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missfrustration · 8 months ago

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to teach a captain - part 3 (luffy x reader 18+ fanfic)

summary: “You want to kiss, too!” He says. His head juts forward, leaning down as he looks up at you. You could only respond with one thing: "So, what if I do?"

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7

rating: 18+ explicit, minors do not interact!!

tags: pwp, nsfw, smut, sexual content, masturbation, kissing, luffy is a curious guy, reader is a member of the straw hat crew, post-time skip, second-hand embarrassment, no spoilers, no use of y/n

A/n: the ao3 crowd waited half a year for me to post this part, so parts after this will chug along slowly, just wanted to warn you ahead of time! hopefully the length of this helps. posted on ao3 here

words: 8.1k (very long, whoops)

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The rest of the night went as follows.

Chopper finally catches up to you after the crew settles into the Sunny. His chipperness never faltered when you tell him you feel better than earlier. Still, he insisted on a late-night check-up. Other than an elevated heartbeat, he gave you a clean bill of health and sent you on your way.

You took a peak in the small bag Robin gave you, largely ignoring Nami’s. You softly grimace, seeing the new bottle of lube lying on top of the other shopping list of things you ask her to get beforehand.

You couldn't go to sleep for the better half of the night. Every time you thought of what transpired only a few hours ago, your breathing started getting heavy, your mind was racing, and you just felt like squealing.

It was half past four when you finally went to sleep. You don’t particularly enjoy sleeping in, but when you woke up this morning and saw the time read past 11 am, you welcomed it…

…Up until you realized why exactly you slept in so late.

After a fresh change of clothes, you reluctantly get on deck. As you feel the smooth wooden planks of the Sunny under your feet, you’re overcome with an increasing perplexion.

The Sunny is still at the dock of Tashini. If we had followed Nami’s schedule she set yesterday, we would’ve left in the early morning. Tashini would’ve been a small dot across the horizon at this point.

You feel an even deeper pit of your stomach spiral when you see no sign of life, which means everybody’s gathered in the kitchen and dining room, currently having lunch. Alongside your crewmates, smack dab in the middle, will be Luffy.

Your heart thumps as you reach the door to the dining room, swinging it open like usual. The Straw Hat crew sits around the table, collectively turning to the archway when they see you. All have a smile on their face and a greeting on their tongue. Sanji, once setting a big platter of shrimp scampi in the middle of the crowded table, frolics over to you and sings your name.

“Ahh angel, you’re awake,” he sings. “Just in time for lunch.”

You greet him like usual, running your eyes over Nakama until your body erupts in butterflies again.

Your eyes meet Luffy’s, feeling your heart crack against your chest at the immediate eye contact. He gives you a toothy grin.

“Good morning!” Luffy says. Before you can stutter out a response, Ussop pipes up.

“Hey, now.” Nami points at you. “You’re not wearing any of the new stuff I gave you.” She gives you a playful frown.

“Ah, sorry about that, it was a long night last night,” You sigh, purposefully trying to divert Luffy’s eyes. “Chopper, said I’m fine at least. Speaking of which, why are we still at dock?”

“Well, I may have a surprise waiting for everybody, I was just waiting for the last person to join us.”

You nod, going to take a seat. Brook tells you to sit down next to him and Chopper, playfully tapping an empty spot at the table. Chopper smiles at you, glad you look better than last night.

“Aaand with that, everybody’s here!” Nami says, paper in hand. “Time to announce the next island and lookout parties for tonight…”

While Nami is talking off the paper she has in her hands, you settle down and join in on digging into the beautiful array of dishes. There’s fluffy white rice, shrimp scampi with a fragrant green sauce, lovely cut fruits that Sanji got from Tashini, and more meat to compliment Luffy’s hungry appetite. White rice is the first thing you go for, feeling the squishy texture as soon as you dig into it.

“That means our next destination will be Dracon. Now,–”

“Dracon?” The word comes out before you have the chance to think about it. You pause, letting your fork drop some rice you just dished out. You try to clean up the mess without anyone noticing.

Nami, including the others, turn to you. “Yes, do you know it?” The navigator asks.

“Oh, ah.” You search your brain, trying to come up with an explanation for your reaction. “I’m not sure, it’s been a while since… working for my home country.”

“From what you’ve told us, you used to be a diplomat before, yes?” Robin asks from across the table. You nod.

“I had to travel a lot, and there are islands I remember going to, but I don’t quite recall visiting Dracon. I’m not sure—at least, I have no memories of the name in terms of my diplomatic work,” You shrug unassuredly.

“I’ll keep note of that,” Nami states, scribbling something down.

Nami moves on to some unrelated housekeeping items, though something feels so familiar that you can’t shrug it off. You feel off about the whole thing, yet not enough to notify the crew.

Now, you feel a pair of eyes on you from across the table. They’re soft in their demeanor, yet concerned in your sudden tenseness. You look over to them, to see Luffy with his head slightly tilted. He’s looking straight back at you while shoving a slab of meat in his mouth. You can’t find it in yourself to look away at his calming face, but all you remember is Luffy panting, pleading with you as his hand found purchase on your shoulder, face so close to yours as he moaned–

“Uhh, excuse me…” Brook nudges your arm, making you snap forward and see Nami leaning over the table, waving her hand in front of your face.

“Hey, are you listening?” She asks.

“Yeah! Yeah, yeah, uh…” You cringe, “what was that again?”

Nami sighs, slapping your head with the rolled-up paper from across the table.

“You and Luffy will be on watch for the first shift tonight. Make sure to wake up Zoro and Sanji for the shift after, okay?”

“R-right, got it.” You nod, hoping the heat from your face isn’t noticeable.

“You got that, Luffy?” Nami turns to Luffy now, chunks of ham disappearing from his hand into his mouth. Luffy manages to say a jumbled yup between food scarfs.

“I can’t believe you paired me up with brow-for-brains, Nami.” Zoro scoffs, digging into his next bite. You all look to Sanji, or well, where he used to be. He’s now standing over Zoro with a menacing figure.

“Shut it, mosshead. Don’t blame Nami for your incompetence.”

“Huh?!”

Ussop makes a point to sigh loudly, muttering something about “some weaklings will never learn,” whatever that means in Ussop-speak.

Before a fight breaks out at the dinner table, Nami gives a threatening scowl that separates the two.

“I will reiterate this as I did with a few of you earlier: As you know, we were meant to set sail this morning to the next island. How ever,” Nami says with a smirk, “I thought it would be a nice change of pace for all of us to go to a theater tonight, and then set sail after.”

“A theater? What’s that, a game?” Zoro raises an eyebrow.

From the other side of the room, Sanji loudly sighs “ Idiot ,” causing the pair to grit their teeth at each other like wild animals. At this point, they are too caught up with each other to pay attention to the conversation.

“I’ve heard of that,” Franky says, “Isn’t that where people perform a story on a stage?”

Robin nods. “It’s not something you see around the sea often.”

“How inspiring,” Brook gleams next to you. “I can’t wait to see what it’s about.”

“I’m guessing we’ll have immunity there?” Jimbei asks.

Nami nods, “With a bit of persuasion, I was able to get a personal booth at the top of the theater with a promise that we’ll be protected as long as we don’t do anything.

“Her ‘persuasion’ was swooning the staff that we ran into while shopping last night.” Robin chimes in, causing Nami to smirk in triumph.

“Hey, a cheap meal and show is a steal.” Nami counters. “I spent a quarter of what I spent on our girl’s new wardrobe on this opportunity, and that’s even with the bargaining I had to do.”

You choke on your glass of water hearing Nami’s words.

“How much did you spend on me?!”

“As long as you wear them, you don’t need to know,” Nami assures you with a sly grin. “Giving you a good sense of fashion is payment enough.”

A guttural groan comes out of you as you shake your head.

“I will, I will. Just— please don’t charge me this time.” You say to Nami, who seems to grant you mercy with a nod.

The crew laughs at your exchange. Ussop is yakking it up to Jinbei and Franky about how he used to be a “connoisseur of theater” in his day. At the end of the table, Luffy waves his hand to flag Sanji.

“More please!”

–

Nami instructed everyone to dress accordingly for the play. To be honest, you didn’t know what to wear until after looking in the clothing bag she gave you. Maybe you shouldn’t have, because you find a dress inside that works almost too well for tonight.

“Perfect, it’s the one I picked,” Nami says when you shimmy it on. She and Robin have already gotten ready, Robin has now gone to join the others on deck.

“You planned this?” You’re surprised as you look at her through the girls’ mirror. You had just finished zipping up the deep rouge silk dress. There was ruching in the bodice that gave your silhouette more form than you’re used to seeing, hem peaking right above your knees.

She makes her way to the dresser where you’re sitting. “You should appreciate a good dress more than once in a while. We always have plenty of days besides celebrations to wear them, after all.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” You think about it. Robin and Nami always outdo you in style, probably because they treat every day like a fashion statement.

“You look sexy in a shirt and pants anyway.” Nami makes a dumb kissy face as you giggle and push her off. She beckons you to the door. “C’mon, everybody’s waiting.”

When you leave the girls’ dorm, you can see everybody has cleaned up rather nicely. Sanji his usual suave attire, Robin and Nami are dressed to the nines, and each of the others has a flare of fashion.

Thump. Thump.

Luffy was no different. He wears a black tie and crisp red dress shirt tucked into belted slacks. The dress shirt was slightly pulled up because of his goofing off with Ussop and Chopper. Chopper is on his head doing birdarms as Luffy runs around the dock. Ussop chimes in with an airy bird call that dies out pretty quickly.

Everybody turns around to you and Nami when she closes the door behind her. You hear an ‘ooooo’ around some of the crew as Ussop wolf-whistles.

“You ladies look so lovely!” Sanji cries.

“Ah, my, you’re a charmer,” Brook says to you, bowing deeply. “It would be such an honor to see your p–” Yup, you’re tuning that out.

“Hah! I think the girls super outdid us again.” Franky laughs as he poses. Jinbei seems to nod in agreement.

You blush at their compliments, seeing Chopper and Luffy now turn to look at you. Luffy is the only one not smiling, mouth agape and it makes you a little sad to see. If you wanted anyone to smile, you would’ve wanted it to be him.

“Our girl finally gets to dress, am I right? Now, I think that’s everyone!” Nami comments to the group, “Let’s head out!”

You arrive at a large building bustling with people under a tall hall archway. The whole inside seems illuminated in a soft yellow glow, with torches decorating the exterior walls. Nami and Robin led the pack to a side door, where a group of staff were waiting for you all. You’re briskly taken to a private entrance. It leads to a modest open room with a wide U-shaped booth that spans to either side of the wall, a large tray full of decadent foods in the middle, and an open window that showcases the lowered, grand stage a hundred feet away.

Everybody seems pleased to sit down and get situated, especially Luffy. He takes the part of the booth closer to the open space, objectively a great view, as the rest of you file in. He digs into the trays of complimentary food before you even think to sit.

You end up sitting next to Zoro and Jinbei on either side of you, pleased to be within arms reach of some fresh fruit on the tray. It doesn’t take long for the stage lights to dim and for the show to start.

It ends up being a fairly detailed story about a knight and his quest to save the heroine, a fellow knight, after they got separated in a battle between countries. There is plenty of humor that the audience and the crew laugh along to. At one point, the knight has to dress as a stuffy aristocrat to pass into the country that captured her and prepare for her execution. Usopp had cheered especially at this as everybody laughed it up. Just before she was scheduled to be beheaded, the hero stepped in and acted as a country nobleman turned war veteran, using his many past achievements of slaying warlocks and beasts to convince the guardsmen to release her. They end up running away on horseback to the country they fought for. Once unsaddled, the heroine finally confronts him.

“You… you came to save me?” The heroine asks, tears laddled in her eyes, almost in disbelief at the hero, her friend’s, bravery. “Why would you do something so risky?”

“I can’t be on the battlefield without you.” The hero falls to the ground to kneel in front of her, taking her hands into his and looking deeply into her eyes. “Won’t you be mine, my knightess?”

“You stupid man. Is that even a question?” She cries out, running into his arms.

They lovingly embrace after the crowd cheers, many of the Straw Hats whooping in celebration. You’re almost thankful you didn’t sit near Franky, as you could practically hear him sob out into a snotty, rather tear-packed mess. You almost feel bad to see Chopper is in his range of fire.

When they finally pull away from each other, the hero steps towards the heroine once more, taking her head in her hands and kissing her passionately. Her arms wrapped around him after a moment of surprise at the gesture, letting him dip her into a warm, lingering hold. Your heart flits at the sight as you join the audience’s cheers and awes.

Amidst the loud celebration, you realize the scene before you feel reminiscent. As the pair kiss on stage, you think of how you were in a similar position with Luffy not long ago, tasting his lips. Though, the fashion you two were in was more… sensual. Your face flares up.

You turn to the other side of the room. Luffy’s shadow is clear in the illumination of theater lights, and you see his figure shift as he raises his arm. He lifts his fingers up to his face in what you could only think of as… a yawn? Maybe boredom?

No. He touches his lips softly, grazing them along the skin before looking down at them with curiosity.

You turn away quickly when you notice his head swivel, spinning around the crew members until he stops at you. A pair of eyes is now settled in your direction as you feel your heart pick up speed. You felt him stare at you between the food platters now littered with bones and stems, before the crew joined the audience in a standing ovation. You tuck yourself away from Luffy’s averting eyes as you stand behind Jinbei, shortly overshadowed by every pair of hands now erupting in applause. You clap extra loud, hooked onto the stage to watch the start of the curtain call. When you finally feel the courage to look amongst the crew, you feel the absence of a few eyes that turn back to the stage.

The crew ends the night as normal with a round of drinks before slowly filing out of the theater and towards the ship. You pace alongside Franky, Robin, and Nami. Franky has his robust arm around Robin, laughing along while Nami and you talk about the wonderful experience. Before your mind filters out the thoughts of earlier, a pair of rubbery arms snaps behind you all before Luffy’s figure catapults to the ship at the dock.

–

Nervous blood bubbles in your veins when you’re on your watch shift.

From the crow's nest at the top of the mast. The saltiness of the ocean breeze isn’t as apparent on the shoreline, but you still smell the tanginess of ocean algae mixed with the earthy scents of the sandy dock.

You’ve been glancing every so often towards the rear of the ship, wondering when you’ll be able to spot Luffy’s black, messy hair walking along the deck under the moonlight. Maybe he’s tucked at the rear, but it’s hard to tell from the top of the mast without craning your head. You’re not brave enough to check in detail at this point.

While you think about your watch shift partner that gets more and more late, you think about what else was said around that dinner table.

Earlier, Nami announced the next stop is Dracon, an island that sounds too familiar to be a coincidence. You’ve been to a lot of places in your life before joining the Strawhats, but it’s been so long since that you're not exactly sure. If your home country had any notable affairs with them, surely you would’ve remembered dealing with it. The question was, was it positive affairs, or would you have trouble soon? You don’t have a good feeling about that name, even if you wish for the former.

“Sorry, I’m late!”

Turning around, you’re met with your smiley captain, his grin upturned ear-to-ear. You look to the moon, and judging from the position, it seems that…

“An hour late, Luffy. And you didn’t change out of those clothes.”

Luffy smiles in response. His tie is undone, hanging around his neck as one side threatens to slip off. The deep red button-up shirt is now completely untucked, hanging loosely past his hips. Some of the top buttons are now undone and loosely shifting under the chilled breeze. His hat is hanging by the string around his neck, resting quietly on his back.

“Sorry.” He doesn't look that sorry.

“It’s fine,” you waved him off, “nothing suspicious happened out here.” Unsurprisingly, not many people dare to approach the infamous Thousand Sunny. Certainly, no one is strong enough to succeed in plunder, anyway.

You look at him again after a moment, heart thumping when you see he’s not moving to climb out of the crow's nest.

“You can go to your lookout now.” When you try to casually say that, your nervous shift practically blows your cover, though you're not sure if it’s noticed.

Luffy hums a noncommittal sound as he thinks about it.

“Nah, I wanna stay.”

“Why?”

He shrugs, pouting his lip a little at the question. “Don’t wanna move.”

“Fine,” You conceded. It wouldn't be the first time Luffy would bend the rules during watch. “Let’s at least watch the nest to cover ground.”

Luffy nods, following your step as you start walking around the edge of the nest by each window, looking out for any activity. Your partner, unsurprisingly, doesn’t care to watch, walking with you as you make small circles in the nest. At one point, Luffy jumps on the seats lined against the walls, matching your pace as he whistles quite brashly. You carry on like that for a while, watching all parts of the horizon and shoreline of Tashini. You’re not surprised to see any signs of life at this time of night.

After a few times of Luffy almost losing his balance, he joins your side, loudly stomping his sandals on the dock as he kicks his feet forward.

“Man, I liked that Theodore a lot!” Luffy says.

Your face scrunches up in confusion, unsure of what exactly he means until you can only deduce one thing.

“You mean… theater?”

“Teeter?”

“ Theater.”

“Oh, tea-eater!”

“Yeah, that.” You couldn't help but giggle at him. “What did you like about it?”

He chuckles, reaching back to the straw hat and swiftly squashing it on top of his black hair.

“Man, it was great! There was so much yummy food to eat, and it was funny when the knight guy made all those silly faces to sneak around!”

His hands are behind his hand as he throws his head back into it, looking wherever as he talks about all the different aspects he likes. Luffy talks about the color of the clothes he liked and the way he laughed at the things that had the audience roaring. You idly listen, agreeing to his list, not paying attention to your watch shift duties anymore.

“I think the girl knight who got captured was kinda stupid. She didn’t scream or kick when she was locked up!” Luffy says.

“Would you have kicked and screamed instead?”

“I would’ve never gotten caught!” Luffy laughs out. “But if I did, I would at least fight back. She could’ve easily saved herself from the guards if she did that!”

“I think her being the helpless lady in need of saving was a part of the story, it made it more dramatic. For the knight, it made saving her more high stakes.” You think out loud.

“If she’s a knight, she’s strong enough to fight back and get out by herself.” He turns to you. “Right?”

That makes sense to you, but what doesn’t is the way Luffy looks at you. He’s looked at you with that cheerful expression thousands of times before, but now you feel a hammer from your heartbeat. His chest muscles barely peek out in the moonlight under that silky button-up, and his tie is so, so close to slipping now.

You reach out before thinking, stepping up to Luffy and catching the end of the tie right before it falls off of his narrow shoulders. You promptly adjust the tie so it's balanced around his neck, no longer threatening to fall off.

“Yeah, you’re right.” You surmise. Honestly, Luffy makes sense. In his scarce moments of clarity, he always speaks with an astounding factuality.

His smile fades as he looks into both of your eyes. The proximity of you two is now very apparent, but you're struggling to find yourself creating distance, struggling to keep your hands off of the edges of his tie.

“I–”

“I want to learn how to kiss!” Luffy announces loudly.

You sucked in a breath that catches in your throat, rather badly, and feel a cough fumble out of your mouth. You try to save face but find yourself awkwardly grasping onto your shirt and in the air for some stability.

“I’m sorry, I’m surprised you know what it’s called,” you say after gaining enough breath.

Luffy gives you a frown and crosses his arms. “I know what kissing is. I’m not dumb.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Sorry, I just…” You kick yourself in your mind. “What brought this up?”

Luffy shrugs, looking out the nest’s windows onto the oceanline. The moonlight illuminates his face crisply through one of the windows, but you can’t tell exactly what he’s thinking.

“Was it the theater?” You ask him.

He looks back at you without moving his head, confirming your suspicions.

“They did what we did. I wanna know how to do that.”

“With… me?” You blink.

“Yup!”

You feel the thrumming of your heart in your veins, beating at his words. “It's pretty simple, you should know based on the first time we did,” you say. You try to stuff down your elation as best as possible, but you know your face is warming just like it did last night.

“I wasn’t paying attention!”

“You should have been! You were there, you know-?!”

“You want to, too!” He says. His head juts forward, leaning down as he looks up at you.

“So, what if I do?” You say, a bit annoyed at his correct assumption. “You already know what to do, plus, we have to be on watch right now!” You gesture with your arms held out open in a reminder of why you’re both here.

“I have Haki!” Luffy says with a childish pout. “If anyone comes I’ll know. I’ll beat them up.”

You frown at him, again seeing how easily your captain can push to get his way. It feels even redundant for you to be on watch if Luffy has enough Observation Haki to detect anything suspicious.

“Just one.” He grumbles. “I just want one.”

You know this feeling. The cocoons that were once hibernating in your stomach have hatched into butterflies, now violently beating against your gut. The small crush you had has transpired into an infatuation. An annoying infatuation. The current predicament you’re in is…

Tricky.

Luffy doesn’t seem to be interested in you like that. You know he just wants a lesson again—for his own purposes. But, can you find it in you to deny him of something that you’ve been thinking about, even before last night?

“Okay,” You sigh, hand waving up and down. “Stand up, then.”

Luffy stands up straight like a spring, smiling brightly at another victory. He is giddy from excitement, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, yet he waits for your next words of wisdom.

“I guess the best way to describe it is… there’s not any set rules for this. To kiss, at least one person is needed, you put your lips together like this,” you make a small pout, “and lean into the object of affection that you want to kiss.”

You demonstrate by taking the back of your hand, looking at Luffy when you pout your lips, and gently placing them on the back of your hand. When you purse your lips and pull away, the contact makes a small smooch noise.

“Here,” you raise the back of your hand you kissed, holding it up to Luffy. “Try it.”

Luffy looks at your hand curiously before he leans in and he pouts his lips like you did. He presses his lips to your hand with the pressure of a feather until he briefly, brashly presses it down and lifts his head. It reminded you of the peck of a bird, almost. In the process, he opens his mouth to make a small smack.

“Like that, got it? …why are you frowning?”

“That’s not what I want,” Luffy says. “I want to kiss like they did.”

Why are you not shocked a hand kiss would be enough.

“To do that, both parties usually lean in for a kiss together. If it’s something that both people want to do, the rest should come naturally.”

“And they did this,” Luffy says, holding his arms and shaking them around to poorly mimic the embrace the two on stage did.

“C’mere.”

You take the ends of his tie, pulling him a step towards you until your bodies are inches away, the straw hat barely grazing the top of your forehead. Luffy lets you easily, watching you with gentle focus. You guide his hands around your middle. You lightly rest your hands on top of his shoulders. You hear a soft swallow.

“When you want, you lean in. Once our lips touch, you close your eyes. Ready?” You ask. He nods.

“Okay, just follow me.”

You lean in halfway, slowly, softly pursuing your lips together as your eyes flutter shut, nervousness bubbling up your body until your head feels light. You let it try and fizzle, try to let the stupid pounding of your heart quiet down in your eardrums, but it’s slowly replaced to wonder when your lips stay untouched by Luffy.

…and, still nothing?

When you open your eyes, Luffy is staring at you, face reddened like a cherry with his mouth agape. His eyes are fixed in awe, flicking between your eyes and lips.

“Sorry, I,” Luffy stutters. “‘S weird. My body… it’s not moving.”

The weird feeling in your stomach has bubbled up again. His flustered cheeks and sheepish smile are quickly blocked from your vision as he mumbles into the back of his hand.

“I don’t know. It’s like, l-like I don’t deserve it, or somethin’. Haha…”

Overcome with affection for the blushing captain, you quickly close the gap. You want to steal away his anxieties, steal away that flustered nervousness you couldn’t bare to see on him. It takes him only a second to process it before his muscles relax against you.

Your lips touch his gently. His hands rest on your waist, his straw hat lifting oh-so-slightly by your forehead as you press into him. Those narrow lips of his feel so plush against yours, perfectly slotted together that you feel light and airy. It lasts just as long as last night’s chaste kiss.

When you slowly pull away with a small smooch noise, his face doesn’t look as cherried, save for a light pink tinge across the apples of his cheeks.

“Cool!” Luffy says, “Let me try!”

“Hold on, I said only once–”

He gains the courage this time to lean wholly, trapping your lips between his thinner ones, feeling the smile etched on his face the whole time. When you pull away, he seems almost back to normal. The lingering worry on his face is gone now.

Smooch!

“Well?”

“It’s good,” Luffy said. “It’s really good. Again. Let’s do it again.”

You both lean in this time, lifting the brim of his straw hat again. His hands naturally graze down to your waist while your hands lay on his chest. His lips aren’t as chapped as you thought they would be. For a guy, they seem very soft. Not in the way that regular skin should be, but more pliable. It squishes against your lips but seems to spring back to form each time you pull back.

Smooch!

“Again.”

You both lean in again, as your hands explore past the partially unbuttoned shirt to his chest. Your suspicions of rubbery skin are confirmed as you feel the softness, malleable, that bounces back when you release the pressure of your fingertips.

Smooch!

“Again.”

After slotting your lips back on his, you swallow down a whine, busying yourself with the feeling of his body against yours, his hands so subtly stroking the small of your spine just above your ass. This time, the straw hat slips off of his head and falls to his back.

A noise of frustration escapes him as he squirms.

“Do what you did last time,” he whines. “Your hands. Like you did yesterday.”

“So you were paying attention, liar.” You grimace. He smiles in response, just like a guilty captain would.

Yet, you have no qualms threading our fingers in his hair, grabbing the tufts together a little too excitedly. You dive back to his mouth to claim his lips. This time, his eyes close in tandem with yours as he slips his hands up and down your torso, kneading the flesh, leaning his body against yours. You absentmindedly feel the fluffy, soft black hair under your fingertips, running your hands through the scalp as Luffy presses his lip to yours.

“I think,” Luffy breaks the kiss, speaking so close his lips are still grazing yours, “you have magic fingers.”

“Yeah?” You giggle for the first since you’ve started kissing him, making his face light up.

You turn his head slightly to give him a small peck on the cheek, he tries to copy you by stretching his head to yours and planting a quick, hard kiss.

“And you smell familiar.” He says softly. So unnaturally soft for the rubber man that it makes your face burn.

“What do I smell like?” You whisper.

“Like a cabin.”

You giggle. “Okay? Any cabin in particular?”

“Makino’s cabin. Back where I grew up.”

“Is that a good thing?”

Luffy thinks about it. After a moment, he gives you a big nod as if sealing the thought in his mind.

“Yes,” he smiles.

“That’s nice of you to say, Luffy.”

He seems to like that compliment. To which he smiles very brightly, now kissing you with a newfound passion that you find attractive.

Okay, like, really fucking hot.

Luffy smushes your face between his palms and plants kisses any place he can think of. From the lids of your eyes to your temples, to the bow of your nose, and all the parts of your cheeks that squish into his lips when he puts extra pressure. Each time he leaves a small, wet smooch behind, a sound he seems captivated by the more he kisses you.

“It’s really good.” He murmurs into your skin.

His arms reach out and grip the back of your neck, almost pulling you closer despite the fact your chest couldn’t press farther. His heavy-handed presence causes you to shuffle a little.

“Luffy…” You sigh out. You really can’t take it without needing more. You pull away from him; something he doesn’t seem happy about, illustrated by the childish pout he has on his face.

“There’s one more type of kiss we can do.” You whisper breathlessly.

“Really, what’s that?” Luffy asks. You brush over his lips, noses lightly connected as you whisper to him.

“Just follow my lead, okay?”

You lean into him once more, but now slowly opening up your mouth to have your tongue slip out. You run it over Luffy’s thin lips before running against the entrance. After a moment, Luffy opens his mouth, tongue slowly peaking out past his lips to meet yours.

You swear there is electricity in the air when it happens because he moans again. Whimpers from the sensation as his hands jolt around the caressed skin.

Your tongues dance together in shared bliss, Luffy shudders against you at the feeling, grabbing your body like he’s surprised by the feeling.

Luffy knew how bad you wanted to do this—he said himself—but, he must not know the extent, really.

Because with every kiss, it just leads to more wanton in you. With every graze of his tongue against yours, feeling the wet muscle that tastes of meat, it makes your breath feel like magma. The noises coming from sucking and tasting his tongue slicks into the dead of night. It’s the only noise ringing in your ears save for the small whimpers and sighs coming from both of you. He despreately brushes his fingers against the sides of your face as his chest tightens, and grows still.

“Breathe through your nose.” You tell him after Luffy starts to turn blue in the face. His breath to hitch, the air exhaled back down your throat hot and wet. He instantly returns to color, now with a revived energy.

You can’t take it, him exploring and prodding the inside of your mouth, him gripping and almost vibrating against you as your upper bodies press together. You wrap your arms over his shoulder, permanently sewing your finger pads with that soft hair.

“Ah…” A small moan comes out of Luffy’s mouth when you tug on his hair to tilt his head up and off of yours. You dive in with false expertise as you give wet kisses on the underside of his jaw, consuming the skin until you’ve covered it all. You move to his neck, making him grunt as you pull his head back to expose it in full. Your tongue slowly sweeps down and over until it lands on his jugular, sweetly sucking it now as he gasps. The breathiness turns into a grunt of what sounds like frustration and he riggles against the feeling.

“I think something’s wrong again,” Luffy says, face knit together. You pull off of him in concern.

“Do you need me to stop–”

“No!” He says, grabbing both sides of your head. His eyes fire wide as he grabs in panic.

In his expression, he shoves you forward so hard you lose your footing, tumbling down with him onto the planks. You both fall into each other before he scrambles on top of you.

“What’s wrong, Luffy?” You say, looking up at him.

“I don’t know,” He says, “But… every time I try to think about it, this happens!” His hand dives in between the two of you before hastily grabbing onto the hem of his shirt and pulling it so high his whole chest shows. When your eyes travel down, you see his problem.

“It’s why I was late! I couldn’t make it go away even when I touched it like you showed me to!”

“Oh.”

A breath catches in your throat as your eyes adjust under the moonlight. With his other hand, he points crudely to a large bulge now prominent under his pants.

“Can you show me what I did wrong?” He breathlessly whispers.

“Y-you did it like last night?” You prop yourself by your arms as he kneels over you.

“Yeah. It didn’t feel as good, though. Used half of some bottle in the kitchen.”

Luffy shuffles a hand into the underside of his pants, rustling into his boxers until he grips the erection trapped inside. You swallow as he takes his dick, quickly slipping it out.

“You sneaked into the pantry?” And he’s still slick from it. The tip of his penis glistens from the lubricant, as well as the pre-cum now leaking from it. You should be upset on Sanji's behalf that he allegedly used half the bottle of what you’d guess is oil from the kitchen, but the view of his dick was too appealing for you to care.

“It kinda hurt without it,” Luffy said. You don’t blame him, mostly thankful for its convenience.

“I can show you then, Luffy,” you whisper, “you can start when you want.”

He beams, bright and contagious, as he grabs onto the head. Without any guidance, he begins to pump himself with an arm propping himself over you. You don’t dare to mention the intimate space he's invading for fear he’ll back off of you. With proximity, you get to see more of his movements, his facial features, and the heat behind his breath.

His face scrunches up in his first initial strokes before easing into a steady rhythm, similar to the brisk pace he kept last night. His hand lingers on the base and shaft, quickly running over the head each time. You could hear the light, moist squelching of oil rubbing against his cock.

“Ah, this is familiar,” Luffy says.

“Better than earlier?”

“I did this earlier, but it didn’t feel this good.”

“You did it the same way?” You ask in confusion.

“I guess.” He shrugs. “I think you help me. This is really fun,” Luffy huffs out.

Luffy’s confession astonishes you. To know you can help him, to know that you and you only have made Luffy experience this, it makes you burn up in lust.

“Shit, Luffy, you sound so good saying that.”

You want to reach up and touch him, graze down his body with wonderful kisses, and feel the heat against each inch of skin. You feel your hand inch in front of you to reach up to his face, but when you lift it, Luffy jerks into himself so sporadically that your fingers are caught in the crossfire.

He’s loud when your hand suddenly fumbles onto his shaft. The feeling of surprise is mutual as you look deeply into one another. His mouth opened, pearly white teeth peeking out.

“Please,” Luffy doesn’t need to say anything else, his fingers hastily interlocking with yours as he lowers them.

“Touch me like this.”

Your face feels on fire, his hands feel steady and laced with yours as you both grasp his shaft together. He whimpers in delight, satisfied with the new warmth of your hand wrapped with his.

It’s so erotic, so sensual, his shaft feels so hot with the slick of oily lubricant and pre-cum meshing in the crevices of both of your fingers now when you start fisting him. He shudders into you in pleasure, head lulling back and forth like a wave, chasing his highs and mellowing into lows. A wrinkle in between his eyebrows shapes off and on when he bucks out. The moistness of his lips attracts you again, how could you deny the savory taste of Luffy in front of you?

Your lips latch onto him, licking up the saliva awaiting from his drooling mouth. Teeth click together from the intensity you both kiss each other. It’s wild, and uncoordinated, you try to follow the beat of his pace while he desperately chases your tongue after each moan.

His mouth in combination with his erection, hand, his fingers squeezing into yours as you stroke him. His dick felt firm in your grip, textured with small veins illuminated by the moon. Every time his hand slipped past his shaft, you would help guide him back as quickly as possible, and every time he would thrust his hips forward to compensate.

“You look so needy like this, but you can’t help it, can you? Such a gorgeous look on your face, so sweet and filthy, hm?” You coo. Something in you adds a little more pressure to his dick stoking down the base. Something that Luffy finds quite enjoyable. It gives you so much gratification to see that lustful, desperate face, that you try something sinful.

“Why don’t you tell me how this feels?” With your one hand interlocked with his, you take your other and dive past Luffy’s leaking erection. You cup his ballsack, feeling the thin skin molding into your hand until you rub up against it.

“Ah!” His head bucks forward into the crook of your shoulder. He’s shaking from the pleasure of it. “So good. So good, I—ahhn!”

You fondle his balls under the breakneck pace of strokes into his cock. The smooth flesh is nothing like his pulsing, steel penis. You inch lower down to the underside of the sack and slowly stroke under until Luffy reduces to nothing but animalistic husks.

“Be as loud as you need to, Luffy.” You rasp. “You can do that for me, can’t you? A good boy like you can do it.”

And just like that, your words seem to coax something in him, because he grips your fingers harder with his, pumping himself into a devious pace, and moaning wildly in between his pants.

Puffs of warmth exhale from his lips, the heat between you two can’t be penetrated by any icy chill of the night air. You feel enveloped in him, in your lust and passion, you can hear his every bit of pleasure, every pump of his dick, and the way the sound of his pants is magnetized with his head tucked to your ear.

My God, he’s drooling in ecstasy down your neck. You feel the wetness trail like sweat down your flesh.

“Nnn, ahh, ‘s coming out. I can feel it.” Luffy whimpers into your skin. His voice sounds rasped from his panting

“Why don’t you cum then, my captain?” You take the liberty to nip on the skin of his neck. It’s something small, but one that causes his whole body to jolt.

“Mmmph!”

That look. He’s so close to release that he’s completely hunched over you. There’s barely any space for you to stroke his pulsing dick, but you continue regardless. His voice is the only thing you can hear on the ear he’s crushed up against.

But you don’t get that liberty of him cumming onto you again, however. In your other ear, you hear something alert enough for you to slow your strokes down.

You hear a faint shout from the deck of the Sunny as a familiar voice calls out the two of your names. Your body freezes.

“Luffy, shit, Luffy!”

“Hm?” Dazed and sublime, Luffy has half a mind to hear the panic in your tone.

“Oiiii!” Says the voice, one that sounds so quiet, but it’s loud enough for you to tell who it is.

With a push you’ll soon regret, you shove him off of you onto his butt, scurrying to sit up.

“It’s the next shift!”

“Ah… so?”

“Get up,” You squeak, pulling Luffy's pants back up, much to his dismay. “Put it away!”

“What?! Why?”

“I told you why yesterday, just do it!” You zip his pants but up against the now trapped erection, and Luffy groans out.

Both of you try to get up at once—Luffy in agitation, you in alarm that his button-up is falling down his shoulder and he looked fucked out of his mind—but you bash your heads together. The clunk is so solid that you double down on the floor. You yelp out in pain, looking up from the corner of your eye to see Luffy’s standing up just fine.

Of course. Of course he doesn’t feel how hard you collided into each other, the fucking rubber man.

Quitely, you hear someone.

“Oiiii, you never woke us up. Is everything okay?” That voice gets louder with each rung of the ladder of the crow’s nest until the latch is lifted.

Coming from the opening is a mop of blonde hair followed by a mossy green. You freeze, whipping your head to see the state of Luffy. His face is slate, like nothing was happening, and…

What the fuck?

There’s no more bulge in his pants.

You can’t think of it too hard, with the throbbing pain seeping into your head as your adrenaline creeps down.

“Oi,” Zoro gets up, looking back and forth between you two. “The hell happened here.”

“Ah! My angel, you’re hurt?” Sanji yelped in alarm, “You had me so worried. We were calling out for some time and didn’t hear anything back. And you’re sweating bad…” He kneels to your form glued to the ground, pointing to your neck ladened with Luffy’s drool, looking back at Luffy who was awkwardly standing close with no motion. “Hey, shithead, the hell did you do to her?”

“Nothin’, she was just showing me something.”

You don’t know if those two believe him. With the horrid poker face Luffy typically has in a lie, you can’t bare to look up and confirm it. You rub your head on the ground.

“I just… bumped my head.” You groan.

He looks back at Luffy, then at you.

“Oh, dear, please go back down and sleep as much as you need, me and moss shit can take care of the rest, okay?”

“Who the hell are you calling moss shit, kitchen boy?”

Yeah, you’re getting the hell out of here before dumbbells are thrown.

Once you get the bearings to look up from the pain, you see the lemon-lime pirates gnawing their teeth at each other. From a glimpse, a straw hat dips down below the crow’s nest latch and disappears.

You feel a small force compelling you to chase that hat, the man attached to it, that you ignore the masculine catfight beside you and follow it.

You climb down the mast to the deck of the Sunny and hear your feet knock onto the deck.

You see Luffy leaning against the dock next to the boys’ dorm, looking out for a moment before latching his eyes on you. You’re glad to see him. He doesn’t seem to be frustrated at the abrupt stop you put things.

“Hey,” Luffy calls, followed by your name.

“Hey,” you softly smile back at him. Maybe it was a little awkward. Maybe you’re distracted by the way the collar of his unbuttoned shirt is still hanging off of one shoulder, or that the shirt tie that laid around his shoulders is gone at this point. You hope it didn’t look weird to the two who came in.

Luffy rustles with the top of his straw hat. The ties of it dangle with the wind of the night.

“Thanks for that! It means a lot.” He says.

And just like that, he retreats to the boys' dorm, leaving you alone again as you make your way to your own bed. You snuggle back in bed with the girls, harboring a hardship that bounced in your head:

Damn. There’s always Nakama somewhere to walk in on you.

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ao3 | tiktok | kofi | masterlist

#x reader #fanfic #fem reader #reader insert #ao3 fanfic #my fanfic #one piece #luffy #luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy #one piece luffy #straw hat luffy #monkey d luffy #monkey d. luffy x you #monkey d. luffy x reader #luffy one piece #multi part fic

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doofazoid · 7 months ago

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Trolls Reanimated is Out!

It's finally here! Me and lots of other amazing artists got to reanimate a deleted scene from Trolls 3, here's one of my parts!

⭐️ Check out the full collab! Great stuff!!!

youtube

#you can see me second part in the full vid :3 #it was lots of fun!!!#trolls #fanart #art #trolls fanart #trolls band together #dreamworks trolls #digital art #reanimated project #multi animator project #animation #Youtube

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nitefise-art · 8 months ago

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It will last forever Eternally x

First | Prev | Part 8/8 | Bonus

#disco elysium #harry du bois #kim kitsuragi #jean vicquemare #nitefise-art #disco elysium fanart #that's all folks #please listen to the song alongside this #i hope you enjoyed the ride #this was never meant to be a multi-part comic #but here we are #thanks for following #tw: smoking

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caffeinewitchcraft · 1 year ago

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The Hero and Hope (Part 2/5)

(part 1) (part 3)

The next time you go hunting, the Bahrs go with you.

“It’s really fine,” you protest. It’s early enough in the morning that the air carries a bite. With any luck, they’ll think the redness in your cheeks comes from the chill rather than embarrassment. “I’m not even going far in. It’s Hera’s birthday coming up and she likes squirrel…”

“You’re going to catch a squirrel without a blade?” Mr. Bahr – Ivan – asks. He tightens the strap on Mrs. Bahr’s back, making sure the quiver of arrows is snug along her spine. He pats her shoulder when he finishes and beams at you. “Are you very fast?”

Yes, you are. You’ve noticed that you’re even faster lately as your 15th birthday marches closer and closer. You purse your lips. “I set traps.”

“Don’t mind him, Isla,” Mrs. Bahr -Marie - says. She fondly shoves Ivan off the porch of the orphanage so she can get down. “He’s always joking.”

“What sort of traps?” Ivan asks. He runs a critical eye over your coat and pack. “Will that be warm enough?”

You’re not sure if your coat is warm enough for the weather or not. Another rising power: you’re nearly impervious to the cold. You shrug. “I’ll be fine. And just simple snares and stuff.”

“We can’t wait to see,” Ivan declares. He gestures towards the road. “Lead the way.”

You bite your lip. It’s clear that they knew you were going hunting today by their garb. Both are in sturdy, worn leather with swords on their hips and bows along their backs. They probably heard from Director Sarah and came specifically to make sure you kept your promise not to hunt alone. But… “The other kids will be sorry they missed you.”

“We’ll see them when we return victorious with birthday squirrels,” Ivan says.

“What a sentence,” Marie says dryly.

You aren’t going to convince them to let you go alone. You silently lead the way towards the orchard. Or, rather, as silently as you can. Ivan talks the whole time, asking questions about the apple trees and pointing to ducks flying overhead. You answer the questions you know the answer to and hum whenever you don’t. You wish you knew more about the vegetation, but the most you can tell Ivan is whether or not something is poisonous.

“Those ones,” you say, nodding to the low, circular leaves Mr. Bahr is pointing to, “are tricky. The real ones taste kind of sweet. The other kind that looks like that makes your stomach cramp for three days straight.”

“How can you tell the difference?” Ivan asks.

You shrug. “You can’t. I just tell the younger kids to bring it to me before eating it. Usually, I trade it for something actually edible.”

Marie, trailing behind you both, makes a noise of interest. “Usually?”

You feel your ears go hot. “Sometimes I’ll try it for them just to see if they can eat it. I’ve had enough of the bad one that it doesn’t affect me so much.”

“You try it?” Marie’s voice is sharp. “Isla, there has to be a better way.”

“Not really,” you say. You scratch the back of your head and quicken your step. You’re almost to the tree line of the woods. “The kids like sweet things. If I didn’t give in occasionally, they’d try it themselves. At least this way they check in with me first.”

“I still don’t think—”

“Sounds like Marie and I’ll be bringing some sweets along with us next time,” Ivan interrupts cheerfully. He points past the last apple tree about a dozen feet ahead. “Looks like the path ends there?”

“There’s an animal track about ten feet into the woods,” you say. You’re uncomfortable with Marie’s reaction. You know it’s not smart to eat poisonous plants, but what else were you supposed to do? Your worst fear is that the kids will one day get hungry enough to eat them without caring about the pain. Your shoulders round. “We’ll need to be quiet once we’re there.”

“I’m the best at being quiet,” Ivan says. He elbows Marie. “Right, Marie?”

“Right,” Marie says. Her voice is still a little strained, but you can tell she’s trying to hide it. “That’s why I married you.”

“That’s a lie,” Ivan says. He stage-whispers to you, “She married me for my amazingly dashing good looks.”

Marie huffs a laugh but doesn’t say anything else. You’ve entered the forest.

You were worried on the way that you’d need to tell Ivan that he needs to be quiet in the forest. You needn’t have been concerned. Both adults are silent and walk with quiet steps, their dark eyes alert on their surroundings. They move through the undergrowth gracefully, their years of experience showing in every step. You try to copy Marie’s soft footfalls as best you can and are pleased when your steps get a little quieter.

The Bahrs watch as you pick places for your traps. Ivan silently points to one of your knots, eyebrow raised. Guessing what he’s asking, you undo the knot and then redo it slowly. He nods in satisfaction and then gestures for you to give him the rope. Curiously, you do. Ivan completes the same knot, fingers steady through each step. When he’s done, he presents it to you proudly as if to say, See? I did it!

It makes you do something you very rarely do in the woods. You smile.

After setting the traps you take the Bahrs to your favorite resting spot. The clearing lies just by the edge of the shallow part of the river. About a mile downstream the banks widen and the North River joins this one, making it a dangerous place of rapids. Here, however, the water moves slowly and is shallow enough to be warmed by the sun.

Finally, you speak. “Shouldn’t be too long. Maybe an hour or two and then we can go check on them.”

“Is this where you found the horned rabbit?” Marie asks. You sit on a large, flat rock by the river, but she stays standing. Her eyes carefully scan the perimeter of the clearing.

“Not quite. That was near the hills.” You point. “Fifteen minutes that way.”

“That’s close,” Ivan says. He frowns, concerned. “Was that the first demon you’ve seen here?”

“No.” When the Bahrs turn to you in alarm, you shrug. “Not all the time, but demons come here. They’re usually not interested in me though.”

“But the horned rabbit was?” Marie asks.

Interested is an understatement. You’re not an idiot. You know that demons are dangerous. That’s why you usually avoid them when you spot them. Normally they’re content to let you pass by, but not the horned rabbit. It followed you nearly all the way back to the orchard before you realized you needed to do something before it attacked you. “Yeah.”

“What other types of demons do you see here?” Ivan asks. His voice is light, but he’s looking at you with a very serious expression. “Maybe howling bats?”

“I hear them sometimes,” you say, “but I don’t stick around after dark.” Ivan and Marie exchange dark looks. You fidget on the rock. “What?”

“This is protected land, Isla,” Marie says. She purses her lips. “No demons should be south of those hills.”

“What other types have you seen?” Ivan asks again. He comes to squat by you so he can look you in the eyes. “And when?”

“Just horned rabbits.”

“Are you sure?” Marie asks. She runs a hand over her hair, slicking back the fly aways. “Horned rabbits aren’t usually sighted alone.”

You hesitate. It’s true that the horned rabbits are the only demons you’ve seen, but… “There have been some signs lately, but I don’t know if they’re demons.”

Ivan’s eyes sharpen. “What?”

“Wolves,” you say. Both Bahrs stiffen, hands going to their swords. You speak quickly. “But I’ve never seen them! They might be regular wolves. I found the tracks at the base of the hill, and some bones, but they were a week old probably.”

“We’ll need to ask the Lord to investigate,” Marie tells Ivan. She looks deeply unhappy. “The patrol doesn’t cover this far south.”

“An oversight,” Ivan says grimly. He reaches out absently and ruffles your hair. It startles you, but it feels nice. Ivan makes an effort to smile at you. “Good eyes, Isla. Is there anything else you’ve noticed changing in the forest lately? Even something not demon related?”

Something funny is happening in your chest. Good eyes, Isla. You wrack your brain for anything else. “I haven’t seen any other tracks or anything and there’s only been four or five horned rabbits this season.”

Marie makes a small noise in her throat. When you turn to look at her, she hides whatever expression she’d been making. “That’s a lot. Did you need to use your sharp stick on all of them?”

Ivan startles. “Sharp stick?”

You rub the back of you neck. “Just two.” You look up at the sky. You only had a sharp stick that day, but there are times when you’ve come out here with a knife. Knife days are for when you’re looking for bigger game. “I’ve been pretty lucky hunting lately, now that I think about it. There’s been more deer and regular rabbits south of the river.”

“What do you mean ‘lately?’”

“The past month.”

Ivan and Marie exchange another long look. Before you can ask them what’s wrong, Ivan turns to you with another smile.

“Say,” he says, “what do you think about trying to bag something bigger than a squirrel today? You ever fire a bow before?”

Your eyes widen. “No.”

“You can use mine,” Marie says, pulling it from her shoulder. She holds it out to you. “We’re nearly the same height. The draw may be a bit heavy for you—or not.”

Embarrassed by the shock in her voice, you release the string. “I’m, uh, stronger than I look.”

“Good,” Ivan says. “That’ll make it easier to actually catch something today.”

The next few hours are the most fun you’ve ever had in the woods. Marie and Ivan go over every part of the bow with you, explaining the weight of it, the flexibility, the length. Marie and Ivan carry several different types of arrows with different tips, all good for different types of shooting. They let you practice on a tree across the river and each time you’re closer to hitting the center of it, they compliment how fast you’re learning, how accurate your eye, how steady and consistent your draw.

By the time they let you hunt with it, you feel like you’re walking on clouds.

The feeling lasts even after you return to the orphanage, a deer slung over Marie’s shoulders and your hands full of squirrel. There’s a pleasant ache in your back and arms from practicing with the bow. You can’t stop smiling. Everything Ivan says is out of the blue and Marie’s tired responses make it all funny.

At one point you’re walking behind them, watching their shoulders brush when the path gets a little too narrow. They’re smiling at each other and talking softly and for a wild, wonderful, awful moment, you imagine that you can keep this. You aren’t sure what this is. Their attention and their companionship, their gentle guidance and the way they speak to you like you’re an adult?

After Hera’s birthday dinner, the Bahrs stay extra late to help clean up and to spend time with the younger kids. You are still feeling a sort of bone deep happiness you’ve never felt before. Everyone is full and sleepy-eyed from the amount of food you were able to put on the table. The kids gather around their slates in the common area, learning a new type of drawing game from Ivan and Marie.

Hera comes up to where you’re leaning on the doorway. Quietly, she slips her hand into yours. You squeeze it.

“Thanks for the squirrel,” she says quietly.

You lean down and press a kiss to the top of her head. “Happy Birthday.”

She hums and watches the fun in the living room for a long moment. She’s eleven now, three years older than you were that Winter. She’s the second oldest in the orphanage and, for the first time, you wonder if she feels the same sort of responsibility as you.

“I’m happy for you, you know,” Hera says.

You make a low questioning noise in your throat.

“The Bahrs will be good to you,” Hera says. She looks up at you evenly, a small smile tucked into the corner of her mouth. “You deserve that, Isla.”

Every muscle in your chest locks, chasing away the pleasant languidness you’d been feeling. “That’s not—they’re not—”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Hera says. She stands on tiptoe so she can throw her arms around your shoulders, hugging you like she did when she was five. She whispers in your ear, “But I would be happy if they did.”

She lets go of you before you can tell her she’s being ridiculous, skipping into the room to join the drawing game.

You feel out of sorts for the rest of the night.

-----------------------.

(part 1) (part 3)

Thanks for reading! The full story is already posted on my Patreon (X)! If you'd like to support me, please consider checking out my page!

This month will be seeing two main things update on Patreon first: Dandelion (x) and my Cinderella story (masterpost coming soon!) updates for both coming later this week!

#my writing #the hero and hope #second person #multi part fic #short story #kind of #the total piece is 20k words

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stormystarlight · 1 year ago

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my part for the hayloft ii artificer map :]

#rain world #rain world downpour #rw artificer #fanart #my art #animation #multi-animator project #map part #the artificer #slugcat #five pebbles #iterator #2024 #video #undescribed #road untraveled (oc)

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cherry-pop-elf · 8 months ago

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Kiss it Better Pt:3

Curly x Reader

AN: I am just speechless. All this support is making me tear up. Like holy shit. Thank you. Don’t worry! When this finishes(god idk how it will I’m making up as I go since yall want more chapters) I’ll make sure to post it to AO3 for easier access! Just thank you again! And uh. Don’t forget I have a Kofi and Wishlist if you wanna like tip or something. NO PRESSURE! Just a reminder to anyone who WANTS and CAN! You come first! Just. Thank you again!

SUM: You couldn’t sleep, so you try and remember things with Curly to lull you to sleep. As you do, you remember things that are important for a captain to have. Very important, and you are gonna be certain to find them

Warnings: Jimmy, sexual assault, mentions of abortion (it’s a rather calm chapter really. Take it as a pallet cleanser because the next chapter imma really show you how fucked up Jimmy is))

You just couldn’t sleep. It felt criminal to right now. So much was going through your head. So much has happened and now you had time to let it all soak in. The crash, Anya, why there was a crash, Curly’s condition, it made sleep impossible. Especially alone in that big bed that was meant for you and your husband.

You tried to take in deep breaths, and just let the thoughts wash over you. There was responsibility as the Captains Spouse. You weren’t just ‘eye candy’ like Jimmy said. You had worth, and were just as much important to the team as everyone else.

Such as learning a thing or two about what Captain should do in case of an emergency.

Curly was in no state to help, and Jimmy sure as fuck won’t help either. He was the reason everyone crashed after all. He’s a loose cannon and you needed to tip toe around him. Who knows what he might do next. You weren’t even sure if telling Swansea and Daisuke about what’s going on was smart.

Swansea has little girls of his own after all. He won’t react well at all. Then there’s Daisuke. Barely nineteen and thrown into this mess. He might panic or maybe even do something crazy like confront Jimmy. There was just to many what ifs.

So you were left on your own.

You would wrap yourself up in what was once Curly’s sleep robe and grab his spare ID card. The very thing that can unlock any door, and be the one thing that can lock your bedroom door. Definitely should have Anya sleep in here for a while. She deserves to be able to sleep soundly.

While you were waiting for everyone to sleep as well you would explore the bedroom. Looking into nook and cranny to see if there was anything of use. The Captains always were given a bunch of extra shit after all. Even Pony Express had to meet some safety protocols. Curly was their best after all. Even went as far as to try and help him fine work else where. That’s what he explained to you.

Shame. Was just a normal bedroom. The only thing that made it special was it was bigger, and had a lock. Dammit all to hell.

That’s when you tried to think back on past memories of you and your husband. To try and recall any kind of special thing the ships carry. Oh how you felt so guilty for never paying enough attention. Made you feel stupid and useless, but you weren’t.

At least not in comparison to Jimmy.

With a deep breath, you managed to recall something. Something not long before the crash even. You had knocked on the cockpit door to enter it, and was greeted to your husband and Jimmy working. Curly was rambling on about something, while Jimmy kept eyeing the locker suspiciously. As if he wanted to get inside of it for some reason.

That’s your best lead now. God dammit was it a shitty one. The cockpit was stuffed to the brim with foam. But then again that’s the front of the cockpit. If you were careful, and cut the right spot, maybe you can access the locker.

It’s something. Something is better than nothing.

With the robe tossed aside, a change into your jump suit, gloves slipped on, and beanie pulled on to keep your head safe you would make your way to the kitchen. Card key tucked securely inside of your jumpsuit compared to a pocket.

Jimmy can’t know.

Can’t know that you were stealing the only knife that the ship had.

Was going to be a pain in the ass to cut that foam but you really had nothing better to do. So, you unlocked the cock pit and focused on remembering its layout.

“For Anya, for Curly, for Swansea, for Daisuke, and all our families back home.”

You would start the slow and agonizing cutting. Little by little. Just chopping away to try and reach the right side of the pit. To get to that locker and see what was inside. That locker was in the cockpit for a reason. It can only be accessed by the pilots for a reason. There was a reason.

Any time you felt like your arms would give out you thought back to Curly. How he didn’t really have arms anymore to begin with. How Anya was busy throwing up right now. How they needed you. They both needed you.

It had been well over a hour, but you managed to reach the locker. You allowed yourself a breather at the sight of it. Damn was that a pain, but it’ll be worth it. Right?

With your breather over you would use the key card to access the locker. Inside was….Honestly junk. That had you very disappointed. You were honestly ready to cry out of frustration, only to see there were a few locked cabinets inside.

Ones that needed codes.

Codes you knew.

Curly made you memorize them in case of an emergency. He just said to memorize them. That it’s meant to just unlock pin pads. That Pony Express never bothered to change them.

You went to the lower locker and typed it in.

Strange, there was nothing inside. Suppose whatever was inside was taken out. You wondered what could have been in there. Was a very small locker so maybe it was some code scanner or universal unlocking device. Just wasn’t big enough for something you hoped for.

A transmitter.

He prayed it was near the front of the ship. That a transmitter would stuck in the heart of the foam, or as far as just shatter on contact. They had to have a spare communicator. Pony Express had to follow SOME rules after all. Imagine the ship being discovered and the people who found it saw it was missing something as important as that.

So you typed in the code for the larger locker. You were kinda afraid of opening it. To be met with another empty void of metal and dust.

You took a deep breath, and opened.

There really was a god.

There was what you were looking for. A real deal communicator. It was real, it looked untouched and even had dust on it to show that Jimmy never reached it.

Before you grabbed it you made sure to close the door behind you. Just to be sure. Was the dead of night, well from what the clocks say, and everyone should be asleep. Even Jimmy had to sleep. You had to make you move now.

Remain calm, and focus.

You can’t fuck this up.

You snuggled yourself into the corner of the pit, with the communication device in your lap. You hooked the head phones onto your head, and turned it on.

As you waited for it to boot up you made sure you were positioned so that if anyone came through the door, for some reason, you’ll notice. As far as anyone was aware though this room was basically a wall. No purpose to enter. You should be safe, but you had to think ahead. Jimmy was unpredictable, and so full of himself.

Better to be over prepared than see what happens if Jimmy finds out what you are doing.

Couldn’t help but give a squeak of surprise when someone finally spoke to you.

“This is the Emergency Spaceship Retrieval Sector. What seems to be the problem?”

A woman, through the static, spoke to you. Tears of relief fell down your face but you forced yourself to remain focused. You can’t mess this up now. No way no how.

“This is Tulpar for Pony Express. We have suffered a crash about a month ago. From what I can recall we had been a little over four months into our twelve month journey-“ You immediately explained, as to best help them get an estimation on how far the ship had traveled.

“Alright, who may I be speaking to at this moment?”

Deep breaths.

“I am the Spouse to Captain Curly. It is me, Jimmy the co-pilot, Anya the nurse, Swansea the mechanic, and Daisuke our intern.” Deep breaths, keep things quick and to the point.

“Are you all in any immediate danger?”

You had to think about that a moment. Jimmy is a dangerous man. Who knows what he might do next if you don’t play along. So, you had to be honest. You felt guilty for telling the operator what happened. That Curly suffered greatly and needed immediate medical attention, how Anya was a victim of assault and required an abortion as soon as possible, and that the reason for it all was because of Jimmy. He crashed the ship, he raped Anya, he destroyed Curly, and god knows what he will do next.

“Estimated arrival time will be about a month. We have your exact location thanks to the communicator. Remain calm, and know that help is on the way. We have logged this down in the report. Take care of your crew the best you can, Captain.”

And she would log off. You would let your head thump back, and simply cried. Cried in pure relief and joy. That a real person heard you, and was aware of what’s going on. That if anything did go wrong that at least someone knows. Someone will know what happened.

There was hope.

Now was a matter of survival.

One month.

You all needed to survive one month.

One Month Until Rescue…

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too-much-tma-stuff · 1 year ago

Text

Finally getting help (prt 9)

Masterpost

“So where’s the brother?” Jason asked as he followed Bruce down the hall.

“He’s in Tim’s lab. It seems like they’ll be able to share it, which is good even with as big as this place is I don’t think we have room for two mad science labs,” Bruce said with dry humour, making Jason laugh in spite of himself.

“Tim must be thrilled to have a buddy huh?” He asked, still chuckling. No one in this family was stupid by any means, he often felt like the dumb one and objectively he knew he was still a fucking genius. But even with all of them being That smart no one could keep up with Tim’s innovative and scientific mind.

“I think he might even learn a few things, which is a frightening concept. Danny asked for microwaves and toasters this morning so he could cannibalize them into anti-possession tech. The way that boy combines science and magic is going to give both me and Constantine ulcers.”

Jason snorted, both at the joke and maybe a bit out of pleasure that someone was going to be giving Bruce a hard time. “Well if you need a babysitter don’t call me. I don’t want to deal with any of that,” he chuckled.

“Oh absolutely not, you would only feed into the chaos,” Bruce said quickly making Jason cackle, because he was right.

“Alright,” Bruce murmured to himself when they reached the closed door to the lab, it was almost lost in the banging inside but Jason heard it. Heard Bruce bracing himself for whatever was going to happen when Jason and Danny met.

He opened the door and across the room Jason saw who must be Danny. He was prime adoption bait with his black hair and blue eyes, but he was… absolutely beautiful, slight and elven, gently curved and wired with muscle. Jason froze, and it seemed so did Danny, staring at each other from across the room. Butterflies fluttered in Jason’s stomach, building till they didn’t feel like butterflies but something buzzing, trying to get out. He could hear the growl coming from his chest, not his throat.

Danny’s eyes swirled with green and he vaulted over the work table, abandoning the half finished tech he was working on to lunge at Jason. He collided with Jason with a snarl of his own, Jason growled and flipped Danny over his shoulder, the hall was a closed space so Danny twisted, running into the wall feet first and landing in a crouch. Jason twisted so he didn’t have his back to a wall anymore as Danny lunged at him again and Jason dodged, pushing off the wall to give himself momentum as he threw himself after Danny.

Danny grabbed Jason’s arm and used his momentum to throw him over his hip, following him down to the ground, barely missing as Jason rolled away. He didn’t even think to draw a weapon, that wasn’t what this fight was about, they weren’t actually trying to hurt each other. Even as Jason punched down so hard he cracked the floor he somehow knew Danny would dodge, and wouldn’t get hurt. And Danny did, he got out of the way and lashed out in return, kicking Jason in the chest and sending him flying a few feet back giving Danny time to scramble back to his feet and chase after him.

This give and take carried them down the hall and to the landing by the stairs. Somewhere in the background Jason knew that someone was shouting at them to stop, and to be careful, but he wasn’t listening. He was too focussed on the growl emanating from Danny, and from himself which were starting to smooth out again, to feel less like desperate insects trying to escape and more like a cat’s purr, or some sort of song. They were reaching equilibrium, some sort of harmony.

He didn’t realize how close they were to the stairs until Danny knocked him back again and this time when he stepped back he didn’t land on solid ground. The two of them tumbled down the stairs, rapidly switching who was on top as they fell. Jason could feel himself collecting bruises but he didn’t fucking care.

They came to a halt at the bottom of the stairs with Jason on top, his forearm pressed against Danny’s chest just below his throat. They were both breathing hard, staring at each other with wide blue-green eyes. The growling died down, lowering down into purrs harmonizing with each other as they caught their breath. Jason’s was lower and Danny’s a little higher, it was a hypnotic sound that made Jason feel… peaceful.

Danny moved first, reaching up slowly to touch Jason’s face, but before he could Jason realized what they had done and the position he was in. He had fought with Danny, and he was now pinning an abused teenager to the floor straddling his waist. This looked bad and now that he realized what was happening it Felt worse! He practically shot up off of Danny and was about to bolt before Danny grabbed his hand.

“Wait! Don’t go yet! Let me just, let me get you a specter-deflector so no one can possess you first okay?” Danny asked, sounding oddly desperate and even though Jason wanted to run he nodded.

Danny looked relieved and let go of Jason before suddenly flying up and through the floor above them. Jason blinked at the ceiling above him before looking around him.

Oh dear, Bruce, Tim, Damian, and Jazz were all watching from the landing above. Damian looked like he wanted to kill Jason himself, Bruce looked disappointed, Tim impassive and Jazz looked… Excited? Why did she look happy?

Danny flew back down through the floor before anyone could think of what to say. “Okay! Here’s the specter-deflector,” He said, clicking something that looked like a watch into place around Jason’s wrist. “That’ll protect you, this is a blaster,” he said, handing Jason an odd sci-fi looking gun. “It’ll reload automatically from ambient ectoplasm, it works best against dead and undead but it can hurt humans too. And.. um, this is my number,” He said, blushing furiously as he handed Jason a slip of paper. “Please text me?”

When had Jason’s mouth gotten so dry?! He had to lick his lips before he answered, painfully aware of how hot his cheeks were and that he must be blushing too. He didn’t blush much, not since his death and resurrection, but he was absolutely blushing now, and he was still purring too if more softly now. He didn’t even know that he could purr, not really. “Ya, Yes, I’ll text you,” he promised before he fled the house. He would have to have some of Alfred’s lasagna later, just then he desperately needed to calm down and clear his head.

-----

Jazz was practically vibrating with excitement and as soon as the door had closed behind Jason she couldn’t contain it anymore. She squealed as she vaulted over the railing of the landing and landed in the foyer and sprinting over to Danny. “Danny what the heck! You have a crush?! I haven’t seen you that passionate in ages!” She enthused scooping Danny up under his arms and twirling him around.

“Jaaazz,” Danny complained even as he went kitten limp in her arms letting her hold him at arms length nearly a foot off the floor.

“I didn’t even know you liked boys! Why didn’t you tell me you like boys!?” Jazz demanded, shaking him a little.

“I didn’t really, I mean I always preferred girls. The only guy I ever really had a crush on was Dash and-” He cut off when Jazz made a disgusted face. “Exactly! That was never going to happen and he was an asshole so I didn’t want to talk about it!”

“Okay ya I understand- Wait you were making fun of me for having a thing for bad boys when your type is asshole meathead jocks!? Ohhh you’re never going to hear the end of this baby brother!”

“Oh my god No!” Danny groaned, finally squirming out of Jazz’s hold and dropping back to the ground stepping back.

He turned towards the Wayne’s who had made their way down the stairs while the siblings were talking. “Is Jason an asshole?” He demands of Tim, he’s probably the fairest judge in Danny’s estimation.

“Absolutely,” Tim said promptly before realizing what he said and backtracking a little. “But I’m his brother, I'm supposed to say that. Jason’s heart is in the right place, he's a good guy, just kinda violent and a complete jerk,” Tim said.

“Perfect,” Danny said his expression a little dreamy.

“Why on earth would you have a crush on Todd?! You could do so much better!” Damian squawked indignantly, breaking the tension and making everyone besides Bruce laugh, and even he smiled just a little.

“I want to say you did well Bruce, I know it was hard not to break up the fight but so? It was good for them, I hope it won’t be too hard on you if they do end up dating,” Jazz said, patting Bruce’s arm.

He shifted from one foot to the other a little awkwardly but then shook his head. “No it won’t be, I mean it won’t be the first time, Barbra was as good as my daughter and she dated Dick, and Steph and Tim dated. It’s always a little awkward but I’d rather that than a Super,” He said, shooting Tim a look, he cleared his throat and looked away.

“Well good, we’ll see how this works out but really,” she turned back towards Danny. “This could be good! You’ve always been attracted to violent people but I don’t think that your ghost instincts realized that when Val was shooting at you it wasn’t bonding for her the same way it was for you,” she told him, her tone borderline accusatory.

Danny looked down and shifted from side to side, giving a little shrug. “I know, but she was a good girlfriend, when she wasn’t being Red Huntress and I wasn’t being Phantom. When we were just Danny and Val, it was good.”

“Oh Danny,” She sighed and pulled him into a hug. “I know, but he has the same instincts as you, I’m rooting for you Danny.”

“Thanks Jazz,” Danny said softly, hugging her back.

“Welp, I’m heading back to the lab,” Tim said, obviously uncomfortable with the genuine emotions he made a break for it before he could get roped into any hugs.

#danny phantom #dc x dp #fanfiction #dead on main #jason todd #finally getting help au #Danny is pregnant #trans!Danny #vlad is a creep #bruce wayne #jazz fenton #damian wayne #tim drake #multi part fic #long post #unedited #let me know if you find any mistakes

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h0useslut · 8 days ago

Text

⤷ LOVER GIRL series masterlist ⋆.˚ ♡

main masterlist!

pairing : aaron hotchner x fem!shy!bookstore owner!reader

summary : a soft, slow burning story about a shy, hopeless romantic bookstore owner (reader) and the serious, brooding FBI agent who keeps showing up, bringing comfort, storms and unexpected love.

warnings : angst, emotional vulnerability, panic/anxiety attack, fear of thunderstorms, mentions of trauma, slow burn romance, smut (for future parts), use of pet names (sweetheart), drinking alcohol (wine)

⌗ CHAPTER ONE ⋆ quite the job you’ve done on me sir!

⌗ CHAPTER TWO ⋆ the silver linings i’ll be there with you

⌗ CHAPTER THREE ⋆ coming soon!

⌗ CHAPTER FOUR ⋆ coming soon!

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #reader insert #books #comfort fic #fem!reader #domestic fluff #soft!hotch #multi part fic #ongoing #bookstore au #aaron hotchner smut

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stellamarielu · 5 months ago

Text

talk too much

declan o’hara x female reader

summary: you're painfully introverted causing your boss to go out of his way to meddle in your personal life in a desperation to feed his rather unprofessional infatuation with you.

content: fluff, mutual pining, workplace conversations, casual flirting, implications of cheating oops fuck off maud, just cutesy boss!declan who talks too much and shy!reader who keeps to herself but they both have a little crush on each other! very wholesome!

author’s note: just 3k words of mutual pining and workplace crush declan core. this request sparked my interest and i thought i’d write a little something for it🤷‍♀️ do with it what you will.

You were a quiet person. You preferred your own company and despised parties. Not to mention your hatred for public speaking and meeting new people. It had been that way since you were a kid, you just always kept to yourself; the textbook definition of introverted.

When your degree in journalism landed you a job at Corinium Televison it wasn’t exactly what you had in mind for your career, but upon meeting Declan O’hara you were laying your apprehensions at the door.

He was charming, charismatic and confrontational. Your opposite in every way, yet you adored working for him. He was the kind of journalist you admired, the kind who would do anything for a story and push boundaries. You felt honored working alongside him.

He was an open book when it came to his job, willing to tell you anything you wanted to know and teach you everything there was to learn. As his assistant you spent most of your day listening to Declan talk, in the short time you had worked for him you felt like you could write a biography on his life– well his professional life at least.

Declan on the other hand knew little to nothing about you. You were this quiet young thing that catered to his every whim, oftentimes knowing exactly what he needed before he even did. It amazed him how hard you worked; how knowledgeable you were, but how little you made your presence known. Anyone else half as good at their job would make it a point to be loud and obnoxious about their successes, but not you.

You were an anomaly to him.

He watched as you sat across from him sorting through a heap of editorials and tabloids. You were silently working, as usual, but the lack of noise in the room was eating away at Declan. He needed to fill the emptiness, or perhaps he just wanted to hear your voice.

“Didn’t you mention you took a few classes in gender studies in school?”

Declan’s question had your hands pausing their current task of flipping through news articles.

How did he remember that?

It was something you told him in passing. A whisper from your lips as he was scoffing at something sexist Tony said to another employee. You made a snide comment under your breath that only Declan caught which then led you to inform him of your choice of studies in college.

But that was weeks ago, and now he was casually bringing it up while you both looked over materials to help with the next taping of his show.

“Just thought it could be helpful given the circumstances.”

He was referring to next week’s guest being a morally corrupt and painfully problematic politician.

“Yeah, I did.” You didn’t look up from the papers as you spoke.

“It actually had me thinking about changing my major for a bit.”

You weren’t sure why you were delving into your educational history.

Then again, it was Declan.

He was always asking you questions, and you were always answering them. He had a way of making you divulge things, which made sense given the nature of his job and how good he was at it.

You briefly peered up at him to find his eyes already fixed on you. It was almost unnerving.

Your lips quirked in an unvoluntary smile as you watched the man across from you grow interested in something as trivial as your collegiate experience.

It was funny how involved in the conversation he’d become. His hands were no longer holding newspapers, instead they were folded and resting gently on the desk in front of him. His eyes were focused on you from underneath his glasses– the ones he only ever wore while the two of you rummaged through articles on your lunchbreak.

“Why didn’t you?” His question was genuine. The inflection in his voice and the way his stare stayed on yours had you squirming in your seat. It was silly really, how uneasy he made you feel. It was as if he were interrogating you when it was just one simple question.

“Um, I don’t really know. I guess I was just so far into my major it felt like I’d have to start over if I switched directions.”

You averted your gaze back to the papers on the desk, picking up the first headline you saw and pretending to scan the words on the page.

“Well, maybe I’m biased, but I’m glad you stuck with journalism. Don’t know if I’d have you here if you didn’t.” His words had a certain spring to them, which was rare for most people to hear but you had gotten quite used to the welcoming tone.

You just offered a warm smile as you kept looking over the materials in front of you, barely meeting his eyes that were still glued on you.

It drove Declan insane, the way you would politely dismiss him when he tried to get to know you.

Come to think of it, he hadn’t held a conversation with you for longer than ten minutes. But for some reason it was all he wanted to do. He was fascinated by you. It was like he had this need to figure out every little detail about your life.

Why were you so hard to crack? More importantly why was he so infatuated with you?

Maybe it was because he had grown so used to being able to read everyone but he could never read you. It was like you had a way of sneaking through his expertise and he found himself obsessing on it; wanting to prove to himself and to you that he could make his way past the guard that you held up so tightly. So, he remembered every little detail you shared with him and took notice of even the smallest things you let slip through the cracks of your solitude. You may have been selective in your communication but it didn’t stop Declan from piecing you together. Every conversation shared between you had him filling in the puzzle bit by bit.

“I’m sorry if I talk too much.” Declan had turned his attention back to his desk as he apologized.

You stopped rummaging through papers to look up at him, a smile slipping onto your lips before an almost silent chuckle fell from them.

“Well, isn’t that your job? To talk to people?” You were still softly giggling as you spoke.

The sound had a certain warmth spreading through Declan’s chest. Your laugh was such a delighted sound, so gentle and sweet– almost melodic. He was trying not to question the innate pull he felt toward you upon hearing the noise; tried not to listen to the little voice in his head that was telling him to say something else just to hear it again.

“Yes, but not you. I’m not meant to be cross-examining my employees.”

He cringed as the word employee left his mouth. He didn’t like referring to you as that. He saw you as more of an equal. The power dynamic between a boss and their employee was something that Declan wasn’t fond of. Plus, given the way his mind would often wonder to rather unprofessional thoughts about you, he felt much better about viewing you as just a coworker.

“I don’t mind.” Your response was quiet as you offered him a soft smile.

Although, that wasn’t the complete truth. You very obviously did mind. Both of you knew it.

You were always so apprehensive to chat with the man, but that was only because you had just a teeny tiny crush on him, and it made your already shy disposition seem even more withdrawn. If it were up to you, there would be absolutely no small talk between you. All you wanted was to avoid conversations with him so your attraction would eventually diffuse, but he made it nearly impossible by always insisting you join him in his office to help with projects.

“Are you going out with everyone tonight?” Thankfully Declan was veering your conversation a different direction.

“Oh god no.” After the words left your lips you almost clapped a hand over your mouth.

You didn’t mean to be so blunt, but every Friday a bunch of people from the office went out for drinks at Bar Sinister. They always invited you but you constantly turned them down. The idea of it sounded like your own personal hell.

Declan’s eyes shot up to you at the way you answered his question. He was chuckling at your brutally honest response, the sound of his laugh low and rough.

“I didn’t mean for it to come out that way… I just- I have plans.” You were fumbling out your words, trying to cover up your complete disinterest in after-work activities with your coworkers.

“Oh really? And what are these grand plans?”

Declan was prying as he always did and you felt compelled to answer even though there was no reason to be discussing your weekend plans with your boss.

“A movie night.”

Your answer was short and simple. It had Declan raising an eyebrow.

“Ah a movie night. Sounds like a special occasion.”

“Very special. My couch and I are really looking forward to it.”

The sarcastic exchange made Declan chuckle yet again. You’d never seen him like this, so giddy and entertained by your words.

“Well it sounds lovely. Wish I had more nights like that honestly. Can’t tell you the last time I sat and just watch a good film”

“You and Maud never watch movies?”

You weren’t sure why you brought his wife up. He had mentioned her a few times but kept their relationship private for the most part. Maybe bringing her name into the conversation was a subconscious way of reminding yourself that he was taken.

“I can’t remember the last time Maud and I did anything like that together.” His voice was quiet as he spoke about his wife. You could almost hear a hint of resentment in his words.

Declan wasn’t expecting you to bring up Maud. At the mention of her name he realized something. He had stayed loyal to his wife for years while she cheated on him. He never touched another woman let alone looked at anyone with romantic intentions. But the way he thought about you– it was as if he might as well of been having an affair, and he didn’t even feel guilty about it. Maybe he had finally given up. Maybe the way that you looked at him, the way you talked to him, the mere thought of you, had him realizing that his marriage was doomed and there was still hope for him to start new with someone else. With someone warm, and kind, and passionate. Someone who shared his ideals and interests. Someone who would watch movies, criticize politics and discuss literature with him. Someone like you.

He forced himself to stop going down the rabbit trail of imaginary scenarios in which the two of you were romantically involved. He was quickly reminded of the fact that you worked for him as he watched you sitting across from him very clearly uncomfortable by his depressing commentary about his marriage. Not to mention you barely knew each other outside of work, he was being utterly ridiculous.

“What about you?” He changed the topic, grabbing a random newspaper off the desk and pretending to thumb through it as he continued his question.

“You have a special someone joining you for your big movie night?”

He couldn't help but inquire about your dating life. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't spent an ungodly amount of time wondering if you had a boyfriend.

“No, just me... maybe a few snacks.” You didn't bother to look up from your reading as you answered.

“No boyfriend?”

“No boyfriend.”

At that, your gaze met his again. Your expression was curious and a bit tickled at his effort to dig into your personal life.

“I find that hard to believe.”

The two of you were looking right at each other. Declan let the comment fall from his mouth without really thinking. The furrow of your eyebrows in confusion had him realizing that he spoke the words out loud.

“Why do you say that?” Normally you'd let the conversation go, hoping you could just get back to work without any further discussion but you couldn't help but wonder what he meant by that.

“Well, it’s just…”

Declan thought for a moment, figuring out how he wanted to proceed. Did he cross a line and tell you the truth or did he remain professional and clean up his mess before it was fully spilled out between the two of you.

“You’re brilliant, and thoughtful, and beautiful.” His eyes were on yours as he spoke, deciding to take the chance of making things awkward and paying you a rather allusive compliment.

The way your expression subtly lit up when he called you beautiful had him thankful for taking the risk. It even gave him enough motivation to finish his thought.

“I just feel like a young woman like you could easily get any man you wanted, that's all.”

With that he had rendered you completely flustered. Thank God he couldn’t hear how fast your heart was beating.

Your eyes flitted down to the papers on the desk as you quietly murmured a “thank you”, unsure if you could make eye contact when you acknowledged his words.

“I’m sorry if that was… “ Declan started to speak, but then quickly let the words trail off once he noticed you were throwing yourself back into work.

“I’m gonna shut up now.” He decided to finally let you have a moment of silence, retiring to the work ahead of him.

The two of you were quiet but Declan's mind was racing, he was worried that his comment had made you uncomfortable, and he had no idea how to fix it.

Then he looked up again and saw the shy smile that you were desperately trying to hide as you held documents in front of your face, pretending to read them. He saw the slight changes in your body language; the crossing and uncrossing of your legs, the fluttering of your eyelashes, the way your fingers were tapping against the papers in your hand. You were fidgety. Could it be his words that made you so flustered?

Declan couldn’t stop the smirk from forming on his lips at the idea of you being all ruffled over him paying you such a small compliment. It was cute– endearing even. He'd never seen you like this.

“One more thing.” His voice was once again filling the room.

You looked up with your eyebrows knitted in confusion, prompting him to go on.

“If, for some reason, you ever find yourself going out with everyone one of these nights, let me know. I’ll join you.” He didn't look at you as he spoke, just kept his eyes trained on the work in his hand.

“We can have a drink, and you can let me annoy you with more questions without it disrupting your work ethic.” He continued to work as he aimed his words in your direction.

His invitation was casual and nonchalant but it had your smile growing wider. You were sure he was expecting you to turn him down the same way you did with everyone else, but the little devil on your shoulder, that rarely got its way, was desperately whispering in your ear to take him up on the offer.

“Next Friday it is.” Your voice was gentle but steady as you accepted his invitation.

At your words his head shot up and his expression was undeniably smug.

For some reason you suddenly felt nervous. It wasn't like it was a date or anything, half of the office would be there, but for some reason the thought of being with Declan outside of work had a fluttering sensation filling your stomach.

“Perfect, I’ll hold you to it.”

He was flashing you a friendly wink, but it only added to the embarrassing way your body was reacting to him; blood rushing to your cheeks, stomach in knots, and a giddy smile threatening to take over your face. You had to force yourself to look back down at the words beneath you.

You were in trouble.

You could hardly hold a conversation with the man without stumbling over your words and swooning in his presence and now you were agreeing to get a drink with him? A drink, in a bar, with no work to distract you. But it was just as coworkers, right? Friends, and nothing more. He just wanted to get to know you because you worked for him. Yeah, that’s what you’d tell yourself so you could muster up the courage to not flake on the impending date with your boss who called you beautiful straight to your face. It was no big deal really.

And then before going back to reading, you looked at Declan one last time only to see that he was the one focused on work now. But the soft smile lingering on his lips was impossible to miss.

my masterlist

#I actually had a lot of fun writing this!#like why do I want to write a multi-part fic for this (spoiler alert I'm not gonna do that I'm sorry) but like it would be cute #declan o'hara #declan o'hara x reader #declan o’hara smut #rivals #rivals x reader #rivals fanfiction

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on-the-clear-blue · 2 months ago

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Dan had many feelings. Sure most of them were negative and hate was a very big one of his many emotions.

But another one was pure and simple ecstatic euphoria.

Because...he was himself again. Gone was a big and bulky form, back was his...normal self. He had forgotten what it had felt like to look in the mirror and see himself, not the twerp or the clone, not some demented memory screaming in horror at what he had done.

No. It was his face, thr soft curves that he got from his mother, the dark hair and blue eyes from his father, the eyebrows that matched Jazz's, not a single lick of Vlad was in him, not the scars from his global dominance, no deformed fangs that bit into his flesh, no flaming hair that he couldn't shape.

It was just Him.

And he couldn't help but feel great about that.

---

Danny watched as Dante (they all couldn't be named Danny) stare at himself in the mirror. He himself didn't have the personal need to preen as much as the teen was doing, so perhaps it was just the quirk of his other self.

Stopping behind him, Danny couldn't help but smile a bit, the teen looked happy, sure he wasn't smiling but Danny knew his teenage face well enough to know that Dante was majorly pleased.

Blue met blue through the mirror, and Danny nodded to the teen, Dante had been given an old clone body after a long rehabilitation, so it was set in Danny's teenage years, even though the man had aged a decade.

Smirking as he ruffled Dantes hair (which earned him a snap of teeth and a jab to the kidneys) Danny nodded to the door, "Come on, your going to be late for school, it's your first day so you can't miss it."

Dante gave a glare and a huff, but the glare softened as he looked at himself in the mirror, and Danny was struck at just how young the teen looked at the moment.

Apprehension and tension was clear on the boys face, but behind that was worry, panic even Danny knew the face well, having had it many times before.

"Do I really have to fucking go? Doesn't being a war criminal exclude me from such things?" Dante snarked, turning to actually properly look at Danny, who could only chuckle.

"We both know you actually want to, cant be an astronaut without a PhD and cant get that withour a high-school diploma...You quit before graduating...last time." Danny said with a stiffness.

The teens eyes hardened "Well excuse fucking me, seeing everyone I loved and cared about die in an explosion made me not really feel up to going to god damn fucking school."

Shoving past Danny, Dante stormed past him, a trail of steam and the sent of smoke following him out of the house and onto the streets of the new city.

Some ecto filled, low life having, bat infested city...called Gotham.

---

Damian tugged at his tie, fixing it into place after touching up his hair once more, frowning as he fiddled with it, making a mental note to trim it soon.

Grabbing an sponge, the teen dabbed it into a small tub of tan makeup, before softly applying it to his face, his touch light as he goes over the back eye he was trying to hide.

Yes the Robin mask did offer some protection, but not nearly enough to fully stop a Venom junkie that just got a new dose.

And while he was thankful to get the new lead on Banes operation selling Venom, a deep nagging part of him hated that his face had payed the price for it.

Damian hated that he cared about his appearance, and hated that he associated it with his mother.

Learning how to do disguise make up had been one of the only times during his training he had spent extended periods of time with his mother, skills that he was still using to this day.

Putting down the sponge, Damian got a fresh one and dabbed it onto his face, blending the colors until the purples and blues of the black eye disappeared completely.

"Master Damian, the car is pulled up to the front, though i shall be taking you Master Richard has offered to pick you up. I must tend to your idiotic father, as he seems to be trying to stand again on both his broken legs. Perhaps this time I shall leave him in a straight jacket before hiding the keys, that should keep him down for longer..." the old butler muttered to himself at the end, but Damian could only sigh as he stepped away from the mirror.

"Just invite Miss Kyle or Eamm Clark to keep him down." Damian said, toeing on his shoes as he steps out from his room, taking the offered backpack from Alfred as he walks by him.

"Ahh...that might solve the issue of him staying in his room...but both of them have a possibility of causing more harm to him.." the elder butler said, walking close behind his youngest charge as he made his way to the front of the house.

Damian pulled a face, "Disgusting Pennyworth, please do not discuss my fathers...promiscuous relationships with those two, I do not want to dig out my ear drums just to burn them but I shall if you continue."

The old man gave a not-smirk, the kind thst was more frown but held a jolly feeling. "Oh of course Master Damian..."

Rolling his eyes, the teen got to the front steps, even half way through them in blissful silence before Alfred spoke once more. "Ah. I was set it inform you yesterday day but as you had an injury I had forgotten, you will be receiving a new classmate today, your father had done a screening of course, and they stood out because of their parents, who happen to be inventors that like making things go...to steal a phrase from Master Jason, Boom."

Damian just nodded, "I shall research them. I will know everything about them by the time I will come home."

"And that is all I can ask you Master Damian" Alfred said, opening the car door, "I do hope thst the day is not wasted, it is not every day that one starts highschool."

#batman #batfam #danny phantom #dc x dp #dpxdc #damian wayne #dan fenton #Dan dp #his name is now Dante cus fuck writing Dan all the time #will be a multi part series #i am sleep deprived #is it still dead serious if its Dan and Damian?#dan is not okay #but he is getting there #superbatcat is great and nobody can steal it from me

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actuallybean · 27 days ago

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Last Woman Standing* | Part One

An apocalyptic plague wipes out every woman on Earth — except you. Now locked in a bunker with Sam, Dean, and Castiel, they soon realize they’re all falling in love… and lust… with the last woman alive. *Contains sexual material: Minors DNI, polyamory, apocalyptic themes, emotional/psychological tension, possessiveness, protective dynamics, some angst, heavy sexual content in later parts, consensual but intense scenarios. Pairings: Sam Winchester x Reader, Dean Winchester x Reader, Castiel x Reader (eventual polyamorous dynamic) Part Two Tag List: @mostlymarvelgirl @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @catsinacottage Supernatural Masterlist | Main Masterlist

You wake to the sound of your phone buzzing angrily against the wooden table.

It vibrates so violently it nearly throws itself onto the floor. Your cheek is stuck to the open pages of an old lore book, your neck stiff from the awkward angle you'd passed out in. There’s a deep indentation from the spine of the book pressed into your skin. A blanket—Dean’s old flannel one—has been thrown over your shoulders at some point, but it’s barely warding off the cold.

The overhead light is still on, flickering slightly, and the bunker’s library is otherwise silent. Too silent.

You blink against the sting of dryness in your eyes, your lashes crusted together from sleep, and groggily fumble for your phone. The screen glows harsh in the low light. You squint through the blur and read the message that’s been sent a dozen times, each timestamp a little more frantic than the last.

Jody Mills: Claire’s missing. Donna too. No women at the station today. Something’s wrong. You okay? Hello?? WHERE ARE YOU??

Your breath sticks in your throat.

You bolt upright, the chair scraping across the floor with a shrill screech that echoes off the walls. The books you’d been reading tumble to the floor in a heap. The bunker feels too big, too quiet, too cold.

You blink at the time—4:42 a.m.

Your fingers shake as you type out a response. I’m fine. What do you mean they’re gone?

The message status says Delivered, but there's no reply. Just that hovering silence.

You rise to your feet, still disoriented, brushing the sleep from your eyes and pushing the blanket off your shoulders. Your bare feet hit the cold stone floor as you move toward the hallway, calling out quietly.

“Sam?”

Nothing.

“Dean? Cas?”

Still nothing.

The bunker feels… wrong. Like the shadows are watching you. Like you’re the only person left alive underground.

You move quickly now, padding barefoot down the corridor, glancing into each room as you pass, heart thudding harder with every unanswered call.

And then, from somewhere deeper in the bunker—you hear it.

Voices.

Frantic. Overlapping. Panicked.

“I can’t find her anywhere!” Dean’s voice, sharp with worry. “Kitchen, bedrooms, garage—nothin’. She’s gone, man!”

“I checked the security feed,” Sam is saying, breathless. “Last image of her is from ten hours ago, entering the library. Then nothing. No exit. Nothing after that.”

“What if…” Castiel’s voice is quiet but grave. “What if it happened to her, too?”

“No.” Dean growls. “Don’t say that. Don’t even—She wouldn’t just vanish. She’d fight like hell. We’d know.”

The sound of Castiel’s wings shivers through the air, the heavy flap echoing in the silence like thunder underground.

“I searched every floor,” he says when he rematerializes. “She’s not here.”

You round the corner into the war room just as Dean shouts again, pacing furiously. “Goddammit! She was right here! We were all here, and now she’s just—” He cuts himself off, shoulders trembling.

“I’m here,” you say softly.

The silence that follows is immediate.

Dean whirls around like he’s seen a ghost. Sam’s eyes widen, stunned. Castiel stops mid-step and stares at you like you’ve just risen from the dead.

You blink at them from the archway, wrapped in your oversized sleep shirt, hair a tangled mess, phone still clutched in your hand like a lifeline.

“I… I fell asleep. In the library. My phone was under a book or something. I didn’t hear anything.”

They don’t speak at first—just stare. The relief that floods the room is palpable. Dean exhales sharply, dragging a hand down his face as if he’s physically holding himself together. Sam drops into the nearest chair like his knees gave out. Castiel takes a step forward, his eyes flickering with something that might be awe, or grief, or some mix of both.

Dean finally breaks the silence. “Jesus, sweetheart.” He crosses the space in three long strides, wrapping you in a fierce hug, arms crushing around you like he’s anchoring himself. “We thought we lost you.”

“I didn’t even know anything was happening,” you whisper, your voice breaking. “Jody messaged me. Said Claire was gone. Donna too. No women on duty anywhere.”

Sam speaks without looking up. “Hospitals. Schools. Government offices. It’s not just hunters—it’s everyone. Every woman… just gone.”

You feel it settle like lead in your bones.

A cold, unspeakable understanding.

“Except you,” Castiel says, voice low and reverent. “You’re the only one left.”

You stand there in the middle of the war room, Dean’s arms still around you, Sam watching you like you’re fragile glass, Castiel with something ancient and wounded in his gaze—and for the first time, you truly feel the weight of your existence. You, alone, standing against the silence that swallowed half the world.

And suddenly, the bunker doesn’t feel cold anymore.

It feels like a cage.

A quiet, humming tomb. And you’re what it’s protecting. Or what it’s hiding.

Either way—you are no longer just part of the world. You are what remains of it. And that knowledge burrows into your chest like a splinter too deep to remove.

✦

You don’t cry at first.

Not when Sam lays out the facts on the war room table like corpses in a morgue. Not when Dean starts scratching a map of missing persons reports into the wood with his knife. Not even when Castiel murmurs that Heaven’s gone still—no new souls, no activity.

It's when they tell you you can’t leave that it finally hits.

You sit in the library—the same goddamn chair you fell asleep in—with a wool blanket wrapped around your shoulders, hands clenched around a mug of tea you forgot to sip. The steam has long since faded.

Dean sits across from you, hunched forward like he can’t meet your eyes. Sam’s pacing behind him, arms folded, the muscles in his jaw tight. Castiel stands in the doorway like a silent sentinel, eyes burning holes through the floor.

“Look,” Dean says, gently. “We don’t even know what’s causing this yet. We don’t know if it’s demonic, celestial, viral, magical—”

“I get it,” you say, your voice hoarse. “You think I’ll vanish too if I leave.”

“We don’t know what’ll trigger it,” Sam says, turning sharply. “But so far, you’re the only woman who’s survived. That means something. And until we figure out what that is, you’re not safe outside.”

You nod numbly, staring at the mug in your hands.

You’re not safe inside, either—not really. Not from the thoughts creeping in around the edges of your mind.

Claire. Jody. Donna. Charlie. Eileen. Rowena.

Gone.

Without a trace.

The grief doesn’t crash all at once. It leaks in—through the cracks in your resolve, through the soft moments of silence between words. Through the familiar ghosts in your memory.

You remember Charlie’s laugh echoing through the bunker, her boots up on the table while she trounced Dean in Mario Kart.

You remember Jody’s arms around you after your first brush with death, how her voice shook when she said, You’re one of mine now.

You remember Eileen’s gentle hands and her fierce, unflinching eyes. The way she taught you the ASL sign for family.

You remember Donna’s voice over the phone, warm and light, always ending every call with, Love ya, sweetheart. Stay sharp.

You remember Rowena sitting across from you at the kitchen table once, sharp eyes and a small smile on her lips, telling you, You remind me of myself at your age. That’s a good thing. Mostly.

They're all gone.

Every woman you’ve ever fought beside, bled beside, loved—

Gone.

You blink, and the tears spill over without warning, sliding hot down your cheeks, caught in the salt lines around your mouth. You press the mug to your lips just to have something to hold onto, something solid.

Dean looks up, alarmed. “Hey—hey, don’t…”

He stops himself, because what the hell can he say?

Don’t cry? Don’t feel this? Don’t mourn an entire gender?

You swallow a sob so thick it bruises your throat.

“I keep thinking,” you whisper, “what if it’s not just now? What if this is it? What if I am the last?”

No one answers.

The silence is worse than anything they could say.

Sam crosses to you slowly, placing a hand on your shoulder, the touch gentle but grounding. Castiel approaches from the shadows, kneeling beside you like a knight before a dying queen.

Dean swears under his breath and kicks the leg of the table before sinking down next to Sam, running a hand through his hair.

“You’re not alone,” Dean says eventually, voice low, rough. “You’ve still got us.”

“I know,” you whisper. “But it’s not the same.”

Because they don’t know what it’s like to be in your skin. To sit in your room and realize every face you’ve seen in the mirror belongs to a class of people that no longer exists. To have no one left who knows the language of your body, the weight of your silence, the ache of sisterhood.

The boys are trying. You know they are. But grief like this is a different kind of species. It doesn’t respond to logic or comfort. It just is. A dull, gnawing ache that worms its way through your chest and wraps around your lungs until even breathing feels like mourning.

You stand, the blanket falling from your shoulders, and turn to leave.

“Where are you going?” Sam asks gently.

“My room,” you mutter. “I need—just—I need a minute.”

Dean starts to rise like he might follow, like he might try to offer you company. But Castiel gently puts a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

You don’t look back.

You walk the long, dim hallways of the bunker barefoot. It’s colder now. Or maybe you are.

When you finally reach your room, you close the door softly behind you and curl up on your bed, pulling the covers to your chin like armor.

And in the dark, you finally let yourself cry for real.

You cry for Claire’s stubborn spark and Donna’s laugh. For Rowena’s strength and Jody’s arms. For the way Charlie used to tease you and the way Eileen used to see you. For every woman you’ve known. Every girl you’ve saved. Every name you’ll never learn now.

You cry for the silence where their voices should be.

And you cry for yourself, too—for the hollow, lonely truth of what you’ve become.

Not a survivor. Not a warrior.

A relic.

A ghost of a world that no longer exists.

✦

Time loses shape in the bunker.

There are no windows, no sunrises or sunsets to mark the hours. Only the hum of old lights, the rumble of distant generators, the clink of coffee mugs, and the shuffle of tired feet. At some point, the calendar on your nightstand stopped meaning anything. It’s just a piece of paper now—one of the last things written by a woman.

You don’t know how many days passed before it stopped feeling like shock and started to feel like reality. But by the seventh day, the stillness has settled into your bones. Everything that’s gone hasn’t come back. There are no signs. No answers. No dreams whispering clues in the night. Just absence. A void shaped like half the world.

And you still haven’t seen another woman’s face.

Not in person. Not on a screen. Not even in a dream.

You tried, once—searching old photo albums on your phone, scrolling desperately through camera rolls just to see them again. Your thumb paused over Jody’s smile, Rowena’s raised brow, Claire’s battle-stained cheek. You looked at them like a starving person might look at food behind glass. You tried to feel comforted.

Instead, you felt grief crystallizing in your chest like frostbite.

You stopped looking after that.

Sometimes you stand in front of the bathroom mirror longer than you should, just to prove to yourself that womanhood still exists. That it’s not gone. That it hasn’t been erased like pencil marks off a white page. But it’s a hollow ritual now, one that leaves you colder afterward than before.

Your face looks different, even though it hasn't changed.

You wonder if it's because there's no one left who reflects you anymore. No one to echo your voice back with understanding. No one to soften your roughness with their own.

Just you.

And the men.

Always the men.

✦

It started small.

You don’t notice it right away—not in the thick fog of grief, not when you’re moving like a ghost through the bunker, not when your body feels like it’s wearing the loss like a second skin.

But then—little things.

You walk into the war room and the conversation stops just a little too quickly.

You reach for a cup in the kitchen and Dean is already there, wordless, placing it in your hand before you can ask.

You stretch your sore arms during training and catch Sam’s eyes lingering on the scar beneath your collarbone—one he’s seen a hundred times before, but now… now it looks like he’s seeing you for the first time.

And Castiel. He watches you like you’re both familiar and sacred. Like something holy and untouchable. His silences are longer now. Sharper.

At first, you try to chalk it up to the circumstances. You’re all grieving. You’re all trapped. And maybe they just don’t know how to treat you anymore. Maybe they’re trying too hard not to break you.

But it grows.

They grow.

Possessive in quiet ways. Protective in louder ones.

Sam walks you to your room even when you insist you’re fine. Dean insists on keeping you in his line of sight when you’re in the firing range. Cas offers to accompany you every time you even suggest stepping outside your door, like he’s afraid the air might swallow you.

It’s not… bad. Not really. But it makes the bunker feel smaller. Like the walls have inched closer every day since the world went dark.

You’re not just the last woman.

You’re the only one.

The last reminder of the world before.

And they look at you like they know it.

✦

It’s after dinner, one quiet night, that it really hits you.

You’re washing the dishes—old habits die hard—and you glance up toward the table where the boys still sit. No one’s talking. Dean’s staring into his glass of whiskey. Sam is flipping through an old newspaper from before the vanishings, not really reading. And Castiel’s eyes are on you.

Not just on you. Watching you.

There’s something so gentle in the way he does it. So reverent. Like you’re the last page in a book he thought he lost. He doesn’t look away when you meet his gaze, doesn’t flinch. Just holds it, like a tether.

Your hands still in the dishwater.

Sam glances up next—and for a moment, it’s like he was waiting for you to catch him. He opens his mouth like he wants to say something, then closes it. His brows furrow. He doesn’t look away either.

Dean, too, lifts his eyes now. Slowly. Like gravity’s fighting him.

And when all three of them are staring at you—really staring—you feel it all at once.

You’re not just a woman to them anymore.

You’re a symbol.

A relic.

A vessel.

The last proof of what was lost.

And maybe—maybe the last hope of what could be rebuilt.

The thought makes your stomach lurch.

You dry your hands and leave the kitchen without a word, your footsteps soft and fast against the stone floor.

✦

That night, you stand naked in front of the mirror again.

It’s the first time in days that you’ve really looked. Your body’s changing—little things. The curve of your hips. The dip of your waist. You press your hand against your belly and try to remember if it’s always felt this soft. This alone.

You turn, examining old scars and new shadows, the pink stretch of your skin where bruises have bloomed and faded. There’s a vulnerability to it now that you can’t shake.

You used to think of your body as a weapon. Sharp. Agile. Strong.

Now it feels like something rare and endangered. Something every eye in the bunker tracks when it moves, even if they pretend not to.

You sigh, turning away from the mirror. You slip into one of Dean’s flannels, too long on your frame, the scent of smoke and leather still clinging to the collar.

You crawl into bed, but sleep doesn’t come.

Because now, it isn’t just grief that sits on your chest—it’s something else.

Something quiet and hungry and waiting.

And you don’t know if it’s theirs… or yours.

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