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physics-of-one-piece · 7 months ago

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I Take Care of You Now

Doflamingo x Reader

Summary: After a night of a heavy snow storm and rainfall on the North Blue Sea, Doflamingo gets woken up by the scraping of a snow shovel on deck.

A/N: A little short one-shot that I’ll implement into the main Red Suit Doffy Fic Merlot & Primroses but it can stand as a stand alone, too, so I decided to send it here. As I said in a post, Doflamingo’s core values he was raised with are something he sticks to. Also... I'm going to hell. I'm going to hell I'm going to hell I'm going to heeeeeeell...

but at least the Heavenly Demon is there 😊🤭🫡

P.S. I wanted to post this at 8pm it's 4pm, the Save Draft went into Post but it's complete so.... Enjoy? 🤣🤣 (I hate you, tumblr) (cry laughs)

Word Count: 3k

Tags: Pre-Relationship, Female!Reader, Rosinante's Wife!Reader, Doflamingo POV, North Blue Era Doflamingo, Red Suit Doflamingo, Fluff, Humor, Cuddling For Warmth, Mentions of Fratricide, Nightmares, Longing, Doflamingo is in Love, Protective Doflamingo, Post Minion Island, Girldad Doflamingo, Dadmingo, Soft Doflamingo (kind of), Donquixote Family, One Shot Fic

Doflamingo is back in the snow again. The white thick layer of it crunches under his boots as he walks. There is snow falling, wild and strong, chilly wind pushing at his face.

There is someone lying on the snow. He knows who it is. The blackened feathers give him away; Doflamingo’s clumsy little brother.

At last, Doflamingo reached him. Rosinante’s lipstick-painted mouth is moving. No sound is coming out of Rosinante’s lips. Doflamingo squats down beside his brother. Maybe if he’s closer, he’ll hear the words his younger brother is saying.

Rosinante’s mouth keeps moving, shaping the words over and over again. He keeps looking at Doflamingo, but no sound is coming out.

What is he saying?

I love you?

I hate you?

I’m sorry?

Don’t touch my wife?

I’ll kill you?

Which is it?

Doflamingo should’ve learned to read lips.

Doflamingo wakes with a gasp, sitting up in his sleeping bag. His face is wet, covered in sweat, and he barely registers a yelp from Baby 5 who’d slept atop his stomach and hugged him for additional warmth during the storm falling off him and on his lap covered by the sleeping bag’s duvet.

Doflamingo realizes he’s without his sunglasses because the world isn’t tinted red. The sudden assault of colors and sunlight illuminating through the portholes makes him blink. Continuing to pant, he reaches for the white-framed sunglasses and mounts them atop the bridge of his nose.

He pants for a little longer, then swallows down. His throat feels dry. He needs to get some wine.

“Young Master?” Baby 5’s careful, hesitating voice reaches his ear. “Are you okay?”

Doflamingo puts on a smile, if not for his sake, then for Baby 5’s. He hates seeing her distraught or hurt. A child should never worry about an adult. It's the greatest disgrace.

“Just a bad dream.” he replied, huffing. “Could you get me a merlot from the wine cabinet?”

“We aren’t allowed to open the wine cabinet.” Baby 5 said, frowning.

“I’m giving you permission,” said Doflamingo. He needs wine, right now. “So go get the merlot for me.”

“Y/N-san said you shouldn’t drink that much...” Baby 5 murmured, continuing to look at him worriedly.

“Who’s the captain here, me or my sister-in-law?” he asked, chuckling. It’s rich of you to scold him on his alcohol abuse when your own husband had been a nicotine-inhaling addict. Rosinante went through one entire pack of cigarettes in a day. How on earth you wanted to kiss his brother or even marry him, Doflamingo would never know.

“You are, Young Master!”

“I don’t know…” mused Doflamingo, making a show of doubt. “Maybe I should let my sister-in-law lead…”

“She doesn’t know how to sail! Or how to be a pirate!” said Baby 5 panically.

“Is that so? I guess I’m staying as captain, then…” He gave a dramatic sigh, fighting not to burst out laughing on the spot. “Too bad, I was looking forward to retirement…”

“You’re not even old!” Baby 5 yelled.

Doflamingo laughed.

“Young Master?”

“What is it?” asked Doflamingo.

“Do you think (Y/N)-san hates living with us?” asked Baby 5.

Doflamingo blinked. Now, he knew you would rather throw yourself in the sea than say anything negative to the kids or be hateful toward them. It was one of your weaknesses he used in his favor to endear you to living with him, after all. What made Baby 5 think that, was what he wanted to know.

"Did she ever say that?” Doflamingo asked.

“No,” said Baby 5, shaking her head. “But... she gets sad a lot... and she seems to like being alone rather than with the rest of the officers.” She cast her gaze away, looking truly sad. “It reminds me of Corazón. He didn’t like hanging around any of us, either...”

Doflamingo was rather impressed. Baby 5 started truly being aware of her environment and how people act around each other. Her observation skills were getting very good for someone as young as her — even Buffalo, who was six years older than her, wasn’t this aware of people.

Doflamingo found his chest swell with pride.

“Don’t worry. Unlike with Corazón, I’m keeping a close eye on her. You forgot she’s a civilian. Civilians are terrified of pirates on instinct. All her life, she’s heard terrible stories about pirates, so of course she won’t feel safe with the officers, or Pica, Trebol, Diamante or me right away. We’re big, we fight, we kill, we rob, we torture, and we have Devil Fruit powers. Civilians run from that, because they’re powerless.”

“I forgot about that,” said Baby 5. “That she’s a civilian.”

Doflamingo laughed. “How so?”

“Because... She’s really fierce!” insisted Baby 5.

Doflamingo chuckled. “She was a marine’s wife. Of course she’s fierce. Just because she’s powerless doesn’t mean she’ll let herself be stepped on. It’s what I like about her.”

Yes. Doflamingo liked that about you very much. It turned him on. Very much. Doflamingo licked his lips.

“Why does she seem sad with me and Dellinger, too?” asked Baby 5, pouting.

“You’re orphans. You had nowhere to go, and became pirates. She pities you, because she thinks it’s unfair toward you. She’s sad because she knows that’s how cruel the world can be.”

“She pities us,” said Doflamingo, shrugging. “It’s not coming from a bad place like others do. Her pity is genuine. She doesn’t mean anything ill with it.”

“I don’t want her to pity us.” said Baby 5. “I want her to -”

“To what?” asked Doflamingo, tilting his head down to the girl, intrigued.

“To love us.” said Baby 5.

“Fufufu! She does love us. She’s just too stubborn to admit it. After all,” Doflamingo smiled. “No civilian is supposed to love pirates. That’d be treason.”

“Really?” Baby 5 asked, eyes full of hope. “She loves us?”

“Really. So don’t worry, okay?” said Doflamingo.

“Okay,” said Baby 5, her smile blooming back onto her face.

“Good girl,” he said, patting her head. “Now, go get me my merlot. And get yourself some bottled water, too.”

“Yes, sir!” chirped Baby 5.

While Baby 5 headed to the kitchen and the wine cabinet, Doflamingo cracked his neck, then got out of his pink sleeping bag. The sleeping bag beside him — where you slept last night — was empty.

He frowned. What was taking you so long in the bathroom? Maybe it was that time of the month for you. He knew there were supplies in the women’s bathroom, so he wasn’t too worried about that.

He’d give you a few more minutes before he went looking for you.

His long legs cracked as he stretched them out, same with his arms.

Baby 5 came back, carrying his bottle of wine and bottled water for herself. Doflamingo took it, undid the clasp, and chugged it down in droves, basking in the liquid pouring down his throat and into his stomach, warming up his body.

“Did you see my sister-in-law?” Doflamingo asked when he was done, bottle half empty now.

“I don’t know,” replied Baby 5 sleepily, rubbing at the crust in her eyes, giving a little yawn. “Maybe the bathroom?”

“Go wake the cook to make us breakfast and hot chocolate,” he said to Baby 5.

“Yes, sir. Um, Young Master...”

“What?”

“I think there’s someone on deck,” whispered Baby 5.

There was scraping on the deck outside. Doflamingo’s Observation Haki didn’t pick up any threat from the person. It could be a fishman or someone stranded on the island.

“It could be a Klabautermann,” said Doflamingo, chuckling. Now wouldn’t that be interesting.

“Klabautermann?” repeated Baby 5.

“It’s a legend.” Doflamingo explained. “If a ship is very loved by the crew, it develops its own spirit in the shape of a fairy.”

“Fairy?!” asked Baby 5 in excitement.

Doflamingo chuckled in confirmation, tracing his gaze over the officers and top officers strewn on the floor of the galley, counting everyone else who was present. You were the only one missing.

“A human-shaped fairy wearing a white sailor’s coat and a pair of shoes.” he explained. “It carries a small wooden hammer, because it fixes up a damaged ship. Ours isn’t damaged, though.”

At least, Doflamingo hoped it wasn’t.

“Oh,” said Baby 5. “I thought it would be a pink flamingo wearing Young Master’s sunglasses, just like the figurehead.”

Doflamingo laughed. “It could be! That’d be fun!”

“What if it’s a ghost?” she asked with slight fright; she’d heard too many ghost stories from Law and Buffalo.

Doflamingo gave Baby 5 one of his grins, the malicious ones which he knows comfort her. To Baby 5, violence equals protection.

“You think a ghost can beat me?” he asked her. “They’re free to try, fufufufufu!”

After some more coaxing and assuring her everything would be fine, Baby 5 left for the kitchen again to wake the ship cook.

Doflamingo grabbed his feather coat where it lay spread on the couch, stepping over a sleeping Gladius and Diamante.

Now, why were they all huddled up in the galley with sleeping bags?

The simple answer was bad weather.

They’d been in a heavy snow storm last night. It was Dellinger’s first heavy snow storm. He cried and ran around in a panic the entire time. He had to be grabbed three times from launching himself overboard and into the sea. Dellinger connected the sea with safety, because it was always safe for him to go into the sea; he always fled there if he was about to get scolded — it was becoming a real problem and at this point, Doflamingo was going to listen to Trebol’s advice and tie the toddler with a rope. If Dellinger went in the sea under those stormy waves yesterday, forget about pulling him out, they wouldn’t be able to find him.

For the past three years, they rarely went this far up north on their voyages, and although most of the adults of the crew were used to responding to and traveling through overbearing hail and rain, the kids were not. They were too prone to making mistakes in the novelty of navigating the waves bigger than Sea Kings despite knowing how to navigate.

The kids had been absolutely terrified.

The storm proved impossible to navigate. Doflamingo put his family and its safety above everything, he wasn’t going to risk them all because he wanted to get to the next island on time. He decided it was best to hunker down near a mountain pass to the closest island than continue to navigate through the storm.

After setting anchor on the nearby, snow-covered coast of the island, everyone had huddled down in the galley beside the largest fire stove to keep warm, bringing in sleeping bags.

Now, after putting on his black overcoat to deal with the cold outside, Doflamingo quickly opened the doors, left the cabin, and closed them just as quickly. He made his way up the stairs and to the cabin on the quarter deck, then exited out into the open winter air.

There was a person on the deck, pushing the snow down the deck and overboard into the sea.

Doflamingo nearly had a heart attack.

After a moment, he realized it wasn’t the ship’s spiritual manifestation.

It wasn’t a Klabautermann. It was you.

Doflamingo called your name. You leapt six feet high at the sound of his voice, which made him laugh. You deserved the fright; you gave him a fright first.

You turned your face up to him. Doflamingo smiled down at you.

“Hey,” you said shakily, like you weren’t out in the cold and shoveling snow from the deck. “Good morning.”

“What are you doing?” demanded Doflamingo.

You look at him like he’s asking a strange question. “I’m shoveling the deck.”

…

What?

“Why?” asked Doflamingo.

“Cause there’s snow on it.” you said.

For a moment, Doflamingo was so confused his brain stopped working.

Because there’s… snow?

Why on… why on earth would you be the one shoveling the snow?!

Doflamingo deployed his strings, leaving the wooden, ice-laden balcony of the quarter deck, reaching you with a single leap. He stood on his strings beside you, because he wasn’t going to walk on the solidified ice undoubtedly hiding under the layer of snow.

“You don’t do that.” said Doflamingo firmly, his thoughts racing thousand miles per hour, the cogs in his mind rushing with what could only be described as Celestial Dragon confusion. “I take care of you.”

“I’ve been doing this my whole life.” you say, shrugging.

Rosi, I’ll bring you back to life and put thirty bullets in you this time. thought Doflamingo, clenching his teeth, his jaw hurting from how hard he did it.

Doflamingo took the shovel from you easily.

“Hey!” you shouted. "I need that!"

“You don’t anymore.” said Doflamingo, crossing his arms over his chest, looking at you with the sternness of a captain. He stepped down from his string onto the deck to stand in front of you — as he suspected, there was ice under the snow. “I take care of you now.”

“Doffy -” you started, but he would have none of it.

“You’re not allowed.” said Doflamingo, because what else is he supposed to say, how else is he supposed to let you know you are too precious to do grunt work? You are not to do any grunt work, ever, for as long as Doflamingo lived and breathed. His parents would roll in their graves if they ever heard he let you do any labor, and Doflamingo experienced a full-body cringe at the mere idea of allowing you to exhaust yourself. Unforgivable. Impermissible. Therefore, not allowed.

By his words, clearly you thought he thought you incapable because you are a woman, completely misunderstanding him as you said indignantly, “I am allowed -”

“You’re too cute to be out here in the cold, querida.” said Doflamingo.

Those words momentarily rendered you mute, and you stared up at him in shock, which made you even more adorable.

“I’m doing whatever I wanna do!” you protest, and it reminds Doflamingo of a bunny stomping its little foot on the ground.

“You get inside,” says Doflamingo, ignoring your words. You could think whatever you wanted, Doflamingo would rather put a sea prism bullet in his own leg than let you freeze outside and let you shovel the deck; he had Buffalo, Machvise and the others for that. Doflamingo wasn’t raised to allow you to do such things; he was raised to coddle you, provide for you, protect you, spoil you, and by his title as saint, he will. “I’ll get you some hot chocolate.”

The ship swayed under a wave, giving a small lurch.

The two of you slid on the solidified ice the deck had become overnight. It was only Doflamingo’s instincts and long arm that helped him grab onto you and pull you to his legs, keeping you from falling. You were completely unaffected, most likely used to such fumbling with Corazón — you didn’t even squawk in alarm, just took it like it was a common thing, to slide on the ice and risk falling and hurting yourself.

That was it. You weren’t listening to him. You were going to get a cold, and with your average civilian balance, break your skull. Time to change tactics.

“You made me do this,” said Doflamingo, sneering down at you.

“Do wha — AAAAH!”

Doflamingo reached down, wrapped his arm around your body, and lifted you up. Once he lifts you above his waist, and continues lifting you higher, that’s when you give an almighty, terrified shriek which startles the seagulls above the crow’s nest.

Doflamingo laughed, and put you stomach flat over his right shoulder, like he would a bag of gold, but you are a much more precious treasure he has than any gold.

There. Much easier. He should’ve done this from the start. Maybe he should carry you like this all the time. He smiled at the idea. Yes. That’s what he’ll do. You wouldn’t try to wiggle out of his grasp if he carried you this high; you’re too scared of hurting yourself by the huge height drop between his shoulder and the ground.

He straightened up, deployed his strings, and stepped onto them, walking on them rather than risk it with the ice.

“Doffy.” Your voice was shaky, terrified and breathless. Doflamingo failed to stifle his laugh. How adorable. “Doffy, put me down.”

You clutched at his spiked up, thick fluffs of hair. He sighed contently at the feeling, his chuckle rumbling through his chest as he grinned.

“Doffy! Put me down!”

“You’re not allowed!” he said firmly, but calmly all the same. He wasn’t angry, just concerned.

“Because I’m a woman?” you asked.

“No,” said Doflamingo simply. “Because I take care of you now.”

“I take care of myself!” you say indignantly as you’re being carried away on Doflamingo’s shoulder and back toward the warmth of the ship’s below deck with warm heating, comforting sweat and frosted, fogged glass.

He really needs to make sure with Diamante and Machvise the Numancia didn’t take any damage.

Doflamingo hears a giggle in his ear. He recognizes the sound, from a far-away memory long gone. He whips his head over his shoulder, and freezes solid.

“Don’t worry, Doffy.” said the little boy with blond bangs covering his eyes. He was sitting atop one of the posts of the sail, his arms tucked into the sleeves of a little purple feather coat over his light blue raincoat. He’s swinging his little feet back and forth where they dangle in the air from the sail. Something strange wells in Doflamingo’s eyes. His throat clogs up; he can’t speak.

The little boy sent him a big smile resembling the sun. “I’m okay.”

Doflamingo was hallucinating. He was definitely hallucinating. He needed to catch up on his sleep if he was seeing his eight-year-old baby brother and hearing his voice in his ear.

He headed inside, ducking as he went.

Baby 5 was tucked in his pink sleeping bag, back to sleep. The duvet wasn’t pulled all the way over her, so Doflamingo used his free right arm and lifted his finger, sending out a string to the duvet, lifting it up to cover Baby 5’s shoulders. Doflamingo hoped she at least woke up the cooks and that they started on breakfast and hot chocolate for the family. Doflamingo manoeuvred around the sleeping bodies of his family, stepping over their sleeping bodies easily.

In the end, you settled down after he put you on the couch in the galley. He noticed your chattering teeth, trembling body and red nose. He clicked his tongue in disapproval, took off his feather coat and draped the massive weight of it over your shoulders. The pink feathers completely enveloped you, tickling your cheeks as you looked up at him in surprise, the warmth the feathers suffused you in chasing away your trembles.

Doflamingo didn’t linger on the way you looked up at him, bundled in his feather coat and drowning in his scent, because he was sure he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from leaning down and kissing your lips to chase away the cold frost from them, too.

Instead, he slipped your arms into the thick, warm fluff of pink feathered sleeves, pulling the lapels over each other to keep you warm.

The sleeves were too long for you, and the end of the coat touched the ground of the cabin.

He went to get you both some hot chocolate and brought it to you to sip on in warm cups. The blissed smile you smiled and the relaxed sigh you released after your first sip of the hot beverage put him in a better mood.

He settled himself beside you on the couch with his pink mug filled with his hot chocolate. His thigh touched yours. This time, you didn’t inch away from him as you usually did when he sat down beside you during meals or in inns.

Doflamingo would much rather have your lips to keep him warm, but he’d settle for hot chocolate. For now.

He took a careful sip, and his body relaxed. He closed his eyes, basking in the bliss, his forehead smooth, free of any stress.

Feathers settled around his left shoulder, and his left sleeve fell over his arm.

When he turned to look down on you, a teasing comment on his tongue and a grin on his lips, you were looking up at him, and your eyes rendered his thoughts into a disarray.

“So you aren’t cold,” you said, lifting your arm high and stretching it all the way to adjust the left side of his coat atop his shoulder, which consequently meant you got closer to him, until your left shoulder leaned against his chest; if you leaned a bit further, you’d be nestled under his right arm.

“How do you walk with this?” you ask him, fussing over the coat. “It’s heavy.”

“It’s only nine kilograms.” he said. It was a comforting weight on his back; he was used to having it draped over his shoulders.

You deadpan at him, then, after a moment, say, “No wonder your neck’s starting to crane.”

“Drink your hot chocolate,” he said.

You snickered. “Yes, captain.”

You hugged the right part of his feather coat to yourself, draping it over you, covering your legs and entire body in the pink feathers. Doflamingo wondered if you liked the lingering scent of his cologne on the coat.

“It’s warm,” you whispered, closing your eyes, peaceful.

Doflamingo slipped his left arm into the sleeve of his feather coat, draping the front of it the same way you did. The two of you were swathed together in his pink coat.

You were right. With you nestled against him and swathed in his coat, it was warm.

Doflamingo didn’t feel cold at all.

Taglist: @fanaticsnail @queenmimi2817 @dummyduck44 @daydreamer-in-training

#one piece #donquixote doflamingo #doflamingo #doflamingo x reader #donquixote doflamingo x reader #doflamingo x you #doffy x reader #doffy x you #x reader #one piece x reader #op doflamingo #my writing #physics writes #fizzy writes

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honnelander · 2 years ago

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tart

HERE WE GO EVERYONE. the long awaited jealous!Sanji fic!! AKA a prequel to the main go fish! storyline!! this fic takes place before the main events in go fish! but after they met at the Baratie. and don't worry, part 3 for the main series will be on the way. enjoy!! request: i was wondering if you’d consider making a lil imagine/blurb about sanji being jealous of someone flirting with the reader? like imagine zoro and the reader just talking and then zoro suddenly leans closer and whispers to her “it seems we’ve got an audience” or smth like that

WARNINGS: none

word count: 3.7k

pairing: jealous opla!sanji x fem!reader

summary: Sanji watches Zoro and reader talk and gets jealous. Nami tries to calm him down but fails.

go fish! series: part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 masterlist

taglist: @mischiefmanaged71 @smolracoon25 @smol-book-nerd @shuujin @amanda08319 @nimtano @your-platonic-gay-lover @lovelymrvl @whiskeypowder @jovialcat123 @nimtano @xtigerlily @shadowwolf1864 @quixscentsposts @guidingstarsstuff @ateliefloresdaprimavera

“Reading that garbage again?” a voice called out.

At hearing the question, you glanced up from your well-worn copy of Pride and Prejudice, your favorite book, only to see a calm Zoro casually stroll over to you with a hint of amusement on his face.

You playfully rolled your eyes. “Don’t knock it till you try it, oh great sword master,” you playfully jabbed as you shook out the book to him as he leaned his back against the ship’s front railing, resting his elbows on top of it. “The almighty Zoro isn’t allergic to reading, is he?”

Zoro snorted, glancing down at your cross-legged position on top of a crate before returning his sights to the Going Merry’s deck and the open ocean. “Yeah, I am allergic,” he agreed. “Allergic to reading that monstrosity you call a book.”

“Ooo, ‘monstrosity’. That’s a mighty big word for a non-reader like yourself, Zoro. Good job,” you teased as you marked your page before closing the book and joining your friend in looking across the deck and out towards the ocean.

The green-haired swordsman crossed his arms. “I read.”

“Mmhm,” you hummed, not convinced. “Sure you do.”

“I do,” he defended in a gruff voice.

“Oh yeah? Here, I’ll make it easy for you: tell me about one book you’ve read.”

Zoro scoffed. “I can tell you about way more than one.”

You couldn’t help the surprised noise that came out of you. “Oh, yeah? ’More than one’?” you asked with a raised brow and glanced up at your fellow straw hat, trying to wipe off the grin on your face.

You were certainly surprised that Zoro has read more than one book in his lifetime, but you weren’t surprised that he took your earlier question as a challenge. Classic Zoro, you thought in amusement. The guy could never pass up a challenge, no matter what it was about.

So, you repositioned yourself on your crate, making yourself comfortable for the discussion ahead. “Alright, come on,” you said and sat up straighter, urging Zoro on, “let’s hear it. Tell me all about them.”

From the back of the ship, on the upper deck above the kitchen, a certain chef took a long drag on his cigarette as he watched you and his least favorite swordsman be engrossed in conversation. Sanji removed the butt of his cigarette from his mouth with his thumb and index finger, keeping the smoke in his lungs for as long as he could, before slowly exhaling the smoke from his nostrils, his eyes never leaving the two of you.

“Daaamn, Sanji,” Usopp drawled as he messed with the sails on the ship’s mast nearby, glancing at the chef for a second before returning to his knots. “You look like a smoking dragon. All ferocious and mean. And....extra smokey.”

Sanji’s gaze didn’t budge, Usopp’s words not fazing the cook in the slightest. “Oh yeah? And what of it knot-boy?” he asked with a slight edge to his words, taking another drag on his cigarette and exhaling through his lips.

At Sanji’s snarky question, Usopp recoiled and looked back at Sanji more closely with a confused expression. It was rare for Sanji to lose his cool or be in a bad mood for no reason, unless he was going back and forth in an argument with Zoro but even then, the blonde chef usually took those in stride with a smile, much to Zoro’s annoyance, so this was new.

“Aren’t those things supossed to calm you down?” Usopp asked as he nodded to the cigarette in the cook’s hand.

“I am calm,” Sanji rebuked a little too quickly to be true.

Usopp then noticed how intent Sanji’s stare was towards something at the front of the ship and raised an eyebrow. Whatever he was staring at must be pissing him off because the chef’s gaze looked absolutely lethal. What the hell could be making him so mad? Usopp followed Sanji’s gaze, looked towards the front of the ship, and saw....y/n and Zoro talking?

To Usopp, it looked like they were just having a normal conversation, but when he saw y/n laugh at something Zoro said, hitting his arm with a grin and Zoro having a slight smile, he heard Sanji scoff loudly in disgust and mutter something under his breath.

And in that moment, it dawned on Usopp what was up, and it was hard for him to contain his shit eating grin: Sanji was jealous. Sanji was jealous of y/n and Zoro. To Usopp, it looked like a completely normal conversation between friends since he knew of y/n’s affections for the blonde cook. But to Sanji? It probably seemed like a complete flirt fest, and he was jealous.

Up until this point Usopp had thought y/n’s crush was only one sided. Sure, he’s had his suspicions ever since Sanji seemed to stare at y/n more often than not, but Usopp was still just a guy at the end of the day, so he never considered if Sanji might actually have feelings for y/n too.

But now? Oh boy- Usopp was all caught up to speed and he couldn’t wait to meddle in their budding relationship and tease the heck out of them both for it (when the time was right, of course).

Usopp looked back over at Sanji and wiped off his grin as best he could. “You say somethin’ Sanji?” he asked innocently, knowing damn well the chef said absolutely nothing. “I thought I heard you mutter something.”

Sanji flicked the ashes off his cigarette. “No.”

“Oh. Must just be the wind then...”

Suddenly, y/n’s laughter could be heard from the ship’s front and Sanji nearly snarled in disgust and shook his head. “What the-” Sanji started but let out an exasperated sigh. “He’s not even funny,” Sanji complained before taking another hit on his cigarette.

Usopp couldn’t help himself, he had to poke the bear. “Who, Zoro? I think he’s funny.”

The blonde chef let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, funny looking.”

He also had to twist the knife. “Well, y/n seems to think he’s funny.”

Sanji chuckled to himself and stayed quiet for a moment, contemplating Usopp’s words. “You know what? It doesn’t matter,” he muttered and took one last drag of his cigarette before putting it out and immediately lighting up a fresh one.

Unbeknown to the cook and slingshot fighter, standing underneath them and near the tangerine trees was the Going Merry’s orange-haired navigator, who had heard their whole conversation.

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

“Zoro!” You laughed loudly and hit your crewmate on his bicep. “Reading books on how to dismember your opponents doesn’t count as real reading!”

A ghost of a smile appeared on Zoro’s face as he raised an eyebrow at you. “Says you. Can you tell me fifty different ways on how to cut up a body? No? I didn’t think so.”

“Fair enough,” you relented good naturedly with a small laugh as you shook your head. “Remind me to never get on your bad side.”

A comfortable silence fell over you both as you let out a small sigh, watching the waves crash.

After a few quiet beats, however, you felt Zoro lean into your personal space as he lowly murmured, “Don’t look now, but it seems like we have an audience.”

You blinked in confusion as your eyebrows pulled together. “What? An audience? Where?” Completely disregarding Zoro’s instructions, you immediately started looking around the ship. “Watching what?”

“Us,” Zoro said simply and returned to his full height.

You shook your head in disbelief. “What? Us? Now who would be watching-” you started to say but the rest of your sentence died in your throat when you saw piercing blue eyes staring right you both. “...us?” you finished slowly.

Sanji? Sanji was your audience? But- why? What? You were so confused. Even from this far away, you could tell something was off with him. His posture was stiff and the usual smile that adorned his features whenever he saw you was nowhere to be seen.

“When did he get here? I didn’t know he was on deck...” you trailed off, about to move to hop off the crate and make your way over to Sanji to see what the matter with him was when something stopped you.

Before you could hop off the crate, you saw Sanji put out his cigarette and make his way off the deck and head down into the kitchen, not sparing you another glance. As you made your way across the deck, about to follow him into the kitchen, Usopp quickly called out to you from up on the ship’s mast, asking for your help with knot tying since ‘yours were so much better than his’. You agreed with a small sigh, not wanting Usopp to struggle by himself, so you made your way to the mast and started climbing, but not before sparing the entryway to the kitchen one last glance.

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Sanji flittered around, grabbing random ingredients he saw at first glance. Mushrooms? Grabbed. A block of cheese? Sure. Corn? Ok. Tomatoes? Sure, whatever.

As he looked down at the growing pile of ingredients on the counter, he stopped for a second to examine the pile, putting his hands in his pockets. What the hell was he supposed to make out of this? He didn’t know. He couldn’t think straight, and it was bothering the absolute hell out of him. The kitchen had always been his sanctuary, a place where he could always rely on to decompress and escape from his thoughts as he got swept away in the act of cooking that came so naturally to him. Usually.

But today? His natural instincts weren’t there. He felt his chef’s mind drawing up a blank on how to mix all of these items together and the longer he stood there, the more ticked off he became. On a normal day, he’d have thought up of 15 different dishes he could make and already have been busy at work making one of those ideas come to life. But now? There was nothing. No ideas swirling around in his head, nothing.

He could feel his face twist up in irritation the longer he was standing there until finally, he let out a short, brusque sigh, muttering, “Now what the fuck am I supposed to do with all this?”

“You’re the chef, aren’t you supposed to figure that out or something?”

The blonde chef glanced up from the pile and saw Nami casually strolling in from the deck and up to the counter opposite of him, hands clasped behind her back, with a curious eyebrow raised.

Instantly, to cover up his sour mood, the cook plastered on a fake smile. “Well, it seems my mind is a little blank at the moment, Darling. Why don’t you come over here and help me come up with an idea or two?” he offered with a wink, taking his hands out to lean against the counter.

But Nami saw right through him. “I’m good, thanks,” she declined bluntly. Nami wasn’t sure when she had become the Going Merry’s pseudo-therapist, especially since this crew hadn't been together for more than 3 months at this point, but someone had to be, and she figured the only way to get Sanji to talk right now would be if he was doing something he loved: cooking. “Actually,” she started offhandedly, “I have a request for you.”

Now that immediately got the cook’s attention. “Oh?” he asked with a raised brow, straightening up as he dropped the fake flirty persona.

“Yeah,” she said aloud, sounding more like she was trying to convince herself that she actually had a request for the cook. From behind her back, she pulled out a couple of tangerines. With a slight smile and raised brow, she said matter-of-factly, “If I remember correctly, I believe I was told I could ask for a tangerine tart anytime I’d like?”

A genuine smile came across Sanji’s face at that, his eyes crinkling at the corners, as he laughed with a nod. “The Madam is correct.” He took the fruits from Nami’s hands and placed them on the counter, pushing away his bizarre pile of ingredients to make room. “One tangerine tart coming right up,” he said and started bustling around the kitchen with purpose this time, pulling out the necessary ingredients, a far cry from his movements a couple of minutes ago.

Seeing Sanji occupied, Nami took a seat at the table, sitting where she had left her charting journal and reading glasses from breakfast that morning. She opened her journal back up and put her glasses on, flipping through the pages and resuming her sketch of her latest map.

Both of them worked in silence for a few minutes, both engrossed in their respective activities until Nami broke it. Before speaking, she snuck a glance at the chef, making sure he was preoccupied before she started prodding and sure enough, he was. Perfect.

“You know, I never told anyone this before,” Nami started, laying the groundwork for Sanji to open up, creating a tit for tat sort of thing, “but I actually love tangerine tarts.”

Sanji huffed slightly with a slight smile, not looking up from his work. “Oh yeah? Well, be prepared to fall in love with them all over again.” He started pouring heavy cream into a separate bowl, adding sugar before whisking it all together. “Even Zeff used to say I made a mean tangerine tart.”

Nami hummed. “Maybe you can make Zoro fall in love with them too,” she said casually, sneaking a quick look at Sanji, only to see him press his lips together in a firm line and start to whisk the cream harder at the mention of the swordsman. “Or y/n,” she added quickly. “I don’t think she’s ever had one either.”

At the mention of you, Sanji’s face and motions relaxed slightly. “Yeah,” he agreed. “I...think you’re right about that.”

The orange-haired girl rotated her journal ninety degrees. She decided to prod a little harder. “I think I saw them talking earlier.”

Sanji simply hummed in agreement, cracking eggs into a bowl, staying silent. With the third egg, however, he cracked it a little too hard on the counter, causing the raw egg contents to splatter everywhere and onto his black blazer.

“Ah- fucking hell,” he muttered in disgust, throwing the broken eggshell into the trash before cleaning his hands off in the sink.

Nami looked up from her work and quirked an eyebrow at her crewmate. “You good?”

The blonde cook shook his head once with a sardonic smile. “Never better,” he quipped.

Ok, she couldn’t do this dance anymore. Nami closed her journal and took off her glasses, looking straight at him. “Alright, you want to tell me what the hell is going on? You’re acting weird, even for you.” Sanji opened his mouth to protest but Nami spoke before he could. “And don’t lie to me.”

Mouth still open, Sanji exhaled slowly and deflated. “I- I’m fine.”

She rolled her eyes. “Sanji-”

Upon hearing his name, Sanji blinked and raised his eyebrows in surprise. Nami rarely called him by his name.

“Cut the bullshit,” she continued. “I heard your conversation with Usopp and you certainly didn’t sound ‘fine’.”

Sanji was caught red-handed. With what exactly? He didn’t really know but he did know he was caught in a lie because he definitely did not feel fine. He shrugged his shoulders, at a loss for words. “I...” he sighed and took off his ruined blazer, draping it over the back of an empty chair, rolling up his sleeves as he avoided Nami’s expectant stare. He grabbed a dirty rag and started cleaning the egg off the counter. “I don’t know...”

“Sanji, you can barely crack an egg.”

That brought out a short bark of laughter from the chef. “Yeah,” he relented. “Obviously.”

“Is this because of your jealously over y/n and Zoro?”

“My- my what? My jealously?” he sputtered and scoffed, still not looking Nami in the eye. “I, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why on earth would I be jealous over that stick in the mud?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Nami played along, tapping her temple, pretending she was deep in thought. “Maybe because you saw and heard them laughing from all the way across the ship?” she pointed out. When Sanji tried to wave off her accusations with an unconvincing smile, Nami decided to just go in for the kill. If Sanji wasn’t going to admit his obvious liking towards her female crewmate and friend himself, then she’d have to do it for him. “Maybe....maybe because you might have a little crush on y/n?” she offered with a raised brow, staring right at him.

“Wh-what?? A crush?” Sanji quickly rebuked, jerking his head back. “What are we? Little kids?”

From her spot at the table, Nami could swear she saw a faint dusting of pink appear on his cheeks. She smirked to herself. She got him. “Well,” she shrugged, “it doesn’t matter how old we get, we all get crushes from time to time.”

You? A crush? Sanji shook his head as he resumed making the tangerine tart. Labeling whatever feelings he had for you as simply a ‘juvenile crush’ didn’t feel right to him. You were more than that, and you didn’t deserve to be labeled as such. “No, she’s not a crush.”

“Oh, so you like-like her?” Nami said like it was obvious. “You like her as more than just a friend.”

“I-” Sanji started but stopped himself and sighed, feeling his irritation grow the longer this conversation went on. Now even the kitchen wasn’t bringing him peace? First, smoking and now this? What was next? “Why does it matter? All of a sudden, my love life is interesting to you and up for debate? I don’t remember asking for your opinion.”

Nami watched his jaw tense and his body become stiff as he started zesting the tangerines. Clearly whatever feelings Sanji was dealing with, he wasn’t ready to openly talk about them, so she decided to back off.

She put her hands up in surrender, slumping back in her chair as she said, “Hey, I’m...I’m sorry. You’re right.” Deciding to give the chef his space, she gathered her belongings and stood up, making her way to the counter. “If you ever need to...talk or anything, I’m here,” she offered quietly. In a normal tone, she added, “Let me know when the tarts are ready. I really do want y/n and Zoro to try one.”

Speaking of the devil, you came into the kitchen from the deck, eyes lighting up at the sight of Sanji cooking. Seeing Sanji cook was one of your favorite things and you always loved to guess what he was making. “Sanji! Ooo, what are you making?”

Nami watched as Sanji’s whole demeanor change at the sight of you, like a switch being flipped on. She couldn’t help but smile knowingly between you both. “I’ll be in my room,” she announced before making her way out of the kitchen, leaving you both alone.

Sanji had a wide smile, shoulders relaxing as his eyes lit up. “Why don’t you guess? Give it your best shot.”

“Oh! I love this game. Ok, let’s see,” you said as you surveyed the ingredients laid out before you. “I see flour, sugar, butter and tangerines...are you making a tangerine cake or something?”

Whatever jealousy or anger he had been feeling all day just instantly disappeared once he was with you. He felt like himself again, all carefree and lighthearted as he chuckled at your guess. “Not quite, Missus. But nice try,” he said as he looked into your eyes with a crooked smile.

Missus. You felt your heart skip a beat at the nickname and you felt your insides became all warm. You hoped your face didn’t give away your swooning. He's never called you that before and you hoped to God that he would never stop.

“Ah, my bad,” you laughed embarrassedly. “What are you making then?”

“I, am making a tangerine tart,” he proudly stated as he grabbed another egg, perfectly cracking it this time. “At the request of the ship’s navigator.”

A wide grin broke out across your face. “No way!!” you squealed eagerly, causing Sanji to laugh. “I’ve always wanted to try one!”

The blonde chef nodded. “Yes, she did mention that actually.” After a beat, he added, “I hope you like it.”

“Of course I will,” you said without hesitation. “I know I haven’t known you for that long, but it seems like everything you make is phenomenal. You’re the best cook I know.”

Normally, nearly everyone compliments his cooking (except for Zoro) and he never really thought anything of it. He knew was the best cook in the East Blue and someday, the whole world when he found the All Blue. But hearing that compliment from you? How you said it so easily and with such certainty? He felt a funny, warm feeling deep within his chest and when he looked at you, just like how you knew for certain that he was the best chef around, he knew right then that you really were the most beautiful woman he’s ever known.

So, yeah. Nami was right. He guessed he did have a little crush on you, or ‘like-liked’ you- whatever she was saying.

“Do you mind if I watch?”

Your question broke the little staring trance he was in, blinking and tearing his gaze away from you as he tried to refocus on the task before him. He truly had to make sure this was the best tart he’s ever made.

He nodded, perhaps a little too eagerly. God, he was probably acting like an excited puppy, but he couldn’t help himself. “Of course you can,” he agreed with a small smile.

As you pulled up a stool to sit on the opposite side of the counter, Sanji realized something: him cooking in the kitchen with you sitting nearby? That’s something he could get used to and get used to very quickly.

#sanji x reader #sanji vinsmoke x reader #sanji x y/n #opla!sanji x reader #sanji #sanji fanfiction #sanji vinsmoke #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece fanfiction #one piece live action #opla!sanji #opla fanfiction #fluff #jealously #mutual pining #idiots in love #go fish! au #friends to lovers

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writingoddess1125 · 2 years ago

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Roger and Jessica Rabbit Effect

Buggy Headcanon. Buggy x Reader

Support me on Kofi

Prequel <<<

• This Goofy Motherfucker definitely has a hot wife no one knows about-

• As his personal seamstress you tailor his clothes and make his costumes for all his best costumes. However he adores you, You are his everything.

• Buggy never talks about you, for good reason since he doesn't want any eyes to fall onto you and put you in a dangerous spotlight. Many Pirates didn't talk about their S/O and it was always smart to not to.

• You however were fairly ignorant of the pirate food chain. So you did gush about your husband but no one knew exactly who he was- some mysterious drifter that seemed to appear and disapear like the wind.

• It being a total accident how you were discovered.

• The Strawhat Pirates of course were the ones to discover you by accident when they landed in a small island in need of fabric for the ship sails. The dock master telling them your shop most likely had the fabrics needed.

• Once in your shop you treated them kindly and ignored the obvious flirting from Sanji who was enamored by you.

• "I have just the fabric for your ships" You said cheerfully, not noticing Zoro who was staring hard at the gold necklace that hung around your neck.

• "You're associated with the Buggy Pirates-" Zoro stated as he pointed to the necklace seeing Buggy's Jolly Roger stamped on ots pendent.

• "Hm? Oh I suppose, I'm not apart of the crew or anything but my husband is" You say cheerfully as you pull out some bundles of fabric.

• "Your husband?" They all question now highly interested, Such a pretty person like you being married to anyone apart of Buggy's crew was surprising.

• You giggle at their curious faces finding it adorable. "Yes my Husband, The Captian himself Buggy"

• "..."

• "YOURE BUGGY'S WIFE!?!" They all scream in total terror at how You could be married to that juggling buffoon

• Sanji has an crisis in the corner of your shop as he tries to figure out how he is still single yet Buggy the Clown is married to a hottie!?

• "D-Did he brain wash you? Threaten you?" Nami begs, Holding your hand like you needed some form of comfort.

• "No?- of course not" You say confused and raising a brow at the young pirates all so confused.

• "But you're so pretty, and Nice?-" Usopp points out.

• "Well he's very romantic and sweet" You gush, the youthful pirates staring at you with a deadpan stare.

• "Buggy- Romantic and Sweet?" They all say in disbelief unison.

• "That and he makes me laugh"

• Blushing you go on to explain how loving your sweet husband was, how even though he was out to see most of the time at sea he would constantly send gifts, love letters and more. The crew in shock at this.

• You were such a sweet person, the Strawhats all couldn't help but adore you. Even offering them dinner which they didn't refuse and spending a night in the spare rooms of your home above the shop-

• Seeing the photos of you and Buggy together also adding as a confirmation of your stories. By morning you sent them on their way in new clothes some fabrics for the ships sails, and some leftovers you insisted they take.

• "You kids have a safe journey!" You chime out as the group leaves waving bye and even a few giving some hugs goodbye. Luffy smiling widely at you as you wave to him-

• "Oh before I forget. Would you mind giving this to Buggy next time you see him? You seem to run into him a lot" You say cheerfully as you hold out a blue wrapped box to the young Captian.

• Luffy smiled at this as he took the small box and pocketed it.

"Of course Mrs (Y/N)!" He said cheerfully skipping away with the rest of the crew to return to sea.

• It would be about a month before they crossed paths with Buggy-

• "Straw Hat!!" Buggy yelled as he saw them, his head floating from his body in normal flashy fashion.

• After a mild confrontation were as per usual Buggy got his ass handed to him, The Strawhats were about to leave when Luffy remembered something.

• "Oh- By the way Mrs (Y/N) told us to give you this and-" Luffy says calmly as he reached into his pockets remebering the gift box you handed him- Buggy's whole body going as stiff as a board as he turns to the strawhats with his pupils as small as possible and his body seeming to come apart at the seams.

• It was the first time Luffy or anyone felt a threatening Haki from Buggy starting to drip out like a dam about to burst, in seconds the Clown was holding Luffy by his shirt with a great force.

• Zoro hand started to rest on their weapons as for the first time in a long time Buggy looked- Threatening?

• "Who told you about (Y/N)" Buggy hissed dangerously- Luffy gearing up for another fight one far more serious but then he saw it-

• Buggy was angry/scared and thinking they were a threat to your safety. Luffy pulling out the gift box calmly and smiling.

"Don't worry your secret is safe"

• Buggy stared at Luffy before his free hand took the box and dropped the Strawhat pirate, quickly tearing open the blue box and looking inside. His eyes softening as he saw a new set of gloves inside and a bandana. Slipping off his worn white gloves for the brand new set you'd sown. As well as reading the scribbled note you'd left for him- A crooked smile on his lips at your handwriting and the terrible Nickname you gave him. 'Buggy Boo'

• He glares at the Strawhats his normal fashion. "GET OUT OF HERE STRAWHATS!' He yelled loudly stomping his food dramatically

• A thought crossing all their minds-

• 'Has he been just goofing off this whole time to keep you safe?-"

#x reader #one peice x reader #one piece #one peice live action #buggy one piece #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy thoughts #buggy headcanons #buggy the clown #Buggy x wife reader

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2b4st4r · 5 days ago

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Can you do Zoro x female reader where they are hit with a devil fruit power and are now brainwashed into believing that chopper is their child for a couple of weeks. Like actual blood child, as if they birthed and raised chopper themselves. Reader and Zoro already had feelings for each other, but havent confessed yet, and are now having to deal with this mess. Poor chopper having to deal with his "new parents" till this wears off, and the crew being hysterical about the whole situation.

Forced Family

Zoro x Reader

Words: 9,041

Warnings: Temporary Mind Alteration, Implied Non-Consensual Actions (due to mind alteration), emotional distress, and mild violence, and use of y/n, FEMALE READER.

Requests open

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

The Thousand Sunny sailed under a sky painted with the vibrant hues of a new day, the salty spray of the Grand Line a familiar kiss on Y/n's face. As the Straw Hat Pirates' Quartermaster, their days were a symphony of organized chaos – ensuring supplies were stocked, negotiating with eccentric island merchants, and meticulously logging every berry spent and earned. Yet, their role extended beyond the ledger and the storeroom. As the Master-at-Arms, Y/n was responsible for the maintenance and readiness of all weapons on board, a task they approached with a quiet intensity that mirrored their own formidable skill.

Y/n’s relationship with each Straw Hat was a thread woven into the very fabric of the crew. With Luffy, it was an easy camaraderie built on shared dreams and an understanding of boundless freedom. They often found themselves laughing at the captain's antics, a quiet smile playing on their lips as they watched him chase a new adventure. Nami and Y/n shared a pragmatic bond, often poring over charts and supply lists, their shared sense of responsibility a grounding force amidst the crew's eccentricities. Y/n admired Nami's unwavering determination and sharp wit, and Nami respected Y/n's meticulous nature and unwavering loyalty.

Usopp often sought Y/n out for advice on new weapon designs or to boast about his latest invention, finding an appreciative and discerning ear in the Master-at-Arms. Y/n, in turn, found Usopp's boundless creativity and occasional bursts of unexpected courage endearing. Sanji always ensured Y/n had a steaming mug of their favorite tea during late-night inventory checks, his chivalry extending to a respectful acknowledgment of their tireless work. Their banter was light and frequent, Sanji's flamboyant compliments met with Y/n's dry wit.

Chopper would often bring Y/n newly gathered medicinal herbs, a silent offering of his care, and Y/n would always make time to listen to his latest medical discoveries. Y/n's calm demeanor was a comfort to the easily flustered doctor. Robin and Y/n shared a quiet understanding, often found reading in comfortable silence on the deck, a shared appreciation for knowledge and history binding them. Their conversations were often profound, delving into topics that went beyond the immediate adventures.

Franky and Y/n frequently collaborated on ship upgrades and weapon enhancements, their combined mechanical prowess leading to some of the Sunny's most ingenious features. Y/n appreciated Franky's unbridled enthusiasm and innovative spirit, while Franky admired Y/n's precision and attention to detail. Brook would serenade Y/n with a melancholic tune, often leading to a shared moment of reflection or a burst of laughter at his skull jokes. Y/n enjoyed Brook's unique perspective and his unwavering spirit. Jinbei, the newest addition, found a reliable and steadfast presence in Y/n, often exchanging quiet observations about the sea and the crew. Y/n respected Jinbei's wisdom and strength, and Jinbei recognized Y/n's quiet resolve.

But it was with Roronoa Zoro that Y/n's connection hummed with an unspoken electricity. Their interactions were often clipped, a language of nods and shared glances, yet each held a depth of unspoken understanding. They sparred together with a brutal honesty, the clang of steel on steel a familiar rhythm that resonated deep within them. During these training sessions, their eyes would meet across crossed blades, a spark igniting in the silent space between them. Y/n admired Zoro’s unwavering dedication to his dream, his formidable strength, and the surprising moments of genuine care he showed, often disguised beneath a gruff exterior. Zoro, in turn, was captivated by Y/n's quiet confidence, their sharp mind, and the fluid grace with which they moved, whether wielding a weapon or meticulously organizing supplies. A mutual, unspoken admiration simmered beneath the surface, a delicate tension that added an intriguing layer to their already intricate dance aboard the Thousand Sunny. Both were too stubborn, too focused, and perhaps, too afraid to acknowledge the blossoming feelings that pulsed beneath the surface, a silent promise hanging in the salty air of the Grand Line.

The anchor dropped with a familiar thud, signaling the Thousand Sunny's arrival at yet another uncharted island in the New World. This one felt… different. The air, though carrying the usual salty tang, held a stillness that was almost unsettling. From the deck, you could see a small, clustered town nestled amidst strangely twisted trees, and the few figures moving about had a languid, almost detached air about them.

"Something feels a bit strange about this place," Nami murmured, her brow furrowed as she scanned the island with her keen eyes. "Keep your guard up, everyone."

As Quartermaster, the need for resupply was always on your mind. "We're running low on a few key items," you announced, consulting your meticulously kept list. "I should head to town and see what they have." You were generally comfortable handling such tasks on your own, your skills with a blade more than sufficient to deter any opportunistic trouble. You were kind by nature, always willing to lend a hand or offer a comforting word, but you were also fiercely capable and self-reliant.

Nami, however, her observation skills honed by years navigating treacherous waters and even more treacherous people, didn't seem entirely comfortable with the idea of you going alone this time. "Y/n," she said, her gaze thoughtful, "this island… the people seem a little… off. Maybe it's just my nerves, but I'd feel better if Zoro went with you."

Zoro, who had been honing his swords nearby, his movements as precise and deadly as a striking viper, paused, his dark eye flicking towards you and then to Nami. He didn't comment, but you could sense a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze.

"It's alright, Nami, I can handle it," you started, not wanting to pull Zoro away from his training, especially since you knew how seriously he took it.

"Humph," Zoro finally grunted, sheathing Wado Ichimonji. "Doesn't matter to me. Lead the way, Quartermaster." There was a subtle shift in his stance, a readiness that spoke volumes despite his seemingly indifferent tone.

Nami sighed in relief. "Thanks, Zoro. Just… be careful, both of you. Something about this place gives me the creeps."

You met Zoro's gaze for a fleeting moment, a silent acknowledgment passing between you. A small, almost imperceptible warmth spread through you at the thought of him accompanying you. It wasn’t just the added security; there was a quiet comfort in his presence, a feeling of unspoken understanding that always lingered between you.

"Alright," you said, a subtle nod to Nami. "Let's go see what this town has to offer." As you turned to head towards the shore, you could feel Zoro falling into step beside you, his large frame a reassuring presence at your side. The familiar weight of your own weapons at your hip felt a little less significant with him there, and as you both set off towards the peculiar little town, a strange mix of anticipation and unease settled over you. You couldn't shake the feeling that this seemingly simple resupply trip might turn out to be anything but.

The path from the shore to the town was overgrown with thick, unfamiliar foliage, some plants sporting vibrant, almost unnaturally bright blossoms, while others were a dull, sickly green. The air grew heavier with a strange, sweet scent the further you walked, a fragrance that was both alluring and vaguely unsettling.

"You smell that?" you asked, turning your head slightly to Zoro. Your voice was low, a natural caution in your tone.

He grunted in response, his hand already resting on the hilt of his Wado Ichimonji, his single eye scanning the surroundings with a familiar intensity. "Something's off," he echoed Nami's earlier sentiment, his voice a low rumble. "Smells like… too much. Like it's trying to cover something up."

You nodded, a shiver tracing its way down your spine despite the warm, humid air. "My thoughts exactly." You picked up your pace slightly, eager to get to the town and finish your business.

As you walked, the silence between you was punctuated only by the rustling of leaves and the distant, indistinct sounds from the town. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, not with Zoro. With him, there was a shared understanding, a sense of quiet companionship that transcended the need for words. Still, the underlying tension of your unspoken feelings thrummed beneath the surface, a constant, subtle hum in the air around you.

Suddenly, a small, dark shadow darted across the path ahead. Your hand instinctively went to the hilt of your own blade, but Zoro was quicker, his sword half-drawn before the shadow even registered. It was just a small, scurrying creature, resembling a large, dark rodent.

"Relax," he muttered, though his eye remained sharp. He re-sheathed his sword with a soft click.

"Just a little jumpy, I suppose," you admitted, offering a small, sheepish smile. You dropped your hand from your weapon. "Nami's warning got to me."

Zoro let out a low "Hmph," a sound that could mean anything from agreement to amusement. He didn't look at you, but you felt his presence, a solid, reassuring anchor beside you. The air around him always felt… steady. Strong. It was a feeling you found yourself increasingly drawn to.

As you neared the town, the strange quiet deepened. The small, wooden buildings looked like they'd been built haphazardly, leaning at odd angles. The few villagers you saw were indeed "off," as Nami had put it. They moved slowly, their eyes vacant, and they didn't seem to acknowledge your presence, even when you passed directly by them. They were like puppets on slack strings.

"This is really strange," you whispered, pulling your list from your pocket but feeling less and less inclined to actually shop. You glanced at Zoro, and for the first time, his gaze met yours directly. There was a rare intensity in his eye, a hint of concern that was rarely visible.

"Stay close," he said, his voice softer than usual, barely a whisper. His hand, subtly, moved closer to yours, almost brushing your fingers as you walked. The unspoken current between you flared, a brief, hot pulse. You quickly looked away, your cheeks warming, but you didn't move your hand. The almost-touch was a tantalizing, frustrating, beautiful thing.

You continued through the deserted-feeling streets, the tension between you and the unnerving atmosphere of the town building with every step. You needed to get those supplies, but something here felt deeply, fundamentally wrong. And with Zoro by your side, the air was thick with more than just the sweet, cloying scent of strange flowers. It was thick with unspoken words, with a silent yearning that neither of you dared to name.

You and Zoro pressed on, the unsettling quiet of the town amplifying with every step. The main street, which should have been bustling with activity, was eerily still. Shop doors hung ajar, revealing interiors that appeared perfectly preserved – baskets overflowing with vibrant fruits, shelves stacked with colorful fabrics, tools glinting in the dim light. But there was no one. Not a single soul.

"Hello?" you called out, your voice echoing strangely in the deserted space. You felt a prickle of unease at the lack of response. "Is anyone here? Shopkeeper?"

Zoro, ever pragmatic, strode directly into what looked like a small grocer's. You followed, your eyes scanning the shelves for the items on your list. A display of bright red apples caught your eye. They looked perfectly ripe, glistening under a shaft of sunlight that somehow seemed too artificial.

"Seems like everyone just… vanished," you murmured, reaching for an apple. You pulled your hand back just before touching it, a strange intuition stopping you.

Zoro, meanwhile, had been peering intently at a stack of what looked like freshly baked bread. "This is a waste of time," he grumbled, his voice cutting through the silence. He picked up a loaf. "Just take what we need. They're clearly not here to sell it."

"Zoro, no!" you protested immediately, your quartermaster's ethics kicking in. "We can't just steal from them, even if they're not around. That's not how we operate." You might be pirates, but you had your own code, and wanton thievery wasn't part of it, especially when no direct threat was present.

He sighed, dropping the bread with a soft thud that seemed overly loud in the quiet shop. "Fine. But we're not waiting around forever. This place feels wrong."

You hesitated, your gaze lingering on the vibrant apples. The silence stretched, the air growing heavier, almost suffocating. Something compelled you to try, just to confirm. With a deep breath, you reached out and firmly grasped for one of the red fruits.

Your fingers passed right through it.

Your eyes widened in disbelief. No resistance, no tangible form – just air where the apple should have been. You looked around, your heart beginning to pound. The vibrant colors of the fruits, the intricate patterns on the fabrics, the solid-looking walls of the shop – they all seemed to shimmer, ever so slightly.

"Zoro," you breathed, the word barely a whisper, your voice laced with sudden urgency. You grabbed his arm, your grip tight. "Zoro, it's an illusion! This whole place… it's not real!"

As if on cue, the world around you began to waver. The edges of the shop, the shelves, the apples, even the street outside, started to blur and distort, like a painting melting in the rain. The vibrant hues faded, replaced by ghostly, translucent outlines. The sweet, cloying scent vanished, replaced by the faint, familiar smell of the sea.

The unsettling quiet of the town morphed into a chilling, echoing silence as the illusion peeled away. You could feel Zoro's muscles tense under your hand, his single eye now wide with realization as the fabricated reality dissolved around you. The seemingly solid world was dissolving, revealing whatever lay beneath.

You looked around frantically, the dissolving town a swirling vortex of shimmering light and fading colors. Panic clawed at your throat. The perfectly arranged shops, the cobblestone streets, the peculiar villagers – all of it was dissolving into thin air, replaced by what appeared to be a vast, oppressive darkness.

Then you saw it – a flicker of movement, a deeper shade of black against the already encroaching gloom. A shadow.

A sharp pinch on your hand ripped a gasp from your lips. You looked down, your eyes wide with confusion, and saw nothing. No bite, no sting, no mark. Yet, an immediate wave of nausea washed over you. The world tilted, the faint outlines of the illusionary town spinning around you. You felt lightheaded, the ground swaying beneath your feet.

"Zo... Zoro..." you mumbled, your voice thin and reedy, your gaze fixed on your hand as if it held the answer to this sudden, crushing weakness.

Zoro’s worry was immediate, a tangible force that cut through the lingering traces of the illusion. His usual stoicism shattered, replaced by an raw, urgent concern that painted itself across his face. His hand instinctively shot out, steadying you as you swayed. "You're okay, you are okay," he said, his voice a low, rough rumble, far softer than you’d ever heard it. He didn’t seem to be talking to you as much as trying to convince himself, his grip tightening around your arm.

Your knees buckled. You went limp, your vision tunneling. Zoro moved instantly, catching you before you could hit the ground, gathering you into his arms. The scent of salt and steel, uniquely his, filled your senses even as darkness threatened to consume you. He knew he should let you go, knew he should be drawing his swords, ready to confront whatever unseen assailant had struck you. But he couldn't. He couldn't bring himself to just drop you. His resolve to fight warred with an overwhelming need to protect you, to ensure your safety above all else.

Just gently, he told himself, just put her down gently.

He lowered you carefully to the ground, his touch surprisingly tender despite the urgency of the moment. Your head rested on the strangely coarse earth beneath the dissolving illusion, your eyes fluttering closed. He straightened, his body instantly coiled, ready for battle, his hand already on the h hilt of Wado Ichimonji.

That's when he felt it. A sharp prick on his neck, mirroring the sensation you'd described on your hand. His fingers instinctively shot to the spot, but there was nothing there. Just a sudden, searing pain that quickly gave way to the same sickening lightheadedness that had stolen your strength. His vision blurred, the last vestiges of the illusionary town fading into an oppressive blackness.

Zoro felt the world tilt, the oppressive darkness pressing in on him. His muscles, usually steel-hard and responsive, began to go limp, betraying him. His vision blurred, the last flickers of the dissolving illusion replaced by swirling shadows. Panic, cold and sharp, cut through the haze of confusion. Protect her. The thought roared through his mind, a primal command overriding the sudden weakness.

With a monumental effort, he managed to pull Wado Ichimonji from its sheath, the familiar weight of the sword a faint comfort in his failing grasp. He tried to take a fighting stance, to brace himself against the unseen assailant, but his limbs felt heavy, distant. Numbness crept insidiously from his neck, spreading rapidly through his arms and legs. He swayed, his formidable balance deserting him. The ground, which had been solid just moments before, seemed to lurch beneath his feet.

He staggered, his resolve to fight warring with the relentless advance of the unknown poison. His grip on his sword loosened, his arm trembling uncontrollably. Every instinct screamed at him to stay upright, to defend Y/n, but his body was failing him. The darkness swelled, threatening to consume him entirely, and with a final, desperate lurch, he lost his footing. He collapsed, Wado Ichimonji clattering uselessly beside him as the blackness swallowed him whole.

A dull ache throbbed behind your eyes, a constant drumbeat against a canvas of unfamiliarity. Your eyelids felt dry, glued shut, but with a monumental effort, you forced them open. Your body was a symphony of soreness, every muscle protesting, every joint screaming in protest. You blinked, attempting to clear the haze from your vision, and as your surroundings slowly came into focus, a wave of confusion washed over you.

This wasn't the strange, fading town. This was the infirmary aboard the Thousand Sunny. The familiar scent of antiseptics and Chopper's unique medicinal herbs filled the air. But something was profoundly, terrifyingly wrong. A hollow ache bloomed in your chest, a feeling of searching for something, someone, vital. Where was Zoro? Was he okay?

You tried to sit up, a sharp wince escaping your lips as pain lanced through your side. Your limbs felt heavy, sluggish, but the desperate need to find Zoro spurred you on.

"Y/n! Please sit down! You'll just injure yourself more!"

The familiar, small voice cut through your muddled thoughts. Your eyes, still swimming with concern, met those of Chopper. He was standing by your bunk, his little hooves fidgeting with a clipboard, his face etched with worry. But as your gaze locked with his, the world shifted. The lingering confusion solidified into something else, something intensely, unequivocally real.

"My child," you whispered, the words escaping your lips before you could even process them. A profound, overwhelming love flooded your heart, a fierce protective instinct unlike anything you'd ever known. You reached out a trembling hand, a deep, maternal yearning gripping you. "Are you alright, my little one? Are you hurt?" The notion that this small, adorable reindeer was anything but your flesh and blood, your very own child, simply didn't exist in your mind.

The memory of a strong, steadfast presence, of calloused hands and a comforting scent, flickered through your altered mind. "And… your father?" you continued, your voice laced with fresh worry. "Is your father well? Where is he?" You were certain, with every fiber of your being, that Roronoa Zoro was not just your crewmate, but your devoted husband, the other half of your family. The concern for him was a desperate, agonizing knot in your stomach.

Chopper stood frozen, his little hooves gripping the clipboard so tightly his knuckles turned white. His wide, innocent eyes blinked rapidly as you, Y/n, a fierce and capable pirate, reached out and gently cupped his furry cheek. Your touch, usually firm and reassuring, was now impossibly tender, filled with an emotion that utterly bewildered him.

"There, there, my precious one," you murmured, your thumb stroking his fur. "It's alright. Mama's here."

Chopper’s jaw dropped. Mama? His brain, usually a whirlwind of medical knowledge and panicky deductions, seized up entirely. He was a reindeer! A doctor! He was definitely not a "child," especially not your child. And "Mama"? That wasn't even… He felt a flush of heat rise to his face, a mix of profound confusion and genuine fear.

Then, you leaned in, pressing a soft, maternal kiss to his forehead.

GASP!

Chopper literally levitated a few inches off the ground in sheer, unadulterated shock. His fur bristled. This was beyond odd. This was beyond a concussion. His mind, scrambling for a diagnosis, whirred through every medical text he'd ever read. But no fever, no head trauma, no obvious injury could account for this.

A Devil Fruit! The thought hit him like a cannonball. It had to be! Some insidious power, something they'd encountered on that strange island, had twisted your mind. Or… or was it a severe case of amnesia coupled with a delusion? But the way you looked at him, with such overwhelming maternal affection, felt too real, too deep to be just a simple bump on the head. He frantically searched his memory for any information on mind-altering abilities, his tiny heart pounding in his chest. His beloved Y/n, his sensible, reliable Y/n, was calling him "my child" and looking at him like he was her son. It was terrifying, and he had absolutely no idea what to do.

"There, there, my precious one," you murmured, your thumb stroking his fur. "It's alright. Mama's here."

Then, you leaned in, pressing a soft, maternal kiss to his forehead.

GASP!

Just as Chopper was about to launch into a full-blown medical panic, the infirmary door creaked open. Zoro stumbled in, leaning heavily against the doorframe for support. His face was pale, a thin sheen of sweat on his brow, and his movements were sluggish, like a marionette with tangled strings. But his eyes, though still a little glazed, immediately found you and Chopper.

The sight of you, your hand gently caressing Chopper's fur, ignited a familiar, fiercely protective instinct within him. The subtle influence of the unknown power had woven itself into the very fabric of his being, replacing logic with a profound, unshakeable conviction. This was his family. His wife. His child.

"Y/n," he rasped, his voice rough with lingering weakness but laced with an undeniable tenderness. He pushed off the doorframe, taking a shaky step towards you. "Are you alright? What happened?" His eyes, filled with a deep, loving concern, swept over you, searching for any sign of injury. He then looked at Chopper, a softer, almost proud glint in his gaze. "Is our son okay?"

Chopper, who had been on the verge of tears from confusion, froze again, his tiny jaw hanging open. "Our... son?" he squeaked, looking from you to Zoro and back again. The sheer, compounding absurdity of the situation sent his mind spiraling. Two of his most reliable crewmates, the toughest ones, were now completely convinced he was their child and they were married.

You, however, beamed at Zoro, a wave of relief washing over you at the sight of him. "Oh, Zoro! Thank goodness you're alright, my love," you said, your voice thick with emotion. You quickly tried to get up again, extending a hand towards him. "I was so worried about you, husband. I woke up here and you weren't with us. Our little one here," you gestured to Chopper with a loving glance, "was just telling me what happened."

Zoro’s eyes softened even further, a rare, gentle smile gracing his lips as he saw your outstretched hand. He stumbled the rest of the way, his large hand enveloping yours. "Never worry, Y/n. I'd always come back to you. And our son." He pulled you gently into a sitting embrace, his arm wrapping around your shoulders, a silent promise of protection in the gesture. He looked at Chopper again, a flicker of something akin to fatherly pride in his eye. "What exactly happened, Chopper? Are you both truly well?"

Chopper, trapped between two doting, completely deluded "parents," felt his fur stand on end. He was a doctor! He needed to figure this out! But how could he explain to his "Mama" and "Papa" that they were both victims of some bizarre, mind-altering attack? The air in the infirmary, usually a sanctuary of healing, now felt thick with a bizarre, familial delusion that only he seemed aware of.

As Zoro settled beside you, his arm a warm, solid weight around your waist, his gaze, usually so intense, softened to an almost unbearable tenderness. His eyes, in their altered reality, saw you not just as his crewmate, but as his beloved wife, the mother of his child. Leaning in, he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. It was a kiss born of a deep, comfortable familiarity, as if it were a daily ritual performed hundreds of times, a silent promise of enduring love.

When he pulled back, a rare, genuine smile stretched across his face – a smile that usually only made an appearance when he was fighting a truly challenging foe or indulging in a particularly good nap. He looked at Chopper, his smile widening. "You're a strong one, aren't you, little guy?" he rumbled, his voice laced with an affection that made Chopper's fur stand on end. "Just like your dad."

Chopper, his small brain reeling, felt a fresh wave of panic. He had to make them understand! "No! Zoro! Y/n!" he squeaked, jumping up and down on the bunk. "You're not my parents! And you're not married! We were attacked! Remember? On the island! Something happened to your minds!" He waved his little hooves frantically, trying to gesture towards the distant memory of the strange town.

Zoro let out a deep, chesty chuckle, the sound warm and full. You, still leaning into Zoro's side, laughed too, a light, melodic sound that filled the infirmary. "Oh, Chopper," you said, reaching out to gently pat his head, "what a funny joke! You always have the wildest imagination." You exchanged a fond look with Zoro. "He's always been a bit dramatic, hasn't he, love?"

Zoro nodded in agreement, his rare smile still firmly in place. He tightened his arm around your waist, pulling you closer against him. The infirmary, meant to be a place of healing, was now transformed into a bizarre, heartwarming domestic scene, utterly oblivious to the true nature of their altered reality. Chopper, left staring at his "parents" nestled together, could only gape in dismay.

The rest of the day was a bizarre, bewildering spectacle for the Straw Hats, and a nightmare for poor Chopper. He spent most of his time trying to subtly avoid his two deluded "parents," hiding behind Franky's legs or attempting to blend in with a pile of spare cannonballs.

The full extent of the situation became undeniably clear at lunch. Chopper, still reeling from the morning's events, sat at the long table, glumly poking at his sandwich. "I hate the crust," he mumbled, pushing the offending edges away.

Across the table, your head snapped up. "Oh, my precious one," you cooed, instantly reaching for his plate. With deft movements, you quickly and carefully sliced off the crusts, just the way he preferred, your movements as natural as if you’d done it a thousand times. "There you go, sweetheart. Mama knows you don't like the crunchy bits."

Luffy, mid-chew on a massive bite of meat, paused, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Shishishi! Y/n, you're acting just like a mom!"

You smiled, a genuine, loving warmth in your eyes as you looked at Chopper. "Well, of course, Luffy. He is my baby, after all."

A collective gasp rippled through the table. Nami's jaw dropped, her eyes wide with shock. Usopp choked on his drink, nearly spraying Franky with cola. Robin, usually unflappable, raised a hand to her mouth, a rare flicker of surprise in her elegant features. Sanji spluttered, dropping the plate of food he was carrying, his usual suave demeanor completely shattered. "Y-Y/n-chan?! A mother?!"

Before anyone could fully process this bombshell, the mess hall door swung open. Zoro strode in, his lingering stiffness barely noticeable as his gaze immediately found you. Without a word, he walked directly to your side, leaned down, and pressed a deep, unhurried kiss to your lips.

The mess hall erupted.

Luffy burst into roaring laughter, slapping his knee. "SHISHISHISHI! ZORO'S A DAD! AND Y/N'S HIS WIFE! THAT'S HILARIOUS!"

Nami practically shot out of her seat. "WHAT?!" she shrieked, pointing an accusing finger. "Zoro! Y/n! What is going on?! You two have never even looked at each other like that!"

You, however, were completely unfazed, a soft smile on your face as you pulled back from the kiss. You leaned your head contentedly on Zoro's shoulder. "That's my husband," you stated simply, as if stating the most obvious fact in the world. "We've been together for years, haven't we, dear?"

Zoro grunted in agreement, a rare, fond light in his eye as he looked down at you. "Of course. And this noisy little one," he gestured to a horrified Chopper, who was now attempting to burrow under the table, "is ours."

Sanji, looking utterly devastated, dramatically clutched his chest. "IMPOSSIBLE! Y/N-CHAN, MY SWEET ANGEL, MARRIED TO THIS MARIMO?! AND A MOTHER?! MY DREAMS ARE CRUSHED!" He began spiraling into a maelstrom of despair and self-pity.

Usopp, still recovering from his cola incident, spluttered, "But... but how?! When?! We've been on this ship together for years! We would have known!"

Robin's eyes, though still surprised, took on a thoughtful glint. "This is certainly... unexpected. It would appear a powerful external force is at play."

Franky, ever the dramatic one, pounded the table. "SUPER! Our Quartermaster and Swordsman, secretly married with a SUPER doctor son! This is the most UNEXPECTED romance of the seas!"

Brook, ever polite, bowed his head. "Yohohoho! My deepest congratulations on your matrimonial bliss and your adorable child! Though, forgive me, my eyes are but sockets, so I had no idea of such a grand secret!"

Jinbei, ever the voice of calm reason, stroked his chin. "This is highly unusual. Y/n-san and Zoro-san are clearly under some kind of influence. Chopper-san, did you notice anything peculiar on the island before this began?"

Chopper, finally emerging from under the table, his face a mottled mix of red and blue, pointed a trembling hoof at you and Zoro. "They're not my parents! They're not married! Something from that island did this to them! They were stung by something!"

You and Zoro just smiled at him, a unified front of delusional parental affection. The rest of the Straw Hats exchanged worried glances. This was going to be a long day.

Days bled into a bewildering week, a constant, low hum of anxiety settling over the Thousand Sunny. The initial shock had worn off, replaced by a grim determination among the Straw Hats to find a cure. It wasn't just Chopper freaking out anymore; it was everyone. Sanji still occasionally keeled over dramatically, muttering about the sanctity of love, but even he, alongside Nami and Robin, worked tirelessly with Chopper to research every known Devil Fruit ability, every strange plant, every rumored curse of the New World. Luffy, while still finding the situation amusing, also worried, sensing the underlying wrongness. Even Jinbei, calm as ever, acknowledged the gravity of the situation, constantly looking for any subtle changes in the afflicted duo.

What truly unnerved them all was the chilling accuracy of Chopper's assessment: this wasn’t the natural progression of Y/n and Zoro’s unspoken feelings. This was a forced reality, a complete overwrite of their personalities. Their quiet, subtle affections had been replaced by a saccharine, domestic intensity that felt utterly alien. They still looked like Y/n and Zoro, but the essence of who they were, those distinct quirks and personal rhythms, felt stripped away, subsumed by this imposed familial role. And Chopper, the unwitting "son," was the primary victim of their relentless, if affectionate, parental delusion.

The little "parent things" were constant, a bizarre new routine for the crew.

One evening, Chopper, exhausted from another day of frantic research and dodging parental overtures, finally managed to sneak into the infirmary for some rest. He'd just pulled his blanket up to his chin when the door gently creaked open. It was Y/n, her eyes soft with a profound maternal love.

"My little one," she whispered, tiptoeing to his bunk. She carefully tucked the blanket tighter around him, smoothing it down with a tenderness that made Chopper's fur prickle. She then leaned down, humming a soft, unfamiliar lullaby, and gently brushed his forehead, a gesture of almost ethereal affection that made his stomach churn with discomfort. "Sleep well, my precious deer. Mama will watch over you."

Another time, during a particularly stormy night that had Usopp huddled in fear, Zoro, instead of his usual silent contemplation of the raging seas, found Chopper shivering under his blanket. "You're a strong boy, aren't you?" Zoro rumbled, his voice low and comforting, completely devoid of his usual gruffness. He sat on the edge of Chopper's bed, gently ruffling his fur with a large hand. "No need to be scared, son. Your father's here. Nothing's going to hurt you." He stayed there for a long time, a silent, unwavering presence, until the storm passed and Chopper, despite his internal turmoil, actually drifted off to sleep, feeling oddly safe.

Mealtimes, previously a chaotic free-for-all, now featured Y/n meticulously cutting Chopper's meat into bite-sized pieces and even, to Sanji's utter horror, attempting to spoon-feed him a few times. "You need your strength, my big boy," she'd insist, her voice laced with a warmth that was undeniably genuine, yet utterly misplaced.

Even during training, Zoro would often call out to Chopper, his voice booming with pride. "Look, Y/n! Our boy's got good reflexes! He'll be a fine fighter!" He'd then demonstrate a simplified sword movement, urging Chopper to mimic him, completely oblivious to the trauma he was inflicting on his "son."

The crew observed these moments with a mixture of heartbreak and desperation. They knew these actions, while outwardly loving, were not truly Y/n and Zoro's. They were manifestations of a cruel, forced illusion, turning two of their most formidable members into doting, oblivious parents, and their innocent doctor into the bewildered victim of their warped affection. The clock was ticking, and they knew they had to break this spell before their nakama were lost to them forever.

The breaking point arrived during one particularly surreal dinner. Zoro had just demonstrated how to properly polish a sword to a bewildered Chopper, referring to it as "something a son should learn from his father," while Y/n meticulously arranged Chopper's vegetables into a smiley face. The sight was too much.

"Alright! That's enough!" Luffy suddenly roared, slamming his fists on the table, his usual jovial expression replaced by a stern, determined frown. "This isn't fun anymore! Y/n and Zoro aren't acting like themselves! We're going back to that island! We're gonna find whoever did this and kick their butts!"

A wave of relief, potent and almost palpable, washed over the crew.

"It's about time, Luffy!" Nami exclaimed, her eyes blazing with resolve. "I've run every diagnostic, every environmental scan, cross-referenced every Devil Fruit, and nothing explains this! We need to find the source!"

"My dreams of chivalry are shattered, but my loyalty to my nakama is not!" Sanji declared, lighting a cigarette with a dramatic flourish. "I shall unleash the full force of my kicks on whoever dared to sully Y/n-chan's precious mind!"

Usopp, though visibly nervous, clutched his trusty slingshot. "Yeah! They messed with our friends! And our doctor! That's unforgivable!"

Robin's usually calm voice held a rare edge of intensity. "This 'Kokoromi no Mi,' as Chopper has tentatively identified it, is a truly insidious power. Its effects are deeply unsettling. We must locate its user."

Franky pounded his chest. "SUPER! Time to bring back our SUPER serious swordsman and our SUPER organized Quartermaster! No one messes with the Straw Hat family!"

Brook strummed a mournful chord on his violin. "My heart, though I have none, weeps for their altered state. We must restore their true selves! Yohohoho!"

Even Jinbei, who had maintained a stoic front, nodded gravely. "We cannot allow our nakama to remain under such a spell. This is a task that requires our full attention."

Zoro, his arm still around your waist, merely grunted, his gaze fixed on Chopper. "What are they talking about, Y/n? Are they going somewhere without us?"

You smiled sweetly. "Oh, dear. Perhaps they're just planning a little outing. But we have our little one to take care of."

Luffy, however, had already sprung to the deck. "Alright! Set sail for that weird island! We're gonna find out who did this and make them regret it!" He turned to Zoro and you, a mischievous glint in his eye. "And Zoro, Y/n! When this is all over, we're gonna tell you all the funny stuff you did! Like how you two were kissing all over the place!"

You and Zoro exchanged a loving glance, completely oblivious to the crew's exasperation. "Kissing?" you murmured, a light blush dusting your cheeks. "But we do that all the time, don't we, husband?"

"Hmph. What's wrong with that?" Zoro added, completely missing the point.

The rest of the crew groaned, a unified wave of frustration washing over the deck. This was going to be a tough fight, not just against the Devil Fruit user, but against the sheer awkwardness of their friends' delusion.

Hours later, the Thousand Sunny once again dropped anchor off the strange, silent island. The twisted trees seemed to loom even more ominously in the twilight. The crew disembarked, their faces grim and determined. Luffy led the charge, his voice echoing through the eerie stillness. "Alright, you weirdo! Show yourself! We're here to get our friends back!" The hunt for the Kokoromi no Mi user had officially begun.

The Straw Hats fanned out, their usual boisterous energy replaced by a focused, almost grim determination. The island, which had seemed merely "off" before, now felt palpably sinister. The twisted trees clawed at the perpetually overcast sky, and the sickly sweet scent intensified, clinging to their clothes and hair.

Nami led the charge, her navigator's instincts honed by years of charting treacherous waters. She pulled out a small, intricate compass, its needle spinning wildly at first, then settling on a distinct, unsettling tremor. "The magnetic field is completely warped here," she murmured, her brow furrowed. "Whatever's causing this... it's radiating a powerful, unnatural energy."

Robin walked beside her, her usually serene expression thoughtful. She used her Devil Fruit ability, sprouting eyes and ears on the strange flora, extending their sensory reach far beyond their immediate vicinity. "The 'villagers' we saw earlier," she observed, her voice low, "they appear to be little more than echoes. Residual projections, perhaps. The true source of this illusion must be nearby, manipulating these phantoms."

Chopper, still reeling from his "parental" ordeal, pointed a trembling hoof. "That smell! It's stronger over there!" He had noticed the distinct, sickly sweet aroma was more concentrated near certain clusters of the gnarled trees.

Usopp, ever the sniper, climbed one of the taller, less stable-looking trees, his scope scanning the bizarre landscape. "I've got nothing! Just more weird plants and... wait! There's a clearing up ahead, deeper in the woods! And something's shimmering there!"

As they pushed through the dense undergrowth, the air grew thick and heavy, the sweet scent cloying, almost suffocating. The ground underfoot became strangely soft, spongy, as if they were walking on a rotten carpet of leaves.

Suddenly, Franky let out a shout. "SUPER! Look at this!" He pointed to a patch of ground where the strange, colorful flowers seemed to glow with an ethereal light. As he approached, the flowers seemed to shimmer, and for a fleeting moment, he saw faint, transparent images of the town's buildings flickering within their petals.

"It's a resonance," Robin deduced, her eyes narrowing. "These flowers... they are somehow amplifying and sustaining the illusion. The user must be at the epicenter of their concentration."

Following the increasingly strong scent and the subtle shimmering of the flora, they eventually stumbled into a circular clearing, strangely devoid of the gnarled trees. In the very center, seated cross-legged amidst a vibrant bed of the glowing flowers, was a thin, almost frail-looking man. His eyes were closed, his hands clasped, and a faint, almost invisible aura of shimmering light emanated from him, pulsing in time with the faint distortions in the air around him. The air here was so thick with the sweet scent it was almost difficult to breathe.

Luffy saw him, and his usual grin vanished, replaced by a dark, intense fury. The image of Zoro and Y/n, so utterly unlike themselves, flashed through his mind. His fists clenched, steam beginning to rise from his body.

"So you're the one," Luffy growled, his voice low and dangerous, "You'll pay for messing with my nakama!" Without another word, he lunged forward, stretching his arm back, ready to unleash a devastating Gum-Gum Pistol. The fight for Y/n and Zoro's true selves had finally begun.

Luffy's Gum-Gum Pistol shot forward like a compressed spring, aiming directly for the man's serene, unsuspecting face. But just before impact, the man's eyes snapped open, revealing pupils that seemed to swirl with iridescent colors. The air around him shimmered violently, and Luffy's fist passed through him as if he were made of smoke.

"An illusionary body!" Nami shouted, instantly grasping the situation. "He's projecting himself! The real one is somewhere else, maintaining the illusion!"

"Then we just have to hit everything!" Luffy declared, not missing a beat. His arms began to flail, a flurry of Gum-Gum Gatling punches raining down on the entire clearing. Each punch dissolved a part of the shimmering landscape, tearing away at the illusion, revealing glimpses of rougher, more mundane reality beneath.

Sanji, meanwhile, was already in motion. "Diable Jambe!" he roared, his leg igniting with flames. He launched himself into a searing kick, aiming not at the man's image, but at the very ground beneath the glowing flowers. His kick tore a fiery trench, disrupting the delicate network of roots and earth that seemed to anchor the illusion.

Robin's hands sprouted from the glowing flowers, from the bizarre, twisted trees, even from the man's illusory form itself, seeking a physical connection. "Dos Fleur!" she commanded, her eyes fixed on the man's true body which, she surmised, had to be tethered to the focal point of the illusion. Her hands probed through the shimmering air, feeling for any point of resistance, any solid form.

Usopp, perched on a higher branch, loaded a special Pop Green. "Sleep Star!" he yelled, firing a small, spherical projectile that exploded into a cloud of soporific pollen. The pollen, however, seemed to simply phase through the illusionary man, wavering and dissipating. "Damn it! He's not even real!"

"We need to disrupt the source directly!" Jinbei bellowed, his powerful fists slamming into the ground, sending shockwaves through the earth. He targeted the clusters of glowing flowers, recognizing them as key components of the man's power. "Ryugu Kawarajima Seiken!" His attacks sent plumes of dirt and pulverized plant matter into the air, each impact causing a visible ripple in the illusion.

As the Straw Hats unleashed their assault, the man's calm demeanor began to crack. His face contorted in a sneer, and the illusions around them became more aggressive, spectral figures rising from the dissolving trees, attempting to swipe at the crew. But the Straw Hats, focused and determined, ignored the phantoms, concentrating their attacks on the central figure and the glowing flora.

Suddenly, Robin's eyes widened. "Found you!" she exclaimed, her hands appearing on a tiny, almost imperceptible tremor in the air behind the illusory man. She had found the true, vulnerable body, hidden deep within the illusion's core. "Cien Fleur: Wing!" Hundreds of arms sprouted, forming massive, powerful wings that slammed down, shattering the last vestiges of the illusion.

The shimmering veil ripped apart, revealing the man's actual body, frail and shaking, hidden behind the dissolving mirage. He was small, cowering, and utterly exposed.

Luffy, his face still etched with anger, didn't hesitate. "Gum-Gum... RED HAWK!" His fist ignited with flames, a powerful, haki-infused blow that struck the man squarely in the chest. The man crumpled, unconscious, the glowing flowers around him instantly wilting, turning to ash. The air cleared, the sickly sweet scent dissipating, replaced by the natural smell of the island's damp earth and the distant sea. The illusion was completely, utterly broken.

Back on the Thousand Sunny, in the infirmary, Zoro and Y/n lay peacefully, their eyes closed. As the Devil Fruit user on the island fell, a violent shiver ran through both of them. The warmth that had enveloped their minds, the loving conviction of their marriage and parenthood, abruptly shattered. It was like waking from a vivid, beautiful dream into a stark, bewildering reality.

A gasp escaped your lips as your eyes snapped open. The familiar ceiling of the infirmary came into focus. A sharp, disorienting ache pounded behind your temples, and your body felt strangely heavy, intimately connected to something else. You tried to shift, but something held you fast.

You looked down, your eyes widening in shock. You were not alone. You were lying pressed against a broad, muscular chest, an arm thrown possessively over your waist. Your head was nestled in the crook of a strong shoulder, and your legs were tangled with another's.

Zoro.

His eyes, still a little unfocused, blinked open moments after yours. His breath hitched as he, too, realized the intimate proximity. His vision cleared, taking in the soft, dark hair against his cheek, the curve of a familiar waist against his side, the warmth of a body pressed against his own.

A rush of heat flooded your face. This wasn't the false warmth of an illusion; this was raw, undeniable embarrassment mixed with a dizzying current of something else, something thrilling and terrifying. You were in Zoro's arms, your bodies intimately connected, closer than you had ever been in waking reality.

He stirred, his arm tightening around you almost imperceptibly, his body stiffening with a mixture of confusion and dawning realization. His gaze met yours, wide with shock, a deep blush slowly creeping up his neck and dusting his ears. The unspoken tension that had always hummed between you now roared, a deafening silence filled with mutual, profound mortification. Neither of you moved, caught in the sudden, undeniable reality of your entangled forms, the remnants of a powerful illusion leaving behind a very real, very awkward truth.

A wave of disorienting clarity washed over you and Zoro, replacing the comforting delusion with a sudden, searing awareness of your intertwined limbs. The softness of the infirmary bed beneath you was undeniable, as was the unmistakable heat of Zoro's body pressed against yours. Your face burned, a deep crimson flush spreading across your cheeks.

"Wh-what the hell?" you stammered, trying to shift, but his arm, still possessively draped over your waist, held you firmly in place. Your mind raced, piecing together fragments of memory: the strange island, the illusion, the prick on your hand... and then, a horrifying, vivid recollection of calling Chopper "my child" and Zoro "my husband."

Zoro's single eye, wide with a mixture of shock and mortification, met yours. His usual stoic composure had completely evaporated. A deep blush, so rare it was almost unheard of, crept up his neck and stained his ears. "What in the…?" he grunted, his voice rougher than usual, betraying his utter bewilderment. He too, was clearly grappling with the sudden, jarring return of his true memories. The image of Y/n, his crewmate, his Quartermaster, his... you, calling him "my love" and then that kiss... it slammed into him with the force of a cannonball.

The awkward silence that followed was deafening, filled only by the rapid thumping of your hearts. The air crackled with a tension that was both mortifying and, inexplicably, electric. You were acutely aware of the warmth radiating from his skin, the scent of him – salt, steel, and something uniquely masculine – filling your nostrils.

"We… we were on the island," you managed, your voice barely a whisper, trying to make sense of the chaos. "And then… that man… the illusion. And then… this." You gestured vaguely between your tangled bodies, then to the infirmary around you. "Did... did they bring us back here?"

Zoro groaned, a deep, guttural sound of pure exasperation. He finally managed to pull his arm back, creating a sliver of space between your bodies, though the warmth where he'd been lingered tantalizingly. He ran a hand over his face, scrubbing away the last vestiges of confusion. "That damn Devil Fruit user," he muttered, his voice laced with annoyance. "They hit us with something. That's why... that's why we were acting like that." He paused, a fresh wave of mortification washing over him as he recalled his own actions. "Calling Chopper our kid... and you..." He trailed off, unable to voice the word "wife."

You instinctively drew your knees up, covering yourself with the blanket, suddenly acutely aware of how disheveled you both must look. "And you! You were acting like... like you've been my husband for years!" You couldn't help but feel a flicker of indignation, despite the heat still flooding your cheeks. It wasn't fair that he was the only one allowed to be embarrassed.

He shot you a rare, exasperated look. "Don't look at me like that! You were calling me 'my love,' and 'husband'!" He ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at the green strands in frustration. "And that... that kiss... we've never..." He trailed off again, the unspoken truth hanging heavily in the air.

The memory of the kiss, though under the influence of the Devil Fruit, sent a fresh jolt through you. It had felt so natural, so right in that warped reality. And the way he had looked at you, with that deep, loving concern... a part of you, a very quiet, secret part, had actually liked it.

You both lay there for another long moment, the silence thick with the unspoken tension of your mutual feelings, now magnified by the bizarre circumstances. The illusion might have been broken, but it had stripped away the comfortable layers of unspoken understanding, leaving raw, exposed emotions.

Finally, with a frustrated sigh that seemed to echo the very depths of his embarrassment, Zoro groaned again. But this time, instead of pulling away, he shifted. He leaned back into you, his large frame settling comfortably against yours, his arm subtly sliding back around your waist, his hand coming to rest just above your hip. He lowered his head, nestling into the crook of your neck, his warm breath ghosting over your skin.

You stiffened, your breath catching in your throat. Every nerve ending screamed in awareness of his proximity, of the subtle weight of his head, the familiar scent of him now intoxicatingly close. For a split second, panic warred with an overwhelming wave of something else – a deep, almost primal comfort that settled over you. Then, slowly, almost imperceptibly, you relaxed into his embrace. The awkwardness was still there, a buzzing undercurrent, but beneath it, a new, fragile warmth began to bloom. The illusion had been a lie, but the connection, the undeniable truth of your intertwined feelings, was very, very real.

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece fanfiction #reader insert #straw hat pirates #straw hats #straw hats x reader #angst ish #light angst #zoro x y/n #zoro x you #zoro x reader #op zoro #one piece zoro #roronoa zoro #zoro #reqs open

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coralquill · 29 days ago

Note

Can you write headcanons of Xavier (and anyone else if you want) finding his coffee restocked (the good kind because he always mistakenly buys the bitter one), extra blankets near his couch (because he usually just forgets or is too lazy to grab them before sleeping), foods hidden somewhere in his fridge for emergencies etc small things taken care of? And maybe reader always buys extra snacks so she can share with him? I really feel like we need to take care of this forgetful baby😭 No forces, just write if you feel like it, okay? No biggie🤗 And love your writings, by the way

ahoy, thank you for requesting! you're right; xavier does deserve to be looked after. hope you enjoy!

pairing: xavier x reader

contents: fluff || wc.313

— XAVIER

At first, Xavier would go about his day as usual, preparing his coffee to start his day and grabbing a few snacks to-go to keep him going throughout the day. He'd notice that the coffee was sweeter than what he was used to—the bland and bitter type he always accidentally bought. He thought maybe he finally mastered the art of brewing coffee.

"The coffee is sweet today," he'd tell you, voice soft.

"Yeah?" You smiled at him.

"Mhm."

After work, Xavier would slump across his couch to recharge after a long day of fighting Wanderers. He had half a thought of going to his bedroom to fetch a blanket. He stretched, settling into a comfortable position, and his hand grazed a fluffy material. He looked up, finding a batch of freshly washed and folded blankets lying on top of the armrest.

Ah, just what he needed. He pulled one over his body and took the best nap he had in a long while.

As days passed, he noticed his coffee was always sweet, never bitter. The cupboard of snacks and the drawer of tasty meals stored in the fridge never seemed to run out, and there was always a batch of freshly-done blankets lying atop the armrest awaiting him.

ding, dong—

Xavier knew it was you. "Come in," he spoke softly. The moment you pushed past the door, he was met with excitement radiating off you.

"Hi!" you greeted him, settling beside him on the couch. "I got some new snacks we could try." After laying them out in front of you both, you looked up and smiled at him.

He returned your smile with a soft one of his, and this moment cemented that your presence in his life was like a quiet blessing—constant, unspoken, and always just what he needed.

—and he was quietly appreciative of you.

— until next tide, thanks for docking by ｡𖦹°‧𓇼

likes and reblogs will always be appreciated ♡ let me know what you think! — requests are open!

— set sail for more tales, sailor: ⚲masterlist

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #xavier x reader #xavier x you #lnds xavier #lads xavier #xavier love and deepspace #xavier lads #lads #lads x reader #lnds #lnds x reader #xavier lnds #xavier #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace x you #coral writes 🪸

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red-riot-unbreakable-heart · 9 months ago

Note

Some angst to fluff of himbo kiri finding out reader is pregnant?-🧚🏽‍♀️🧚🏽‍♀️

Red Riot: Unbreakable Baby Daddy

Eijiro Kirishima x Reader

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Eijiro Kirishima x Fem Reader! 💋

Genre: Angst to Fluff, Romance, Pregnancy, Smut

CW: MDNI!, A18+, PIV, pregnancy sex, oral, lemon, profanity

Link to My Master List

Well, shit.

You stand in your apartment bathroom nervously tapping your foot as you re-read the pregnancy test instructions. Plus sign means positive. Minus sign means negative. You grab the test with clumsy hands and it almost goes sailing into the toilet – almost. You manage to catch it before it hits the porcelain throne and you scramble to read it again. There, on the cheap drugstore pregnancy test, is the faintest of plus signs.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Okay – gotta think this through. Have you always wanted a baby? Yes. But are you ready for a baby now!?

Your mind whirs through all of the details of your life – steady partner? Check. Reliable source of income? Check. Decent living space? Check.

Sure, you’re a little younger than you would have liked, but to hell with it – you have everything you need to bring a baby into this world. So why the heck not!?

A baby! You’re going to have a baby. And not just any baby – Eijiro Kirishima’s baby.

You laugh giddily and race out of the bathroom to get your phone. It’s lying on the floral Ikea bedspread where you left it.

You click open your home and see your background is currently an image of Keanu Reeves from John Wick. Oh. That’s right – you had swapped our your usual background pic of Kirishima for this image last night. After you two had fought for an hour.

Your petty revenge on Eijiro has always been to change your phone background to a hot, skinny actor. It always drives him a little crazy – he hates to see you lust over other celebrities. Especially the slim, emo looking ones – it always makes him a little on edge that his big muscular himbo body might no longer be your taste. It’s petty of you, and maybe even a little mean playing into your boyfriend’s insecurities like this…but it’s really the only ammo you have against him when you’re annoyed or angry. Of all the things a person could do to get back at their partner for something, having Keanu as your phone background doesn’t seem so bad.

You swipe to unlock your phone and pull up your last conversation with Kiri. You know you need to tell him ASAP, but the two of you haven’t spoken since your blowout the night before. It’s not as if you’ve broken up or anything, but you both needed some space.

You think back to the argument. The two of you rarely fight, but this particular quarrel had been festering for months. Kirishima maintains in public that he’s single. He refuses to put you in the spotlight, worrying that in announcing he’s “involved” with you, he’ll be putting you in harm’s way. He’s put away so many villains over the past decade, and he fears that they would come after you as revenge on Red Riot.

For months you’ve been telling him you’re ready to take on the risk. The two of you have been a couple for 3 years now. When he refuses to acknowledge that he has a girlfriend in the press, it makes you feel insecure. Does he not take this relationship seriously? Does he not think that you two are capable of going the distance? In private, he worships the ground you walk on, but is that all just for show when you’re alone?

The night before, you had expressed these fears and doubts, practically begging Eijiro to call his publicist and break the news that Japan’s Sturdy Hero is taken and off the dating market.

Aside from your personal insecurities, you hate seeing the way that women endlessly flirt with Eijiro in public. They ask for selfies, wrapping their hands around his thick biceps and planting chaste kisses on his chiseled cheek. Eijiro, being the manly hero he is, always vehemently shuts down their advances. But you always wonder, if the right pretty woman were to come along and ask for a date – would he say yes?

Despite your anxieties, Red Riot is unwaveringly loyal, and would never entertain the thought of cheating. But that doesn’t stop the media from insinuating that he’s dating a new super model or Pro Hero every other week. You hate seeing him plastered on magazines in the grocery store, photoshopped next to a Top 20 hero with a nice rack and a thousand watt smile.

You think back to the argument last night, replaying it in your head like an old film reel.

You had stood in your tiny apartment kitchen, cleaning up after a delicious dinner the two of you had cooked together. Earlier that day, you had seen a tabloid at the mall showing off a particularly salacious photo of Red Riot after a particularly gruesome battle – half of his uniform had been torn off, revealing budging muscles and his dark happy trail that disappeared into his work pants. The image showed your boyfriend sitting on the edge of an ambulance as a pretty nurse smiled up at him and wrapped up a wound on his arm. The tabloid had a flashy title splashed across the cover “Red Riot Finds Love in the Field!?” You had begrudgingly purchased the magazine, bringing it home so you could show Kiri how ridiculous the media is getting, and how much it bothers you.

“Look at this, Eij. I have to see these all the time.” You toss the magazine in his direction and he catches it, smirking at the image on the cover.

“Wow, how did they even get that picture? I didn’t see any press at that fight.” He wonders, flipping through to the article. “’Chivalrous Hero Red Riot does it again – defeats the villain and seemingly gets the girl. Did we see sparks between the sturdy hero and the pretty EMT patching him up? Sources on the ground say he asked the emergency worker to dinner to thank her for her efforts.’ Wow, babe, you’re totally right. They’re absolutely making shit up about me. But hey – I do think I look pretty good in this pic, don’t you?”

He cocks an eyebrow and holds the article up for you to see – you didn’t see this picture earlier. You had been too angry to look at the actual article. The image shows Eijiro standing strong in his hero gear – his arms are crossed and a confident smile sparkles across his handsome face. The picture turns you on a bit – you always love the way he has learned to own the spotlight, to look unbreakable in the face of danger. It’s one of the reasons why you love him so damn much – his confidence in tough situations. You know that it took a lot of work for him to get to this point – he used to second guess himself so much when he was younger. But Eijiro had put in the time and the work in building his self esteem and his hero career, and now he is able to save people with a grin on his face. You’re so damn proud of the strong, capable hero he’s become.

You push down your arousal and get back to the point. “Yeah, babe. You always look great. But look…the point is I don’t like the way that they are always trying to ship you with whatever woman is in your vicinity. It really hurts me.” You pause, looking away from the article and getting back to washing your dishes in the sink. You pass a wet dish to Eijiro which he dries wordlessly before placing it in your dish cabinet. “I want you to tell people about me – I want to be part of your life in every way possible. Babe…please.”

“No.” He says soundly, before rattling off all of the reasons why he doesn’t want your relationship public. The two of you continue washing and drying dishes together as you talk.

“But Katsuki and Izuku’s relationship is public! Kyoka and Denki! Shoto and YaMomo!” You say accusatorily, shutting off the faucet as you finish washing the final bowl. You shove it into his chest pointedly and stalk off to the living room. He dries the bowl and places it on the counter before following. You plop down on the couch and cross your arms. Eijiro is giving you a weird, stricken look. He doesn’t want to be having this conversation.

“Babe. I’m gonna say something that’s going to really piss you off. But I need you to understand if from my point of view. All of our couple friends…well, yeah they can be public about their relationships. Because they’re all Pro Heroes. And you’re…well, you know. You’re not. You’re a citizen who never worked to develop your quirk and you have no true combat experience. It’s different with all of them.”

You feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment and anger. “So what!?” You practically yell, hating to be reminded that you’re the only one in your boyfriend’s massive friend group who isn’t a Hero. “What does that matter? You think I can’t take care of myself!?”

“No, it’s not that. I just want you to think about the training we all have and the threats we face everyday. All of our friends can go toe to toe with the worst super villains known to society. So if some goon came after them looking for revenge…they would be able to deal with it. But babe…you’re not a Pro. I don’t want to get you involved in anything dangerous or scary. I need you to understand that and see if from my perspective.” He goes quiet, looking at you for an answer.

You’re furious. You can kind of understand where he’s coming from here, but whatever stretch of understanding you have is buried under pure undiluted rage.

“So your saying our relationship isn’t the same as all of your friend’s relationships? Ours isn’t worth celebrating and having public?”

“No, that’s not it at all! Babe. You are the most precious thing in my life and I do not want to put you in jeopardy. I need you to understand that.” He says pleadingly.

“I’m tired of seeing all those hot Pro Heros hanging on you and flirting with you on talk shows! I am sick of being quiet and watching other women fawn all over you like you’re some sort of man whore.”

“Y/N…you know that I don’t like getting that attention and that it makes me uncomfortable. I’ve been trying to set boundaries with my fans and co-workers and I do feel like people are starting to get more respectful about touching me. Babe, I know you don’t like that and I’m really pushing back when women get close to me out in the field. Please believe me.”

You do. Of course you believe him. But if everyone just knew about your existence, you’re sure they would back the fuck away from your boyfriend.

“Eij. I believe you and I understand where you’re coming from. But I’m so tired of feeling like I’m some kind of dirty secret. I’m just so angry right now, I don’t think I can talk about this anymore tonight. Just…leave.” You’re getting a stress headache. You pinch the bridge of your nose and close your eyes in an attempt to stave off the pain, but it just gets worse. You walk away, leaving him sitting on the couch and looking upset.

He calls out after you, but doesn’t follow. “Y/N! I just wish you really understood why I want to keep this private. Please.”

A few minutes later, you hear the door slam closed behind him. You don’t text or call each other for the rest of the night.

But none of that matters now. That stupid argument is nothing - not now that Eijiro’s baby is growing deep inside you. You shriek with excitement. You need to let your boyfriend know ASAP. He’s leaving on a big mission soon, and you need to make sure you catch him before he goes into his next strategy session with Katsuki, Sero and Izuku.

You scramble to swipe open your stupid screensaver and pull up your contacts. You hit Kirishima’s name and let it ring, bringing the phone to your ear with giddy excitement.

The phone rings and rings. Finally, you hear your boyfriend’s gravely voice pick up on the other end.

“…hello?” He sounds annoyed.

“Eijiro. I need you to come over to my apartment…like, ASAP.”

His voice instantly looses its cold edge. “What’s wrong? Y/N – is everything alright?”

“Yes. I mean, no. I mean…I’m not sure! But I need you here right now. It’s urgent.”

“Is it about our fight last night? Because I’m still upset about it, but I am sorry if I minimized your feelings. I really can’t leave right now, we’re about to go and - ”

“Eij.” You cut him off midsentence. “I wouldn’t be asking you to leave work if it weren’t super important.”

He sighs, breathing out heavily into the phone receiver. “Okay. Give me 20 minutes.”

“Got it.”

He hangs up. It’s a mark of how upset he still is that he doesn’t end the call with his usual “Love you, sweetheart.” But you don’t care. You have a feeling that what you have to tell him will change everything.

The next 20 minutes are gonna feel like the longest of your life. You feel like you’re bursting at the seams with the news of your positive pregnancy test. You dance and twirl around the little apartment, using your frenetic energy to tidy. You clean the countertop and stove, flip through your junk mail and even fluff the pillows on your navy blue couch.

In a fit of inspiration, you scurry to your room and throw on your black silk dress. It’s sinfully tiny, with a slit running up the thigh. It’s by far Eijiro’s favorite outfit of yours. When he sees you in it, he can’t keep his hands off of you.

By the time that you hear his key turn in the apartment door, you’re fit to vibrate out of your skin you’re so excited. You watch him stumble in across the apartment threshold, looking world-weary and exhausted from a long day of mission strategy and patrolling.

“There’s my hero.” You say, running and throwing your arms around his thick, muscular neck. He catches you easily in his arms, his strong hands running down the smooth silk of your dress in disbelief.

“Is this your way of apologizing?” He mumbles into your shoulder. You laugh, giving him a squeeze before taking a step back from him.

“About that fight we had? It doesn’t matter right now. It’s irrelevant. I need you to forget about it.”

His eyes travel the length of your body, appreciating the way the dress hugs your curves. The slit up your thigh is of particular interest to his bright ruby eyes.

“Consider it forgotten.” He says, but he still sounds skeptical. “Now what was so urgent that you had me leave work in the middle of a strategy session? Bakugo almost ripped my head off when I told him I needed to come to your apartment.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about that. He’ll understand.”

“You sound awfully confident about that.” Eijiro raises an eyebrow, a frown plastered on his handsome face. “Must be something pretty important.”

“It is.” You grab his hand, dragging him across your tiny apartment and towards the bathroom. “Join me in the restroom.”

“Uh…okay.” Eijiro is flabbergasted, tossing his workbag to the ground as he follows after you. You pull him into your small blue tiled bathroom and push him down to sit on the toilet seat. Some news is best taken sitting down.

“Alright.” You reach into the medicine cabinet to grab the orange washcloth that you’ve stowed the pregnancy test in. “Close your eyes.”

“What’s going on, Y/N?” He sounds a mix of exhausted, tired and annoyed.

“Just go with it. I promise it’s worth the wait.” He sighs and obeys, closing his eyes and turning his face up towards the ceiling. You marvel for a moment at how – despite his manly himbo physique – he’s just so damn pretty. You hope your baby inherits the sharp curve of his chin and those glimmering ruby eyes.

You unwrap the pregnancy test from the washcloth and hold it out like an offering in front of Eijiro.

“Okay.” You take a shaky breath. “Open your eyes.”

Eijiro does as he’s told and stares blankly at you and the test for a moment.

“What’s this…?” He starts to say, and then it registers. The pregnancy test. The tiny plus sign.

“OH MY GOD.” He leaps off of where he’s sitting on the toilet seat and scrambles to grab the plastic strip from your hands. He holds it close to his eyes and then far away again, taking in the magnitude of what it means. “Is this what I think it is!? When? How!?” He looks up at you in wonder over the test.

“Remember that camping trip with all of our friends up at the lake? We borrowed Bakugo’s car so we could go pick up some pizza from town, but we ended up pulling off the road and fucking in the back seat before we cleared the woods.” You smile, thinking back to the fated trip a few weeks ago.

Eijiro’s face is ghostly white as his eyes widen in realization. “Oh my God – we didn’t use a condom.” He sucks in a breath.

“I asked if you wanted to cum in my mouth but you were just begging me to let you cum inside. You kept calling me “sweet heart” and the “love of my life.” And it was so pathetic and sweet that I thought oh, what the hell! Maybe just this once! And now here we are.”

“Oh my God.” Eijiro takes a few steps forward and then sinks to his knees before you on the cool tiles of the bathroom floor. Even on kneeling, he’s just so tall. He brings his head down to rest on your belly. You tense up, unsure of what to say. Everything is still and quiet, and your nerves are on edge.

Finally, Eijiro looks up at you, his wide ruby eyes glimmering with tears. A shaky grin spreads across his face. “Babe…I’m so happy.” He places a kiss to your stomach before disentangling himself. He gets back to his feet and pulls you back into his arms. “I’m sorry for that bullshit argument. It seems so silly now.”

He nuzzles his face into your neck. “I just…” You hear him choke back a sob, his shoulders shaking. “I love you so much. I can’t even tell you what this means to me…I always pictured us having kids someday, but it always seemed like such a distant future thing. And now here we are. Sure, it’s unplanned and there’s a lot we need to figure out. But God, I feel so lucky.”

This brings tears to your eyes as well. You hug him back, breathing in his scent deeply. He smells like cinnamon – you’re sure he grabbed one of his favorite cinnamon donut snacks on the walk over from his agency. You snuggle into his arms and stifle back come joyful crying.

“We’re going to have the most beautiful family, Eij.” You say into his thick chest.

“Yes, we are. I bet the baby will have your beautiful eyes, and that glowing smile.” He runs his hand over your back soothingly, reaching across you to gingerly place the pregnancy test on the sink counter.

“I hope it looks like you – shark teeth and all. Can you imagine? Red Riot, Jr.” You laugh. “You’ll have a little mini-Kiri running around.” You both grin at the image. “I should start calling you Red Riot: Unbreakable Baby Daddy.”

This makes Eijiro laugh. “Hey I like that! But wow, Y/N. Just wow.”

He sweeps you off your feet and into his arms, carrying you out of the bathroom and into your clean living room.

“We have so much to talk though. Hell, I should call out of that mission this week. We need to figure a ton out. Whose apartment do we want to move into – or should we get a new place together? We should do some financial planning, figure out childcare. What’s your job’s maternity leave policy look like? Shit, we’ll need to find a doula. Someone at the agency recommended having a doula. And at what point do we tell our friends? Our parents? Babe, you’ll need to build us one of your signature spreadsheets or planners or whatever, I - ”

“Shhh, Kiri.” You put a finger to his lips. “Babe, there’s plenty of time for all of that. Just let it sink in for a minute.” You’re wrapped up in his arms as he caries you across the room, holding you up like it’s nothing. Your Kirishima is such a strong hero, and you feel a fierce flame of pride flare up in your chest – this man is all yours.

You’re both silent for a moment, taking it all in. A baby. The two of you made a baby. It’s an incredible, almost unfathomable thought.

After a moment or two of quiet, Eijiro looks up at you mischievously. “So yeah, we can figure out all the financial and medical stuff later…but in terms of fuckin’…does this mean 9 months of unlimited cream pies?”

You shriek in surprise.

“OH MY GOD KIRI THAT’S WHAT YOU’RE THINKING ABOUT RIGHT NOW!?” You cry out, your voice echoing through the apartment as you bat at him playfully, cackling. He leans down so he can capture your lips in a searing kiss. Oh, God. Yeah – he’s being serious. He breaks the kiss and puts you down on the couch lightly so that you’re sitting up and he drops to his knees before you.

“I think we should celebrate, baby.” He slides his hands up under your tiny silk dress, causing the fabric to gather at the tops of your thighs. “Ah, fuck you’re gorgeous.” He runs his fingers across your legs, leaving goose bumps peppering your skin. He peaks beneath your dress to see cute striped panties underneath. A hunger sparks in his eyes – his shark-toothed grin is ravenous, roguish.

He spreads your legs and scoots himself in between them, leaning forward to press a kiss against your clothed pussy. He brings up his hand and runs it across your panties, lightly circling your clit before tracing down, down, down.

“You getting’ wet for me, babe?” He whispers hoarsely, not taking his eyes off of your panties.

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” You tease. You’re rewarded with a light pinch to your clit that causes you to yelp in surprise. “Kiri!” He chuckles, using his fingers to move the fabric of your panties to the side, exposing your pussy to the cool air of the room.

“So wet for me, sweet heart.” He grabs your hand, bringing it to his mouth so he can kiss your palm. He takes your forefinger and brings it to his mouth, wrapping his lips around it and sucking. He then moves your hand to your pussy and encourages you to pleasure yourself. “Show me how my baby likes it.”

You moan as you touch yourself, playing with your clit and dipping your fingers shallowly at the entrance of your pussy. Eijiro gets to his feet and takes off his hero costume, dropping his pants and underwear to the ground and freeing his hardening cock.

“You’re putting on quite a show, baby.” He says, leaning forward to slip the dress’s spaghetti straps off your shoulders. “Now show me those pretty tits.” He pushes the fabric of the dress down, exposing your chest. Your nipples perk up the instant the air hits them. He pinches your nipples lightly and then kneads your breasts a bit, one in each hand. The dress is now scrunched across your middle, most of you exposed to Kirishima’s greedy eyes. He takes a step back so that he can begin to stroke his cock as he watches you go to work on your pussy. You bite your lip and look away, almost embarrassed at the intensity of his gaze.

“You warmed up a little, baby?” He asks, leaning forward to plant his arms against the couch with you wedged helplessly in between. He kisses you again, roughly, before peppering kisses down your neck and across your collarbone. He stops to take one of your nipples into his mouth, licking and sucking until you cry out from the pleasure of it.

“Eij!”

He brings his body forward, guiding his cock towards your waiting pussy. You gasp as he smooths his thick member across your delicate, dripping entrance. “You make the prettiest sounds.” He coos, continuing to flex his hips to that you feel his length move against you.

You think he’s about to push inside when he pauses, his cockhead twitching against your entrance delightfully. “Can we do it now, though? Will it hurt the baby?” He says, concern tinting his husky voice.

“I did some research – yeah, we’re fine. Keep going.” You groan out, scooting your hips forward and trying to coax him inside.

“So impatient for me to cum inside you again, ain’t ya?” Eijiro taunts, rubbing his cock back and forth against your vulva. “You sure there’s room for one more in there?”

“God yes. Just fuck me already, Kiri!” You pout, straining to get closer to him.

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” He says before easing into you. Despite your assurance that the baby would be fine, he still takes extra care as he slides into place. He pauses to let you adjust to his size, but after a moment or two you’re off to the races.

“Jeez, babe…I forgot how damn good it feels to fuck your pussy raw. I can feel you, so tight around me. Fuckkkk.” He takes it slow, shifting his hips softly so that you can feel every inch of his hard cock as it slips and slides within you. You relax into it, your cunt stretching to slowly to accommodate his size. After all these years together, you know each other so well that fucking feels like bliss. You can just relax into it and let him take the lead.

After a few moments of gentle fucking to let you get comfortable, he makes sure you have a secure hold on him. He scoops you up and, cock still lodged deep within you, he gets to his feet. This is one of the things you love about your big, himbo boyfriend – he’s strong enough to be able to fuck you in any position and he can lift you up with absolutely zero effort. His palms flatten under your ass cheeks so he can bounce you up and down and you mewl, leaning your face into his hard chest. Your legs are wrapped around his thick body. He’s so muscular and wide that you have trouble keeping steady. It feels so incredibly good to have him intertwined with you like this, you have to remind yourself to keep your arms wrapped around his neck.

“You like that baby?” He gasps between thrusts. “You like it when I stand and deliver?”

“Oh God yes. Keep on deliverin’.” You slur, enjoying every sensation. He chuckles and obliges, supporting all of your weight in his hands as he continues to move. After a few minutes of this, you can tell he’s getting close by the way he starts squeezing your ass and speaking nonsense.

“You’re my girl, you know that? My absolute number one perfect babe.” His breath hitches as his cock almost slides out completely but he manages to guide it back into you without incident.

“Sit down, Kiri. I wanna ride you.” You whine, kissing his sweat covered collarbone.

“Alright, babe. Whatever you want.” He turns and slowly brings you both down to the couch. You know he’s got a fuck ton of stamina from being a Pro Hero, but standing and fucking has definitely caused him to work up a sweat. You can see that he’s grateful to be back on the couch. He leans back and his back sinks into the comfy backrest of the sofa, and he brings his hands up from your ass to rest on your hips.

“Go on, baby.” He coaches. “Show me how good you are at riding this fat cock.”

You slide your legs down and settle so that you’re straddling him, and bring your hands low to rest on his strong, beefy chest. You lock eyes with him as you slowly raise your hips, bringing yourself up high enough so that his cock is barely inside of you. He watches you with eyes so full of love and attention that it almost takes your breath away. You circle your hips in the air, the head of his cock rolling around your folds before you slam back down on his member, sheathing him in one fowl swoop.

“Damn. Fuck. Y/N.” He throws his head back in ecstasy and grips your hips so hard you’re sure they’ll bruise. “Christ you treat me so well.”

You continue to ride him at a near brutal pace. His breaths become shallow as he chases his high, sure to burst at any moment.

“Fuck! Wait – hold on.” He squeezes your hips and you come to a stop, puzzled. He bites his lip as he glances down between you at your stomach. “I wanna make this last. We’re celebrating, after all.”

You grin. “What do you have in mind, Eij?”

“Climb off of me and come sit on my face. Let me eat you out for a while.” He smiles at you, reaching out with his thumb to smooth a bead of sweat off your brow.

“You sure?

“The way I see it, once the baby starts growing it might get harder for you to climb on top of me. So let’s clock as much face fucking time for you as we can before that happens.” He says eagerly, taking a few moments to circle your clit with the pad of his thumb.

“Eij…you’re such a sweetie pie.” You tweak his nose as you move to get off his dick. He watches you rise up off of his cock, and he moans a little at the loss of contact as he slides out of your pussy.

“Don’t worry.” You say, kissing him on the cheek. “You’ll be back in there before you know it.”

He smiles as he helps you to your feet. “I know, its just feels so damn good to be inside you without a condom, anytime I have to pull out its torture. I keep forgetting that we can do this all the time now.” He lays down across the couch and gets comfortable, placing a pillow beneath his shoulder blades. “Alright, sweetheart. Come up and take a seat.”

Your clit absolutely throbs in anticipation as you climb up on top of him, straddling his face in a position that’s become so familiar. He wraps his arms around your legs and guides you down, swiping his tongue across your pussy with practiced skill.

“Oh, God, Kiri…” You groan, relaxing into it. He drags his tongue across your clit and down to your core, gripping your legs tightly to hold you in place as he takes you apart one lick at a time. You grind your hips back and forth lightly, shimmying against him in a move that probably looks more silly than pornographic. You don’t care, though – it gets the job done. You let him bring you to the brink of orgasm with his mouth alone, gasping as he sucks on your sensitive clit for what feels like hours. When your legs start to shake, it’s a surefire sign that you’re about to tip over the edge.

“Babeee.” You whine as you get close. “Wanna cum on your cock.”

Eijiro stops what he’s doing and says in a muffled voice “You’re so impatient, sweetheart.” You grind against his face in reply, and he laughs. He helps you climb off of him, your legs still shaky and uncoordinated.

You let yourself rest for a moment, taking deep, steadying breaths. You look up at your hero - his gelled up hair is now disheveled and out of place. He’s wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and smiling at you. “Eating you out is one of my favorite hobbies, babe.”

You giggle. “Is it nice to be having sex while everyone else is at work?” You ask, laughing as he easily flips you over onto your belly.

“It is a nice break from a stressful job, yeah.” Eijiro gets behind you, finally pulling the dress down and off your body so that it’s no longer hiked up in a heap around your middle. He lays it delicately on the back of the couch. “Can’t have anything happening to my favorite outfit.” He explains as he smooths out the fabric.

He puts a large hand on your back and slides it up towards your shoulder blades, adding some slight pressure to encourage you to get down on your elbows. He hauls your ass up towards him and settles himself behind you.

“You ready?” He asks, sliding his cock along your folds, using his split and your slick as lube.

“Y-yeah.” You breathe out, body buzzing with anticipation. “Go for it.”

He glides back into you, doggy style. This is your favorite position, as it allows his big cock to hit just the right spot deep inside you. Once again, Eijiro takes it slow. He braces one hand on your hips, the other on your stomach. He spreads his fingers wide against your belly, protective. You know he’s distracted – half of his thoughts are no doubt on the baby and all that it means for the two of you.

He makes love to you like this for quite a while - enjoying the feel of your bare pussy around his cock, reveling in every sigh and moan he can goad from your pretty mouth.

“Kiriii.” You whine, fed up with this slow and easy pace. “Faster, baby.”

He smirks down at you, releasing your hip for a moment so he can deliver a light smack to your ass. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

He picks up his pace, fucking you with practiced skill. He maneuvers his hips in a way that allows him to go deep, concentrating all of his energy on one singular point. When the tip of his cock hits your cervix, you splutter out endless praise.

“Fuck, yes Eij. Fuck fuck fuck, keep going.”

And he does – he hits the same delicious spot over and over and over. You’re overwhelmed with the pleasure of it all, tears coming to your eyes as you feel heat start to pool in your belly. Your legs are shaking beneath you, and you know that the only reason you’re still able to stay in this position is because Kirishima’s strong arms are holding you in place.

“You wanna cum for me, sweetheart?” Eijiro hisses between clenched teeth, concentrating on keeping his pace consistent as he pistons his dick into you. “You look so pretty when you’re all riled up and desperate for my cock like this.”

“Ah – Eij!” You cry out as your pussy flutters around him, you cum hard and fast. Stars dance behind your eyes as your body squeezes and tries to milk Eijiro’s cock.

“Woah – fuck babe!” He cries out in surprise, not expecting such a forceful orgasm from you. Your pussy feels like absolute heaven around him, and the way your walls squeeze and pull at him causes him to lose himself. He cries out when he cums, ropes of hot, sticky sperm shooting deep inside you. If you weren’t already pregnant, this particular fucking certainly would have given you a run for your money.

“Fuck babe. I’m gonna fuck another baby into you.” He’s groaning nonsense as he rides out his orgasm, head thrown back and hands gripping you desperately. The overstimulation of it all has you feeling full, complete.

With a few final pumps, he’s spent. He slowly pulls out of you, marveling at the gooey creampie he’s left in his wake.

“Babe…this is insanely hot.” He says, bringing a finger up to push his seed back inside of you. You groan at the contact, overstimulated from cumming so damn hard.

“Kiri stoppp, I need a minute.” You collapse into the couch, rolling over onto your back and shuddering as you try to catch your breath. Eijiro joins you, leaning back into the couch cushions and staring up at the ceiling in ecstasy.

“We should fuck like that all the time.” He says, eyes sliding closed with exhaustion. Between last night’s fight, today’s work, and this afternoon’s physical activity – he’s spent. “God, I love you.”

“Love you too, Eij.” You coo, you feel yourself slipping towards sleep.

“Don’t fall asleep just yet.” You feel the couch cushions rise up around you as Eijiro gets up and onto his feet. “We gotta clean you up first.”

You hear the floorboards creak as he pads his way back to your tiny bathroom. Distantly, you hear him turn the faucets of your tub as he starts to draw a bath. You let yourself drift off for a few moments, content with your lot in life. You’ve got the best boyfriend in the world, and now you get to have his child. What could be better? You doze.

You startle awake when you feel Eijiro lift you off the couch and into his arms. You rest your head against his bare chest and hear his heartbeat against the shell of your ear. The steady rhythm is music to your ears, and you snuggle into him as much as you can. You hear him chuckle as he carries you off towards the bathroom.

“Babe…I think that maybe we should think about telling the press about us. What with the baby and all…I want to keep you safe, but I don’t want people to think that I just knocked you up with a secret love child or something. Not very manly.” He pauses, sucking in a breath. “And as for the safety part…maybe I can train you up a bit, show you ways to use your quirk to defend yourself. I can’t always be around to protect you, but you’re strong. And I know you’re capable of protecting yourself.”

These words jolt you fully awake. “You mean that, Eijiro?” Then you add teasingly: “Being my Baby Daddy changed your mind?” Eijiro chuckles at this new title in a way that tells you he’s elated to be your “baby daddy.”

“Of course I mean it, babe. If anyone can figure all of this shit out, it’s the two of us. Ya know?”

“Yeah, I know.” You say, your brain whirring to process all that he’s said. “But I don’t mind keeping our private life private. This baby. This family – it’s ours, and no one else’s. Fuck what the public thinks.”

“I guess we have a lot to talk about.” He says, finally coming to a stop in the steamy bathroom. “But we don’t need to figure it all out right this moment.”

You look up at his strong, handsome face and bring a hand up to trace his jawline.

“You’re so beautiful, Eij.” He blushes at the compliment, flustered. You know he loves being called things like “manly” and “handsome,” but he has a weak spot for softer compliments as well. Your himbo boyfriend loves to be admired softly, loves your gentle praise. “You’re so sweet and good to me.”

“Heh, does this mean that you’re gonna change your phone background back to a pic of me instead of John Wick?” Eijiro leans down to plant a kiss on your temple.

You stifle a laugh. “Yeah, I guess. If it would make ya happy.”

“It would.” He kisses you again. “You ready for a bath, sweetheart? I can do most of the work if you’re too tired.” You nod at him, eyes half lidded. You’re so damn sleepy. You feel like you just had a whole body workout and then some.

Slowly, sweetly, Eijiro lowers you into the bathtub. He moves slowly, letting you get used to the water as you sink down into it. The temperature is perfect – not too cool, not too scathingly hot. Eijiro knows you so well, down to your perfect water temperature. Your bum hits the bottom of the tub and you sit up, surprised at the mountains of bubbles towering around your head.

“I got a little carried away with the bubble bath mix.” He says, cupping some of the frothy suds in his hands and blowing them across the bathroom. You look at him lovingly – he’s going to make such a good dad.

You look up at him, grinning. You blow some bubbles in his direction before gesturing for him to join you.

“Get in here, Eij. There’s plenty of room for a family of three.”

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lolxdswag123 · 2 months ago

Text

Long week

Percy Jackson x reader

Summary: Percy and yn have been best friends for ages. They’ve been through everything together, and have become completely inseparable. When they finally get to New Rome University, they manage to get even closer. All it takes is one phone call to completely turn the tables of their relationship.

Warnings: 18+

I yawned, scratching my head as I tried for the hundredth time to understand the gibberish that was coming out of my professor’s mouth.

You’d think after years at boarding school’s and training at Camp Half-Blood that I would’ve mastered topics like history and science, but nope. Not even close.

I knew I’d have to go to Annabeth for tutoring, again, before my midterms— but that was a problem for next week. It was Friday, so I finally had some time to relax, and I was not going to take that for granted.

I strolled out of the lecture hall, with only a mild headache, and headed straight to my best friend’s dorm. We’d established a routine in the beginning of the semester of coming to each other’s dorms every day after class, and today it was my turn to go to his.

I was just about ready to crash by the time I got to his hall, but still couldn’t fight the smile that took over my face as I knocked on his door.

The only reason I was able to get through my first year at New Rome University was Percy. I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to continue with school after my horrible experience with boarding schools in the past, but I couldn’t imagine being without him for an entire year. We’d been best friends since we were 14, and been through Tartarus together. Literally. Being away from him made me feel like I was missing a piece of myself.

My first year was rough. I missed home, camp, and my grades were struggling. But it wasn’t just me— Percy had it rough too. They barely even let him in the school, and once they finally did it was not smooth sailing for him. It wasn’t until midway through the year that we finally figured everything out.

We would stay in eachother’s dorms— or the library— or a diner in town— pretty much anywhere that we could be together— until we got all of our homework done, then we would hangout until one of us would fall asleep every night. After that, everything turned around. School got easier, life got better, we became even more inseparable.

I knocked on his door, and it immediately swung open as my best friend pulled me into his room. I dropped my bag on the floor, kicking off my shoes and immediately face planted onto his bed.

I could hear him chuckle from behind me as he shut the door, “Rough day?” He asked.

“I can’t keep sitting through those miserable classes,” I said, bringing a hand up to massage my temple in emphasis.

I could feel the mattress dip beside me, and Percy’s hand replaced mine to rub my temple. “I know. It sucks, but at least we can relax this weekend.”

I nod, turning my head to the side to look up at him. He moves his hand to rest on my cheek and taps gently. I close my eyes, relaxing with his touch.

It was times like this that had initially started making me question our friendship. Right after the Titan War, we had gotten a lot more comfortable with each other. I had a hard time being away from him, even when we were next to each other, and I know he felt the same— so we often would lean on one another, hold hands, and find any way for us to be close together. It took me until last year to realize how desperately I really needed to be close to him, but I kept that bit to myself.

It had been a year since Percy Jackson gained the ability to make my heart flutter, but our friendship wasn’t worth risking by admitting it.

“What do you want to do?” Percy broke my train of thought as he continued to tap on my cheek.

I shrugged, smiling up at him and replied, “Relax.”

He stood up, and I instantly felt cold from the lack of contact. He kicked off his shoes, and shrugged off his zip-up before crawling up into his bed with me. I moved close to him, resting my head against his arm.

“Wanna get takeout?” He asked, reaching his hand to my head again and playing with my hair, “my mom said she’ll pay.”

I smiled, “I really love your mom.”

He laughed, “She loves you…” he froze for a minute, fumbling for his phone and saying, “She actually asked me to call her, if you don’t mind.”

I shook my head, adjusting my position so I was now sitting up next to him against the headboard, and I let my head fall to his shoulder. “I don’t mind,” I said, stifling a yawn.

He started FaceTiming his mom, and I wrapped my arms around his arm that was closest to me. I knew I was being overly clingy today, but I had a rough week, and he was the only thing that made me feel at home.

The phone continued ringing and I could feel Percy’s eyes heavy on me. I looked up to see him looking at me with slight confusion, so I backed up immediately, unwrapping myself from his arm.

He shook his head immediately, “come here,” he said, extending his arm back out to me just as the phone picked up.

“Percy!” I hear Sally Jackson-Blofis’s voice from the other side of the phone, but I look at Percy for another moment, unable to fight the hutterlies in my stomach.

“Hi, mom,” he said, smiling at her face through the phone. One of the perks of New Rome was that we were finally able to use normal mortal technology. Finally.

“How was your week?” Sally asked, and Percy looked back to me, extending his arm at me again to grab.

I moved back to my previous position, and I could still feel his eyes on me. I was just slightly out of the frame, but seeing Sally’s smiling face made me happy.

“Percy?” Sally asked, noticing his distraction.

“Sorry, what’d you say?” He asked, looking back to tbe phone.

“I asked how your week was, sweetie,” Sally said, laughing at her son’s behavior.

“It was good,” Percy said nodding, “Have you gotten any more writing done?”

Sally nodded, her face lighting up, “I finished my twelfth chapter of my new novel this week!”

“Yeah mom!” Percy said excitedly, “That’s incredible.”

I smiled, their connection warmed my heart. I wanted to congratulate her as well, but I wasn’t sure if Percy just wanted to share that moment with her alone, so I kept quiet, shifting quietly to allow myself to get more comfortable. I threw my legs over his, leaning back into the headboard a little bit more.

He looked at me again, his expression indiscernible, but his eyes heavy on my face.

“Is someone there, Percy?” I hear his mom ask, and my eyes widen.

He turns back to the camera and smiles, “Yeah, it’s just yn.” He moves the camera to show me and I back away from him a little bit and wave.

“Yn!!!” Sally exclaims, “how are you, honey? I miss your face!”

I smile, immediately getting into a conversation with her, catching up on anything and everything. The entire time I can feel Percy’s eyes heavy on my face.

“Well, I’ll let you two go,” Sally says eventually, “where are you getting dinner from?”

Percy turns the camera back to himself, shrugging, and says, “we haven’t figured it out yet.”

“Thank you for offering to pay, Mrs. Jackson-Blofis,” I say, now in the background of the FaceTime call.

“Oh, anytime sweetie,” she replies, “Are you two just hanging out together tonight?”

I smile, “Yeah, Annabeth is busy with one of her many clubs, so it’s just us tonight.”

Percy rolls his eyes just before Sally says, “You two know to be safe, right?”

I nearly choke on my own breath, leaving the frame and covering my face with my hands in embarrassment.

“Mom!” Percy says, his voice full of irritation, “I’m going now, okay?”

“I’m serious, Percy!” Sally says, “It’s very important and-“

“We’re just friends, mom,” Percy said as I sat up, still covering most of my face which had turned bright red.

“Okay, well I sent those-“

“Mom!!” Percy said, “okay, bye, love you, talk to you later,” he trailed off as he ended the call.

We sat in silence for a heavy awkward moment, before Percy cleared his throat, “sorry about that.”

I nod, clearing my throat, still feeling heat in my face, but I decide to change the topic. “Sooo… dinner?”

He nods, pulling up options on his phone. We sit there quietly for a while, both scrolling on our phones, only pausing every once in a while to show each other a video.

I could feel my heart thrumming in my chest, but I went against my better judgement and moved closer to him again. It was just an awkward moment, but that didn’t have to change anything between us.

He instantly wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his side.

This was new. We had never even gotten close to cuddling before. Sure, we shared casual touches every now and then, and we’d laid in bed together, but never this close. My stomach fluttered, and I glanced up at him quickly only to find that he was already looking at me.

“You’re clingy today,” he said softly, pulling me closer into his side.

“Sorry,” I looked back at my phone, feeling slightly awkward again, “It’s been a long week.”

“I like it,” I hear him say, although his voice shakes, like he’s not sure if he should say it.

I look back up at him, and feel his eyes boring into my face, before saying, “You do?”

He nods, licking his lips, and looking away. He doesn’t speak for what feels like a century, but when he finally does he says, “I’m about to do something really stupid.”

“What?” I asked, confused.

“I’m going to do something stupid, and if I’m being an idiot and you hate it— just tell me and we can pretend it never happened.” He said quickly, stumbling over his words.

I could feel his hand shaking from my side, and he turns back to look at me, fear in his eyes.

“Percy, you’re scaring me…” I say, looking into his eyes.

His shaky hands reach up to cup my face, and he slowly leans in.

Oh shit. Oh shit.

His lips touch mine softly, and it feels like years of unresolved feelings are finally being poured out of me and everything goes blurry. I kiss him back, reaching up to run a hand through his hair.

He pulls away, looking into my eyes, checking for confirmation that this is okay. I pull him to me again with my hand in his hair, and kiss him harder. He freezes for a second before quickly responding. He drops a hand to my waist and pulls me closer, continuing to kiss me passionately.

I pull him in more, kissing him more deeply, as I allow his tongue to enter my mouth. My breath is heavy out of my nose, but I continue letting him kiss me. He pulls me from my waist to sit on his lap, and I quickly oblige, not breaking the kiss. He removes his lips from mine, trailing rough kisses along my jaw and down my neck.

“Percy…” I whisper, breathlessly.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Shit. Our food.

I flung myself off of him, scratching the back of my neck and standing to get the door. I take the food from the delivery man, giving him some drachmas from my pocket as a tip.

When I turn back around, Percy’s head is thrown back, staring at the ceiling.

“You okay?” I ask, setting the food on his desk.

He looks at me, smiling bashfully, rubbing the back of his own neck, “Terrible timing.”

I nod, blushing and turning back to his desk.

“Are you hungry right now?” He asked, stepping down from his bed and walking up behind me.

“Starving,” I reply honestly, “You?”

He wraps his arms around my waist, resting his head on my shoulder and my knees go weak.

“Eh, kinda.” He says, his voice right next to my ear.

“Well, I’m going to eat, and-“

“Was that okay?” He interrupts, spinning me around to look at him.

I feel heat rise to my face quickly, but I nod, “That was definitely okay,” I whisper.

“Are you sure? Because if it wasn’t, I want to know. I don’t ever want to ruin our friendship, it’s way too important to me, and I know I was being kind of an idi-“

I reach up to his face, and press a soft kiss to his lips, shaking my head and smiling as I pull away, “I have wanted you to do that for a while.”

His eyes widen, and his arms tighten around my waist, “I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

I smiled, wrapping my arms around him in an embrace. We stood there like that for a moment before pulling away and deciding to eat.

When we finished eating, we decided to put on a movie, and laid on his bed together a few inches apart.

“Come here,” he said, pulling me close to him as he did earlier.

I moved closer to him, resting my head against his shoulder and held onto his arm. I never feel more at home than I do with him. I smile at the thought, feeling a blush rise to my face.

We watch the movie in silence for a bit, and I even doze off at one point, until Percy wakes me up.

“Yn?” He asks, looking down at me.

“Hm?” I asked, blinking my eyes open and backing up to look up at him.

“Were you sleeping,” he asks, studying my face.

“I guess I dozed off,” I said, resting my chin against his shoulder while holding eye contact.

“That’s so cute,” he says with a quirk of a smile tugging at his lips.

I roll my eyes, sitting up and resting my weight on my arms behind me. “I guess I should probably head out soon.”

His brows furrow, and he sits up, searching my face before saying, “Do you want to stay?”

“Stay?” I asked, taken aback at his question, my face heating up immediately.

“Unless that’s too much,” he said quickly, “It’s totally up to you.”

I smiled, shaking my head, and softly said, “No, no, that’s okay, I’ll just run back to my place to get a change of clothes. Then I’ll stay.”

He nodded, a smile overtaking his face, and laid back down on his bed, looking up at me.

“You can just borrow my clothes, if you want,” he said quietly, still looking at me.

I blushed, nodding, and stepping down from his bed.

“I have sweatpants in the bottom drawer and my shirts are in the closet, you can take anything,” he said, turning toward the wall to give me privacy.

I grabbed a pair of sweatpants and t shirt from his closet, and quickly changed, folding my clothes and setting them next to my bag on the floor. I was feeling overwhelmingly awkward, but also extremely comfortable. This boy had been my best friend for years, it was next to impossible to feel uncomfortable around him.

Without warning, I climbed back into his bed, getting comfortable under his blankets. He turned to face me, smiling affectionately as his gaze traveled over my clothing.

He breathed deeply, exhaling when he said, “You look really good in my clothes.”

I blushed, wrapping my arms around his neck and tucking my head into his chest, feeling shy with his gaze on me. He wrapped an arm around my back, pulling me close and resting his chin on top of my head.

We laid there for a bit, and I nearly dozed off before I remembered what his mom was saying earlier. I didn’t want to make it awkward, but I was slightly curious since it seemed to come out of nowhere.

“Percy?” I whispered into his neck, unsure if he was still awake.

“Yeah?” He asked, shuffling slightly, pulling me closer. “Want me to turn off the light?” He asked.

I nodded, letting go of his neck and backing up enough so that he could get up to turn the lights out.

Before he laid back down I decided to ask, “What was your mom talking about earlier? That was so random.”

“Oh, gods,” he said humorously, “Before we came back to school after fall break, she found out that we’d been spending so much time together and insisted on having the talk with me. It was miserable.”

I laughed, picturing an awkward Percy listening to his mom lecture him.

“Yeah,” he said sarcastically, “Really funny.”

I felt the bed dip again next to me and instantly his hands were reaching out to pull me close again, which I didn’t mind at all.

“You want to know the worst part?” He whispered once he was settled. I could feel his breath on my face, and knew he was only a few inches from me.

“What?” I asked, feeling butterflies with our close proximity.

He laughed, pulling me even closer so that our limbs became tangled together, and said, “She bought me condoms to take back, they’ve been sitting in my suitcase for weeks.”

I froze, my eyes widening at the possibility of such intense intimacy sitting just feel away from us. I shook the thought out of my head, laughing gently along with him.

“That’s crazy,” I said, shaking my head again.

I tucked my head back into his chest, tugging him as close as possible, and deciding to continue, “Good to know.”

I heard his breath catch right above me, but he said nothing for a few moments. When he decided to speak, he frantically said, “Obviously I didn’t say that because I was expecting anything, I’m definitely not, I would never even want to do anything unless you did, but obviously you don’t ever even have to want to if you’re not interested, sorry. I shouldn’t have even mentioned it.”

I waited for him to finish, then pulled away to where I thought I’d be able to see his face. I could barely make out his features in the dark, but still tried to look in his eyes.

“I’m glad you mentioned it,” I said quietly, playing with his hair in one hand, “And when the time comes, I’m glad we’ll be prepared.”

I heard his breath catch again, and a moment after felt his lips on mine again. This time it was eager, and electric. His hand pressed into my waist, bringing me closer as mine wrapped around his neck.

He kissed me hard, full of emotion and I fully reciprocated. He rolled me onto my back, kicking my legs apart and settling in between them, pressing me into the mattress. I gasped, reaching my hands up to run through his hair as he continued to kiss me.

In the dark, with our hands and mouths on each other, it felt like we were the only people in the world that existed. No school work mattered, no tasks from the gods mattered, only us, in this moment.

He pulled away, immediately beginning to kiss my next as he had earlier. I tilted my head back, giving him more space to continue. My hands trailed down, reaching the bottom of his t shirt and slid under the hem. I could feel him tense, but then his lips were on mine again, kissing desperately.

I decided to test the waters, allowing my hands to trail up slightly, feeling his toned abdomen beneath my fingers.

He pulled away from my lips, panting heavily as he mumbled, “Off?”

I pulled my hands away, slightly confused, “What?” I asked.

He sat up between my legs, and I could just barely see him tugging at the hem of his shirt in the dark, before he repeated himself, “You want this off?”

“Yes.”

Seconds later, he returned to my lips and my hands were trailing over his chest and back, my legs squeezing around his hips. He began trailing kisses down my jaw, grasping at my hips and thighs, and I could feel him adjusting his own hips between my legs.

I gasped at his lips on my neck, and whispered, “Mine too?”

He pulled away, this time he was the one who was confused. “What?” He said breathlessly.

Without another word I sat forward, lifting his t-shirt over my head, and laying back to my previous position, pulling him in for another kiss. His hands stayed at my waist, gripping intensely.

I kissed him passionately, but reached to grab one of his hands and move it to my chest. He pulled away, panting, “gods, y/n.”

We continued making out for a while, but it eventually slowed down, and we laid beside each other, breathing heavily.

I must have dozed off to sleep, because the next thing I knew I was waking up with an arm pressed against my skin, wrapped around my body holding me close. A light snore was coming from behind me, and I smiled to myself, recalling the events of last night.

I turned gently, trying not to wake him, and gave him a light kiss on the cheek. He opened his eyes slowly, focusing on my face and smiling.

“Morning,” he mumbled, still half asleep.

“Good morning,” I said, watching him wake up.

“Can you stay here every night?” He said sleepily, pulling me closer to him, so that our bare chests were touching.

I laughed, shaking my head and realizing that I probably would if he wanted me to. I would do anything for him, I love him.

#percy jackson imagine #pjo fandom #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson smut #percy jackson masterlist #percy jackson #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #pjo masterlist #pjo hoo toa #leo valdez x y/n #leo valdez x you #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez smut #jason grace #luke castellan #luke castellan smut

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cozykali · 1 year ago

Text

Heartbeats (Astarion’s POV)

I downloaded Baldur’s gate 3 and immediately feel for this sexy vampire the moment he tackled me to the ground and held a knife to my neck. I’m in act 2 right now (no spoilers!) and the brainrot is BAD. I’ve read some amazing period sex fics involving Astarion but I wanted to craft one from his perspective. Let me know your thoughts!

Master list can be found here!

Pairing: Astarion x fem Tav/reader

Rating: SMUT! NSFW, 18+, Minors DNI

Words: 4700

TW: (this fic is FLITHY), mentions of death and dying, biting (duh), drinking blood, period sex, blood kink, oral (fem receiving), unprotected P in V, kissing, fingers, stalking, multiple Os, passing out, blood-loss, mentions of past torture/trauma, tension, begging, fluffy ending, ‘who did this to you?’,

Notes: Tav and Astarion have been travelling together for a few weeks. No romance scenes have happened yet, but she allows him to feed on her nearly every night. She hasn’t seen his scars yet. Tav is on her period and it’s making her vampire friend go crazy. Tav has feelings for Astarion but hasn’t acted upon them. This story is told from Astarion’s perspective. Tav can be any race or class you want (probably not durge though).

Bonus: Check out this massive playlist I made inspired by Astarion!

The fading fire crackled softly; its once licking flames now reduced to gentle, glowing embers. A thin line of smoke ascends into the damp air that coats the earth in a delicate layer of cool dew.

Astarion lies beside the fire on his bedroll, flat on his back, with his arms slightly splayed at his sides. Most nights, he is grateful that he doesn’t need sleep like his companions do. He can immerse himself in the peaceful sounds of the night, meditate, slow his breath, and calm his mind without slipping into unconsciousness. This ability had saved his life on more than one occasion.

However, tonight is different. Tonight, he wishes for sleep to claim him. He longs to drift away and escape the torment of the spell unknowingly cast upon him by Tav. He turns his head to gaze through the soft light of the fire in her direction.

Tav is laying on her side facing the fire, her mouth slightly open as she emits soft snores barely audible over the crackling flames. But what troubles Astarion tonight is her scent. It wafts through the acrid smoke of the fire like a gentle breeze through a sail, sweet as usual, but it’s currently mixed with blood and musk.

Astarion has been avoiding Tav for the better part of two days now. Whenever she drew near, he held his breath and averted his gaze. He knew he must keep his distance from her, because the alternative would be ripping her apart, which would not win any favors with the rest of the party.

Tav has also been careful around him. She must know that he can sense her menses. Despite inviting him to feed on her each night for nearly two weeks, tonight she did not proposition him, nor the night before. Last night, his attempt to catch a deer had been futile, leaving Tav as his last meal.

Lying on his bedroll, Astarion stares up at the stars, after a seemingly endless eternity for an immortal being, he hears Tav stir slightly. He glances over at her curiously, hoping she doesn’t notice his gaze. She lets out a quiet groan, clutching her lower stomach before curling into a fetal position, her face contorted in pain. Moments later, she slowly starts to rise.

Tav stumbles to fetch a flask of water, guzzling it down greedily. Astarion envies her ease in quenching her thirst while his own thirst rages inside him. Before long, he senses her absence, her scent growing fainter. He debates whether to leave her to sort herself out, but the primal urge to hunt and stalk his prey cannot be ignored.

Rising slowly, Astarion follows her scent through the trees to a nearby stream. His movements are fluid and silent as he approaches her. Tav is kneeling in front of the water, wringing out a blood-soaked cloth.

"Seems such a waste to wash that delicious blood away, darling," Astarion's voice, silky and smooth as velvet, slices through the night like a dagger. Tav lets out a startled squeal, spinning to face him.

"Astarion!" Her voice cracks with surprise as she stumbles back, but his hand shoots out to steady her, his touch cool against the small of her back as he prevents her from falling into the rocky stream.

His gaze is locked onto Tav's eyes, wide with astonishment, her pupils are dilated so only faint rings of color remain around dark voids. With his keen elven senses, he can hear the rapid thrum of her heart beneath her chest. Releasing her gently, Astarion steps back, his posture graceful and poised.

"Sorry, my dear," he says, softening his tone to one less intimidating. "I was merely ensuring no creatures were stalking you in the night as you wandered off. There are far worse dangers in these woods than bears, you know?"

"You mean like you?" Tav's words are sharp, but Astarion detects the faint quiver of her bottom lip.

"I just prevented you from bashing your skull on those wet rocks, and this is the gratitude I receive?" Astarion scoffs.

"I wouldn't have nearly slipped if you hadn't snuck up on me, asshole," Tav retorts, pushing him in the chest, though his feet remain firmly planted.

"Oh, my, you look adorable when you're angry," Astarion can’t help but smirk at her.

Tav lets out a frustrated grunt, attempting to stomp away, but Astarion catches her arm before she can pass him. Confusion clouds her face as she searches for an explanation for his unusual behavior. The facade of his usual sassy indifference had vanished, replaced by a tumult of desire and longing.

"Are you here to bite me?" Tav's voice trembles, strained as if she’s fighting back a scream. "I thought you were better than that. You promised me you wouldn’t feed on me unless I asked you to."

Astarion reaches out and takes the wet cloth from her hand, the hunger gnawing at him like a demon. Shamelessly, he presses it to his face, inhaling deeply. His vision is blurred, his head swimming in the intoxicating scent of her body that lingers on the fabric.

"Astarion, knock it off! You’re freaking me out," Tav snaps, snatching the cloth back and tossing it into the dirt.

"Tav," he whimpers, hating the desperation in his voice. Slowly, he releases her wrist, turning away to pinch his brows in an attempt to ease the splitting headache caused by her overwhelming scent.

"What in the hells is wrong with you?" Tav's voice remains cold, but concern flickers in her eyes as she speaks. She feels sorry for him.

Astarion straightens his stance, clearing his throat. "I apologize that I disturbed you. I’m not thinking straight," he announces before turning to walk back to camp.

"Wait," Tav said, and he freezes.

"I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you. That I haven’t asked you to bite me the past few nights. I know you must know I’m on my period," she admits, her gaze fixed on the ground. "I didn’t know how you felt about it. I can see now that it’s driving you to madness, but I thought ignoring it was the best course of action. It’s embarrassing, really, and I’m having terrible pains in my stomach."

Astarion closes the distance between them in two swift strides.

"It’s hard to see you like this, so crazed with hunger, and I…" Tav's words falter as Astarion gently places his hand under her chin, lifting her face to meet his.

"Shh, Tav, my sweet. You’re going to put me in a second grave," he murmurs.

To his surprise, Tav presses her face into his with a gentle kiss, and Astarion's eyes close as a deep growl rumbles from his chest.

Tav removes her lips, "I’m sorry that was stupid of me to…" but Astarion wraps his arms around her and pulls her closer, pressing her body against his. He kisses her ravenously. His sharp fangs scrape softly on her bottom lip. A sensation of an unraveling overwhelms Astarion as he kisses Tav. It's a mixture of desire, longing, and perhaps even a hint of vulnerability. This feeling is unfamiliar to him, stirring emotions he's long kept buried beneath his cool exterior.

She relaxes in his arms, sinking deeper into his kiss. Her hand reaches up to ruffle his soft white curls while the other slips under his linen shirt, exploring the ridges and lines of his abdomen.

As they momentarily break their kiss, Astarion feels a rush of dizziness. He gently brushes her hair away from her neck and nuzzles into the curve of her shoulder. His tongue traces the faint marks on her skin, remnants of the nightly feedings he's had days prior. Despite the hunger clawing at him, he restrains himself from indulging further.

His hands, trembling with desire, slide down to the hem of Tav's shirt. He breathes against her ear, his voice a husky whisper, "May I?" Without a word, she responds by lifting her arms, granting him permission. In one smooth motion, he pulls the shirt over her head, revealing her skin. Astarion’s hands cup her breasts. The soft sound she emits as his mouth finds her nipple is music to his ears.

"Please, I need to taste you." He pleas between nibbles and licks on her chest. He no longer feels ashamed by his desperation.

"Oh, Astarion." Tav smiles, "You look so pretty when you beg."

“Gods," he groans, then steps back to remove his shirt before kneeling to the ground in front of her, his pale skin glowing in the moonlight. "Tav," his voice is deep and soft, "I beg you." His hands reach out to grab her waist. "Let me taste you." He rests his forehead softly on her bare stomach. She places her hands on his and slides them down, encouraging him to remove her pants. Astarion is nearly trembling with anticipation as he helps her step out of her garments.

"Hold on," she stops him before he rips off her underwear. The bloodied rag that was freshly changed before he found her, was now soiled again with arousal and blood. "Should we find somewhere more comfortable?" She offers him her hand to help him rise back up.

Astarion feels lightheaded for a moment as he returns to his feet. However, as soon as he regains his balance, he scoops Tav up and carries her with remarkable speed to a clearing near the stream, where the ground is more sand than rocks. He lays Tav down on her back. He crawls towards her slowly, until his thigh is pressed firmly against her sex. As he lowers himself to kiss her once more, he gently hooks his other leg under hers and slides it up slowly, allowing her legs to part for him.

"Astarion?" She whispers to him when their kiss breaks, "You can feed on me tonight if you like."

He doesn’t even recognize the deep, feral growl that escapes his throat in response. "I was so hoping you would say that darling."

Astarion kisses his way down Tav’s stomach. She squirms at the feeling of his fangs brushing lightly on her ribs. He catches the waistband of her undergarments between his teeth and slides them down her legs to remove them.

He stops to hover over Tav for a moment now that she’s fully undressed. He savors the look she’s giving him through hooded eyes. Pausing, he appreciates the beauty of her bare skin splayed before him, relishing her scent before he consumes her.

"You’re too good to me, my pretty thing. I don’t deserve this, and I don’t deserve you." Astarion remarks before his head dips between her legs.

Astarion flattens his tongue and licks her once slowly, bottom to top. Tav tastes unbelievable. It still tastes like her blood, metallic and rich, but it’s enhanced with the flavor of her slick arousal, the must of her sweat, the flesh of her womb. If the blood in her veins is his water, his life source, the blood between her legs is like the finest of wines.

The hums and moans that leave Astarion's throat as he devours her are so animalistic, he can hardly hear Tav’s whines. He licks up every drop until she is clean then sticks his tongue deep inside her searching for more. His nose rubs in a side-to-side motion, pressed firmly against her apex, as his tongue explores.

"Oh gods, Astarion!" Tav gasps. He feels a slight sting on his scalp as she grabs a fistful of his silver curls while rocking her hips to match the speed of his tongue.

"I need more," Astarion rasps. His lips close around her bud He slides two slender fingers inside of her and starts pumping them in and out, coaxing out more blood. Her moans fill his ears like a siren’s song, adding to his pleasure. He can feel her insides tightening around his digits.

"Astarion. I…" Tav’s sentence is cut off by a wail of pleasure. He can smell the ecstasy flooding her blood, hear her heart pounding in her chest, and feel her body spasm and quake where he touches her. He doesn’t change the pace of his tongue or hand, dragging out her orgasm until she is panting and spent. He removes his fingers from her to lick them clean like a cat and notices a small trickle of blood leaking out of her.

"You may have just finished, darling, but I am not done yet. Nothing compares to the sound of my name cried from your lips, and I intend to hear it again." Astarion’s face dips back down to clean her folds. The amount of blood he can get from her body is not nearly enough to fill him. He needs to feed soon, a real meal, a pint of blood or more, not just a taste. But it can wait; the taste is too divine to stop.

Astarion hooks his arms under her thighs and flips onto his back, pulling her with him in one smooth motion. He grabs her hips as he forces her to a sitting position on his face, drinking her in. She shrieks and tries to pull away.

"Astarion, I need a minute. It’s too much." He releases his hands and stares up at her face with mid concern while she hovers over him. He tries to imagine how he looks to her right now.

"Can I ask you to be my mirror again, love?" He recalls the evening Tav found him looking at his empty reflection.

She studies him. "Your pretty face is absolutely covered with blood," she states. "Your lips are puffy and swollen. Your skin is thin and pale, paler than usual. Then there are your eyes…" she pauses, "they’re so red right now that they nearly glow in the light of the stars. There is nothing human, or even elf, left in them. They are the eyes of a monster."

Astarion grins wide, displaying his sharp fangs to her, "I am a monster, dear. Now can you please let me get back to consuming my prey?" His tongue extends from his mouth to lap against her swollen sensitive skin.

Tav tilts her head back and moans, exposing the full length of her gorgeous neck. Her back arches as she lowers herself onto his lips. Astarion grumbles in satisfaction when the taste of her dances on his tongue again. He grabs her thighs, in case she decides to pull away again, but instead she lowers onto him more, smothering him. She rocks against him, rubbing herself against his mouth and nose.

His lungs burn slightly, but he doesn’t need to breathe air to survive; it’s just a matter of an unconscious habit from before he turned into a vampire spawn. He needs air in his lungs to be able to speak, and it’s slightly uncomfortable if his lungs go without air for extended periods of time. He represses the memories of torture he had to endure over the centuries, where Cazador would deprive him of air for days just to watch him struggle. Astarion silently scolds himself for focusing on his lungs when his attention should be on the woman on top of him.

Tav bends her back further and places her hand on his waste to steady herself. Her hand brushes against the swollen bulge in his leather pants. His other primal urge is nothing more than an annoyance compared to his crazed lust to feed. But Astarion doesn’t protest when she starts to pet him through his pants as she continues to use his face like a toy. His pants suddenly feel uncomfortably tight.

"Astarion!" His name sounds like a symphony when it exits her body. She collapses forward, cradling his head with her arms. He drinks her in, savoring all his senses. His hands run up and down her bare thighs that seem to burn with heat. She rolls off him and lands in the sandy dirt of the bank, lying flat on her back beside him. They breathe in sync, shallow and hard.

"Tav, I…" Astarion pants, still laying on his back. "I need to feed."

"I know, I told you that you could. It’s not enough, right? Down there I mean. I figured as much. Why didn’t you just go for my neck in the first place? Why starve yourself on tiny mouthfuls when you can just bite me?"

"The taste," he whispers, "It’s addictive. I can’t stop." He swipes a finger between her legs and places the pad of it against his tongue and groans.

"Astarion?" Tav rolls onto her side to gaze into his eyes. She places her hand against the puncture marks on her neck from his fangs. "Bite me."

Astarion rises to his feet. Stars briefly dance across his vision, then fade. He is again reminded of the throbbing of his groin and decides to remove his confining leather pants and exposes himself to her. It seems only fair to be as naked as she is.

Tav’s eyes bulge and her jaw slacks as she stares at him. She props herself up on her elbows and slowly opens her legs to him. The wanting look she gives him is the closest thing he’ll get to a reflection of his own eyes. He waits, tension coiling in his muscles in anticipation as he searches her expression for the words he longs to hear.

"Darling, I am supposed to be the one looking at you like a feast laid before me, but here you are, looking at me like I’m a fresh baked pie. I could practically wipe away your drool." He smirks down at her. His hand lazily strokes his length to tease her.

Tav's lips form the word "Please," her voiceless plea echoing in the quiet night.

"Please what, my pet?" Astarion teases, his voice low and filled with anticipation, as he listens to the rapid rhythm of her heart, quickening like a drumbeat.

"Please. I want you to bite me while you fuck me." Her voice deepens, her eyelids are heavy with lust. Astarion’s stomach flips, and he pounces onto her like a fox catching a mouse.

"Such a filthy little mouth you have." He tuts. While he arranges himself over Tav. It's a familiar position that they have practiced nearly every night since she invited him to feed on her, only this time they are skin to skin. His face lingers over her neck, his breath cools her blazing skin. The tip of his shaft is posed at her entrance. She bucks her hips in response, and he sinks into her partially, then withdrawals.

"You are mine." Astarion whispers into her neck. Pressing his lips to the partially healed wound from his last bite as he enters her again, sinking his entire length into her. Tav cries out in response, but he doesn’t move.

"Astarion, please," She whines. He raises himself onto the palms of his hands to look at her. Her eyes are glossy, tears are forming in the corners.

"Tav, Darling, you look so pretty when you beg." He echoes her earlier words. He wishes he could hold out a little longer to see how far he could tease her until she breaks, but his need to feed is too intense. He starts slowly pumping in and out. Her eyes close and her mouth opens wide in pleasure. She feels amazing, so tight, so soft, so wet with blood and arousal.

Tav places her hands on Astarion’s back and digs her nails in, only to pull away quickly when she feels the bumps of the scars she hasn’t yet seen. She opens her mouth to mention it but he quickly covers it with his blood stained lips. His tongue slips past her lips and moves with the same rhythm of his thrusts. She moans into his mouth as his pace quickens. Then he breaks her kiss to purr into her ear, ‘Do you taste yourself on my lips, beautiful? It’s delicious, isn’t it? You taste divine.’

Tav shivers beneath him and lets out a sob. His lips brush down her neck. Astarion snarls to expose his sharp, elongated canines then grazes them against her throat, ready to strike. His thrusts never stop, slamming into her repeatedly, as he finally sinks his teeth into her neck and sucks her blood.

"Oh fuck, Astarion!" Tav releases a scream and falls apart under him. Shaking and panting while grinding against him. He can taste the electricity of her climax surge through her blood as her heart beats with a steady rhythm, allowing the blood to flow through her veins until it reaches his mouth. Astarion feels a rush stronger than any drug, more enchanting than any spell or potion. Her walls spasm around him, while he slurps against her neck. He sucks her blood with intense force. Pinning her under him. He can’t stop.

After several moments of bliss, he notices she has gone completely still beneath him. It takes all his willpower to unlatch his fangs before he sits up quickly.

"Shit’." A wave of panic washes over Astarion as he inspects Tav. Her skin appears paler, almost gray. Her breaths come slow and shallow, and her heartbeat is faint and stuttering. Without hesitation, he scoops up her limp body and wades into the waist-deep waters of the nearby stream, gently lowering her in. The water feels warm against his skin, though he himself is generally cooler than most creatures. He hopes the temperature doesn’t send her body further into shock.

As he holds her in the water, Astarion's mind races with worst-case scenarios. He imagines having to speak with Withers to revive her, dreading the thought of explaining his actions to the rest of the camp. Tav won’t easily forgive him this time, he fears. He might be cast out or even killed. He curses himself for following her out here in the first place. She was right to avoid him these past few days.

Just as he begins to entertain thoughts of escape, Tav’s soft voice cuts through his spiraling thoughts. "Star?"

Relief floods through him. "Oh, thank the gods, Tav. I’m truly sorry. I got a little carried away." He holds her tighter against his chest, feeling her shiver against him.

"Cold," Tav manages to say, her voice barely above a whisper. Astarion carries her out of the water and gently sets her down in a patch of soft grass. He hurries to gather their scattered clothes, helping her dress into her pants and shirt. He wraps his own rumpled white shirt around her for extra warmth, then puts on his pants before rinsing the remaining blood from his face in the stream.

Returning to her side, Astarion finds her hugging her legs, the color slowly returning to her face. "Let’s get you back to camp near the fire. I’ll wake Shadowheart to see if she can heal you," he suggests, wrapping his arm around her.

Tav turns to him, her voice airy and soft. "No, I think I'll manage until morning." Astarion kisses her forehead as she embraces him, her hands rubbing slow circles on his back.

"Turn around," Tav demands, and he complies, allowing her to view the intricate scars covering his entire back. She traces them with her fingers. "What happened to you?" Her voice carries a tone of pity, and Astarion swallows a lump in his throat.

"It’s a poem," He explains calmly. "Cazador did it to me. He took his time. I don’t know what it says."

"Oh, Astarion, I’m so sorry," Tav responds with compassion that almost irritates him.

"You’re sorry?" Astarion snaps, turning to face her. "I nearly killed you tonight, and you’re sorry?" He immediately regrets the sharpness of his words. "No, Tav, I’m sorry." Pulling her into him, he collapses to the ground, and she lays her head on his bare chest.

‘Astarion, I…’ Tav starts to speak.

"Hush," he interrupts, holding a finger to her lips. "Listen." He tunes into the sounds of the environment around them—the rustling of tree branches in the breeze, the chirping of insects in the reeds, the rushing of water in the nearby stream. But the sound he wants her to hear isn’t external; it’s coming from within him. After several seconds, she jerks her head up from his chest to meet his eyes.

"Did… did I just hear your heart?" Her voice is filled with astonishment. "You have a heartbeat?" Her brows furrow in confusion as she searches his face for answers. "Is that another side effect of the tadpole? Like how you can walk in the sun?"

Astarion smiles at her. "Yes, you heard my heart beating. No, it’s not from the worm in my head. It’s from you, darling."

"What? How?" Tav’s confusion deepens.

‘Well, when I feed, especially if it’s a big meal, my body must circulate the fresh blood throughout it somehow. And in case you weren’t aware, I’ll give you a little anatomy lesson. I need blood in a certain area of the body to give you a performance like I did back there."

She stares at him in shock "So your heart will kickstart when you're full, or horny?"

"In simple terms, yes dear, and I do feel both of those right now. However, it only beats a couple times a minute, not like a living creature. Have you noticed the color return to my skin, and that my temperature is at least five degrees warmer than usual?"

Tav smiles softly as she lays her head back on his chest in silence, waiting to hear a soft thump again. "I can make your heartbeat," she whispers.

"Well Tav, it seems my heart belongs to you now," Astarion sighs. "I’ve never felt anything like that before. I’m practically drunk on you right now. When I told you were my first bite, I meant it and now I can’t imagine drinking the blood of anyone else. Not like I have many options anyways, no one else is exactly offering me their neck." She smacks him softly, and he lets out a chuckle before his face softens with worry.

"I don’t think it’s safe to do that again, though," He grumbles. "I nearly lost you." Tav looks up at him with sadness in her eyes. "I mean I would happily bed you again," Astarion continues, "and I still wish to feed on you if you allow it, once you're replenished, but I think we should keep dinner and sex separate from now on."

Tav scoots up to kiss his neck. Then rises to her knees and straddles him. Her hair forms a halo around her face as she looks down at him.

"What is Withers there for if we don’t use him once and a while. Plus, we have at least ten revival scrolls in the chest at the camp."

His heart beats again, slightly harder than the last time. "Are you giving me permission to suck you dry? You filthy little pup." His hands grab her rear, and he squeezes. "How did I get so lucky? Getting abducted by mind flayers seems to have been the best thing that has ever happened to me."

"I mean, I've never felt anything like that either. When you were draining me of blood, I let it happen, I didn’t want it to stop. I was in a daze as I slipped away. To be clear, I don’t think the others will approve of paying 200 gold coins to Withers, or wasting revival scrolls that could be used during a fight, every time I come to your bed, but if it happens… I trust you to bring me back. I guess my heart belongs to you now too. Since it pumps the blood through me that keeps you alive and thriving."

Astarion inhales deeply. "Well in that case, darling," his hand reaches up to grab her neck and he pulls her head down so her ear touches his lips "I think you're beating me three-nil in climaxes this evening. And I intend to double your score at the very least, and maybe get a point on the board myself before the sun rises." He glances down and notices a blood stain seeping through her pants onto his. He realizes didn't put her underwear back on nor replace her blood rag when he dressed her earlier. "Also, it looks like you might need a little cleaning up again, my love."

END

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hxney-lemcn · 3 months ago

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The Wolf's Counterpart — Twilight Princess! Link x gn! reader

summary: finding yourself on a crazy adventure, you end up having an even crazier friend...but it seems that your wolf companion is more than what meets the eye.

tw: none that I can think of.

a/n: this is like, good, then bad, then meh. I wasn't sure how to end it unfortunately :/

wc: 2.5k

Master List

It wasn’t their fault. You weren’t a fighter, you weren’t a hero. Just a merchant who sold goods they stumbled upon in their journey. You knew how to defend yourself, but that was about it. So when you were attacked by monsters whose blood was as black as night and were stronger than anything you’ve fought before, you truly thought your luck ran out and that you were a goner…until a strange portal appeared out of nowhere and you felt a tug pulling you towards it, something beckoning for you that it would be safer if you went through it.In a split second decision, you followed with your gut instinct, running to the portal as the beasts snarled and snapped close behind.

That was how you met the lively group of young men and boys. They were ready to walk through the portal when you quite literally stumbled into them with heaving breaths and looking over your shoulder. Unfortunately, the monsters jumped through the portal right before it could close, leading the group to take up arms and fight the two monsters you had so much trouble with. It wasn’t fair how easy they made it look, they’re numbers definitely helped, not to mention the damage you had done to them before. The tallest man with a scar over his right eye mentioned something about more shadow creatures, the one wearing a blue scarf glancing at you wearily.

One of the younger ones with more sandy-ish brown hair approached you first, asking if you were alright and if you had any injuries. You shook your head, only recalling small scratches that bushes left you with when you had deemed that running was your best option. You were confused when he lifted his hands, a warm feeling overcoming you as you realized he was performing magic. Pure unadulterated magic with no aid whatsoever. It was then that you realized this group might have been more important than you initially realized.

“Just who are you?” Another asked, blonde hair tipped with pink, blue eyes glaring at you with scrutiny.

So you began to introduce yourself, explaining that you had just been harvesting some herbs to sell before you were ambushed, and how the portal appeared and you jumped through without second thought. At that point you had been surrounded by the nine people who all listened with varying degrees of trust.

“Who just jumps through a portal?” The same guy asked with disbelief.

“I don’t know,” You huffed, feeling a bit embarrassed. “I wasn’t really thinking when I was busy running for my life looking for an escape.”

“Well,” A new voice spoke up, a sail cloth tied around his shoulders. Wait…who would wear a sail cloth? Aren’t those for ships? “Are we really ones to judge?” The others grumbled in agreement.

“We can’t just leave them here,” Sighed what seemed to be the shortest of the group (but not the youngest).

Finally, you take in your surroundings. You were a traveling merchant, you had seen nearly all of Hyrule, but this forest…you hadn’t seen it before. The trees seemed to be the same species, but you had never seen a bird with a pattern like that before. You tuned out for a second as you continued to point out the different plants and animals you had never seen before, the others talking probably about what to do with you. Where had that portal taken you?

“Can you fight,” The tallest asked you, snapping you out of your concerned thoughts.

“U-uhm,” You felt small under his sharp gaze, but it didn’t seem condescending, just tired. “I just know the basics so I can defend myself.”

“I see,” He hummed, a hand coming up to his chin in thought. “It seems it would be best if you come with us until we can find you a way back home.”

It was then that you started your travels with them. A group of men and boys who were all named Link and had fought against great evils to save Hyrule. Which led to your current problem. You felt small, insignificant, burdensome. They were all great heroes who have fought against evils at ages that seemed to be way too young. You felt your heart ache every time you’re reminded that Wind had already gone on his adventure and had faced things a boy never should. A pattern that seemed to repeat with each and every hero.

It made you feel left out. They would joke about things you couldn’t wrap your head around or would stare in horror at traumatic moments they spoke of so casually. Not to mention how they were all so tight knit, you weren’t sure how you fit in. You really didn’t. And so you tend to keep to yourself, doing menial chores to help with something. You hated that most of the fighting landed on them and you were left to run or only fight one or two monsters at most. You hated that ugly hollow feeling in your chest of being alone even when surrounded by others. You didn’t blame them either, they were busy with saving the world, again, and it’s not like they left you out of things. Warrior has brought you to nearby villages to buy supplies a few times and Wind always tries to get you to play games, but for some reason you swear it felt forced. It was probably a you thing.

There was one member that stood out from them all. Well…for multiple reasons. For one, he was a wolf. The day you met wolfie you nearly had a heart attack. You were aware of dangerous fauna and learned how to read tracks and what to avoid…so why did this wolf just walk into camp and why was Wind petting it! This group was strange before, but now you felt like you may have gone insane. The wolf, noticing your bug eyed stare, had decided to approach you and you found yourself praying to all things holy that you didn’t want to die yet. The wolf sat in front of you, tilting its head curiously. You didn’t want to admit it, but you felt yourself sweating, imagining how unpleasant it would be to feel its huge teeth puncture you for making the wrong move.

Wind merely skipped over to you both, smiling wide as he greeted you, “You can finally meet Wolfie!”

“Wolfie?” You repeated dumbly, eyes dragging back to the beast that nodded? You’ve never seen or read of wolves doing that…

“Yeah!” Wind exclaimed, hugging the animal and ruffling its fur. “He’s been with us for a while. Comes and goes every now and then.”

You held your hand out for it to sniff, but he only watched you. He was quite expressive, his eyes showing confusion. Were all wolves like that?

“Can I pet you?” You asked, slowly inching your outstretched hand even closer. Seeming to finally understand your train of thought, the wolf sniffed your hand before nuzzling your palm. “Wow,” You murmured in awe, finally petting Wolfie. “He’s so friendly.”

It was then that your friendship with the animal had started to bud. Every time you found yourself alone (as much as you could be) sketching a new plant or animal, Wolfie wasn’t far, resting his head in your lap. Or when you lagged behind the group, the boys snickering about one thing or another, Wolfie seemed to trot by your side. You didn’t miss the fact that every time Wolfie appeared, Twi would excuse himself from the group. The two were clearly connected, but you didn’t want to sound crazy if you asked if Twi and Wolfie were one and the same, so you kept the thought to yourself.

You weren’t sure why Twi would want to hang out with you so much anyways, even if in animal form. The two of you weren’t super close, and more often than not he seemed to avoid you, be it your eyes to you entirely. You knew you most likely seemed closed off and anti-social, but did you scare him? That you didn’t want to talk to him? Sure, you could be awkward, but you would indulge the boys with their shenanigans (more than you’d like to admit and as long as it wasn’t too crazy). You tried to open yourself up more and you had become closer with some of them, namely Hyrule and Sky as they didn’t seem to mind your more quiet spells (yes, all them were quiet, but some were just so lively you weren’t sure if you could keep up).

What was even worse were the others always giggling when Wolfie seemed to favor you over everyone else. It was typically Time giving a knowing look at the animal or Wild trying his hardest (not) to smother his laughter. It was even worse if your theory was true and the oversized dog that liked to hog your attention and lap was Twilight. It felt like he was sending you two different messages. Was it easier for him to try and get to know you as an animal as it was for you to talk to animals? Maybe you were overthinking everything because you suck at human interactions outside of your business interactions.

You let out a loud sigh as you rubbed the wolf’s ears, his tail wagging slowly but happily.

“Does Twilight hate me,” You asked to no one in particular, but you kept a sharp eye on Wolfie who snapped his head up to you. Was that not enough evidence that this wolf was more than what he seemed? Adding to your growing evidence he shook his head with a whine. Holding the wolf by his face, you stared into its eyes with a deadpan look, “How do you know, aren’t you just a wolf?”

It seemed your question managed to shock the animal? Twilight? No, this had to be Twilight. He had vanished just seconds before Wolfie appeared. You refuse to play dumb any longer. The wolf’s eyes shifted, unable to meet your gaze head on, whining once more.

A frown marred your face as you squished his fluffy cheeks, “I hate you.” You’re not sure why it slipped from your lips, it was meant to be teasing, but the pitiful whines ‘Wolfie’ let out made your heart clench.

“Why do you have to hide behind such a cute face to talk to me,” You huffed, taking your cuteness aggression out by squeezing his ears gently. You're sure you're confusing the poor man as you continue to scratch and pet the wolf, the affection nearly drowning out the earth shattering revelation you were dropping on him. You knew he was Wolfie, you knew and yet you were still caressing him to high heavens.

Wolfie, finally coming to his senses when you had slowed your ministrations, jumped to his feet and ran away. Even if you knew he was Wolfie, some of the others were still clueless. You barely had time to blink as Twi barreled out of the woods, nearly tripping and falling onto his face when he skidded to a halt to sit next to you.

“You knew?” Twi stressed, cheeks a light lovely pink, crystal blue eyes frantically searching your own.

“I had my suspicions,” You shrugged, feeling a bit shy now that not only did he prove your theory but you were face to face. “I was gathering evidence. Like how Wolfie always appeared after you disappeared and vice versa, how Wolfie always managed to understand us despite being a wolf, not to mention Wild and Time seemed to know something the rest of us didn’t.”

“By Ordona,” Twilight groaned, covering his face with his hands.

“I’m sorry,” You mumbled, feeling out of your depth. “I won’t tell anyone else.” “Why…” Twilight swallowed thickly, barely able to look at you. “Why would you still…you knew but you still…”

It was your turn to become flustered, fidgeting with your fingers as you tried to explain, “Animals are my weakness okay. It was like…a primal instinct, y’know? How can I not pet something cute? Besides, you knew the entire time!”

He let out a groan, tossing his head back, and a short silence permeated around the two of you. A new question started brewing in your mind, but you weren’t sure if you should say your curiosity out loud or not. You doubt you were confident enough and Twi already seemed to be all out of sorts.

“I’m sorry-”

“Am I really Wolfie’s favorite-”

You both paused, staring at the other in shock. You can’t believe you asked that-

“Yes.”

Your face felt like it lit up like a flame. He didn’t even hesitate! This was so strange, why was your heart beating out of your chest? Glancing up at the hero you found yourself scowling at how his visage turned smug. So, without fully thinking, you ruffled his hair, fingers itching to pull it to be mean but you wouldn’t go that far. It seems your cuteness aggression wasn’t just aimed towards Wolfie. Your action caught Twilight off guard as he became a blushing mess once more (much to your satisfaction).

“You can just talk to me y’know,” You huffed out, squeezing his cheeks similarly to how you did earlier to Wolfie. You’re sure your cheeks are on fire and you’re nowhere near used to showing any sort of affection to humans, but here you were, holding the face of a man you’ve barely talked to. You felt crazy, insane, but the flustered look that rested on Twi’s face had made you feel more confident in your actions.

“I’m sorry,” He pouted when you finally let him go. “I just never knew how to approach you, and you always were fascinated with the wildlife…” Perhaps you didn’t blend into the background as much as you thought you did.

“It’s okay,” You smiled shyly, an unusual warmth spreading through you. “We can-”

“Oh thank the Goddess’s there you are,” Four muttered, stumbling into the small clearing you found. “Time was worried because you were gone for so long.” Before you could say an apology, Twi snarled in the boy's direction, clearly not happy with the interruption.

“They’re fine,” Twi huffed, glaring daggers. “If anything happens I’m here.”

“Actually…” Four raised an eyebrow, clearly not happy with Twilight’s attitude. “Warrior needed you for something. Lucky me that I seemed to find you both.”

Twilight’s chest rumbled, but you spoke up before he could utter another word, “Thank you Four, we’ll be right behind you.”

“Uhuh,” Four eyed the hero that sat awfully close next to you and shook your head. “Good luck with that.” And walked away.

You weren’t sure why Twi got aggressive so quickly, but you quietly admonished him during the walk back towards camp.

At least he had the gall to look ashamed.

#❥ • my works #twilight princess x reader #loz x reader #link loz x reader #loz link x reader #lu x reader #linked universe x reader #twilight princess link x reader #twilight princess #loz link #link loz #lu #linked universe #loz #twilight princess link #x reader

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undiscovered-horizon · 2 years ago

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Die Happy - Sanji x Reader

SUMMARY: Sanji is disillusioned about your lack of interest in him. Someone like you could pick and choose among princes, kings and emperors. What's a measly cook to you? Nevertheless, his lovesick heart continuously rejoices when you choose him to waste time with.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.3k

Enjoying my work? You can leave me a tip on Ko-Fi

Part 2 -> "Maelstrom"

Sanji has never believed in ghouls, witches, faeries and the like. However, when he met you his belief began to shatter:

Like a dark sorceress covering the whole world with a curse, you lured all the influential, important men like fire does moths. At first, Sanji fooled himself that all those generals, merchants and noblemen only wanted something pretty to hang onto their shoulders but reality destroyed his comforting illusion when the said men offered riches most people couldn’t even fathom. If you asked them for an armada to sail to the Grand Line, they’d only ask what type of wood you’d prefer. Despite something akin to world domination lying at your fingertips, you always laughed those offers off, telling your powerful suitors that you would think about their words and get back to them.

Sanji once asked whether you’re truly considering marrying one of the generals or kings. Some more naive part of him hoped you’d say no. Alas, the truth, once again, was his adversary:

“Obviously!” you giggled at his silly question. “But I won’t marry the first one that offers me wealth and whatnot. First, I’d like to see all of my options and the world…” your voice trailed away as you vaguely pointed around the two of you. “Well, it’s a big place. Many more kingdoms to visit.”

But to his own demise, the cook was a fool unlike any other. He had no chance at winning your heart, no matter how much he’d try. Still, his untamable desire egged him on, whispering sweet songs of your grace. Even if he could taste your lips only in his imagination, he could do his best for you to have a reason to keep him around like a dog that begs for scraps at his master’s table.

Sanji knows he’s only hurting himself, only furthering his desperation when he makes you smile or earns a speck of your affection. Every dawn, he promises to free himself from your sorcery but when dusk comes and his left with the Moon, his only confidant, he realizes that he could never possess enough power to cut himself free from you. You’ve pierced his heart right through and if he pulls your knife out of his chest, he’s bound to bleed out and die. It’s better if he lets you have complete control over his mind and soul - it’s the only way he will make it out alive.

He’s left cold and lonely on that night. Soft, silver moonlight washes over him through the small porthole in the wall of his room. The sea is almost black at this hour of the night but it becomes a mystical sapphire when the Moon’s glow washes over the lazy waves making them glisten like pure diamonds.

Diamonds… maybe if he had diamonds, you’d see him as a man and not just a shipmate.

Quiet knocking on his door wakes Sanji up from his thoughts. Before he has a chance to get up and open the door or tell the guest to come in, the mysterious visitor enters out of their own volition.

Your tired face makes Sanji think about painting in museums - the ones all connoisseurs consider “classics” and “timeless”. The silk shirt you’re wearing looks not only awfully expensive but, which is much worse, to be a men’s size. Its hem ends right underneath your buttcheeks, threatening to expose your body should you lift your hands. In the darkness of his cabin, you appear as nothing beyond a phantom, a hallucination born out of desperation. And just like a ghost, you’ve come to haunt and torment him in the sweetest of ways; in a way only you can.

“What’s wrong, love?” he asks in a raspy voice. Sanji is doing a great job at appearing unaffected by your rather scantily clad form.

Carefully, you close the door behind you and walk towards him. Your skin glows when you step into the rays of soft moonlight pouring in through the porthole. Dishevelled hair, half-closed eyes and a slightly puffy face - Sanji has imagined you this way countless times but never actually seen. He can feel his body burning up, telling him to seize the opportunity, to wash you in the most charming and suave words he can think of.

“Nami kicks while sleeping,” you say quietly. “I swear to god my whole side is bruised at this point. Can I sleep with you?”

Sanji has to remind himself to breathe and to do so calmly. He’s cool, completely in control of himself. His mouth feels unbearably dry.

“‘Course you can,” he answers casually. With a swift move of his arm, he lifts the duvet. “Come on in.”

The pure bliss that suddenly appears on your face forces Sanji to take in a sharp, ragged breath. It’s an expression he also imagined one too many times when his desperation poisons his mind - not that he’s willing to admit it even to himself. He knows it’s wrong to even entertain a scenario in which you would grace him with such an enraptured face. Still, his will is not as strong as he often makes it out to be.

“Sanji, you are my salvation,” you tell him while getting under the covers with him.

“I know, love.”

It’s both strange and natural, the way your body fits his. As though the two of you have done it so much the memory of your muscles twists and turns your limbs to rest in the most comfortable and intimate way. The odd familiarity makes Sanji think that maybe in another lifetime this is how he always sleeps. He wishes he could find himself in that reality even for a second. Alas, it’s too far out of his reach.

“Damn, you’re really comfortable,” you mumble against his chest. Your hot breath makes him shiver. “And warm. I don’t think I’ll be going back to my bed.” A small grin of cosiness appears on your face - one that Sanji will never forget.

His broad chest and strong arm normally go unnoticed by you but now they’re like a fortress. And just like high stone walls are an unspoken promise of security and happiness, his firm hold on your body is a silent oath of a good night's sleep.

“Stay as long as you want,” he whispers back to you.

Maybe if you weren’t so exhausted, you’d notice that his words aren’t a statement but a plea. They’re the last thing you remember before drifting off to a restful slumber.

Your breathing slows down and gains a steady, shallow rhythm. Keeping you close to his chest, Sanji allows his hands to gently brush against your arm and back. His movements are feathery, almost fearful. He wouldn’t want you to wake up and change your mind about spending the night beside him - he can indulge in his heart’s desire but he must do so carefully.

“If you only gave me a chance,” he whispers into the night.

Knowing you’re asleep and bound to remain ignorant of his affections, Sanji kisses the top of your head. His lips linger against your hair while he takes in the scent that haunts him day and night. Unknowingly, his grip around your body tightens at that moment as though he has suddenly grown most terrified of having you disappear. Too many nights he’s dreamed of this exact scenario only to wake up to a cold, empty bed.

When the dawn arrives and you leave his arms, this little moment of affection won't mean anything to you. It means nothing now. Sanji knows this very well. He doesn't try to lie to himself that maybe you'll wake up a changed person and finally see him as more than a friendly comrade. Although tonight means nothing to you, it holds an unspeakable weight to Sanji, who will forever gloat about the fact that when you needed help, it was him you turned to. It was his arms that guarded your sleep for a few hours.

Fighting off sleep until he collapses, Sanji revels in the feeling of you against his body and pretends, even if for one night, that you’re his the same way he will always be yours. Watching you sleep cuddled into him, he swears he could die happy now.

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celestemona · 1 year ago

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𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐊𝐀𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐍 𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐔𝐏 𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍

a when they're dads au series.

pairing: dad & husband! kaedehara kazuha x fem! reader

cw: established relationship, you and kazuha are married and have children. original characters. domestic and parenting universe. quick mention of pregnant reader. slightly ooc to fit the plot. fluff and not beta read.

reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡

part i. | part ii.

Considering Kaedehara Kazuha’s reputation for his mild personality and free spirit, it was difficult for most to imagine the wandering samurai ever pausing his travels, let alone settling into the routines of a homely life.

So you can imagine the shock among fishing and sailing communities throughout Teyvat when whispers began to circulate—not only had Kazuha settled down, but he had also married and started a family.

At first, no one believed it. Surely, it must be some sort of prank.

That was until Captain Beidou, her cheeks flushed with rum, produced a photo to prove the rumors true. The image captured Kazuha’s wedding—a modest yet joyous celebration held by the Crux Fleet on a secluded island in Inazuma. In the photo, Kazuha gazed at you with such unmistakable love that it silenced all doubts.

As the night went on, barrels of rum and beer loosened Beidou’s tongue, and soon, she was regaling curious listeners with tales of your love story. She described how you quite literally fell from the sky into Kazuha’s arms, how your relationship blossomed, endured challenges, and culminated in a heartfelt proposal. She recounted how the two of you decided to rebuild the Kaedehara Clan together, leaving behind the open sea for a life that was quieter—but no less meaningful.

“Oh, and did I mention?” Beidou added with a mischievous grin. “They have three kids now!”

The crowd’s shock was palpable, their wide eyes demanding further details. Beidou, never one to shy away from a good story, obliged.

For Kazuha, this new chapter in his life was one he never thought possible. His teenage years had left him with deep scars, his relationship with his father fraught with tension and misunderstanding. Back at the time, leaving the Kaedehara estate had felt like his only option.

But time and distance had brought healing, and when Kazuha returned to his ancestral home with you by his side, he was overwhelmed not by sorrow, but by a sense of belonging. The estate, once a source of pain, now brimmed with warmth and life, thanks to you and the laughter of your three children.

Kiyomi, your middle child and only daughter is the heart of the family’s liveliness. With her extroverted and mischievous personality, she kept everyone on their toes. Neither you nor Kazuha knew where she had inherited such a fiery temperament, but her boundless energy often left you with gray hairs and Kazuha with an amused smile.

As the only girl in the family, Kiyomi was undoubtedly spoiled by her father, who adored her unconditionally. Her beauty was a perfect blend of your features and Kazuha’s, but what truly set her apart was her kind and stubborn heart.

Your eldest son, Kazumi, was the embodiment of his father. With his relaxed demeanor and serene smile, he was often mistaken for a younger Kazuha. However, Kazumi carried a deep sense of responsibility as the eldest sibling, always keeping a watchful eye on Kiyomi and Haruki.

At the age of ten, Kazumi had already begun learning the Isshin Art from Kazuha. Though he mastered its techniques with ease, he preferred to follow his own path rather than dedicate himself entirely to bladesmithing.

Last but not least, your youngest, Haruki, was the family’s surprise blessing. Born on an autumn morning, he arrived into the world fragile and unwell. Those early months were filled with sleepless nights and anxious hearts, but with the help of friends—including Beidou, Traveler, and even Yae Miko—Haruki eventually grew into a healthy and vibrant child.

Unlike his siblings, who were often found running around the estate, Haruki was introspective and studious. From a young age, he displayed an insatiable curiosity, devouring books and scrolls that even scholars would find daunting.

When asked about his new life, Kazuha often reflected on how vastly different it was from the one he had once envisioned. There was always something to worry about, the days rarely deviated from routine, and the call of the open road still stirred within him from time to time.

Yet, as he watched you and the children, he knew he wouldn’t trade this life for anything. The love he shared with you, the joy of raising a family, and the warmth of a home filled with laughter and belonging—this was the greatest adventure of all.

For Kazuha, every day with you was a journey worth taking, and there was no horizon more beautiful than the one he shared with you by his side.

a/n: i must confess that i have this plot on my drafts for almost two years now but i’ve never found will enough on myself to sit down and write it. nevertheless, i’m thankful for my mind to remind me of this plot and make me re-write new ideas.

those who knows me, or not, must’ve know that i really do love parenting, domestic and pregnancy universe so not so often i caught myself writing about it. it’s so relaxing and enjoyable to picture these guys as dad idk.

i hope you’ve liked it so far. i would like to share more about this headcanon in the future, so let me know if you want to learn more about the kaedehara clan. thank you so much, bye!

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin #genshin x reader #kaedehara kazuha #kaedehara kazuha x reader #kazuha #kazuha x reader #genshin kazuha #dad kazuha #kaedehara clan #genshin husbands au #genshin dads au #when they're dads

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beastyeastfreak · 10 days ago

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Mystic Flour x GN! Cacao kingdom soldier! reader.

Part one of four

Link to next part

Cw and tags: suggestive if you squint, flirting, non descriptive canon typical death

Edit: the draft for this was way more suggestive than the final product, tags were inaccurate mb

Summary: You were a selfless Cacao kingdom soldier who embarked on the journey to beast yeast with your king and peers. Unfortunately, it seems you have caught the eye of a beast.

🌾 - When Dark Cacao announced his expedition to Beast yeast, you volunteered to go as many others did. You were a loyal Cacao kingdom soldier, it would be wrong not to. A plague was devouring the people whole, sweeping through the snow like a gluttonous swarm of springtails. So, the team sailed across an unnervingly calm Licorice sea, carved through untamed jungle and soon into the ivory pagoda.

🌾 - Your team meets a Haetae aptly named Cloud Haetae who offers to be a guide. Your group tours through the pagoda as Cloud Haetae told tales of their master, Mystic Flour cookie, you felt as though eyes were on your dough. Statues of this being felt like they were staring at you, and you felt as if the fog had eyes boring holes into your soul. Cloud haetae told a tale of a powerful cookie who granted wishes, helping cookies struggling.

🌾 - “What is your wish?” Cloud Haetae asked you as you lingered a bit away from the group while they ate, passing on the snacks so everyone else could have their share. You were perplexed, Cloud Haetae asked that to Dark Cacao too though. “I don’t think i have one,” you start, “I just want my kingdom to be safe and happy, if i can help someone else get what they want then that makes me happy” you say. “How selfless! My master likes… would like you!” Cloud Haetae would, you wonder why it almost seemed like they wanted to say something else.

🌾 - You soon meet this leavened one. The group stands in front of a colossal cocoon, the Cloud Haetae showing their true colors. Leading them into the metaphorical and literal spiders web. Mystic Flours voice echoes throughout the chamber, she stands like a white pillar in the room. A powerful being no mortal dare go up against, she tells a different story of apathy and futility. As she speaks, your allies begin to become infected.. except you. “May the curse of the Ivory Pagoda befall all who fail to recognize this truth,” she says. As she leaves, you almost swear you see her eyes linger on you for a moment which makes your dough feel like it had been infested with bugs. Your friends are falling before your eyes, but as the fog began to settle you watched Mystic Flour leave and began to chase after her. You weren’t sure what this would accomplish, it didn’t do anything actually, when you found your way out of the mist you were on a mountain peak alone, separated from your king.

🌾 - You were wondering aimlessly through a land of clouds and stairs, alone but not useless. If you could reach this Mystic Flour cookie maybe you could guide Dark Cacao to her! You began to wonder up the mountain, but as you venture you take in the beauty of this world. You wonder why you were spared, you and your king alone, a lowly mortal and an Ancient. Each step up the long and winding steps was another thought. “My master likes… would like you!” Cloud Haetae’s voice echoes in your mind, then it hits you. Did she like you? You wince at the thought of gaining the affection of a beast such as herself.

🌾 - After many arduous steps, you reach the top. Carved into the mountain was the entrance to a dark temple like place. You quietly walked through, feeling tiny in comparison to the pillars stood proud and murals recessed into the stone. The stale scent of flour wafts through the air, many had been reduced to dust here you were certain of it.

🌾 - “You are not the one who i expected to arrive first,” her voice calls through the chamber. She stands some distance away, eyes closed and hands still in that same position. Fear shoots through your body. “I..” your words are cut off. You remember the epiphany you had earlier. You know that if she kills you now for speaking wrong then you will be of no use to the cacao kingdom. You recall her stories, she had no followers here. Her last interactions with cookiekind were likely negative, maybe there was a way you could smooth talk your way out of this…

🌾 - You kneel with your head slightly turned down, a gesture of respect, your chocolate armor rustling. “Master of the Ivory Pagoda, Leavened one, i do not come seeking a fight.” You say and place your weapon on the ground, its clinking echoes through the halls at least thrice. She is silent, her steps are quiet until she’s practically in front of you. “Why have you come then?” Great, she wasn’t trying to turn you to flour, something was working. “To give the respect that my people have failed to give you,” you say, lifting your head only to place your hand out. She places her hand in yours and you kiss it reverently. She hums at your words and actions, “stand, soldier.” She says in that same slow fashion while her had drifts away. You obey her words, her eyes are nearly opened. “I do not grant wishes, if this is an attempt to gain something i will not be merciful.”

🌾 - “I consider myself all but selfish,” you respond. “I do not want to ask anything of you, i have no wish only that you’d grace a cookie such as i with your grand presence.” She raised an eyebrow just barely at your words then stepped forward, her eyes staring into yours. Those slit pupils felt like they were cutting you. You were nervous- no scared, her expression was impossible to pinpoint, they had better luck fighting a licorice ocean monster than figuring out what went in behind those eyes. “I have kept an eye on you for some time,” she says and places a single finger under your chin. You fight the urge to flinch away. “You have nothing, you’ve given everything, pointless is it not?” She says, eyes grazing over scars. “If my actions have lead to me meeting you then in my heart i know it was worth it,” you say. You really hope your theory was right and that she did like you.

🌾 - She stops, her mouth agape as if she had not anticipated that answer. Then her cheeks begin to flush ever so slightly. “How… odd,” she says and her hands return to their position. Her surprise fade soon, then her hand comes to your chestplate. Its cold, and it spreads throughout your whole dough but you dont flinch. “This armor is pointless, your words alone have weakened a beast. This is only reserved for me, tell me that i am wrong.” She says, fingers hooking beneath the chest plate onto the tunic beneath. “You’re right,” you respond quietly. Not sure whether to be scared or attracted. Her eyes dart back onto your face. “You will toil no more,” she says and steps forward so her face is close to yours, your face heats up, her other hand grabs your chin between her pointer and thumb. “You will not wave the cacao flag,” she says quieter. You really hope that by doing this you’re buying Dark Cacao some time or something of value. “You will not surround yourself with those unlike you,” her face is an inch away, you find yourself leaning into it. “I am the only one who is like you.”

🌾 - She closes the distance between the two of you, your eyes flutter nearly shut. Your heart is beating, its really quick too. In your days of defending the wall, fighting monsters and serving your king this was simultaneously the most scared you’ve been in your life and also oddly the most attracted you’ve been to someone, that alone made you feel worse. Her sharp claw like nails left your chin and came to your neck, keeping you in place. Not that you showed any signs of leaning away. She didn’t have to push you against anything or hold you still to keep you with her.

🌾 - “MYSTIC FLOUR COOKIE!” You hear your kings voice echo, a loud roar. He was coming up the stairs, you flinch and she leans away then looks at you, “hm.. unfortunate… when i have taken back my souljam, i will decide what to do with you.” She said, her thumb brushing against your lower lip before pulling away. Your vision began to blur and become white, you close your eyes to clear it but you cannot open them, your body becomes numb. “I will awaken you soon… Y/N…” you hear as you begin to fall into a deep rest, dreaming of soft clouds, a lack of armor and dumpling immortals playing Go.

#its been bouncing around my mind for a bit #was originally all the beasts x reader for the same prompt but i want this to just be mystic flour i love her sm #x reader #crk x reader #crk #crk x you #beast cookies #mystic flour cookie x reader #mystic flour x reader #i was gonna have dark cacao see them close and be like HOW DARE YOU SEDUCE MY SUBJECTS LMFAOOO

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writingoddess1125 · 9 months ago

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The Jessica Rabbit Effect (Shorts)

Buggy Headcanon+story. Buggy x Reader

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Previous <<< >>> Masterlist

This is a series of random thoughts from the Jessica Rabbit Series

Buggy likes to be the little spoon at times, so if he's had a bad day will cuddle against his darling wife and let her take care of him.

You often have to do Buggy's hair. Since its a wild mess at the best of times when he returns from see its a bit of a ritual for him to shower, get into his favorite pants and sit between your thighs as you brush out his hair.

Has bitten your Thigh- earning a playful smack of the comb

Sometimes he will sing for you- He actually has a lovely singing voice but you'll be the only one to hear it.

Surprisngly decent at cooking- Hes no chef but sure as hell can make one hell of a breakfast sandwich.

YOU are the secret Perv of the relationship, Most would assume its Buggy but its actually You.

You had been stalking your prey for the last 5 minutes, Buggy was currently going through some crates he had kept in the closet- saying something about a old hat of sorts. It was the perfect angle however-

However he was unaware of his wife slowly stepping forwards him as he bent over once more to dig deeper in the box-

Closer...

Maybe right overrr..

Buggy Yelled suddenly as he felt fingers dig into the flesh of his ass as he turned and heard you cackle and quickly dash away as he gives chase.

He often returns from his sailing with gifts of whatever you like. Jewlery? More Sewing stuff? Books? Whatever you want he will snag for you.

You two secretly read raunchy novels together, Sometimes you will send him a book while he is away and he will read it at night before bed. Before sending one of his own-

Often resulting in the two of you speaking about the books in depth when together good or bad-

Buggy Takes care of you since you are more likely to burn out-

EXTRA! (Short Story)

You'd been hard at work, it seemed your business had been really taking off with now your two most demanding customers Sir Mihawk and Sir Crocodile. Who seemed to not only be picky about their fabrics but also seemed to damage their clothes constantly! You'd been busy to say the least.

Right now was no exception, You were standing in the Livingroom of yur home adding a few final buttons to a coat of Sir Crocodile, Letting your mind wonder as you worked tirelessly to have it completed before the morning-

As you worked you felt a hand touch your waist, giving a loud shrill yell as you spun around and swung-

"OW! What the hell!?" Your husbands voice sounded as you managed to whack his nose with a open palm. Buggy seemed to have just sailed in, still in his hat and coat and now rubbing his now sore nose with a frown-

"Im so sorry darling! I didnt realize it was you here let me get a pack for your nose-" You started, still coming down from the fright your husband had given you and went to flutter away to get a ice pack, However Buggy stopped you and pulled you close. Examming your face closely and frowning.

"Forget it- What are you doing up so late anyway? You should still be asleep.. You look tired-"

He grumbled, catching your look of confusion.

"Early? Its only- Um" You look to the large clock and blink in surprise at seeing the time. 1:37am!?

"O-Oh i guess I lost track of time an-"

"Did you eat dinner!?" Buggy cut you off again seeing your little work table and spotting only half finished tea and almost a finished pastry, most likely from the morning before- You bit your lip in embarrassment not even having the voice to say anything at being caught.

With a etched frown Buggy suddenly hoisted you up to his shoulder causing a loud yelp to leave you.

"Buggy!" You yell as you are carried like a sack to your shared master bedroom, red faced from the action.

"Buggy I still have to finish Crocodiles Coat an- EEP!"

A full palmed smack hit your behind from, Buggy- Cutting off your tirade as you felt your brain short circuit for a moment. Buggy walked into the master bathroom and set you on the counter, grumbling to himself as he started up a bath and went to your bedroom to start grabbing clothes.

"Buggy Boo-"

You started again but his hand floated to you and placed a finger to your lips.

"Id start undressing if I were you! Cause If I do it I may get handsy!"

Buggy called out from the bedroom as he grabbed more clothes. His free floating hand making a grabbing motion to your chest as if to give warning- You couldn't help but let a laugh out at this as you pushed his hand away playfully and slid off the countertop and getting undressed.

Setting your clothes in the hamper as Buggy came back in the bathroom with fresh PJs and already in his boxers only. He eyes looking over your figure in desire, Making you blush of course. Setting the clothes down Buggy removed his Boxers with dramatic flare of course and climbed in the water first, turning it off in the process as his other hand detached and guided you in with care. You leaning back against Buggy's chest and sighing in delight at the hot water. The stress already melting away as the two of you sat and soaked.

After a little while the two of you began to wash up, Buggy putting your hair up as the comforting silence and occasional splash of water from rinsing could be heard.

After the two of you smelled like sweet apple soap and the hot water had cooled to warm the both of you got out. Buggy taking the time to dry you off with a big fluffy towel while you braided his hair so it wouldn't tangle.

Getting dressed you walked into the bedroom and plopped onto the bed, starting to finally feel tired as Buggy laid next to you. His hands however leaving the room-

"Better?" Buggy asked as he looked at you, you leaning over and placing a soft kiss on his lips.

"Much, Thank you darling" You smile, just to glance over and see his hands returning with a series of items half hazard. A box of crackers, some cured meat, a few apples and some random half eaten cheese blocks. Paired with a knife of course you assume from his belt.

"Dinner of champions!" Buggy boasted, cracking open the wine bottle and handing it to you, rolling your eyes playfully as you took a sip.

The two of you seated on your marital bed, drinking straight from a wine bottle and eating the simple meal, chatting away about random topics.

"So you think the treasure is further south?" You ask, Buggy nodding as he took another bit of cheese and crackers in his mouth as he spoke with his mouth full cutting some meat for you and passing it over. "I 'Hink Cap Jo'n hit it und'er som' seri's of i'slands sout-" (I think Capt John hid it under some series of islands south).

"A Yellow VELVET Shirt!?" Buggy said dramatically making you laugh as you took some apple into your mouth and nodded. Buggy face scrunching up in disgust. "Come On, I'm a clown and I think that's tacky! Even for Crocodile!" You start to laugh as buggy passes the now half empty bottle to you.

Laughter and Chatter filled the bedroom till around 3am, when Buggy set the leftovers of the impromptu meal on the nightstand, the empty wine bottle on the floor and cuddled you close. Pressing you against his neck as you two felt exhaustion take you.

"Your not working for the next few days.. Gonna Burn Out-" Buggy mumbled as he felt your breath even out and cuddle closer to him. You nod "Fine.. But same goes to you" You yawn, Buggy patting your arm in agreement.

"Deal.. Now sleep" He grumbled closing his eyes.

"I love you Bugs"

"I love you More.."

#x reader #one piece #one peice x reader #one peice live action #buggy one piece #buggy the clown #buggy x reader #op buggy #captain buggy #reader insert #buggy the clown x reader #buggy thoughts #jessica rabbit effect

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2b4st4r · 11 days ago

Text

The broken facade

Straw hats x F!reader

Words: 15,562

Warnings: Emotional Distress/Breakdown, Mental Health Themes, Nightmares, Physical Injury(minor),use of Y/n

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

A warm, inviting smile was a permanent fixture on your face, a soft counterpoint to the boisterous energy of the Straw Hat Pirates. Your laughter, a gentle chime, often blended with Usopp's dramatic tales or Luffy's unadulterated joy. You were kindness personified, always ready with a comforting word or a helping hand, a steady presence amidst the chaos. Yet, if one were to truly look, to linger just a moment longer on your seemingly carefree expression, they might notice a subtle dissonance. For all the mirth that danced on your lips, for all the warmth that radiated from your demeanor, your eyes—those windows to the soul—remained curiously untouched. They held a depth that the bright smile never quite reached, a quietude that hinted at stories untold, emotions carefully guarded. You were a master of your own performance, a beautiful facade crafted to perfection, sailing the Grand Line with a secret held tightly behind those unwavering, unsmiling eyes.

Behind the radiant mask, a different reality clawed at your insides. It wasn't just a quietude in your eyes; it was a vast, echoing emptiness, a hollow ache that settled deep in your bones. Every cheerful word, every genuine laugh from your nakama, felt like a distant echo in a cavern of despair that you alone inhabited. Anxiety was a constant, icy tendril around your heart, tightening with every unexpected sound, every sudden movement. It whispered insidious doubts, convincing you that their kindness was fragile, their acceptance conditional. You meticulously replayed every interaction, dissecting smiles for hidden meanings, scrutinizing glances for judgment.

The moments alone were the worst. The quiet hum of the ship at night, the gentle sway of the waves—these weren't peaceful; they were fertile ground for the churning storm within. Your mind became a relentless tormentor, conjuring up worst-case scenarios, replaying past failures, and reminding you of a profound, inherent unworthiness. It was a vicious cycle: the exhaustion from maintaining the facade only fueled the anxiety, and the anxiety made the emptiness feel even more insurmountable.

You knew, with a certainty that was both crushing and liberating, that this was not their fault. The Straw Hats were everything good and true, beacons of unwavering loyalty and boundless joy. They were innocent of the darkness that festered within you. This burden, this constant performance, was entirely yours, a legacy of a life you'd carefully erased and meticulously rebuilt. And so, the smile remained, bright and unwavering, a beautiful lie that kept the real you hidden, safe, and utterly alone.

The first tendrils of dawn barely pierced the porthole, but for you, the night had offered no solace. Sleep had been a fractured, brutal affair, a dizzying carousel of the anxieties you fought so hard to suppress in the waking hours. Each time your mind threatened to drift, it was seized by the endless loop of night horrors: shadowy figures lurking just beyond your sight, critical voices whispering your deepest fears, scenarios of abandonment playing out in vivid, agonizing detail. You’d woken countless times, heart hammering against your ribs, the phantom chill of dread clinging to your skin.

Now, a new sensation began to cut through the lingering malaise: the irresistible scent of Sanji’s cooking. It was a symphony of savory and sweet—crisping bacon, freshly baked bread, the rich aroma of coffee—wafting through the Thousand Sunny, a daily reminder of the warmth and normalcy you desperately craved, and equally, the mask you had to don.

Slowly, you pushed yourself upright, the protest of your stiff muscles a minor inconvenience compared to the battle raging in your mind. The ship was beginning to stir; you could hear faint footsteps and the distant rumble of Luffy’s laugh already. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, you began the familiar ritual. First, the smoothing of your clothes, ensuring every wrinkle was banished. Then, a deliberate stretch of your facial muscles, practiced to perfection, preparing them for the effortless curve of a smile. Finally, you met your own gaze in the small, reflective surface of the porthole. Your eyes, still shadowed with the night’s torments, stared back, unyielding. But as you reached for the door, the mask began to settle, piece by careful piece. By the time you stepped out onto the deck, ready to greet the day and your unsuspecting friends, the radiant, unblemished facade was firmly in place.

Stepping out onto the sunny deck, you let out a small, delicate yawn, covering your mouth politely with a hand. It was genuine, a remnant of the terrible night, but it quickly morphed into the familiar, bright smile as your eyes swept over the bustling kitchen.

"Good morning, everyone!" you chirped, your voice light and clear, carrying just above the general hubbub. Luffy, already halfway through a mountain of pancakes, simply grunted in response, his cheeks bulging. Chopper, perched excitedly on his stool, waved a tiny hoof.

"Y/N-chwaaan! Good morning, my sweet flower!" Sanji practically materialized beside you, a plate laden with perfectly arranged bacon and eggs appearing as if by magic. "I hope you slept wonderfully! Your breakfast is ready, made with all my love!"

You giggled, a soft, pleasant sound. "Oh, Sanji, you're too kind! It smells amazing, as always." You accepted the plate, carefully setting it down as you took your usual spot between Robin and Usopp.

"So, how did everyone sleep?" you asked, looking around the table, your smile unwavering.

"Slept like a log!" Usopp declared, puffing out his chest. "Dreamed I was leading an army of giant sea kings against a terrifying kraken! I was magnificent!"

Robin chuckled softly, a knowing glint in her eyes. "Peacefully, thank you, Y/N. The Sunny is always a comfortable place to rest."

"I slept great!" Luffy finally managed to say, crumbs flying from his mouth. "Dreamed about meat!"

Zoro, ever the early riser, was already halfway through his own breakfast, grumbling good-naturedly. "What's it to ya? Same as always."

You nodded, a picture of contented ease. "That's good to hear! It's going to be another beautiful day on the Grand Line, isn't it?" Every word was a perfect note in the symphony of your facade, betraying nothing of the silent screams of the night.

You picked up your fork, the delicious aroma of Sanji's cooking momentarily warring with the queasy knot in your stomach. The rich, savory scent that usually made your mouth water now felt cloying, almost suffocating. You took a small bite of the bacon, chewing slowly, forcing it down. Each swallow felt like an effort, a struggle against the rising tide of nausea. You managed a few more bites, pushing a piece of toast around your plate, trying to appear engaged.

The truth was, the thought of eating anything substantial right now made your stomach churn. With only two hours of fragmented sleep, your body felt wrung out, every nerve ending frayed. Yesterday had been a relentless blur of activity, tending to Nami’s charts, helping Franky with a minor repair, even assisting Chopper with his latest medicinal concoction – always busy, always productive, always moving to outrun the silence. And today promised to be no different. The exhaustion was a heavy cloak, weighing down your limbs, dulling your senses, leaving you feeling profoundly, sickeningly tired. You just needed to keep up appearances, to make it seem like you were enjoying the meal, like everything was perfectly normal. So, you smiled again, a little brighter this time, and took another small, reluctant bite.

"Sanji-kun," you said, your voice a little louder than necessary, punctuated by that prominent, cheeky smile that reached only your cheeks, "this is absolutely delicious! You've truly outdone yourself today!"

Sanji practically preened, twirling in place. "Anything for my lovely Y/N-chwan! I'm so glad you're enjoying it!"

You forced down a few more bites, each mouthful a heavy, leaden weight. The rich flavors, usually a delight, now felt like a chore, a performance you had to sustain. You chewed slowly, swallowed with effort, and then, with a subtle sigh that you hoped sounded contented rather than strained, you placed your fork down.

"Ohh," you groaned playfully, leaning back in your chair. "That was so good, but I'm just too full!" You patted your stomach for emphasis, the gesture light and airy. "I couldn't possibly eat another bite."

Before anyone could offer concern or push you to eat more, you deftly scooped the remaining, untouched portions of your breakfast onto Luffy’s perpetually empty plate. "Here, Luffy! You can finish the rest for me, if you want!"

Luffy, whose eyes had been tracking the food with laser precision, let out a delighted cheer. "Really?! Thanks, Y/N!" He didn't waste a second, immediately shoveling the extra food into his mouth, oblivious to the careful choreography that had just unfolded before him. You watched him, your smile still firmly in place, a silent sigh of relief escaping your lips as the unwanted food vanished.

You stretched languidly, a graceful arch of your back that seemed to ripple with effortless ease, though every muscle screamed in protest. Your smile remained firmly affixed as you turned to Nami, who was poring over a new map spread across the table.

"So, Nami-swan," you chimed, your voice light and inquisitive, "what are the plans for today? Any exciting new islands on the horizon?"

Nami looked up, a thoughtful frown creasing her brow as she tapped a spot on the map. "Well, Y/N, it looks like we're still a day or so out from our next stop. We could use the time for some maintenance, maybe a bit of fishing." She glanced at you, her sharp navigator's eyes briefly lingering on your face.

You held her gaze, your smile unwavering, a perfect picture of bright eagerness. But even in the cheerful morning light, a subtle shadow betrayed your practiced cheer. You had completely forgotten to put on even your minimal makeup this morning, a tiny oversight that usually went unnoticed. Normally, a light touch of concealer was enough to banish the tell-tale signs of restless nights, those faint purplish smudges that occasionally bloomed beneath your eyes. Today, however, they were undeniably present, dark smudges beneath eyes that, for all their outward cheer, remained devoid of true mirth. It was a tiny crack in the meticulously constructed facade, visible only if one knew where to look, and lingered just a moment too long.

Nami's sharp eyes, so adept at spotting distant islands and changing weather patterns, easily picked up on the subtle discoloration beneath yours. Her brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of concern crossing her usually confident features.

"Y/N," she began, her voice softening, "are you okay? You look... a little tired."

The question hung in the air, a tiny tremor in your perfectly composed world. For a split second, a flicker of raw exhaustion threatened to show in your eyes, but you quickly suppressed it. Your smile, though, didn't waver. It broadened, if anything, becoming even more resolutely cheerful.

"Me? Tired?" you chuckled, a light, airy sound that perfectly masked the frantic scramble of your mind. "Oh no, Nami! I'm perfectly fine!" You waved a dismissive hand. "Just had a bit of a silly dream last night, you know, one of those really vivid ones that makes you feel like you've run a marathon in your sleep! Silly, right?" You even added a playful roll of your eyes for good measure. "But nothing a good day on the Sunny can't fix!"

Dismissing Nami's concern with a breezy wave and a convincing lie, you quickly rose from the table. Staying still felt dangerous, giving your mind too much space to dwell on the exhaustion clinging to you. Movement was a distraction, a way to reassert control. You stretched again, a little more emphatically this time, and then began to circulate among the crew, offering help wherever you could.

You headed straight for the galley, where Sanji was already humming as he cleared away the breakfast dishes. "Sanji-kun, let me help you with that!" you offered, already reaching for a stack of plates. Your movements were swift and efficient, the muscle memory of countless hours spent assisting the crew taking over.

Sanji, ever the gentleman, tried to protest. "Nonsense, Y/N-chwan! A lady like yourself shouldn't lift a finger! I've got this!"

You just giggled, gently nudging him aside. "Oh, stop it, you! We're a crew, aren't we? Besides, you cooked, so the least I can do is help with the clean-up!" You began stacking the plates, meticulously wiping down the counters Sanji had just cleared, every action precise and purposeful. The clatter of crockery, the soft hiss of running water, and Sanji's contented sighs filled the kitchen, a comforting symphony that drowned out the quiet hum of your own inner turmoil. You kept your back slightly turned, focusing on the task, allowing the rhythmic motions to soothe the frayed edges of your nerves.

Lost in the rhythmic motion of washing, your mind drifted, a dangerous habit when your guard was down. One moment, you were scrubbing a stubborn pot; the next, a sharp, searing pain jolted you. You'd been careless, and the edge of a forgotten knife, lurking among the suds, had found its mark.

You winced, a small, involuntary gasp escaping your lips. A bead of crimson bloomed on your fingertip, stark against the pale skin. Your gaze fixated on it, the bright red droplet mesmerizing. The warmth of the blood, the sharp sting of the cut, it all felt strangely…familiar. Your mind, already weary and frayed, began to drift, pulling you into a cold, dark current. Just like everything else, you break easily. Always tearing, always damaged. Useless. The dark thoughts, a constant hum beneath your cheerful façade, now surged forward, amplified by the dull ache in your hand.

"Y/N-chwan, are you alright?" Sanji's voice, laced with sudden concern, cut through the haze. He had been drying dishes, but his eyes, ever watchful, had caught the subtle flinch, the arrested motion. He took a step closer, his gaze falling directly onto the small, bleeding cut on your finger. "You've cut yourself!"

Sanji's voice, sharp with concern, pulled you abruptly from the suffocating grip of your thoughts. The dark internal monologue dissipated, replaced by the immediate need to reassure him. You quickly plastered on your brightest, most disarming smile, pulling your hand back as if the cut were an afterthought.

"Oh, this?" you chirped, a little too quickly, waving your finger dismissively. "It's nothing, Sanji-kun! Just a tiny nick. I'm perfectly fine!" You even managed a light laugh, the sound bubbling up effortlessly despite the lingering nausea and exhaustion.

Sanji, however, wasn't convinced. He huffed, a theatrical sigh that was part exasperation, part genuine worry. "Nonsense, Y/N-chwan! A lady's delicate hands shouldn't be subjected to such indignities!" He gently, but firmly, took the sponge from your hand. "That's it! No more dishwashing for you today!" Before you could protest, he gently, but definitively, steered you out of the kitchen, his concern overriding your feigned cheerfulness. "Go on, relax! I'll finish up here."

Once safely out of Sanji's line of sight, the forced smile slipped, replaced by a subtle, almost imperceptible shift in your expression. Your gaze dropped to your fingertip, where a fresh crimson bead welled from the small cut. You didn't wince this time, but rather, you brought your hand closer, almost playing with the wound, tracing its outline with the pad of your thumb. It was a small injury, easily dismissed, yet you inspected it with an almost detached curiosity, a fleeting moment of connection to something tangible, something that truly hurt.

Your mind, ever-restless, immediately began cataloging the ship's current needs. Who needs help now? the silent question echoed, pushing away the lingering echoes of dark thoughts. Nami was engrossed in her maps, Robin in her books. Usopp and Chopper were likely absorbed in some new invention or game. Luffy and Zoro were probably... well, just being Luffy and Zoro. Your eyes scanned the deck, finally landing on the unmistakable form of Franky in his workshop below. Perfect. He always had a project, something mechanical and absorbing that required focus, leaving little room for introspection.

You descended the steps to Franky's workshop, the familiar clang of metal and the smell of oil a comforting, grounding presence. The space was a glorious, organized chaos of blueprints, tools, and half-finished inventions. Franky himself was engrossed in a tangle of wires and gears, his broad back to you, humming a cheerful tune.

"Hey, Franky!" you called out, your voice bright, stepping further into the workshop. You made sure your smile was back in place, ready to deflect any lingering concern. "Need an extra pair of hands with anything super today?"

Franky spun around, his star-emblazoned forearms flexing. "Oh, Y/N! Super timing! I was just about to tackle the hydraulics on the Gaon Cannon. It's a bit of a delicate operation, requires a steady hand and a keen eye!" He gestured to a complex assembly of pipes and valves. "Think you're up for helping a super craftsman?"

"Absolutely!" you replied, already reaching for a discarded wrench. The task seemed perfect – intricate enough to demand your full attention, leaving no space for the gnawing emptiness or the lingering fatigue. You knew that losing yourself in Franky's world of gears and circuits was the best way to forget the stinging cut on your finger, the dark thoughts of the night, and the ever-present burden of your own carefully constructed facade. Here, amidst the whirring of machines and Franky's boisterous enthusiasm, you could almost believe your smile was real.

Hours later, the workshop buzzed with the hum of progress, and Franky’s booming "SUUUUUPER!" had become a familiar backdrop. You were meticulously tightening a bolt on a complex hydraulic joint, your brow furrowed in concentration. Franky, ever the showman, had just demonstrated a new, highly volatile lubricant, a bright blue concoction that shimmered with strange energy.

"Careful with this stuff, Y/N!" he boomed, holding up a beaker. "It's super slick! Just a drop can make anything slide!"

You nodded, focusing on the bolt. Your exhaustion, however, was a persistent, dull ache, subtly impacting your precision. As you gave the wrench a final turn, your fingers, slick with a microscopic trace of the lubricant from a previous touch, suddenly fumbled. The wrench slipped, not just from your grasp, but it spun wildly, catching a crucial pressure valve you were not supposed to touch.

A sharp hiss erupted as the valve twisted, sending a jet of highly pressurized steam — not the blue lubricant, but scalding vapor from an adjacent system — screaming past your ear. You gasped, a genuine, startled sound that lacked any trace of your usual cheerful composure. Your hand shot out, not to fix the valve, but to instinctively cover your ear, your eyes wide with a flash of genuine fear. The smile had vanished, replaced by a raw, unmasked expression of alarm and vulnerability. For a brief, terrifying second, the effortless mask shattered, revealing the fragile, overwhelmed person beneath.

Franky, quick to react, slammed his hand down on an emergency shut-off. The hiss died. He turned to you, his usually boisterous expression softened by concern. "Woah, Y/N! Are you okay?! That was a close one! What happened?"

You just stood there, breathing heavily, your hand still clutching your ear, your eyes, for once, mirroring the tremor in your hands. This was the second time today. First the cut, now this. What was wrong with you? The facade was meant to be impenetrable.

The moment stretched, silent save for the lingering scent of steam. Then, with a visible, almost physical effort, you forced your features back into their familiar configuration. The raw fear receded, replaced by the ever-present, bright smile. You dropped your hand from your ear, though a phantom ringing still echoed.

"Oh, Franky, I am so, so sorry!" you exclaimed, your voice bubbling with a manufactured cheerfulness. "How incredibly clumsy of me! I must have gotten distracted for a second there. Are you sure everything's alright? I really hope I didn't mess up your amazing work!" You even managed a small, apologetic bow, a picture of innocent remorse.

Franky stared at you, his mechanical eyes seeming to search your face. He'd seen it—that raw, unguarded moment of fear. He'd seen the deadness in your eyes for that fleeting second, a stark contrast to the lively sparkle they usually held. He'd never seen you truly lose your composure, not like that. It was jarring, confusing. You were always so unfailingly cheerful, so perfectly composed. He scratched his head, a confused rumble in his chest. "Uh, yeah, Y/N... everything's super now. Just... just be more careful next time, okay?" His voice was gentler than usual, a hint of genuine bewilderment in his tone. He watched you for another moment, trying to reconcile the bright, apologetic smile with the unsettling vulnerability he'd just witnessed.

The air in the workshop suddenly felt stifling, the smell of oil and metal cloying. You could feel a subtle tremor in your hand, a barely perceptible tremble that threatened to betray the calm facade. A knot of fear twisted in your chest, a cold dread that Franky had seen too much, that the cracks were becoming too obvious. You needed to escape, to put distance between yourself and his discerning gaze.

With a soft, kind smile that didn't quite reach the lingering anxiety in your eyes, you gave him a quick, deferential bow. "Franky, I am so incredibly sorry again for nearly messing up your magnificent work!" you said, your voice light and airy. "I wouldn't want to be a burden or get in your way anymore. I'll just leave you to your genius!" You were already backing away, turning before he could fully process your words. "I'll see you later!"

Franky, still slightly bewildered by your sudden shift from alarm to effervescent apology, could only manage a half-formed "Wa—" before you were already halfway up the stairs, vanishing from the workshop as quickly as you'd arrived.

You practically fled the workshop, the need to be alone, to process the near-catastrophe, an urgent, silent command. Once on the main deck, your eyes darted around, searching for the quickest, most inconspicuous escape. The stack of large, empty crates near the mast offered the perfect refuge. You slipped behind them, pressing your back against the cool, rough wood of the ship's hull.

A shudder ran through you. Your breath hitched, and you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to rein in the runaway panic. The hand that had fumbled the wrench was still trembling, a frantic vibration that mirrored the erratic beat of your heart. Fear coiled in your stomach, a cold, heavy stone. You could still hear Franky's confused tone, still see the flicker of concern in Nami's eyes from earlier. The facade, your carefully constructed shield, felt thin, almost transparent. You dug your nails into your palms, trying to ground yourself, to force the frantic rhythm of your breathing back to normal. Calm down. Calm down. You're fine. You're always fine.

A sudden crash jolted you from your frantic attempts to regain composure. It sounded like something heavy, something wooden, had toppled over. Your head snapped up, the immediate instinct to investigate overriding your need to hide. With a practiced breath, you smoothed your expression, pulling the mask back into place, and cautiously peered around the edge of the crates.

And there he was. Chopper. He was perched precariously on a smaller crate, stretching his tiny hooves towards a shelf high above. Around him lay a scattered mess of bottles, bandages, and a few dropped instruments. It was clear now: a larger, empty crate, one he'd likely tried to climb onto, had fallen with a resounding thud.

"Chopper?" you called out, your voice laced with your usual gentle concern. "Are you alright? What are you doing back here?" You stepped out from behind your hiding spot, your smile already in place. "Did something fall? Do you need some help?"

Chopper startled, nearly tumbling off his makeshift perch. "Y-Y/N! W-wah! I was just... I was trying to get some of the emergency medical supplies!" he stammered, pointing a hoof at the now-fallen crate and the high shelf. "There was a new batch that needed to be stored, but I couldn't quite reach it, and then... then it fell and..." He trailed off, looking dejectedly at the scattered items.

You offered Chopper a gentle, knowing smile, the kind that was reserved just for him. "Oh, Chopper," you said, your voice soft and warm, "you could have just asked for help. We're a crew, after all!" You knelt down, even though your body was screaming against you, every muscle protesting the movement. Your limbs felt heavy, like lead, and the persistent ache of exhaustion was a dull roar behind your ears. But you ignored it, pushing through the fatigue.

"Here, let me," you continued, already reaching for the scattered medical supplies. You carefully gathered the bottles and bandages, then, with a surprising amount of effort, hefted the fallen crate back upright. "You take the lead, tell me where these go, and I'll bring them in." You kept your movements deliberate, concealing the way your muscles sore and in desperate need of sleep.

Chopper's eyes lit up, his earlier dejection vanishing instantly. "Really?! You'll help, Y/N?! You're the best! Okay, follow me! We need to put the anti-inflammatory cream next to the bandages, and the fever reducers on the top shelf, but careful, they're fragile!" He trotted off excitedly, already planning the perfect organization of his precious medicines, completely oblivious to the silent battle you were fighting. You simply smiled, a picture of calm helpfulness, and followed him, the heavy crate a stark reminder of the toll your day was taking.

You followed Chopper into the infirmary, the heavy crate of medical supplies feeling like a lead weight in your arms. As you walked, Chopper chattered animatedly about the different uses for each medicine, his voice a comforting, if slightly distant, hum.

"And this one, Y/N, is for really bad fevers! It makes the patient sweat out all the sickness!" he explained, pointing to a small vial. "And this paste is super good for bruises! Luffy gets so many bruises, you know!"

You smiled, nodding at all the right moments, offering soft "Mm-hmms" and "Oh, reallys?" But your mind, despite the cheerful responses, was a thousand miles away. You were moving on autopilot, your body going through the motions while your thoughts swirled in a chaotic eddy. The cool touch of the crate against your chest, the faint scent of antiseptics in the infirmary – these were dull sensations compared to the insistent throb of your head and the deep, pervasive weariness that had settled in your bones. You were a marionette, expertly pulled by invisible strings, presenting a flawless performance while the puppeteer, your true self, was slumped and broken backstage.

Finally, you and Chopper reached the infirmary. The organized shelves and neat rows of medical supplies offered a semblance of order, a stark contrast to the disarray within you. You carefully set the crate down, a wave of dizziness washing over you from the sudden release of weight.

"Alright, Chopper, where do these go?" you asked, managing to keep your voice steady. Seeing his eager face, you immediately offered, "Do you want me to help put everything up on the high shelves? I can reach those easily." The words were out before you could fully process the implication – more lifting, more stretching, more effort. Your body screamed in protest, a dull throb in your temples amplifying the message of exhaustion. But the thought of leaving Chopper to struggle, and the inherent need to keep moving, to keep contributing, outweighed the physical discomfort.

Chopper tilted his head, thinking hard for a moment, his tiny brow furrowed in concentration. He knew you were always helpful, but he also remembered you looking a little tired earlier. His innocent, pure heart quickly decided the extra help was worth it. "Really, Y/N? You'd do that? That'd be super helpful!" he exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with gratitude. "Okay! We'll start with the pain relievers first, they go right up here!" He pointed to the very top shelf, oblivious to the quiet groan your muscles had just uttered. You simply smiled, a picture of cheerful willingness, and reached for the first bottle.

You kept your smile fixed, a practiced, almost painful curve to your lips, as you continued to listen to Chopper’s enthusiastic instructions. Each bottle placed on a shelf, each box tucked away, was a testament to your unwavering facade. But beneath the surface, the exhaustion was a crushing weight. Your limbs felt heavy, your head throbbed, and the world seemed to sway with every subtle movement of the ship. The memory of the knife cutting your finger earlier felt distant, yet the raw sting of it was a constant, dull reminder. And Franky’s confused gaze, the brief, terrifying moment your carefully constructed persona had faltered, replayed in your mind, a cold dread twisting your gut.

Chopper, however, in his diligent and observant way, was already focusing on your hand. His big, innocent eyes, sharp with a doctor's instinct, landed on the small cut. It was minor, true, just a thin red line, but Chopper knew better than anyone that even the smallest cuts could be painful, and more importantly, they were prone to infections if not properly treated. His brow furrowed with concern. "Y/N," he said, his voice softer now, a hint of his doctor's seriousness in his tone, "you have a cut on your finger."

You instinctively tried to pull your hand back, a small, involuntary movement, but Chopper was quicker. Before you could respond, he gently, but firmly, took your injured finger in his tiny hoof. His brow was knitted in a serious, doctorly frown, and his normally cheerful demeanor had shifted to one of focused concern.

"It's just a little cut, Chopper," you said, forcing another smile, though your voice sounded a little strained even to your own ears. "Honestly, it's nothing to worry about." You tried to subtly tug your hand away, but his grip, though gentle, was surprisingly resolute.

Chopper shook his head, his small ears drooping slightly. "Even little cuts can get infected, Y/N! And they hurt! Does it hurt?" His eyes, wide and earnest, looked directly into yours, searching. For a moment, the practiced cheer in your own eyes faltered, replaced by a flicker of genuine discomfort, a fleeting glimpse of the pain you usually kept so well hidden.

"It's... just a tiny bit," you admitted softly, unable to completely lie under his sincere gaze.

Chopper nodded decisively. "See? We have to take care of it! Now, let me get some antiseptic and a bandage. You just stay right there!" He scampered off to grab the necessary supplies, leaving you standing amidst the neatly organized shelves, your hand still throbbing faintly, and the weight of your exhaustion feeling heavier than ever. The warmth of his concern, however, was a faint, unexpected balm on the raw edges of your carefully constructed composure.

Chopper returned quickly, his little hooves clattering as he approached with a small bottle of antiseptic and a roll of fresh bandages. "Alright, Y/N, hold still!" he instructed, his voice serious and professional. He gently dabbed the antiseptic on your finger, the sting a sharp, but brief, sensation. "This might hurt a little, but it'll stop any bad germs from getting in!" He then meticulously wrapped the small wound with a clean white bandage, his tiny fingers surprisingly deft. "There! All better! See? Doctor Chopper to the rescue!" He puffed out his chest proudly.

"Thank you, Chopper," you said, your smile genuine this time, a flicker of true warmth finally touching your eyes as you looked at the neat bandage. "You're the best doctor in the world."

Chopper beamed, but then his expression turned stern. "Now, Y/N! You need to rest that hand! And you've been working hard all morning helping me! Plus, you looked really tired earlier." He placed his hooves on his hips, mimicking a strict parent. "No more helping with anything strenuous today! Doctor's orders! Go on, get out of here and go relax!" Before you could protest or offer another excuse, he gently but firmly nudged you towards the infirmary door. "Go on! Shoo! I can handle the rest now!"

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. "Oh, Chopper, you're definitely overreacting," you teased gently, though a quiet part of you was secretly relieved. The idea of truly resting, even for a little while, was a siren song. You reached out and gave his soft head a quick, affectionate pat. "But if the world's best doctor insists, then I suppose I have no choice but to obey."

With a final, warm smile directed at the proud reindeer, you turned and stepped out of the infirmary, leaving Chopper to his important medical duties.

Stepping out onto the main deck, the world seemed to shift. The enclosed air of the infirmary gave way to the expansive embrace of the sea. You inhaled deeply, the salty tang of the ocean filling your lungs, crisp and clean. The warm sun of the Grand Line kissed your skin, chasing away the lingering chill of exhaustion. Above, the clear blue sky stretched endlessly, dotted with only a few wisps of clouds. The gentle rocking of the Sunny beneath your feet was a soothing rhythm, a lullaby compared to the frantic beating of your own heart.

Then, you heard it. The melancholic yet utterly captivating notes of a violin. It was Brook, his ethereal melodies weaving through the salty air. The music was a poignant tapestry of sound, delicate yet profound, each stroke of his bow a whisper of sorrow and joy intertwined. It flowed around you, seeped into your very bones, and, for the first time that day, you felt a genuine, deep breath escape your chest. The beautiful, mournful strains seemed to acknowledge the weariness within you, to cradle the unspoken anxieties, and in doing so, it began to calm you down, a gentle hand guiding you away from the precipice of panic.

You drifted closer to Brook, drawn by the soulful strains of his music. He sat on a deck chair, his violin nestled under his chin, his bony fingers dancing across the strings. The music swirled around him, a gentle comfort.

"Brook," you said softly, your voice barely above the music, "that's beautiful. Is there anything you need help with?"

Brook paused his playing, turning his skull towards you, a perfect gentlemanly bow. "Yohohoho! Why, thank you, Y/N-san! Your kind words are music to my ears... though I have no ears! Skull joke!" He paused for a beat, waiting for the customary chuckle, then continued, "As for assistance, not necessarily, my dear. Though, if you were so inclined, perhaps you'd be so kind as to show me your panties?~"

You offered him your practiced, amused smile, one that acknowledged his perverted tendencies without giving in. "Oh, Brook," you sighed playfully, shaking your head. "You know better than that!" You looked at him, the soft, kind smile unwavering. "But truly, if there's anything at all, just let me know."

Brook was about to launch into another "Yohohoho!" or perhaps another request for your undergarments, when a sharp, clear voice cut across the deck, slicing through the peaceful melody of his violin.

"Y/N! COME HERE!"

It was Nami, her voice carrying an unmistakable tone of urgency that brooked no delay. She was standing by the ship's railing, a large, unfurled map flapping slightly in the breeze, her brow furrowed in concentration. The playful atmosphere around Brook vanished instantly, replaced by the familiar call to duty.

You offered Brook a quick, apologetic smile. "Looks like duty calls, Brook! I'll catch you later!" You didn't wait for a response, already turning and heading swiftly towards Nami. The brief respite, the soothing balm of Brook's music, evaporated, and the familiar knot of anxiety began to tighten in your chest once more. Whatever Nami needed, it would demand your full attention, leaving no room for the quiet solace you had just found. The Grand Line, ever unpredictable, rarely allowed for long moments of peace, and your facade, it seemed, would be needed once again.

You approached Nami, the faint scent of parchment and sea charts accompanying her usual aura of shrewd intelligence. "Nami-swan, is everything alright?" you asked, your voice immediately shifting to a tone of ready assistance, your smile bright and reassuring. "What do you need help with?"

Nami didn't look up immediately, her intense gaze fixed on a complex network of lines and symbols on the map. "I'm trying to plot a course around this unexpected low-pressure system," she explained, tapping a swirling mass of isotherms. "It's moving faster than anticipated, and if we don't adjust, we could hit some rough seas that would give even Zoro a headache." She finally met your eyes, her brow still furrowed with concern. "I need you to double-check my calculations for the wind currents. My head's been buried in this for hours, and I'm starting to see numbers dance." She gestured to a nearby table covered in various instruments, a sextant, a compass, and a stack of navigation logs. "Specifically, cross-reference the atmospheric pressure readings with the ocean currents from the last twelve hours. I think there might be a subtle anomaly here that's throwing everything off."

You nodded, your mind already sifting through the layers of atmospheric data Nami had laid out. You picked up a logbook, flipping through the pages with practiced ease. "Alright, let's see. The barometric pressure dropped almost imperceptibly around 0200 hours, but the wind direction logs only show a minor shift, not a direct correlation with the pressure decrease." You ran a finger down a column of numbers. "If we factor in the thermocline data from the previous readings, that subtle pressure dip might be indicative of a nascent high-altitude jet stream interaction, drawing moisture from the north-northeast rather than a localized low-pressure system."

You began cross-referencing values on a separate chart, your movements precise despite the lingering fatigue. "This would suggest the system's true trajectory is slightly more northerly than your initial projection. The wind anomaly might not be an error in the current, but a symptom of an entirely different atmospheric phenomenon influencing it from above." You paused, tapping your finger on a specific point on the map. "If we adjust our course by approximately three degrees north and maintain our current speed, we should bypass the worst of the turbulent convection."

Nami looked at the revised calculations, her expression thoughtful. "Hmm, that's a good catch, Y/N. A high-altitude jet stream… I hadn't considered that as the primary influence." She took a deep breath, relief washing over her. "That makes perfect sense. Thank you!" She then turned to you, her initial relief giving way to a renewed concern. Her gaze lingered on your face, taking in the slight paleness, the faint shadows under your eyes that even your bright smile couldn't fully conceal. "You know, Y/N," she began, her voice softer now, "you seem a lot less... upbeat than normal. Are you really okay? You seem quite tired."

You managed to keep your smile in place, though it felt stretched and brittle. "Tired?" you repeated, a light, dismissive laugh escaping your lips. "Nami, darling, it's just the Grand Line! It always keeps us on our toes, doesn't it?" You gestured vaguely towards the endless horizon. "All those thrilling adventures, they're bound to make anyone feel a bit… well, vigorously active!"

You then leaned in conspiratorially, lowering your voice slightly, as if sharing a secret. "Besides," you whispered, "I think Sanji might be putting something extra potent in the breakfast coffee lately. It's got me absolutely buzzing!" You winked, hoping the playful deflection would be enough.

Nami, however, didn't quite buy it. Her eyes, usually so sharp and calculating, held a genuine warmth, a quiet concern that cut through your usual defenses. She reached out and gently squeezed your arm. "Y/N," she said, her voice soft but firm, "you don't have to put on a brave face for me. We're nakama. If something's bothering you, or if you're not feeling well, you can tell me. You don't have to be 'on' all the time."

The unexpected kindness, the direct acknowledgment of your facade, made something inside you clench. You wanted to deny it, to laugh it off, but her gaze was unwavering, compassionate. For a fleeting second, the carefully constructed walls around you wavered, threatening to crumble. You could feel the tremor in your hand start up again, a desperate need to pull away, to run.

You forced another bright smile, a little too wide, a little too quick. "Nami, really, I'm fine! Just a bit of a sleepy morning, that's all. But thank you for caring, you're so sweet!" You gently pulled your arm away, moving to pick up a stray piece of rope on the deck, a sudden need to busy your hands. "Now, did you need help plotting the rest of the course, or are you all set?" You steered the conversation firmly back to navigation, hoping the sudden shift in topic would deter any further probing.

Nami sighed, her expression still a mix of lingering concern and mild exasperation. She knew Y/N was deflecting, but pushing further would only make her withdraw. "Alright, alright, you workaholic," she said, though her voice held a hint of amusement. She gave a dismissive wave of her hand. "Go on, I've got this section. Thanks for the help."

Free from Nami’s probing gaze, you took a quiet breath, the subtle tension in your shoulders easing. Your eyes scanned the deck, needing another task, another distraction. That's when you spotted him: Usopp, hunched over something near the ship's railing, a mischievous grin on his face. Why not? you thought. Usopp's dramatic tales and endless tinkering were usually a good way to lose yourself for a while.

You approached Usopp, your footsteps light and almost silent on the wooden deck. He was deeply engrossed, his brow furrowed in concentration as he meticulously polished a section of his beloved slingshot, Kabuto. Tiny tools lay scattered around him, glinting in the sunlight. He muttered to himself, a low, dramatic murmur, as he inspected a spring with a magnifying glass.

"Hey, Usopp!" you greeted cheerfully, your voice bright and a genuine smile forming, one that came easily when around the crew's resident storyteller.

Usopp startled, nearly dropping a handful of tiny ball bearings. He fumbled, catching them just in time before looking up at you, a dramatic sigh of relief escaping him. "Y/N! Don't sneak up on a man perfecting his ultimate weapon!" he declared, puffing out his chest. "You almost made me misplace my hyper-tension spring! This is vital for my next great invention, the 'Impact Star of a Thousand Terrors!'" He held up Kabuto with an exaggerated flourish.

You chuckled, a soft, pleasant sound. "My apologies, brave captain. I didn't mean to interrupt your important work. What are you up to over here? It looks incredibly serious." You leaned in slightly, feigning intense interest, knowing this would get him talking.

Usopp's eyes lit up, eager to share his genius. "Serious? Y/N, this is beyond serious! This is the frontier of slingshot technology! I'm calibrating the trajectory of my new 'Exploding Birdseed Star,' which will not only disorient our enemies but also provide a nutritious snack for any passing seagulls! It's a two-pronged attack!" He launched into a detailed explanation of the internal mechanisms of Kabuto, complete with hand gestures and sound effects. He described the tensile strength of the elastic bands, the aerodynamics of the pellets, and the precise angle required for maximum impact and minimal collateral damage to innocent marine life.

You listened patiently, interjecting with appropriate "oohs" and "ahhs" and asking questions that encouraged him to elaborate further. Your smile remained fixed, an attentive, admiring expression. The rapid-fire delivery of his words, the sheer absurdity and earnestness of his inventions, created a comforting sensory overload. It was a perfect distraction, demanding just enough engagement to keep the darker thoughts at bay, but not so much that it risked another moment of vulnerability. You let the endless stream of his voice wash over you, a gentle current carrying you away from the turbulent waters of your own mind. For a while, you could simply exist within Usopp's grand narratives, a silent, smiling audience member in his fantastic world.

Usopp was in the middle of demonstrating the "recoil dampener" of his slingshot, holding it up for your inspection. He gestured wildly, his voice rising in dramatic crescendo, when his finger, still coated with some experimental lubricant, slipped. There was a sudden, sickening THWIP! followed by a wet, explosive SPLAT!

Something cold, thick, and utterly foul-smelling erupted from Kabuto's pouch, spraying directly across your face and chest. It was an unholy concoction of fish guts, stale algae, and what felt suspiciously like weeks-old sardine oil – undoubtedly an early prototype of his "Stink Star." You let out a genuine, high-pitched scream, a sound of pure disgust and shock that cut through the pleasant deck noises. The putrid stench hit your nostrils like a physical blow, clinging to your skin and hair, immediately soaking through your clothes. It was disgusting, smelling, and unbelievably sticky.

Usopp froze, his eyes wide with horror, the slingshot still in his hand. His face went pale. "Y-Y/N?! Oh my god! I'm so sorry! It was an accident! I swear!" He was genuinely mortified, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

Just then, Luffy, drawn by the unexpected shriek and the sudden commotion, appeared seemingly out of nowhere, sniffing the air. He took one look at your glistening, foul-smelling form, and his eyes lit up with mischievous delight.

"Pffft! Shishishi! Y/N, you smell like a rotten fish stew!" he bellowed, pointing and laughing. "You're all... all 'Stinky Squid Face Y/N'! Shishishi!" He doubled over, tears streaming down his face as he continued to cackle, oblivious to your predicament.

You stood there, frozen for a beat, the warm sun feeling strangely chilling on your slime-covered skin. The urge to lash out, to yell, to just scream in pure anger and frustration at the unbearable smell and the utter lack of control over your day, surged through you. Your stomach churned, a fresh wave of nausea hitting you. But then, as Luffy continued his oblivious taunts, the mask slammed back down with a vengeance. You forced a shuddering breath, a strangled laugh escaping your lips. "Oh, Luffy, you're terrible!" you managed, attempting to wipe some of the slimy substance from your cheek, only to spread it further. The smile was back, though it felt stretched and thin, betraying the sheer disgust and simmering fury beneath.

The metallic tang of the fish guts mingled with the salt in the air, assaulting your senses. Every instinct screamed to recoil, to rage, but you pushed it all down, a torrent of disgust and fury forcibly stuffed back into the cavern of your own making. You offered Usopp a wobbly, yet insistent smile.

"It's... it's really okay, Usopp," you managed, your voice a little strained but still soft. You tried to sound reassuring, even as the stickiness clung to your hair and the stench made your eyes water. "Just a little… unexpected experimental feature, right?"

Usopp still looked utterly devastated, his mouth agape. "B-but Y/N! You're covered! I'm so sorry!"

You slowly straightened up, the effort making your exhausted muscles protest. "It's fine, really! Nothing a quick shower can't fix." You forced a little laugh, a slightly higher pitch than normal. "Looks like I'm taking an early bath today!"

In the background, Luffy’s "Shishishi!" echoed across the deck, occasionally punctuated by a fresh wave of giggles. He was still finding the "Stinky Squid Face Y/N" nickname endlessly amusing, completely oblivious to your silent battle. With a final, determined smile that felt carved into your face, you turned towards the companionway, eager to escape the smell, the attention, and the suffocating weight of your barely contained composure.

You practically bolted for the women's quarters, the putrid smell clinging to you like a second skin. Inside the small, familiar bathroom, you fumbled with the knobs, desperately twisting until the showerhead sputtered to life, sending a rush of warm water cascading down. You stripped off your clothes, the slimy, reeking fabric dropping to the floor in a disgusting heap.

Stepping under the spray, you closed your eyes, letting the water sluice over your face, washing away the tangible grime. But the invisible grime, the simmering anger and frustration, was harder to dislodge. You grabbed the soap, scrubbing at your skin with furious intensity, almost as if trying to abrade away the memory of the past few hours. Your jaw was clenched, gritting your teeth so hard your temples ached. Each scrub, each rinse, was punctuated by a silent, burning resentment. Stinky Squid Face Y/N. Luffy’s oblivious taunt echoed in your mind, fueling the silent storm. The exhaustion, the near misses, the constant pressure of the facade – it all coalesced into a quiet, simmering rage that you could only express through the desperate force of your scrubbing. You washed, and washed, and washed, until the water finally ran clear and the offensive stench was gone, leaving only the scent of soap and the raw, lingering ache of your suppressed emotions.

Finally, the lingering scent of fish guts was gone, replaced by the fresh, clean smell of soap. You stepped out of the shower, wrapped in a fluffy towel, feeling physically clean, though the exhaustion remained a dull ache. On the floor, the pile of now-damp, still-stinking clothes was a stark reminder of the earlier incident. You eyed them with a weary sigh, but the sharp edge of your anger had dulled.

Your captain was just like that; his playful jabs were never malicious, merely a reflection of his boundless, often thoughtless, joy. There was no need to be upset at Luffy; it was just his nature. And Usopp… poor Usopp had looked genuinely distraught. It was an accident, a genuine mistake, and everyone makes mistakes. The rational part of your mind, the part that constructed the perfect facade, quickly smoothed over the lingering irritation, replacing it with understanding. You were clean now, and that was what mattered. The incident was over.

Dressed in clean clothes, you felt a slight shift in your mood, a subtle easing of the day's constant tension. You quickly rinsed your now-less-offensive outfit in a bucket on deck, leaving it to dry in the warm sun. As you headed back towards the main deck, you spotted Usopp. He was pacing frantically, his hands clasped together, muttering to himself. The moment his eyes landed on you, his shoulders slumped in relief, then immediately tensed with renewed guilt.

He scrambled forward, dropping dramatically to his knees in front of you, bowing his head. "Y/N! Oh, Y/N! I am so, so, so sorry! I don't know what to say! It was a terrible accident! I'm the worst inventor in the world! A disgrace to snipers everywhere! Please, please forgive me for spraying you with the—"

You interrupted his self-flagellating rant by gently placing your hand on his shoulder, your signature soft, kind smile firmly in place. "Usopp, it's okay," you said, your voice calm and reassuring. "Honestly, it's fine. Accidents happen. You can get up now."

You squeezed his shoulder lightly, your smile unwavering. "See? No harm done. Just a bit of a… memorable scent for a while!" You offered a light laugh, the sound perfectly devoid of any lingering annoyance. "Besides, I'm sure it'll make your next invention even more effective, now that you know what not to put in it!"

Usopp slowly rose to his feet, still looking a bit sheepish, but a glimmer of his usual confidence began to return to his eyes. "You really mean it, Y/N? You're not mad?"

"Of course not!" you chirped, giving his shoulder another encouraging pat. "We all have our moments. And honestly, it gave me an excuse for a nice, long shower. You know how much I love those." It was another easy lie, the truth of the forced scrubbing and silent rage safely locked away. You wanted to make him feel better, to erase the guilt from his expressive face. "Now," you continued, letting your hand drop from his shoulder, "what kind of truly spectacular invention were you working on before my dramatic entrance?"

Usopp's eyes immediately lit up, the weight of his previous blunder visibly lifting. He launched into an even more elaborate description of his "Impact Star of a Thousand Terrors," this time adding a new, highly exaggerated anecdote about how the "Stink Star" incident was actually a crucial step in discovering its true power. You listened, nodding, smiling, and occasionally asking a perfectly timed question that fueled his narrative even further. The sun warmed your skin, the gentle sway of the ship was constant, and Usopp's voice, full of improbable adventures and ingenious inventions, became a soothing balm. It was easy, here, to forget the exhaustion, the fear, the constant vigilance. Here, in the familiar rhythm of the Straw Hats' lives, you could almost believe your own facade.

Hours later, the sun was beginning its slow descent, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple. You and Usopp had eventually parted ways, his grand tales winding down for the time being. Now, the overwhelming weariness, which you'd managed to suppress through constant activity and cheerful deflection, began to creep back in, heavy and insistent. Your eyelids felt like lead, your muscles ached with a profound, bone-deep fatigue, and all you truly wanted was to find a quiet corner and simply stop. To let the mask fall, just for a moment.

But the habit was too ingrained, the need to maintain the facade too strong. Your eyes swept the deck, finding Zoro in his usual spot, either napping or meditating, leaning against the mast with his swords nearby. He looked utterly serene, a stark contrast to the storm raging within you. With a profound effort, you forced your lips into that familiar, bright smile, pushing down the desperate need for rest. You started walking towards him, each step a silent struggle.

"Hey, Zoro," you called out softly as you approached, ensuring your voice was light and cheerful. "Need any help with... well, with anything?" You genuinely had no idea what a swordsman might need assistance with, but the offer was a necessary formality.

Zoro slowly opened one eye, the single gaze surprisingly sharp. He grunted, adjusting his position slightly. "Thought you were supposed to be resting that hand," he mumbled, his voice rough. He then gestured vaguely towards a pile of heavy cannonballs nearby. "If you're so intent on helping, I was just about to move these to the lower storage. Need to clear the deck for tonight's watch rotation." He closed his eye again, as if the suggestion was entirely trivial. Moving cannonballs. Heavy, dense, utterly exhausting cannonballs. And in your current state, it felt like an insurmountable task. Yet, the smile remained fixed on your face.

You flashed him a bright smile, the effort straining your already weary facial muscles. "Of course, Zoro! Just tell me where they need to go."

You walked over to the stack of cannonballs, their dull, metallic sheen mocking your profound exhaustion. You bent down, grabbing one of the heavy spheres. As you attempted to lift, your muscles screamed in protest, not just from fatigue, but a sudden, alarming fluctuation. They twitched, threatening to cramp, and for a terrifying second, simply gave in. The cannonball dropped back with a dull thud, and your knees buckled. You pitched forward, barely catching yourself on the stack of iron, a soft "oof" escaping your lips.

You straightened quickly, a forced, shaky laugh bubbling up. "Oops! Slipped!" you chirped, turning back to Zoro with your smile firmly re-established. "Guess the deck's a bit slick today. I'll just… uh… I'll just leave you to it, then! Don't want to get in your way!" You gave him a quick, almost imperceptible nod and then quickly walked away, feigning a sudden need to be elsewhere on the deck.

Zoro, however, didn't miss a beat. His single open eye had observed the entire exchange. He'd seen the sudden tremor in your limbs, the way your muscles had simply refused to cooperate. He knew that feeling intimately; the burn, the complete failure of strength when your body simply had nothing left to give. He'd been a victim of muscles that need a break more times than he could count. He watched you retreat, his brow furrowed, a rare flicker of genuine concern crossing his usually impassive face. Something was definitely off with you today.

You made your way below deck, away from Zoro's scrutinizing gaze, and found yourself in the quiet solitude of your room. The quiet was a balm, and for a precious few minutes, you let your shoulders slump, the ever-present smile finally fading. The exhaustion was a heavy cloak, wrapping around you, beckoning you towards sleep.

Suddenly, a cacophony of sound ripped through the ship. Loud, angry yelling erupted from the deck above, followed by a violent shuddering of the Sunny as if she'd been struck. What the hell?

Every fiber of your being screamed in protest, demanding rest, demanding stillness. The dull ache in your chest, a constant companion, intensified. But the instinct was stronger. Your nakama were in trouble. Without a moment's hesitation, you straightened your back, the familiar warmth of the facade settling over your features once more. The exhaustion was pushed down, the pain ignored. You bolted out of your room, taking the steps two at a time.

Bursting onto the deck, the scene confirmed your fears. Another pirate ship, its black flag emblazoned with a snarling wolf, was lashed alongside the Sunny. Rough-looking pirates, armed with cutlasses and grim expressions, were swarming aboard, their captain a hulking figure at the prow. They were challenging you.

Luffy was already roaring, his fists clenched, while Zoro drew his swords with a feral grin. Sanji was a whirlwind of kicks, and Usopp and Chopper huddled together, ready for action. You ran to join them, the adrenaline a sharp, unwelcome jolt in your system. Your body yelled no, but your smile was unwavering, fixed in place, ready to fight.

The clash of steel and the shouts of battle filled the air, but then, a new voice cut through the din, higher pitched and oddly melodic. From the enemy ship's deck, a figure sauntered forward, unlike any pirate you'd seen. He was a riot of colors, a walking flag himself: a bright yellow coat with crimson cuffs, trousers striped in black and white, and a voluminous teal scarf that billowed dramatically behind him. His movements were almost theatrical, a series of exaggerated flourishes as he stepped onto the connecting gangplank. He sported a meticulously groomed, pointed beard and a single, oversized emerald earring that gleamed in the sunlight. He was utterly, undeniably quirky.

"Mimimi!" he trilled, a bizarre, almost musical laugh that grated on the ears. "Such uncivilized brawling! My, my, haven't we learned anything about proper introductions?" He struck a pose, one hand on his hip, the other dramatically sweeping through the air. "I am Captain Kaleidoscope, master of the Chromatic Corsairs! And I must say, your ship's aesthetic is dreadfully dull. Black and white? So last season!" He sniffed disdainfully, then pointed a gloved finger at Luffy, who was already squaring off against three of his men. "You, Straw Hat! Your outfit is an absolute travesty! Challenge accepted, but only if you promise to brighten up your wardrobe!" He laughed again, a high, irritating sound. "Now, shall we commence the 'Dance of Dueling Colors'?"

The sheer audacity and flamboyant absurdity of him were almost disorienting in the chaos of battle. Luffy, surprisingly, paused, momentarily distracted by the critique of his fashion sense. Zoro just scoffed, clearly finding the man's antics more annoying than intimidating. You, despite the internal struggle and the rising nausea, found a fleeting moment of bizarre amusement. This was certainly a unique way to start a fight.

Captain Kaleidoscope, with a flourish that made his colorful scarf whip around him, extended a hand towards Luffy, a strange, glowing orb of multi-hued light coalescing in his palm. "Prepare yourself, Straw Hat! For the Test of True Colors!" he trilled, his voice resonating with an odd power.

But before the vibrant orb could reach Luffy, a blur of motion interrupted its trajectory. You, driven by an instinct to protect, to shield your friends, had stepped in front of your captain. The colorful light hit you squarely in the chest, not with an impact that knocked you back, but with an odd, shimmering sensation that seemed to ripple through your very being.

A collective gasp rippled through the Straw Hats. Zoro, who had been mid-swing, froze. Sanji's kicking foot hung in the air. Even Luffy, for once, stopped laughing. Their eyes, along with those of the Chromatic Corsairs, were fixed on you.

The vibrant colors of Captain Kaleidoscope's attack seemed to swirl and dissolve around you, and as they faded, a profound, terrifying change washed over your face. The bright, cheerful smile that had been a permanent fixture, the soft kindness in your eyes, the easy laughter – all of it vanished. Your features shifted, subtly but drastically. Your eyes, usually warm and inviting, were now wide, glassy, and utterly vacant, reflecting a profound, bone-deep weariness and a raw, exposed vulnerability. The corners of your mouth pulled down, ever so slightly, revealing a tremor that you usually kept hidden. There was a hollow, distant look in your gaze, a profound sadness that seemed to well up from an infinite well. Your shoulders, which had always been held with such effortless grace, now slumped, a heavy burden visibly weighing them down.

The Straw Hats stood in stunned silence, their weapons momentarily forgotten. They had never seen you look like this—so exposed, so utterly stripped of your carefully constructed facade. The vibrant, endlessly happy Y/N was gone, replaced by a stranger, one who seemed to carry the weight of the entire ocean in her unguarded eyes. What had that man done? The question hung heavy in the air, thick with a sudden, chilling realization.

Captain Kaleidoscope threw his head back, a triumphant, almost childish giggle escaping him. "Mimimi! It seems your sunshine butterfly is really a gloomy caterpillar beneath!" He gestured at you with another flamboyant sweep of his hand. "My 'Color-Reveal' fruit doesn't just change hues, you see! It forces the hidden pigments of the soul to the surface! It strips away all pretense, all pretense, revealing the true colors of one's spirit!" He beamed, clearly delighted with his own power. "And yours, my dear, are a rather dull shade of melancholy, wouldn't you say? Not very super!"

The Straw Hats stared, their faces etched with a mixture of horror and profound confusion. This… this was the Y/N they knew? The perpetual smile, the gentle laugh, the unwavering cheer – gone. Replaced by an expression of raw exhaustion, a palpable sadness that seemed to drag your very being down. They had never seen such vulnerability, such profound emptiness in your eyes. This was the true Y/N.

Amongst the crew's collective shock, Robin's expression was different. Her eyes, usually veiled, were now sharp, unblinking. There was a flicker of anger, yes, a cold fury that anyone would dare to inflict such pain on her friend. But there was no surprise. Robin had lived behind a facade for years, a smile meticulously crafted to hide a lifetime of fear and sorrow. She understood the subtle nuances of a hidden self, the quiet tells that others missed. The way your smile never quite reached your eyes, the almost imperceptible tension in your shoulders, the fleeting moments of stillness that spoke of profound weariness – Robin had noticed. She had never pried, respecting the unspoken boundaries, but she had known. And now, she saw it, laid bare for all to witness. A profound sadness settled in her gaze, not for the revelation itself, but for the silent suffering her friend had endured alone.

The vibrant, almost playful atmosphere of the battle had vanished, replaced by a chilling silence. Captain Kaleidoscope’s mocking laughter echoed across the deck, but it was quickly drowned out by the rising fury of the Straw Hats.

Luffy’s eyes, usually bright with boundless enthusiasm, narrowed into slits. His rubbery body tensed, not with his usual playful anticipation, but with a raw, terrifying rage. "What did you do to Y/N?!" he roared, his voice low and guttural. "You lie! Y/N is always happy! That's not her! You're making it up!" The idea that his nakama, his endlessly cheerful, warm-hearted friend, could harbor such profound sadness was something his simple, honest heart couldn't immediately process. He was in denial, unable to reconcile the image before him with the Y/N he knew.

Beside him, Zoro’s three swords were already in his hands, each blade glinting ominously. His single eye, usually half-lidded, was now fully open, fixed on Captain Kaleidoscope with a chilling intensity. A dark aura seemed to emanate from him, promising swift, brutal retribution. "You're dead," he growled, the words a low, dangerous rumble.

Meanwhile, Robin was already moving. Her calm demeanor belied the surge of protectiveness and cold fury within her. She moved with purpose, her long legs carrying her swiftly to your side. Gently, she placed a hand on your trembling shoulder, her touch firm and grounding. "Y/N," she murmured, her voice soft but unwavering, a stark contrast to the surrounding chaos. "Are you alright?" Her gaze, usually so composed, held a profound understanding, a shared sorrow for the mask that had been so cruelly ripped away.

Sanji, seeing Robin move, followed suit. The usual lovestruck look on his face was replaced by a grim determination. His concern for your well-being, for any lady's well-being, was paramount. He knelt before you, his gaze searching your vacant eyes. "Y/N-chwan," he whispered, his voice uncharacteristically gentle, "look at me. Are you hurt? What is this bastard's power?" His hand hovered, wanting to help, but unsure how to approach this shattered version of the woman he admired.

Captain Kaleidoscope, oblivious to the storm he had unleashed, merely preened. "Mimimi! Fascinating, isn't it? The true essence revealed! Such a wonderfully drab palette!" His laughter was cut short as Luffy, no longer in denial, stretched his arm back, his form a blur of furious intent. "Gear Second!" he roared, steam beginning to erupt from his body. "You're going to pay for making Y/N sad!"

The raw truth of Captain Kaleidoscope's power ripped through you, stripping away not just your outward facade but the very filters you used to protect yourself. The overwhelming exhaustion, the constant fear, the deep-seated sadness – it all surged to the surface, unfiltered, raw. You couldn't hold it back anymore.

With a choked gasp, you pulled your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around your trembling legs. You buried your head, hiding your face from the stunned gazes of your crew. A shaky whisper, devoid of its usual cheerful lilt, escaped your lips. "Just... leave me alone." The words were laced with a profound weariness, a plea born from the depths of your shattered composure. "I'm so... tired." Each syllable was heavy, laden with the weight of sleepless nights, forced smiles, and battles fought in silence. The clamor of the fight, Luffy's enraged roar, Zoro's menacing growl—it all faded into a distant hum compared to the overwhelming desire for oblivion, for a moment of true, unburdened peace.

A chilling silence fell over the Straw Hat Pirates as your raw confession, "Just... leave me alone. I'm so... tired," hung in the air. The vibrant battle cries of moments ago seemed distant, swallowed by the profound vulnerability that had just been laid bare.

Luffy, his face still contorted with rage at Captain Kaleidoscope, faltered. The denial that had momentarily shielded him shattered. This wasn't some trick; this wasn't a lie. The Y/N huddled before him, head buried, trembling, was real. His furious roar died in his throat, replaced by a soft, almost wounded gasp. He remembered your unwavering smile even as he called you "Stinky Squid Face," and the thought made a fresh wave of anger, mixed with a sickening guilt, surge through him. How could he not have seen it?

Zoro lowered his swords, the blades glinting no longer with murderous intent but with a grim, heavy silence. He watched you, the image of your muscles failing earlier flashing in his mind. He’d dismissed it as a momentary lapse, a simple sign of fatigue. But now, seeing you truly break, he understood. This wasn't a moment of weakness; this was her. His typical stoicism cracked, revealing a deep concern. He’d known physical exhaustion, pushed his body to its limits, but this kind of weariness, this profound spiritual fatigue, was something else entirely.

Sanji's breath hitched. The gentlemanly facade he usually wore for women fell away, replaced by genuine heartbreak. He remembered your forced cheer at breakfast, the way you'd pushed away his food, the subtle strain in your laughter. He'd been so focused on providing, on protecting, that he hadn't seen the silent pain you carried. A low growl rumbled in his chest, directed not at you, but at the grotesque Captain Kaleidoscope who had dared to expose such a precious, hidden part of his nakama.

Usopp, still recovering from his own mishap, felt a fresh wave of shame wash over him. He recalled your easy forgiveness for the "Stink Star" incident, your immediate reassurance. Now he saw the true cost of that reassurance—the immense effort it took to maintain that unwavering kindness. He felt a profound pang of guilt for adding to your burden, even unknowingly.

Chopper, his large, innocent eyes welling with tears, remembered your gentle smile as he treated your cut, your willingness to help him with the infirmary supplies despite looking so tired. He hadn’t understood the full extent of that tiredness until now. His small body trembled, overwhelmed by the sudden revelation of his friend's deep sadness.

But it was Robin who reacted with the most chilling clarity. She knelt beside you, her hand still on your shoulder, but now she wrapped an arm around you, pulling you gently closer. Her face was calm, yet her eyes burned with an icy fury directed solely at Captain Kaleidoscope. She understood completely. She'd lived a life encased in a similar shell, a constant performance to survive. She knew the agony of hiding, the suffocating loneliness of maintaining a facade. Her hand rubbed your back soothingly. "It's alright, Y/N," she whispered, her voice surprisingly steady. "It's alright to be tired. We're here now."

Captain Kaleidoscope, meanwhile, stood bewildered, his flamboyant smile faltering. He’d expected drama, perhaps a momentary embarrassment, but not this profound, raw despair. He’d poked a delicate butterfly, and revealed not a caterpillar, but a soul in agony. The shocked silence of the Straw Hats, their sudden, overwhelming rage, was far more terrifying than any immediate attack.

Your whispered plea, "Just... leave me alone. I'm so... tired," dissolved into something more raw, more agonizing. The controlled trembling escalated into a full-body shudder, and then, slowly, agonizingly, it began. A single tear, then another, traced a path down your cheek, hot against your cold skin. The dam had broken. A choked sob tore its way from your throat, followed by another, and another, until your quiet pleas dissolved into a ragged, guttural wail. You weren't just crying; you were breaking down, a profound, visceral release of years of hidden anguish.

Your mind was a whirlwind of confusion. Why can't I hide it? The question screamed in your head, a desperate echo of the control you so rigidly maintained. Why is this anger here? The fury that had festered beneath the surface, the rage at the world, at yourself, at the cruelty of fate – it was no longer a dull hum but a scorching fire, terrifying in its intensity. Why am I crying? You hadn't truly cried in years, not like this, not where the tears burned with genuine sorrow and the sobs racked your entire frame. And why, with the people you cared about most surrounding you, were you screaming, "Leave me alone!" The words were hoarse, desperate, a desperate cry for the solitude you had always used as a shield.

As the raw emotions spilled forth, a profound change seemed to settle over you. The vibrant colors of the Sunny, the bright blues of the sky, the warm golds of the deck, all seemed to dim around you. You looked gray, utterly drained of color, as if the very life force that fueled your cheerful facade had been siphoned away. Your skin seemed paler, your hair duller, your eyes vacant and shadowed.

The Straw Hats watched, frozen in a tableau of shared horror and heartbreak. They saw it all: the shuddering sobs, the profound despair that emanated from you, the way your body seemed to fold in on itself, utterly defeated. This wasn't just physical fatigue; it was the exhaustion of a soul. They saw the true, terrifying depth of the suffering you had carried alone, shielded by that radiant, unyielding smile. They saw the years of suppressed emotion, the silent battles you had fought within yourself. And in that moment, they understood with a crushing clarity that she couldn't anymore. The facade was gone, shattered into a million pieces, revealing a raw, bleeding heart.

The world around you seemed to tilt, the vibrant colors of the Grand Line blurring into a dull, indistinguishable wash. Your raw sobs echoed in your ears, a sound you barely recognized as your own. You felt Robin’s arm tighten around you, a steady, warm presence against your trembling form, but even that felt distant, as if through a thick pane of glass. The desperate cry to be left alone was the last desperate gasp of your self-preservation, a lifetime of training to keep the world at bay.

Then, a new sound cut through the ringing in your ears: a low, menacing growl that vibrated through the deck. It wasn't yours, but Luffy's.

"You... you made Y/N cry!" His voice, usually so full of boundless joy, was now colder, more terrifying than any pirate had ever heard. The steam that had erupted from his Gear Second form intensified, wrapping around him like a vengeful aura. "You... you hurt my nakama!"

Captain Kaleidoscope, who had been gloating moments before, visibly recoiled. He'd never intended this. He’d seen plenty of pirates break, but never like this, never a complete, soul-shattering collapse that drew such raw, primal fury from their crew.

Zoro, his three swords now held aloft, moved with a speed that blurred. His first strike was aimed at the gangplank connecting the two ships, severing it with a single, brutal slice. The enemy ship drifted away, a short distance now widening into an impassable gap.

"Don't you dare think you can escape," Zoro snarled, his gaze fixed on Kaleidoscope. "You started this, and we'll finish it."

Sanji, meanwhile, had shifted. His eyes, usually fixed on the enemy, were now on you. He knelt beside Robin, his movements quick and decisive, pulling a clean cloth from his pocket and gently dabbing at your tear-streaked face. "Y/N-chwan," he murmured, his voice laced with a heartbreaking tenderness. "It's alright. We're here. We've got you."

Chopper, small but determined, scrambled onto your back, wrapping his little hooves around your neck in a tight hug. "Y-Y/N! Don't be sad! We're here! We're your friends!" he cried, tears streaming down his own face.

The rest of the Straw Hats, usually so boisterous and individualistic in battle, formed a protective ring around you, their backs to you, their eyes burning with a silent, unified rage directed at the retreating figure of Captain Kaleidoscope. This wasn't just a fight for treasure, or glory. This was personal. This was for their nakama, their endlessly smiling Y/N, who had been shattered before their very eyes. And they would make him pay for every tear, for every hidden burden he had so cruelly exposed.

The vibrant colors of the world remained muted, replaced by a dull, all-encompassing gray. The battle had been a blur, a distant echo of shouts and clashes that barely registered. Captain Kaleidoscope was defeated, his flamboyant colors reduced to a whimpering mess, but the victory felt hollow, meaningless. Back on the Sunny, you were a ghost in your own body.

You sat huddled in the corner of the infirmary bed, your knees drawn up to your chest, your gaze fixed on the floor. Your eyes were dead, devoid of any spark, any flicker of the warmth they once held. The tears had dried, leaving your face cold and stiff. You were a statue carved from sorrow, a monument to a pain too profound to bear.

Outside, in the hushed tones they usually reserved for storms or funeral rites, the Straw Hats were talking. They were discussing you.

The air on the Sunny was thick with an uncharacteristic silence, broken only by the soft lapping of waves against the hull. The Straw Hats gathered, not in their usual boisterous circle, but in a tight, somber knot, their voices hushed, their eyes occasionally flickering towards the closed infirmary door. The image of you, curled in on yourself, devoid of all color, was seared into their minds.

The Discussion

Zoro was the first to speak, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. "She’s... she's never been like that. Not once. Always smiling, always... bright. I thought she was just tired this morning, but then..." He trailed off, remembering your trembling muscles, the cannonball slipping from your grasp. "That damn clown stripped something away from her." His hand instinctively went to his swords. "We should have cut him down slower."

Nami wrung her hands, her usual assertive demeanor replaced by a fragile helplessness. "But how could we not have seen it? All those times she deflected, those little jokes... I knew she seemed off, but I never imagined..." Her voice cracked. "She helped me with the charts, seemed so sharp, but her eyes... they were empty. And I just let it go." A wave of guilt washed over her. "She even said she was 'vigorously active' when I asked if she was tired. God, it sounds so heartbreaking now."

Usopp slumped, his shoulders heavy. "I... I made her laugh when she was covered in fish guts. I thought she was just being her usual amazing self, always forgiving. She even told me it was okay. How could she smile through that, when she was feeling like that inside?" He buried his face in his hands. "I added to it, didn't I? I made it worse."

Sanji, leaning against the mast, lit a cigarette, the ember glowing like a mournful eye in the deepening twilight. His usual swagger was gone, replaced by a brooding intensity. "That bastard... to do that to a lady. To Y/N-chwan..." His voice was tight, strained. "I sensed something, the way she pushed away breakfast. I thought it was just modesty. But she's been fighting something huge, alone. All this time. And we were too blind to see beyond her smile." He took a long drag, the smoke curling around his tormented expression. "She always worried about being a burden. But we were the burden, letting her carry all that by herself."

Chopper's small body trembled, fresh tears welling in his large eyes. "She always helped me! She was so kind! And I saw her cut, and I thought it was just a little thing... But she looked so sad when I asked if it hurt. She always said she was fine. But she wasn't! She never was!" He sniffled loudly. "I'm a doctor! I should have known!"

Franky, usually so boisterous, was strangely subdued. He stood with his arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the infirmary door. "That flash, when the wrench slipped earlier... I thought it was just a weak moment. Everyone has one, right?" His voice was raspy. "But it wasn't a moment. It was her. All that 'Super!' energy she put out... it was a performance. A damn good one. But to see her just... drain like that. It's not right. It’s not super at all."

Brook, his skull tilted, played a few somber notes on his violin, a mournful dirge for a hidden pain. "Yohohoho... to think, such a radiant person, carrying such a heavy burden. My crude jokes, my lighthearted requests... they must have been like needles to a soul already pricked with sorrow. She always laughed, always so kind. But beneath that laughter, she was weeping silently. I truly have no eyes, to have missed such a profound sadness within our own nakama." His violin's melody grew softer, more poignant.

Robin, her eyes still burning with that cold, protective fury, finally spoke, her voice cutting through the angsty air with quiet certainty. "She learned to survive by hiding. By making herself palatable. Trusting others... being truly vulnerable... it can be the most terrifying thing a person can do, especially when they've been taught otherwise. It's a defense mechanism, built over time." She looked at each of their faces, seeing their guilt, their shock, their dawning understanding. "We didn't see because she didn't want us to. She built that mask meticulously. But now... now it's gone. And we need to show her that it's safe to be without it."

The shared realization hung heavy in the air. Their cheerful, unwavering Y/N, the one who always seemed to be the ray of sunshine, had been living a lie, a protective shell forged from deep pain. And now, that shell was utterly shattered.

A heavy silence followed Robin’s words, a shared understanding settling over the crew. Guilt, concern, and a fierce protectiveness warred on their faces. Then, Luffy, who had been listening with an uncharacteristic stillness, suddenly slammed his fist into his palm, a sound that cut through the somber atmosphere like a cannon shot.

"Alright!" he declared, his voice ringing with renewed conviction, banishing the earlier denial. His eyes, though still serious, blazed with their familiar, unwavering determination. "We are going to fix Y/N! Make her happy!"

His statement hung in the air, audacious and simplistic, yet utterly Luffian in its directness.

Zoro, who had been cleaning his swords with a grim intensity, slowly sheathed them. "Fixing someone isn't like fixing a broken mast, Luffy," he rumbled, but there was no argument in his tone, only a deep-seated commitment. "But we'll make sure she knows she's not alone anymore."

Nami stepped forward, her earlier tears now replaced by a steely resolve. "He's right. We can't just 'fix' a person's emotions. But we can make sure she never has to hide them again. We need to create a space where she feels safe enough to be her true self, no matter what that looks like." She looked at the infirmary door. "No more 'oops, I slipped,' or 'just a silly dream.' We need to listen, really listen."

Usopp wiped his nose with the back of his hand, his eyes red-rimmed but determined. "I'll make her laugh. Not with silly pranks, but... with real laughter. The kind that comes from feeling genuinely happy. I'll make sure she knows she's important, that her feelings matter."

Sanji crushed his cigarette under his heel, a new fire in his eyes. "She won't go hungry again. I'll cook anything she wants, no matter how small the appetite. And anyone who dares to make her feel like a burden will answer to me." His voice was low, dangerous.

Chopper, still teary-eyed, puffed out his chest with a newfound resolve. "I'll be her doctor! I'll make sure she's healthy, physically and emotionally! I'll invent new medicines for sadness if I have to!"

Franky slapped his massive hands together. "She needs to feel super again! Not just acting it, but truly feeling it. Maybe we need a 'Super Y/N Recovery Plan'! Something that makes her feel safe and appreciated, without all the pressure."

Brook strummed a soft, hopeful chord on his violin. "Yohohoho... perhaps we need to remind her that even a beautiful melody has moments of quiet and sorrow, and that those are just as vital to its harmony. We shall play the music of her soul, not just the one she showed us."

Robin, her arm still instinctively reaching towards the infirmary door, offered a rare, soft smile that held immense strength. "Yes," she agreed, her voice a gentle anchor amidst their determined declarations. "We will show her that the Straw Hats are a family where all colors are welcome, especially the ones that have been hidden for too long."

The collective resolve of the crew solidified, a silent promise hanging in the salty air. The battle with Captain Kaleidoscope had stripped away a disguise, but in doing so, it had inadvertently forged a deeper, more profound bond within the Straw Hat family. Their cheerful, unbreakable Y/N was in pain, and they, her nakama, would move the very seas to bring her back to herself.

The Straw Hats, their faces etched with a shared, quiet determination, pushed open the infirmary door. The usual boisterous energy of the crew was replaced by a gentle solemnity as they filed in, filling the small room with their presence. You were still huddled in the corner of the bed, head tucked into your knees, but a faint, almost imperceptible shift had occurred. The dull, lifeless gray that had enveloped you had receded. Your skin held a little more warmth, your hair a hint of its usual luster. The colors of the infirmary, too, seemed to regain their vibrancy around you.

Robin was the first to approach, settling gently beside you on the bed, her arm still around your shoulders. Sanji hovered nearby, his gaze unwavering, while Luffy, Zoro, and the others found places to stand or sit, their eyes fixed on you with a mixture of concern and a newfound understanding.

"Y/N," Robin began, her voice soft but steady, "you don't ever have to pretend with us again."

Sanji nodded, his voice a low, earnest murmur. "Never, Y/N-chwan. Never again will you need to hide your true feelings from us."

"That's right!" Chopper chirped, his voice thick with emotion. "You can be sad, or mad, or tired! We're your nakama!"

You slowly, hesitantly, lifted your head. Your eyes, though still shadowed with immense exhaustion, held a faint glimmer of your natural color. You looked at each of their faces, seeing not judgment, but profound care, a raw, protective love that transcended words. The overwhelming weariness still clung to you, too heavy to allow for your usual sparkling smile, too profound to even attempt the facade. But as you met their gazes, a tiny, fragile curve appeared on your lips, the smallest of smiles. It was an honest smile, born not of performance, but of a quiet, overwhelming gratitude.

The weeks following the "Test of True Colors" were a gentle, painstaking period of healing. The initial, profound sadness that had drained you of all vibrancy slowly, almost imperceptibly, began to recede, replaced by a fragile, tentative peace. You still felt exhausted, the deep well of weariness not easily refilled, but the heavy cloak of pretense was gone. And in its absence, your nakama stepped up in ways you never could have imagined.

Luffy, after the initial shock and fury, approached you with a disarming simplicity. He wouldn't directly mention what happened, but he’d often sit beside you on the deck, quietly eating meat, sometimes offering you a bite. He'd find ways to include you without demanding your usual energy, letting you simply be. Once, he found you staring blankly at the sea and, without a word, stretched his arm around you, pulling you gently into his side for a silent, comforting hug that lasted until you felt a little of the crushing weight lift.

Zoro, ever the stoic, expressed his care in quiet, steady ways. He'd often choose to do his training or meditation near you, a silent, powerful presence. He'd offer you a small, knowing nod, acknowledging your presence without demanding conversation. One evening, finding you struggling to lift a small bucket of water, he simply took it from your hand, silently carried it to where it needed to go, and then returned, his unspoken message clear: You don't have to pretend strength with me.

Nami became your quiet protector. She stopped asking if you were okay, instead subtly guiding you to take breaks, suggesting gentle tasks that wouldn't tax your energy. She’d bring you hot tea to the infirmary, or simply sit with you, reading her maps in companionable silence, letting you know you weren’t alone. She also became fiercely vigilant, glaring down anyone who even looked like they might say something insensitive.

Usopp, deeply remorseful for his accidental spray, dedicated himself to "Operation: Y/N's True Smile." He crafted small, intricate wooden birds that would hover around you, delivering quiet, encouraging messages or small, hand-drawn pictures of your favorite things. He’d tell you his wildest, most unbelievable stories, not for laughter, but simply to transport your mind, to offer a temporary escape from the gloom.

Sanji was a whirlwind of culinary comfort. He started preparing your favorite dishes, even when you claimed not to be hungry, leaving small, enticing plates within easy reach. He'd ensure your meals were packed with nutrients, subtly boosting your energy. He'd also make sure to check on you discreetly, often leaving a warm blanket or a cup of herbal tea by your bedside, with a whispered, "For my precious Y/N-chwan, no need to thank me."

Chopper, with his boundless empathy, became your constant, quiet companion. He’d often just sit by your bed, drawing pictures or talking softly about medical facts, a soothing drone. He checked your pulse and temperature regularly, his little hooves gentle and reassuring. He’d bring you his special "happiness-boosting" juice, a concoction that mostly tasted like berries but was infused with pure, unadulterated care.

Franky decided that the best way to help was to ensure your comfort was "SUPER!" He installed a new, more comfortable recliner on the deck, strategically placed for optimal sunlight but also easily shaded. He reinforced the infirmary bed, making it even softer, and even tried to invent a "mood-lifting sound system" that played gentle ocean waves, much to Usopp's amusement. He simply made sure your physical environment was as comforting as possible.

Brook, in his own unique way, understood the depths of your weariness. He would often play soft, melancholic melodies outside the infirmary door, or sometimes just hum gently if he saw you nearby. His music was no longer a performance, but a heartfelt expression of shared understanding. He understood unspoken pain, and his music acknowledged it, gently cradling your sorrow without demanding that it disappear.

Then, the true toll of your suppressed stress began to manifest in a terrifying new way. The crew started to hear it in the dead of night: a choked whimper, escalating into a strangled scream that tore through the quiet ship. You would wake up drenched in sweat, heart pounding, trapped in the lingering clutches of vivid nightmares that mirrored the anxieties you had so carefully hidden.

The first time it happened, Luffy was at your side in an instant, pulling you into a tight hug, his simple presence a grounding force. Zoro would be there too, a silent guardian, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, ready to face any unseen enemy that threatened your peace.

Sanji would rush in with warm milk or a calming tea. Chopper, ever the doctor, would immediately assess your physical state, checking for fever or distress, and whispering soothing words. Robin would sit by your bed, her voice a calm, steady anchor as she spoke softly until the tremors subsided, explaining the nature of suppressed trauma. Usopp would tell you fantastical stories until you drifted back to sleep, filling your mind with heroic absurdities instead of fear. Franky even installed a soft, dim nightlight in the infirmary for you. Brook would play lullabies, soft and gentle, until the last vestiges of fear were chased away.

They didn't just dismiss your nightmares; they acknowledged them, faced them with you, and stayed until the very real fear faded. Slowly, painstakingly, the screaming faded, replaced by the deep, consistent hum of a crew that loved you, not for your smile, but for you, in all your true, complex colors. The path to healing was long, but you were no longer walking it alone.

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