawing a gasp from you, and you could feel the tension building within you, a throbbing need that only he could satiate.

“Marco,” you breathed, your voice thick with desire. “Please.”

His eyes locked onto yours, a playful smirk dancing on his lips.

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice teasing.

"I want you" you whined

With a low chuckle, he obliged, his lips finding yours again as he shifted your bodies, positioning you just right. The night air caressed your skin, contrasting the heat radiating from both of you, and every touch, every kiss felt electric.

As the intensity escalated, Marco’s movements became more urgent, and you could feel the tension between you building to a near-breaking point. He kissed you deeply, capturing your breath as his hands began to roam lower, teasing you with tantalizing touches that made your heart race.

With a swift movement, he slipped your panties aside, leaving you completely exposed to his gaze and touch. You gasped at the sensation, the thrill of vulnerability mixing with the hunger burning inside you.

Marco took his time, exploring every inch of you, his fingers skillfully teasing your clit, coaxing soft moans from your lips.

“Marco, please,” you begged, the urgency in your voice growing more pronounced as the waves of pleasure built within you.

He grinned, his eyes dark with desire.

“Patience,” he whispered, leaning down to place soft kisses along your thighs as one hand played with your nipples the other circling your clit driving you to the brink of madness.

You felt yourself getting closer to the edge, your body craving more as he worked his magic, but just as you were about to tumble over the edge, he pulled away, leaving you gasping for breath.

“Marco!” you cried out, frustration lacing your voice.

“Just a little longer,” he teased, his smile infuriatingly charming. “I want you to remember this.”

With that, he captured your lips again, kissing you deeply, his tongue tangling with yours as he brought you back to the heights of ecstasy. As the kiss deepened, you felt him aligning himself against you, his body pressing closer, and you could feel the unmistakable heat of desire radiating from him.

“Are you ready?” he asked, his voice low and filled with promise. You nodded, your heart racing as you felt the world around you disappear once again.

“Yes,” you whispered, the word barely escaping your lips as he positioned himself against you.

With a slow, deliberate movement, he entered you, and you gasped at the sensation, the initial stretch igniting another wave of pleasure that crashed over you.

Your breath coming in shallow gasps as the heat within you grew.

Marco began to move, slowly at first, as if savoring every moment. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, igniting every nerve ending in your body. You could feel the tension building again, the heat rising between you as your bodies moved together in perfect harmony.

The world outside faded completely, leaving only the sound of the ocean and your shared breaths. Each thrust brought you closer to the edge, the intimacy between you deepening with every moment as you let out a loud moan.

Marco responded with a low growl, his pace quickening as he pushed you closer to the edge. The tension built to an unbearable level, and you felt yourself on the brink of madness, a wave of ecstasy threatening to pull you under.

“Marco!” you cried out, your voice rising in pitch as pleasure coursed through you, overwhelming your senses.

With a final thrust, the world exploded around you, and you surrendered to the ecstasy that enveloped you, your body arching against his as you cried out his name, lost in the sensation and not caring if anyone could hear you.

Marco followed soon after, his release washing over him in waves as he pressed his body against yours, their connection deepening as the two of you rode the high together.

In the aftermath, as the waves of pleasure subsided, you found yourself wrapped in Marco’s arms, both of you breathless and entwined. The world felt both endless and timeless, a perfect moment suspended between you.

“Wow,” you breathed, still reeling from the intensity of what had just transpired.

Marco chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his eyes filled with warmth.

“Yeah, I didn’t expect that either.”

You smiled, a mix of satisfaction and mischief dancing in your gaze. “Neither did I. But it was worth it.”

[alwayssassydreamer]

Seriously Anna?!? Now you're getting involved too 🙈🙈😅😅

I'm not sure if I can handle both of you annoying idiots 🤣😘😝

Anna, you just want to "help" so I finish your Marco fic faster you cheeky little bug

I love you both 💖 but you're giving me a headache

Pssst Mimi,

You know I'm a very very patient woman but do you have any idea when "the Hitcher" fic with Sakazuki will be done?

Not trying to be pushy (but we both know that's a lie)

P.S. i hope you know I love you 😘🤭

oh you little idiot, you're lucky I like you otherwise I'd be mad rn and stop writing it at all 😝💖

You patient? 🤣🤣🤣🤣

God Kiraaaaaa 🤦🏻‍♀️ I'm at it I promise but it's harder than expected besides I have some other works I want to finish first - better flow you know 😅. I'm really trying and if you find my inspiration tell it to come home to me.

Maybe some Katakuri this friday will help you with the waiting (it's inspired by that weird movie you suggested, which I didn't really like) 😘😘

[alwayssassydreamer]

Pssst Mimi,

You know I'm a very very patient woman but do you have any idea when "the Hitcher" fic with Sakazuki will be done?

Not trying to be pushy (but we both know that's a lie)

P.S. i hope you know I love you 😘🤭

oh you little idiot, you're lucky I like you otherwise I'd be mad rn and stop writing it at all 😝💖

You patient? 🤣🤣🤣🤣

God Kiraaaaaa 🤦🏻‍♀️ I'm at it I promise but it's harder than expected besides I have some other works I want to finish first - better flow you know 😅. I'm really trying and if you find my inspiration tell it to come home to me.

Maybe some Katakuri this friday will help you with the waiting (it's inspired by that weird movie you suggested, which I didn't really like) 😘😘