#steam deck makes it worse

[forteania]

I have too many other games to be playing and yet I’m thinking of double-dipping by buying Stardew Valley on my Steam Deck cause of the 1.6 update.

[r-18g]

there's an hd remaster/texture pack for fate/extra ccc!

i've been using it since i found it yesterday, and god it looks so good on the steam deck…

it’s good. (*´꒳`*)

[fischtoria]

you have got to be kidding me

you cant tell me valve WASNT paid off to include these, red dead 2 has been basically abandoned by rockstar (last content update was in 2021 with a couple missions for the online mode, last update before that was in 2020)

[picorimori]

only Nier Replicant 1.22 on Nintendo Switch can cure me

[lovebugism]

“Remind me why I can’t kill the carolers?” with a grumpy scrooge eddie!! maybe he and reader move into a new neighborhood with friendly neighbors who go all out for christmas and are always caroling? i can’t imagine the people of hawkins showing up at his door lol

ty for requesting :D — the metalhead freak gets stuck with a bunch of carolers and runs to his girl for comfort (established relationship, fluff, eddie "loves being babied" munson, 1.2k)

blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Eddie moves to the nice side of Hawkins with you. Not the suburbs, exactly, but pretty damn close. 

It’s a house with stairs and a sliding back door, both of which only existed in movies for a kid who grew up in a trailer park. The backyard is fenced in, too — big enough for a dog. A couple of them, even. And maybe a pool if his music career takes off. The realtor also told you that the school district is “to die for,” and even though that’s not really an issue right now, Eddie figures it’ll be important sometime soon.

These are all things you’re supposed to care about when you’re settling down with someone you can see a future with. Eddie thinks so, at least. He can see himself getting old with you, in this house and on that front porch. He’ll be holding your hand on your afternoon walks until both of yours are spotted and wrinkly.

The only bad thing about life (halfway) in the suburbs is running into all the assholes he used to know in high school. Vicki Carmichael was walking her too-expensive dog yesterday morning, and the afternoon before that, Tina Burton had the whole cul-de-sac down the street shut down for her kid’s first birthday party. What the hell is a one-year-old even supposed to do with a bouncy house?

It’s totally trippy. 

But Eddie’s been able to avoid them well enough. Or maybe everyone else is avoiding him. Either way, he’s grateful.

“No— where are you going?” you whine as Eddie slides open the glass door of the shower. You’re still getting used to being able to do this with him now that you’ve moved into the new place. The bathroom back at the trailer was barely big enough for one person, let alone two.

“I’m already done, and you’ve barely even started,” he answers, laughing at the dramatic desperation in your voice. 

He steps onto the plush mat outside the tub and wraps a towel around his tattooed hips. Steam flows out, and the outside cold swoops in. It pricks your skin and makes you shiver. You duck under the faucet for warmth until he closes the door behind him.

“You’re gonna be in here forever, and I’m gonna get all pruney,” Eddie insists, right before shaking out his damp curls like a wet dog.

“You usually like it when I take my time,” you joke, laughing when it makes him silent.

Eddie’s brain gets all foggy at your words. Worse than the heavy steam filling up the bathroom. He’s contemplating whether or not to jump back into the shower with you — and really let you “take your time” — but a knock on the door throws a wrench in his plans.

“Can you get the door for me, honey?” you ask just to tease him, ‘cause you know he’s milliseconds away from pressing you against the shower wall.

He listens to you, because he always listens to you, and then ultimately decides he never will again.

Eddie leaves the warmth of the bathroom, shoves on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt that do little to protect him from the bitter cold outside, and finds a number of familiar faces standing on his porch. 

It’s an entire crowd of people who used to bully him in high school — plus a bunch of snotty private school kids — all dressed up in the most horrendous, white-bread Christmas outfits the world has ever seen.

“Oh, shit…” Eddie mumbles under his breath, the evidence of his words leaving in a thin white cloud. He hadn’t even meant to say them out loud. They just sorta spilled out in the moment. Honestly, he thinks he might be dreaming.

The town’s resident metalhead is forced to sit through a botched rendition of Deck the Halls and Holy Night. And since you’re still in the shower, you can’t even swoop in to save him from it all. He just suffers through the half-out-of-tune caroling while his drying hair frizzes, a wavering smile of confusion stagnant on his face. 

When they’re finally gone, Eddie shuts the door with a chest-deflating sigh. He isn’t totally sure he’s taken a single breath since he opened the damn thing.

“Who was that?” you call from the top of the stairs, a fuzzy towel clutched to your chest. The warm scent of your body wash flows from the opened bathroom door and down the steps.

Eddie turns to look up at you from the bottom of them. He feels so suddenly drained. Like he just ran a marathon or pulled an all-nighter — something utterly exhausting that’s taken a piece of his soul. Maybe it’s dramatic, but he feels a little like his suffering has stripped ten years off his life.

“Remind me again why we can’t kill the carolers?” he jokes as he trudges up the stairs, the railing of them lined with glowing garlands.

“Those were carolers?” you gape, eyes wide and brows raised to your hairline.

Answering the door isn’t really Eddie’s thing. Conversations with strangers at the door aren’t really his thing, either. You think he might’ve just lived through one of his greatest fears.

“Yeah,” he scoffs, laughing through an exhausted sigh. He walks to your shared bedroom and flops on the center of the bed. A heavy sigh falls from his lips like he just got done working a twelve-hour shift. 

You’d laugh at his dramatics if you thought they were anything but totally real. So instead, you sit gingerly beside him, careful to keep your towel from falling, and try to comfort him without giggling.

“Shit, babe. I’m sorry,” you mutter, rubbing a palm up and down the length of his back. You’re grateful he can’t see your smile from this angle, lest he think you aren’t taking this seriously.

“Oh, don’t be,” he tells you, muffled into his pillow. Sarcasm drips from his honeyed lips like venom. “It was tons of fun seeing Jason fucking Carver on our doorstep.”

“Jason was out there?” you gape, a little louder than you mean to. Your shock is palpable.

Eddie huffs and turns onto his back. “Yeah— did you know he has a kid now?”

“What?”

“Uh-huh,” he nods with a small smirk. The life returns to the chocolate of his eyes now that he can gossip. “She was a really cute baby, you know, considering. The odds weren’t really in her favor there.”

You tilt your cheek to your shoulder and cup his jaw with a warm hand. Your thumb rubs gently over the flushed apple of it, tinted cold from the outside weather. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to save you,” you tell him, half playful but with a sincere glimmer in your eye.

“No, it’s okay,” he says with a shake of his head. “I’m glad you weren’t there to see that.”

You can’t tell if Eddie knows you’re teasing him or not. Or if he’s joking about the whole thing ‘cause it’s over now. Your boy’s too hard to read for his own good. You decide to keep pitying him anyway. His love language is basically being babied.

“Want me to make you some hot chocolate?”

He nods, a small pout jutting out his rosy lips. “With the mini marshmallows, please?” he mumbles.

You bend at the waist to plant a kiss on his forehead. “Whatever you want, babe,” you promise in a gentle murmur.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

If you need ideas for the Temptation snapshots, I've got one. It's Scotty's wedding, Daniel's Kitten is a bridesmaid. She looks stunning in a curves complimenting dress. Daniel can't take his eyes off of her but she doesn't have time for him. She's running around, helping everybody with everything till Daniel decides he can't wait anymore and drags her to the bedroom for a quickie only after that they realise that they've fucked in the newlyweds bed

Temptation Snapshot || DR3 {6}

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut WC: 1.4K F1 Masterlist Story: One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven Snapshots: One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six

The Bachelor’s Party/Hen Night Vegas baby! That was the caption to the clip of Daniel arriving in Las Vegas for Scotty’s bachelor party - the two Australians 100 percent ready to unleash hell on Sin City with their close-knit group of friends. At just over 2000 kilometres away, you were boarding a private boat with Chloe in Vancouver as her hen night began far more sedately. While the next 24 hours with the bridal party was all about pampering and enjoying the beautiful views out on the water, the groomsmen were making promises to each other that what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.

Come morning light everyone would start making their way to Venice where the big event was going down - for better or for worse. You had a feeling the boys would certainly be feeling worse.

You were utterly relaxed after a massage and a soak in the hot tub on the top deck with the girls, the stars glittering in the night sky. Chloe’s friends were an endless stream of gossip and it was hard to keep up with their exciting lives until your phone started to vibrate on your sunbed. 

“Excuse me,” you apologised as you stepped out of the warm water and saw a facetime call coming in from Danny. “Hey, I thought you would be too busy to call?”

“You should come here, kitten,” he slurred as the camera moved erratically and you heard Scotty’s laugh in the background. “Look,” he tried to pan the video around and you guessed he was somewhere on the strip from all the bright lights. “White Chapel! We could get married right now.”

You tilted your head so you could properly see what he was showing you. “You want me to come to Las Vegas and get married at a White Chapel?” you laughed with a shake of your head. “You know my dad would never forgive you if he didn’t get to give me away.”

“I just want you all to myself, as Mrs Ricciardo,” he whined as the camera turned back to his face and a chorus of whipping sounds erupted from the guys around him. “Fuck off! You’re whipped too.”

“So you admit you’re whipped,” Scotty shouted happily and the call was dropped as they started a little scuffle, more like brothers than friends.

“You have that man wrapped around your finger,” Chloe teased when you slipped back into the steaming water.

“Look who's talking,” you said with a wink and grabbed your drink, raising it up to clink it with hers. “You mastered the art first.”

“I suppose I did,” she giggled before toasting with the circle. “To our boys, and their peak golden retriever energy.”

The Wedding Day “Behave,” you warned Daniel when he tried to corner you in the hotel’s corridor. “I’m a woman on a mission so keep your hands to yourself.”

“You know I can’t help it when my kitten gets all bossy,” he chuckled as he pinned you to the wall with his body. “No one will notice if we slip away for a few minutes.”

“Chloe would, since I’m meant to be getting her shoes.”

Reaching into his breast pocket he pulled out a tiny book similar to what you would get when you bought a raffle. Licking the pad of his thumb he started to flick through the pages before humming and ripping a tab out. “Here,” he said as he tucked it into your cleavage. “That is contractually binding too, I might add.”

You fished the paper out and opened it to see it was a comical voucher for a quickie in the nearest room. “I’m sure my lawyer would agree with you,” you joked as you straightened his lapels. “Where did you even get this?”

“I may or may not have stolen it from Scotty’s presents, but I thought it would have been a waste to go to them. I know him and it would end up in the bin before they even went on their honeymoon. So?” His eyes darted to the door beside you and he wiggled his eyebrows. “You look ridiculously sexy in that dress, kitten, and it is doing all sorts of crazy things to me.”

“Well I would hate to get in trouble with the law, since this is contractually binding…”

His smile grew and he tested the door only to growl when it didn’t open, but the next one was left unlocked. “Better make it quick, baby, I have no idea who this room belongs to.”

The spike of adrenaline made you rush to lift your dress and Daniel’s belt snapped open as he shoved his trouser halfway down his tattooed thighs before pulling you onto his lap at the edge of the bed. Your bodies joined with a harmonious moan and you relished the full feeling when you hadn’t been prepared for him, something that rarely happened.

“Fuck, you feel so good, kitten,” he moaned, his hand reaching for your hair before you grabbed it.

“This took two hours, don’t mess it up.”

“Okay, okay,” he obeyed, settling his hands on your hips and using his strength to guide you up and down his cock. You didn’t have the same issue with his hair, the short curls still left untamed, so you dragged your fingers through them as you bounced on his lap.

“You look tired,” you commented before you lost all ability to think, noticing the dark bags under his brown eyes. “Did you conquer Vegas or did Vegas conquer you?”

A smirk played on his lips and he shook his head. “Sorry, kitten, the boys all made a promise. Scouts honour.”

Your head tilted to the side as you stopped riding him. “Is that how it is now?”

“Don’t stop, baby,” he begged as you started to climb off his lap. “Wait, wait, okay.”

“What happened in Vegas, Daniel?” you asked, neither pulling away nor lowering yourself back down him.

“Nothing like you’re thinking,” he muttered.

“Daniel…”

“I may have gotten a little bit shitfaced,” he admitted and you lifted an eyebrow that made him crumble. His head dropped into your cleavage as he confessed, “I was totally off my tit drunk and so was Scotty, and we may have crashed out on the same bed.”

You slipped back down his cock until you were saddled on his lap again. “That’s not bad, why were you trying to hide it?”

“Those assholes took photos of us cuddling and crying together because we missed out girls now can you please move before I start crying again.”

It was a quick jumble of words barely more than a whisper but you caught them, just, and they caught you off guard. In a split second your head was thrown back with a laugh and you cradled him to your chest.

“Fuck me, keep laughing, kitten,” Daniel moaned. “So fucking tight when you do that.”

It drove Daniel wild and he started bucking his hips as you rode him, hitting deeper with each change in the angle until your eyes screwed shut and your heart hammered. You wanted to kiss him like your life depended on it but the makeup hadn’t been set long enough and you weren’t willing to risk smearing the masterpiece.

“I’m gonna cum, daddy,” you whimpered as heat flushed your skin and you pushed through the ache in your legs from the position. Your orgasm ripped through you like a bolt of lightning.

“Fuck, oh fuck, fuuuuck,” Daniel groaned as your cunt gripped his dick like a vice and he filled you with the thick ropes of his cum. “Shit, kitten, you’re gonna kill me with that pretty pussy of yours,” he commented as you climbed off and rearranged your dress into place.

“I think you just need more self-control,” you teased as you looked around the room and froze. There on the table was the white Jimmy Choo box you had been sent to find, next to a plate of delicate handmade chocolates and a neatly written card dedicated to the newlyweds. “Oh shit.”

Daniel looked up from his belt he had rebuckled and saw you grab the shoes from the box, his eyes taking in everything as he came to the same conclusion. “Oh shit,” he laughed, biting his knuckle as the sound grew. He looked back at the bed and quickly swiped a hand across the blankets to smooth out the indents of his ass. “That bed is getting some action today.”

Taglist {1}: @moonvr @copper-boom @yunnie-f1 @ophcelia @lightsoutletsgo @alwaysclassyeagle @neiich @omgsuperstarg @starwarssavy23 @fdl305 @faeb1tch42069 @sweetestrose569 @pleasantducktimetravel @dr3lover @writerscurse @christianpulisic10 @alexisquinnlee-bc @purplephantomwolf @belennasif @ryiamarie @mickslover @tyna-19 @destourtereaux @sunf1ower16 @octaviareina @laneyspaulding19 @booknerd2004-blog @mimimarvelingmarvel @chonkybonky @jpg3 @bangtanxberm @ohthemisssery @eviethetheatrefreak @kimi240302 @andydrysdalerogers @formula1mount @storyteller-le @dakotali @daddyslittlevillain @elijahslover

[citrinae]

aphrodite.

sanji x reader

contents; self-indulgent fluff where you doubt your role at the sunny. he helps you wind up by preparing a bath. sprinkled with some explicit content here n there, worship, established relationships, mythology references, afab!reader, 1k. be gentle fam i'm rusty n down bad for this fool.

The muscles around your shoulders grow taut as you lower yourself into the tub, lukewarm water reaching just below your chest.  Steam climbs up in ribbons and rolls in droplets off your forehead, off white tiles, off the fogged mirror that lingers at the grasp of your wingspan. Usually, it’s no news that it takes you longer than most to loosen up, but there’s been something about this day that rendered you specifically heavy. 

Heavier. 

Sanji’s arms wrap themselves around you, fingers pressing into skin with an eerie gentleness, and you expect your body to tighten even more at the touch, but it doesn’t.

“There,” he rests his chin between your shoulder and neck. “doesn’t this make you feel better, sweetheart?”

(It was him who came up with this, naturally. 

After finding you slumped across some barrel by the docks, he deliberated that a meal alone wouldn't be enough to put you back on your feet. Exhaustion was swirling and defocusing your vision, “Maybe this life isn’t for me.” And who could've blamed you for it? You owned feet that weren’t made for running. Fists that couldn’t break through anything. Worse still, a mind that failed any attempt to deceive. You weren’t sure what it was exactly that interlaced your fate with that of the Straw Hats’. So when their captain had offered you his earnest smile and a place on his ship, you couldn’t help but look back with a raised eyebrow. “This has to be a mistake. You must be joking.”

Right?

And now, as the hissing sound of lighter snapped you back to reality, you remembered part of why you were still willing to try. 

Sanji exhaled through the mouth. “It wounds me to know you like this, dearest,” he said, his eyes shut. “Is there anything I could do to see the sun cast its light upon your lips once more?” 

Your gaze rolled to the side, but there was no hostility there, no strained tone asking to be left alone. He eventually made up his mind by informing that something shall wait for you at the inn the crew voted to rest at for the night. You let him place a peck on your forehead, watched him back to his chores while humming a tune he knew you’d enjoy.) 

A blue blossom floats by your left knee; you fix it absently as you drag your legs closer to your chest. “Maybe, a little,” you admit, leaning your head against his. He smells of nicotine and peach shampoo. 

“I’m glad,” he tells you. It comes out in a prolonged sound that feels like relief. He needs you unscathed like a priest servicing their temple. “Aphrodite,” you remember him confessing, once, as you lounged together on the white-hot flooring of the deck. “Gods carved your face from the foam of the sea and blessed me with the touch of your gaze.” 

(But that was at the beginning of everything. Back when his intentions towards you were uncertain and you knew better than looking too deeply into speeches he pathetically coaxed every woman with. He could be like that, you know—hospitable when no one asks for it. The Moirai, all three, could come aboard swaying their hips in his direction and he’d send them home with a box of chocolates and a piece of poetry each. 

Sanji’s ovations were not sentiments; they were habits.

Yet after weeks of hovering in your proximity, you could tell that, unlike the others, you were cherished in silence—as if you were a shrine to be visited by him and him alone, un chef-d'œuvre, “j'peux pas détacher mes yeux de toi.” 

Then you began to shamelessly spend time in the kitchen, and you enjoyed watching his elbows move above the cutting board, chains shifting across his hips as he stretched to grab a jar of something from the upper shelves. Sanji began, in turn, to wait for you with morning notes attached to cupcake liners and picks of your favourite teas steaming from the stove, his shirt loose with one more button unfastened and spices reorganised near the counter you usually sat on. Before you noticed, each segment in his kitchen would be placed to harmonise with you.

And at lunch you would instinctively search for his gaze, only to notice he was already memorising you down to each curve, pore, line on your face. You’d find yourself pinning it on clumsiness when, under tables, the tip of your shoe brushed his ankle ever so slightly. 

How often did you try to convince yourself he looked at you the same way he looked at any other. Because you were. Like any other.

Soon the same ovations would fall like honey from the tip of his tongue as he pressed you against the wall of the storage room, mouthing thanks for stretching your folds so well around his fingers and for the expectant look in your eye as his touch was searing the skin under your shirt. His breath would catch by your breast when he heard your voice cry out so delightfully sweet for him. And you would have him, kissing your tights, devouring your slit like prayer; because why wouldn’t you? 

How could you deny you this, when he was making you feel like you were the only living being in the Universe?)

“Sanji,” you start, unsure how to continue from here, urging him to turn his head at the sound of his name. “Thank you. I—” lifting your hands over his. “I really needed this.”

Silence; Sanji takes it graciously as he reaches for the sponge across from you and soaks it in the water. 

“I understand if you don't want to talk about today,” he says, softly caressing your back. “But please know I’m here, always, if you ever need an ear to listen.” 

“Heard and heeded.” A smile sprouts at the corner of your lips. “But for now, just stay with me,” and it takes you a minute to get to the last part. “Please.”

And this isn’t something he would admit out loud; maybe just in the dimness of your bedroom dazed with your legs pressing around him. But he yearns to feel needed just as much as you need to acknowledge your worth. 

“Darling,” Sanji stops the sponging to leave a small kiss on your shoulder. “I can’t recall when that was ever a struggle for me.”

[helios-writings]

Headaches

Roronoa Zoro x Sanji x gn! Reader

wc: 1.3k

warnings: none

Sanji and Zoro have been fighting a lot more lately, and you’re determined to find out why

You were tired of stopping fights. It seemed almost every day at this point that it was happening, you wake up, Sanji and Zoro are bickering. You make port, they’re fighting. Even Chopper was getting tired of patching up their bruises.

You knew they bickered, you saw it from the very beginning, but you have no idea what could’ve made it worse. So far, it’s been a normal day on the Sunny, heat bearing down and the ocean carrying a cool breeze, one that leads you to a small town.

It’s as you’ve gathered your things that you hear a loud crash from up on deck, and you rush upstairs, fearing the worst. But when you reach the top, it’s Zoro and Sanji again, the former having shoved the cook so roughly into the taffrail that it’s broken.

Franky and Usopp both let a bewildered cry, but you? You’re steaming. A scuffle here and there is one thing, but this has gotten out of hand.

You storm up to them, pulling them apart with the help of Robin before practically getting in both of their faces. “What the actual fuc- no, you know what, let’s go somewhere else.”

You drag the two men below deck by their arms, not struggling to break free even though they could. You shove them both down onto two separate chairs.

“What the actual fuck has been wrong with you two? I know you bicker, but this is out of hand!”

They - well, Sanji, - look sheepish, but stay silent. You look at them both and then the nearby window. Luffy won’t even notice if one of them goes overboard, right?

The swordsman cracks under the weight of your glare. “Fuck, alright. Tell her, Curly.”

The chef gawks. “Me? What about you?!”

“It was your idea!”

“The hell it was!”

You pinch your nose bridge. “One of you just spit it out. Now.”

They explain the situation, leaving you wide eyed and jaw open by the time they’re done.

“You just decided to fight over who gets to go out with me?! You didn’t even ask me!”

“We thought-“

“Well, please never think again if that’s the kind of ideas you two are going to come up with.”

“We’re sorry.” Sanji tells you, elbowing his partner in crime in the side.

“Yeah, sorry.”

You know that Zoro is just annoyed, so you don’t take his half assed apology to heart. You do level with them, however.

“You’re both insane if you think I’m dating either one of you after this.”

Both of their eyes widen. “But-“

“I’m serious. What would you have done if one of you had won and I didn’t even like you? You didn’t make any efforts to win my affection, you didn’t take my feelings into account at all. The only thing either of you gave me was a headache.”

“Well, then tell us how we win you over.” Zoro says, a fierce look in his eye.

“Oh, so you don’t even know how, okay.”

“I’m serious. He’s serious. Tell us what to do.”

You sigh. Knowing Zoro, you know he’s not likely to do anything halfway, and Sanji is sure to do the same. Headaches, the two of them.

“Well, for starters, no one likes breaking up fights everyday and hauling you to the doctor. So start there, start trying to get along.” You think, oh there’s no way they go along with this.

But the two men just sigh with sad acceptance. “Alright. What’s next?”

You truly don’t know what to say, you didn’t think you’d get this far with them. “Being helpful would be nice. Uh, I hear people like gifts.”

“Don’t tell us what other people want,” urges Sanji, “tell us what you want.”

You groan. “I don’t know, okay? I’ve been on the sea with you two for years, so I don’t have a lot of people trying to woo me. Just….I don’t know, be nice to me or something. Talk to me. Make an effort to actually get to know me.”

They both nod and you dismiss them from their seats. After Sanji leaves, Zoro turns to you.

“Hey. We really are sorry about what went down.”

You just nod. “I know.”

***

There really is a change in the air over the next few weeks. The fighting between the two isn’t gone, but there’s less of it. Sanji asks for your help in the kitchen and Zoro often asks if you want to spar with him. When you go into town, one or both of them follow you, bickering over who gets to carry what. It really is sweet to see, and it does flatter you. You’re almost surprised at how much you like being around them.

“Hey, come look at this!” Sanji calls over to you, Zoro already standing close beside him.

You walk up to the little stall. “What's up?”

The chef grins, holding up a few bracelets to you. “Which one do you want? Fair warning, Mosshead wants the black one even if he says he doesn’t.”

Zoro lets out a protest, but you can tell he doesn’t mean it. You settle on a green and yellow one that looks pretty enough, the elaborate braids combining the colors in a way that you enjoy. That leaves Sanji with a black and blue one.

Sanji ties the bracelet around your wrist, his deft fingers making quick work of it. “There. Nice, right?”

You nod, feeling your face get warm. “Do you need help with yours?”

“I’ve got it, but between you and I, Zoro might need help with his.”

You shoot him a puzzled look, but walk over to the swordsman, who is indeed struggling to fasten the small bracelet.

You laugh quietly and take the bracelet from him, he then hands you his wrist. His skin is warm to the touch in your hand, this close you can see the calluses and scars from the many years of sword fighting. You fasten the bracelet for him.

“There. Now we all match.” You tell them.

They both turn red.

***

That night, as you venture into the kitchen after everyone’s asleep, you stumble upon quite a scene. Sanji is pressed against the counter, Zoro against him, pressing kisses into his neck and hair.

You gasp in surprise and they turn, mortified and jump apart.

You go to walk away but Sanji practically leaps across the room to stop you.

“W-wait! Let us explain.”

You still and let Zoro guide you to a chair. Sanji slides a cup of warm tea over to you before they both sit in a chair.

“We do like you.” The chef supplies before you can say anything.

“But, spending time with you and getting our own shit together….well. Curly’s insatiable.” Zoro has a smug grin on his face, which makes Sanji smack him.

Your head, however, is spinning. “Wait. Explain one more time.”

“We,” Sanji starts, gesturing between the two of them, “want to date you. Together.”

“How….how would that even work?”

“I don’t know,” Zoro answers, “but I want to try.”

You nod. “Okay.”

Sanji grins before leaning forward, only stopping when you nod. He kisses you softly, it makes warmth blossom from your chest and you smile into it.

“Okay Curly, my turn.”

The chef rolls his eyes but pulls away, kissing Zoro briefly before the other man does the same to you.

Zoro’s kiss is different. Where Sanji was soft, his was almost desperate, lips pressing fervently against yours. Sanji laughs softly in the background.

“You’re going to suffocate them if you keep that up.”

Zoro flips him off, but lets you go almost reluctantly.

Your head is spinning, but you smile. “Well, you two can get along.”

“It’s hard work, but it paid off I suppose.”

You took their hands in each of your own. “I think this’ll work out.”

They grin back at you. “I think so too.”

[the-golden-vanity]

Is there anything that’s stood out to you as different or unexpected the first time you went sailing? Especially if you’ve ever spent long trips out at sea. I’m writing a seafaring character and I’d love to hear any firsthand experience about it 👀✨

Hello, shipmate!

Firstly, I'm honored to be asked such a question. I'm far from an expert, but I suppose crewing a tall ship on the open ocean is an experience few are lucky enough to share in this day and age.

I signed on to the Pride of Baltimore II for a voyage up the coast with the idea that after reading so many books about pirates, whalers, explorers, and other seafarers, and after watching so many movies and TV series set during the Age of Sail, the only way I could feel truly complete was by experiencing the Age of Sail firsthand. I think I told more than one person on Boat Tumblr that this would either fix me or it would make me worse.

...I'd like you to guess which one happened.

Much of what I encountered on the ship was familiar to me from history and fiction. However, what reading and watching movies can never quite capture are the physical sensations. Here are a few:

The ship makes noise. All the time. It's very rhythmic and predictable, and it is constant. Timbers creak, ropes strain; if the wind is variable or unfavorable, the sails flap loudly. Some of my fellow guest crew were bothered by this, but I loved it. At the end of a watch, especially one where a lot of work needed doing, the rhythmic noises and the rocking motion of the ship were just what I needed to fall asleep for the next seven hours, or until I was called up for standby. I understand now what it means to be "rocked in the cradle of the deep."

If your vessel is well-ventilated, your vessel is sinking! When you are belowdecks, you are essentially in a wooden box. If it's warm on deck, it is oppressively hot and stuffy below, and although my berth had a door, I kept it open most of the time to catch what little breeze came through the main hatchway. The temperature cooled down as we sailed north, and was eventually pretty decent, except when the auxiliary engines were on. I can only imagine in the 19th and early 20th centuries, with steam-powered auxiliary engines, it would have been even hotter!

No one knows what day it is on board. Everyone's on watch on a "4 hours on—4 hours off—4 hours standby" schedule, so you're on duty for 8 hours total, split between opposite sides of the 24-hour day, so "days" don't really have much meaning. This would probably also explain why I saw several of my shipmates wearing an outfit multiple days in a row–it just didn't occur to them that it was a different day.

Before you get your sea legs, you will spend a lot of time stumbling around, falling on your ass, holding onto things for dear life. This, I think, is pretty common knowledge. What I don't think is common knowledge is the fact that once you get your sea legs, land feels like it's moving under your feet. While you're fully awake, it goes away pretty quickly. However, I was waking up for days afterward—like, 4 or 5 days afterwards—convinced that my room was rocking like a ship. Deeply strange, but absolutely worth it, since it meant I had been at sea.

That's what I can think of right now! Let me know if you have any other questions, I'm always happy to answer them.

[muddyorbsblr]

the right partner

See my full list of works here!

Summary: You had no intentions of joining Stark's party, considering that your ex had just dumped you two days ago and he was already announcing his new relationship. And then along came Loki, offering to be your date for the night…

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: language (yeah no, not sorry, Rogers); little bit of steam at the end; reader w/ insecurities [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: Steve is the ex; Nat & Wanda offering violence to avenge their bestie; borderline dangerous dancing stunts (don't try this at home, kids); coworkers/teammates to lovers

"Babes, stop fussing over the dress. You look hot. It's giving revenge dress if I do say so myself. Everyone covering the event will take one look at you and see without a doubt in their mind that you won this break up. Especially considering how hot your dates are."

Natasha nudged your shoulder playfully, probably in hopes of wiping the scowl off of the reflection staring back at you as you adjusted the strap of your midnight blue mermaid dress, making sure everything was secure and no unflattering angles were even remotely feasible.

Then again you could barely walk properly in the damn thing, so there really wasn't much room for awkward and unflattering, considering that you'd be able to do little more than stand and pose. You'd wanted to trade in the dress for something that gave you a bit more breathing room considering that the man that chose -- well, he'd argue strongly encouraged -- the dress was no longer your date for the night, but your choices would be stiflingly limited with how close you'd have been cutting it if you'd returned it.

Two days to break up, pack up, move your things out of his apartment in the compound, move back into your own apartment, clean up said apartment to make it at least livable once again, cry a bit, and then ready yourself for this charity ball? There wasn't time to return the dress that Steve chose, let alone pick out a new one. Even with the help of both Nat and Wanda.

"Remind me to thank Bucky and Vision for letting me steal you two away tonight?"

"Don't even worry about it. But maybe you could talk to Bucky later and tell him that there isn't even a shred of this that's his fault? He somehow got it into his head that because Steve's his best friend he should have sensed something. Should've told me. Or directly told you. He's been feeling like shit over this whole thing since I came home two days ago and told him I had to help you clean out your stuff from Rogers' apartment and move back into your old one."

Just as you were about to reassure the Russian spy that you would talk to her husband the second you got the chance to when there were no nosy reporters lurking around corners or planting microphones around the event to capture their next juicy story, Wanda walked into the room, her expression colored with a mix of pity and irritation.

"Well he might feel a hell of a lot worse now that he's seeing in real time what his best buddy's been doing since the breakup." Nausea began to swirl in your stomach as they each took one of your hands and the sorceress led you to the conference hall that had been fully decked out for tonight's event. The crowd had gathered around the dance floor, phones out and whispering amongst one another as they looked on the couple in the center.

"Oh you've got to be fucking shitting me," Nat bellowed in outrage, her hand leaving yours and wrapping around your waist to ensure you were still standing straight. "You even asked him point blank about her and he brushed you off--"

"Don't worry about her, Cookie, I'm just making sure she has the best training available to her," you seethed, feeling yourself shaking in your friend's hold as you repeated Steve's words to you just last week. "Babes, I don't think I even wanna go in there. I can already see the fucking headlines. Heartbroken Avenger Y/N Y/L/N seeks the comfort of her girlfriends' company as former lover Captain America debuts his new relationship with SHIELD Agent Ava WhatsHerFace. This isn't worth it. You two go. Be with your husbands. I'm going home."

"Are you sure?" Wanda squeezed your other hand, her free arm already radiating her signature red magic. "I can trip her and make them fall flat on their asses, just say the word."

It took you a great deal to not take her up on her offer, instead opting to just squeeze her hand back before letting go, maneuvering yourself out of their hold. "I'm sure. No tripping anybody, you two. Last thing we need is the internet speculating on which sides the Avengers are taking in what they're gonna try and spin as the breakup that shocked the world, and then making these idiotic theories about how we might cause a reiteration of Germany right here in the Big Apple."

"Okay what if I just poisoned her drink no one would know it was me--"

"Babes, everyone would know it was you," you cut off the spy. "No poison. No tripping. Not even a backhanded compliment. If you really can't stand the sight of her then walk away. Otherwise Pepper will kill us over making a scene over this and I'm not even joining the damn party but she'll drag me in anyway because she's gonna figure out that you two did what you did because of me."

"You're a better woman than that little shit ever deserved," Wanda grumbled, pulling you into a quick embrace. "We'll see you after the party then? Because no way in hell are you sleeping alone tonight."

"After," you confirmed, already walking away from the two as they walked toward the bar to where Bucky and Vision were undoubtedly standing and waiting patiently for them.

You'd walked down a good few feet down the hall when a voice halted you.

"Y/N?" You inwardly groaned at the sound of Loki calling out to you. The absolute last thing you needed was the member of the team who was undoubtedly and objectively the most unfairly breathtakingly beautiful person in all of New York -- hell, in all of the world as far as you were concerned -- seeing you in the dejected state you were in.

You did your best to plaster on a half-smile as you turned to face the god. "Hey, Mischief." You threw him a cursory glance, your heart skipping a good few beats when you registered his bespoke Burnham green tuxedo forming to his sculpted body like a well-worn leather glove. "You look great."

"You're breathtaking," he sighed, walking the rest of the distance and stopping a few steps in front of you. "As you always are." He gave you a curt smile, his fingers visibly twitching in your direction as he kept his hands to his sides. "Are you not joining the gala?"

"Thinking I might sit this one out, actually," you murmured, grimacing at just how miserable you sounded to your own ears. "Considering it doing Pepper a solid and making sure that tonight's all about whatever cause Stark decided to back this time around and not about the untimely demise of me and Rogers. The last thing we need is me becoming the center of attention because the media published headlines calling me the Heartbroken Avenger because I walked in there with my friends while my ex debuts his shiny new toy." You took an awkward step back, giving him an even more inelegant wave his way. "You have fun, though, Mischief."

He took your hand in his as you were turning away from him. "What if I escorted you?" Something with his soft spoken tone, partnered with the way his thumb was stroking the back of your hand, had you struggling to take your next breath. "We could walk in together, and it wouldn't cross anybody's mind to call you heartbroken or lonely or anything of the sort."

You couldn't help but scoff at his offer. "I'm not sure you wanna take on the media vultures who'll write about you getting Captain America's sloppy seconds. Hell, if I walk in there with you they'll think you probably did it out of pity. People already paint me as someone they don't think could have pulled the likes of Steve, but if we walk in there together you'll never hear the end of how charitable you were to--"

"Stop that," he cut you off, his tone sibilant and terse as if he was slicing through your self-pity party for one. "Rogers is an imbecile, he always has been. To have held painite in his uncouth hands and traded it in for mere rubble." He took a step closer to you, making you struggle to hide the shudder than ran through you when you could practically feel the warmth of his body radiating from him. "To walk into that room with you would not be an act of charity, darling. It would be an honor. A privilege."

"Okay come on that's enough--"

"How I wish you could see yourself the way I do," he murmured, his free hand lightly grasping your chin and making it impossible to turn your gaze from him. "Come with me. We'll share a dance and afterward if you still wish to leave then we will."

"Are you insane?" you blurted out, shaking your head at how absurd his offer was. "If you walk in with me and you leave with me, you're gonna find out real quick that people actually can hate me more than they did when I was dating Steve, because now I'm preventing you from getting all the pretty girls' numbers in the party. There are supermodels in there, Mischief. Pretty sure there're some princesses, too. They came here for you."

"Then they will leave disappointed," he answered back, the corner of his mouth pulling in a smirk as he watched your brows knit together in clear confusion. "As for attaining the contact information of, how did you phrase it again? Pretty girls? I already have that of the most beguiling woman who would be in that gala, I truly need no more." He let go of your hand to reach for his phone and tap away at it to call whoever he was referring to.

A few seconds later your little purse began to ring, making you give him a pointed stare. "Smooth." Your phone stopped ringing as soon as he put his away, finding yourself fighting to breathe properly once more when he placed his hand back in yours. "Fine," you huffed. "But we're not dancing, I can barely walk in this stupid thing, the dance floor would turn into a crime scene if I so much as spun wrong."

The soft chuckle that escaped his lips filled you with a weird sense of pride, knowing that even for a few short moment the usually terse god felt comfortable enough around you to seem so unguarded. He released his hold on you to hover his hands by your waist. "May I?"

You took a moment to try figuring out what he meant before answering, "I don't know what you're asking for but alright. I trust you."

His playful demeanor faltered for a moment, eyebrows knitting together and raising slightly before he placed his hands on your waist and gently guiding you to turn and facing the mirrored wall. Your breath hitched in your throat with a squeak as his gaze met yours on the reflection, bringing his face level to yours, his lips hovering just beside your ear. "Beautiful as you are in this dress, darling, you look as if you'd been forced to conform into something you're not. You were made to move freely, as gracefully and as fluidly as you move in the field."

You held your breath as you watched his magic washing over you, your dress melting away from the shoulders down and slowly being replaced with a dark emerald silk gown that stopped just below your ankles, the skirt flaring out from the waist with a slit going up to the middle of your thigh. The feel of your hair cascading down your back had you realizing that you were so caught up in the spectacle of your dress changing before your very eyes that you'd barely felt his fingers deftly taking the pins out of your hair and undoing the tightly knotted bun that borderline violently pulled at your temples.

"Hmmm…much better." You fought against the chill that ran throughout your body at the low tone of his voice reverberating in your ear. "Just one more…tiny flourish." His hand moved from your hair to rest his fingers lightly on the juncture between your neck and shoulder, a slight smile appearing on his face in the reflection when your breathing became audibly staggered as a teardrop emerald pendant hanging off a gold chain materialized around your neck. "Himmelske," he breathed out, the vision of him lightly pressing his lips to the top of your head making your pulse pound in your ears. "Shall we?"

"This is too much…" you sighed, turning around to face him and nearly stumbling over your own feet when you saw how close your faces were to one another.  "I can't possibly--"

"You can, darling." He took your hand in his again and brought it up towards his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles, all the while his eyes never leaving yours. "You look ethereal, like a goddess walking among mortals." He pressed his lips to your knuckles once more. "Min gudinne." He began to walk backwards towards the party, keeping your hands intertwined as he led you down the hall, typing something away a quick message on his phone as the music from the repurposed conference hall gradually grew louder.

Once you were mere feet away from the doors leading to the conference hall, the old-fashioned music that made you want to retch on the spot screeched to a halt, and Tony's voice boomed through the speakers.

"Alright Cap that's enough, some of us actually don't want to see our dinner a second time tonight." The crowd began to chuckle at his joking barbs toward your ex. "Why don't you and your new babydoll take a breather for a minute. Or a hundred. While I go ahead and play on a special request for…well I'll be damned…Reindeer Games."

The sound of Tony's little nickname for Loki had you growing frigid in the god's hold. "Mischief, what did you do?"

Your question went unanswered, him opting to give you a soft smile as he lifted your joint hands up to place a tender kiss to the back of your hand before leading you to the center of the dance floor, the sound of your friends' claps and cheers -- as well as a round of hearty hollers from both Bucky and Thor -- filling the room and overpowering the piano intro of "Tightrope" by Sara Bareilles playing over the speakers as soon as you came into view.

Glares tinged with thinly veiled envious rage weighed down on you like cinder blocks as the raven-haired Asgardian placed his hand on your lower back, bringing your bodies within mere inches of one another. "Everyone's staring," you wavered, trying to keep your breathing even as he began to lead you in a basic waltz around the dance floor.

"Envious, petulant mortals," he answered with a sneer, giving you a small smirk at the end. "Likely because I have the most beautiful date among them all."

"Do gods wear glasses?" you bit back, scoffing softly at his words. "Because I'm pretty sure Adriana Lima is here and--"

"I can see quite clearly, precious mortal," he cut you off, the gentle tone of his voice not once wavering. "Better than you think." He upped the pace of your steps, the smile on his face growing wider as your steps became less structured and he raised your joint hands to spin you on the spot, your dress twirling fluidly with each step before he pulled you back to him, now chest to chest as he resumed leading you in a large circle around the floor. "You seem surprised, darling."

"I usually would have stepped on your toes by now," you whispered, your breath hitching as every step you took together felt perfectly synced, a part of you heavily dreading stumbling and sending you both into a clumsy heap on the floor. Especially with the even closer proximity of your bodies to one another. "Are you doing this?" He answered you with a slight furrow of his eyebrows. "Did you enchant the dress? The necklace? My shoes?"

"I did nothing of the sort, dear Y/N," he whispered into your ear, the feel of his breath on your skin sending your heart into overdrive. "Perhaps you'd simply been with the wrong partners all your life." You faintly registered the way his hold on you tightened the slightest bit. "I wish to prove it to you. A little flourish both for our benefit and for the entertainment of our audience."

A sequence of movements was projected into your mind, each motion requiring complete trust in your partner as you climbed over his back, held up only by your joint hands and your knee braced on his shoulder as he spun on the spot. And then capped off with a dismount that had you hanging upside down and suspended as such for a few moments before righting yourself on your feet.

"Do you trust me, darling?"

You didn't need to think twice about your answer. "Yes." He flashed a brilliant smile before twirling you away and out of his hold, turning his back to you and giving you a silent signal to execute the move. Within a few short moments you were propped up on his shoulder, held up by your joint hands and feeling as if you were flying as he executed each turn with visible ease.

The faces of the crowd, a mixture of pure shock and awe, said it all. No one on the team had ever placed that much trust in Loki, despite the countless times he'd undoubtedly saved any and all of you throughout your numerous missions together. And here you were giving everyone a blatant display that among all the members of the team, you probably trusted him the most.

There wasn't even the slightest tremble in your movement as you executed the dismount, briefly giving them all a face-splitting grin that nearly mirrored the blond Asgardian watching from the bar as he looked on at the spectacle you and his brother had created before turning back and facing your partner. The next moment he'd gone back to holding you and twirling you both around the dance floor with a slight flourish as you reunited.

"There you are, precious mortal," he breathed out, securing his arm around your waist and lifting you off your feet as he spun you both again, the skirt of your dress billowing from the motion and creating a perfect flourish to your steps, earning you various oohs and aahs from the audience. You assumed that the bitter hmph sounds came from your ex and Miss Ava WhatsHerFace. "I've missed seeing that smile on you. It's been months too long. How I wanted to strike at Rogers' face the moment I saw the light in you wavering."

"You saw that?" You prided yourself in concealing your insecurities and the downward spiral that your mind had taken the moment that the new recruit had been assigned to train for the Avengers, painting on a bright disposition despite the interest that Steve had taken in her and the rapidly dwindling attention he paid to you in turn.

It never occurred to you that people might be looking closer than you intended them to. Or that one of those people would be someone you'd carried feelings for ever since long before you and Rogers ever even went out on the first date. You kept on guilting yourself that you were no better than him, if you were being completely honest.

The only leg up you had over your ex was that at least you did right by him and you never acted on anything. But then again you had no reason to believe that you could; in your eyes, Loki had to reason to see you, let alone return your sentiment.

"I see you, Y/N," he murmured, bringing his hand higher up your back, leaning forward, and tilting you backward in a low dip. "I've always seen you." Your heart caught in your throat as you felt him press a soft kiss to your cheek before bringing you both back up to stand upright, a new sequence of movements projected into your mind.

This time of him lifting you into the air, a hand braced on your lower back, the other wrapped around your ankle, followed by a drop that would land you safely in his arms and have the god carrying you bridal style. You could see the silent question shining in his eyes as the projected image fizzled away, awaiting your answer. "I trust you," you whispered, taking a breath as he turned you to face away from him and lifted you into the air with ease.

There wasn't a single doubt in your mind even in that split second where you were falling through the air. You knew you were safe with him. Physically at least.

Emotionally it felt like he was leading you to the edge of a cliff, and you were all too happy to step off if it meant he'd look at you even remotely like he did throughout any point of tonight.

You landed in his arms with a soft, nearly soundless thud, once again met with appreciative applause from the room of onlookers and Tony's voice once again sounding through the speakers. "Jellybean, I take back every joke I ever made about your dancing. Now I know it wasn't you that made those moves bad and that's all I'm gonna say on that. Give it up for these two one more time, ladies and gentlemen!"

A traitorous squeak from the back of your throat slipped from your lips as the god carrying you briefly touched the tip of his nose to yours and pressed a kiss between your brows before setting you back down on your feet, taking your hand in his and lacing his fingers between yours. He led you through the dance floor that was quickly becoming crowded as a rhythmic thumping beat boomed from the sound system, placing you directly in front of him with his free arm wrapped around your midsection.

Once you'd reached the bar, crossing paths with Nat and Wanda and their respective husbands as they made their way to the dance floor, only Thor remained to greet you as you occupied two seats next to one another. "Brother, elation becomes you." Before he walked toward the buffet, handing his empty plate to one of the cleaning staff, he turned to face you. "Take care of him. Actually, take care of each other."

Your brows knitted together as you watched the blond Asgardian walk away, confusion niggling away at your brain as you turned your gaze back to Loki. "What was that--"

The rest of your sentence died on the tip of your tongue as the raven-haired god cupped your jaw, weaving his fingers through your hair, as he closed the distance between you and captured your lips in a soft kiss. You whimpered against him as he stood from his seat, framing your face with his hands as he stepped closer to you, all the while his lips never leaving yours.

He breathed your name as he pulled away, the way that he seemingly sounded almost as flustered as you were paired with the restraint so evident in his hold on you creating a heady combination that made the room spin. "He never deserved you."

Those words had your eyes snapping open, wondering if you'd heard him right. "Loki what--"

"And you should have had someone that treasured you. Worshipped you. That knew with every fiber of his being that he was the most fortunate bastard in the Nine for being the one that you shared the most intimate parts of your life with." Your heart thundered in your ears as he leaned in to kiss you again. "Someone that would proudly show whoever was around to watch that he is equally yours as you are his. Perhaps even more so."

"Are you trying to tell me that that someone is you?" The music had faded away to nothing more than a dull thumping in the background as you looked into his eyes, rife with emotions that you couldn't quite place as his hands traveled down to wrap around your waist, stepping closer to you, and leaning in to press a soft kiss to your temple.

"If you would let me," he murmured against your skin. "He was but a fool to have let you go. But if his foolishness leads to my fortune, then perhaps I could be moved to despise him a little less." He kissed a trail from your temple to your ear, making your breath hitch again as his thumb stroked at your side and tracing the faint lines of your ribcage while he whispered a deliciously tempting offer. "Leave with me. Let me be the fortunate wretch that gets to take you home. That gets to worship you, to pleasure you. Even if only for tonight, let me make you equally mine as I am yours. As I have always been yours."

His offer alone already had you trembling in anticipation for what he could possibly have in store for you the moment you gave him your answer. "I have to find Nat and Wanda," you blurted out, making a motion to step off of your seat.

"Y/N please--"

"They offered to stop by my apartment after the party," you explained, mustering the courage to press a quick kiss to his lips when you watched in disbelief as a touch of desperation colored his features. "They wanted to make sure I wasn't going to sleep alone tonight. I have to tell them I have other plans."

A brilliant smile stretched across his face as he pulled you in for another kiss, both of you moaning into each other's mouths as he pulled you against him, lifting you out of your seat and setting you back down on your feet, holding you in his arms the same way he did a few moments ago as you weaved your way through the crowd.

It didn't take you long to find the two women in question, tapping both of them on their shoulders to call their attention. "Rain check on the sleepover?" you shouted over the music.

Wanda took one look at how Loki was holding you and eyed Nat with a smirk. "You got a better offer, I see. Go, babes. We just wanted to make sure you didn't sleep alone tonight."

"Now we gotta make sure you stay awake at the mission brief in the morning because you won't be sleeping at all," Nat capped off with a raise of her eyebrow. She eyed the god holding you with a pointed glare. "If you hurt her--"

"I wouldn't dream of it, Romanoff," he cut her off. "Unlike some people in our non-immediate company, I have every intention of holding on to painite with every ounce of my strength."

Your brows once again knitted together as your friends began to squeal and giggle while you walked away with the god, the alcohol clearly beginning to get to them. "Okay I have to ask. What exactly is painite? You've…said that twice tonight," you prodded, looking up at him only to be met with a tender smile and an intensity burning in his eyes that nearly made you fall over.

"It is the rarest, most precious gemstone on this planet. Perhaps in all the realms," he answered, turning you in his arms as soon as you stepped foot into the corridor and walking you backwards until your back was flush against the wall. "And despite its crimson hue I would still say undoubtedly the most beautiful." You shuddered under his gaze as he trailed a finger from the center of your neck down your torso until he reached your waist and pulled you to him for a fleeting but heated kiss. "That is how I see you. Rare. Precious. And undoubtedly the most beautiful creature I will ever lay my eyes on."

The next moment your surroundings were awash with a wave of his green magic, and you were inside his apartment, your moans piercing the quiet darkness as his lips latched on to your neck and you felt his hands working to divest you of your dress. His next words, rasped against your skin, already had your legs shaking without him having even begun to touch you yet.

"Mine. Finally mine."

A/N: Omg I've finally finished it 😩 And he's precious your honor 🥹 I've honestly had this idea bouncing around in my head for so many days now that I'm so happy that it's finally out for y'all to read and (hopefully) enjoy.

There is a plan for a part 2 of this but it's literally all smut and it's a long ways away because I have every intention to get into 'relinquish the crown' again and also 'back to you'…and also the requests from the 500 follower celebration so just like 'sworn fealty'…it might happen, it might not happen, and that's that on that.

Translations: Himmelske – Heavenly Min gudinne – My goddess

'everything' taglist: @sailorholly @loopsisloops @unlucky-number-13 @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @sarahscribbles @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @dangertoozmanykids101 @elizabethmidnight2017 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95

Loki taglist:  @calumance @severuslovebot @moonlightreader649 @i-stand-with-loki @nixymarvelkins @infinitystoner @lokisgoodgirl @purplegrrl27 @thedistractedagglomeration

[moonbaby26]

Title: Black Swans

(Chapter 10 of Doflamingo’s Marine Series)

*Crossposted to AO3 Here*

Chapter Pairings: Doflamingo x Reader, Aokiji/Kuzan x Reader (implied), Smoker x Reader (implied)

Chapter Warnings: language, violence, blood, unprotected vaginal sex, physical abuse, obsessive/toxic relationship

Chapter Synopsis: As Big News Morgans’ spin on you and Doflamingo’s new relationship hits the front pages worldwide, enemies and allies react. The past is also reflected in the present as Doflamingo’s need for you remains a danger for you both.

Chapters: 1,  2,  3,  4,   5,  6,  7,  8,  9,  10, 11

——————————

—————————— 

It was barely dawn, the perfect time to be going through her morning stretches as Tashigi swung her sword gently. Moving slowly from one stance to another, extending her body and holding her balance in each position as she did so.

Being on deck this early gave her more room, and less snickering from some of the other crew. But still being one of the youngest aboard, she had been working on getting a thicker skin about that kind of teasing. So many of her fellow sailors still only treated her like a little sister at best. 

But, that wasn’t wholly unwarranted either as her glasses slid down her nose and she did nearly fall, ducking as a large bird swooped right past her head abruptly.

And then another, and yet another as she straightened up in surprise while the watchman in the crow’s nest above called down to her. One bird had landed by the swordswoman, but many more were still passing overhead as they were spreading out to the other ships dotting the horizon this close to the island they were patrolling past. 

“Grab it, Tashigi! What’s got the news coos so riled up this morning?” The watchman yelled.

“I’m trying!” She had to push her glasses back up to even see the bird clearly. And it spread its wings a bit impatiently as she did reach and take one of the many papers from its leather pouch before it flew again for its next delivery.

“Well!? Who did what, sword girl!?” The watchman still was calling out loudly.

“Hold on!” She was now fighting to get the paper unfolded in the sea breeze to view the front page as she started to read the headlines first.

“Princess Nefertari Vivi was almost kidnapped!” Tashigi yelled back. “Um, she wasn’t though. And then Warlord Doflamingo got engaged…to her? Huh!?”

“What!?” Some other deckhands shouted in unison from the railings above.

“No, wait my glasses are dirty! That can’t be right…” Tashigi was getting flustered, realizing some of the salt spray of the waves had gotten onto her lenses again.

“Someone take the paper from her!” The watchman shouted back to the other deckhands.

“Why are you all goddamn screaming!?” Smoker barked back at them all then, now coming up the stairs from the galley. 

He had his cigars already in his mouth. A mug of hot coffee still steaming as he carried it in one hand.

“Smoker, sir!” They saluted. “Captain on deck!”

But he was scowling, seeing Tashigi nearly lose the paper to the wind as she’d been trying to clean her glasses against her shirt.

“Just give me that already!” He chided her, snatching the newspaper away with his other hand.

More crew had wandered back to deck at the commotion and were clearly waiting as their captain’s eyes went to that front page.

But everything went silent. Silence except for the wind fluttering against the sails and rigging above. At least until Tashigi abruptly yelped. The young woman having to quickly move her feet away from that splash of scalding hot coffee as Smoker’s cup fell to the deck.

“Smoker-san!?” The others called out in surprise.

Both his hands were gripping the paper now as he quickly turned the pages, glaring eyes slightly widening in disbelief the more he read and saw the pictures that accompanied it. 

“Get me the long distance snail, now!” He yelled back to the crew members still hovering in the doorways.

————————— 

“They are not engaged, Garp. Goddammit quit making this worse!” The Fleet Admiral snapped back at his friend, speaking loudly over the cacophony of snails still ringing throughout the office.

“In our day, if you took a girl’s hand and made a picture like that, that’s an engagement! The little shit knew damn well what he was doing!” Vice Admiral Garp insisted just as stubbornly. “And that’s not the worst. The worst is coming for you. Tsuru tells you to watch out for that girl and now you won’t even let Momonga intervene? You’re just going to have that pink jackass carry her off without a fight!? Tsuru’s going to skin you alive! As she should!”

“Listen to me for once in your wretched life, you idiot! I was specifically ordered to stand by! You think I want to sit here and do nothing!?” Sengoku still argued back, their competing voices more than echoing down the hall at this point. Even before the door had swung open and in come Kizaru and Aokiji to join in on the already chaotic scene.

“Sir, that pirate doesn’t have the authority to do any of this! King of Dressrosa or not.” Aokiji spoke immediately, uncharacteristically awake and even riled this early in the morning as he came to stand before the desk.

That contrast of Aokiji’s strong reaction was all the more stark in comparison to Kizaru’s who merely strode over to the couch against the wall. Taking a comfortable seat there instead as he spoke easily. “Just send me, Fleet Admiral. I’d be in and out in no time to pick her up if Momonga is too worried about the optics of it. They wouldn’t even see me long enough for a photo. Just say she had another assignment that came up is all…simple.”

Sengoku’s currently harsh gaze moved from Aokiji, then to Kizaru before he started to speak in return.

But yet another voice cut through before he could. The last of his three admirals now filling that open doorway, large arms crossed like a wall across his chest. “This mess is what Momonga deserves for letting that woman board his ship in the first place.”

Kizaru only raised a curious eyebrow at those new harsh words, but Aokiji fully pivoted to turn in an instant and face Akainu as they stared one another down.

“Oh, get over it.” Akainu answered in response to that new look of insult on Aokiji’s face. “Every thing that girl touches ends up this way, doesn’t it? Think with your real brain for once, Kuzan. The best thing you ever did for your career was to let that one go.”

Kizaru whistled in reaction to that genuine barb, the very slightest smirk on his face before multiple things happened all at once.

Steam shot to the ceiling as Akainu had raised his forearm to block the incoming ice. The ice which had hit his magma skin then sending scorching heat in all directions as Kizaru disappeared with a yellow flash from the couch.

Aokiji was thrown immediately down before he could even attempt another blast however, Vice Admiral Garp grabbing his former student by the back of the collar and taking him to the floor in one decisive shot like a misbehaving child.

As Aokiji’s chest had slammed to the ground, Kizaru only appeared again at the other side of the room. The yellow suited admiral now holding the bleating pet goat that had previously been in the damage radius of all that steam.

Sengoku sighed loudly as Kizaru walked the unharmed animal back over to him, its little bell ringing while it kicked its legs helplessly before it could be set back down near its master.

Aokiji shifted then, pinned to the ground on his stomach still, and too surprised to properly resist really as Garp’s other hand had twisted the ice admiral’s arm so easily behind his back to further hold him there. 

“Bet you didn’t think this old man could still move that fast, did ya, kid!?” Garp laughed loudly. Not even putting in that much effort to achieve such an iron grip before he did let Aokiji up again once Akainu had reverted back from his magma state.

All this transpiring just before a large part of the now heat damaged ceiling collapsed into a haze of dust and cracked plaster right down onto Sengoku’s new carpet.

The Fleet Admiral’s teeth were fully grit as he pushed his glasses back up his nose while that dust cloud spread. His blood pressure rising with it as his new voice left zero room for further disagreement.

“Here is what we will NOT be doing any further this morning! We are the pride of the goddamn navy! And we will not be instigated into infighting all because of one, spoiled brat of a pirate!”

Garp scoffed, unimpressed and prompting a brief glare of death from Sengoku, who only continued unabated.

“And going forward, none of you three are allowed to engage Doflamingo without my explicit approval!” His eyes locked directly onto Aokiji’s in that moment as well. 

Intel had of course gotten back to Sengoku by now of Kuzan’s unsanctioned trip to the warlord’s residence on Sabaody. Sengoku hadn’t known the extent of things then. But Doflamingo’s new behavior in addition to Aokiji’s reaction to it were now more than enough to make this picture of jealousy clear. “And if these orders are disregarded, strongest disciplinary measures will absolutely follow!”

And all three admirals gave varying signals of surprise to those words. At least seeming to agree on one thing, that the choice of inaction was never the preferred path when faced with a pirate’s clear disrespect of the uniform.

And Sengoku’s voice did lower again even as he still seethed. His hands were far more tied than they could ever understand. Not until one of them finally sat in this chair one day.

“This comes straight from Mariejois as well. The government is intending to milk this fiasco as a public distraction I’m sure.” It was already being framed as some goddamn fairytale thing. A king publicly falling for a soldier, or more specifically a sailor in your case. 

But Big News Morgans had to go above and beyond even that interpretation as always. 

In Morgans’ version, you were actually the knight out there saving your princesses. A subversion of the normal children’s archetypes. And King Doflamingo had taken notice, now choosing you the knight instead of said princesses. 

The only thing Sengoku truly couldn’t tell his men was that a warning of this very thing had already happened, years ago. And that both himself and Tsuru had clearly misjudged the longevity of that danger.

She was going to be furious, just as Garp had said. But more at herself than anyone.

Because Rosinante had insisted to them many times that tragedy would be the result if they didn’t keep you far enough from his brother’s influence. 

You were only one of many topics that had come fast and desperate in those shorter and shorter phone calls before the end. But one that the marines would now be forced to face as their own failure once more. 

—————————— 

You could walk again at last. But with that return of feeling also came terrible pain. Your thigh ached all the way to the bone, skin pulling against those makeshift, string sutures with every step. It was all you could do not to visibly limp as you’d walked past all those leering pirates on either side of you while you boarded Doflamingo’s ship.

Your head was still held high, rope dart weapon wrapped on one shoulder, and your long marine coat moving behind you in the last of that Scyllian breeze.

The characters on the back of your coat read boldly as “justice” in stark contrast to the struck through, smiling jolly roger now being hoisted above you to shadow the deck below.

The Donquixote pirates had concealed their ship’s true ownership when arriving. But there was now no further need for discretion, especially in the spectacle that this morning had already become.

No, you knew full well that Doflamingo wanted those reporters on the dock to document his victory while his banner flew proudly above your head. Every additional photo from their flashing cameras having to be something you chose to ignore as you did your best not to falter before so much public scrutiny.

But even you didn’t have the mental endurance right now to stay above deck for long after. As soon as you felt you’d put on enough of a show of indifference, and that the camera lenses were too far at last to reach you, you’d disappeared down the first set of stairs you’d found.

Down into the tight wooden hallways of someone else’s ship as you put your back to the wall and finally trembled. 

Whether from mostly anger, or exhaustion, or still just plain shock, you couldn’t separate the emotions trying to overcome you anymore.

The pirates did keep their distance from you then at least. You suspected that they’d been strictly ordered to. No one following you into that dimly lit hallway but their captain himself. 

The small space feeling all the more claustrophobic then as you looked up into those reflective red sunglasses while his large palm splayed on the wall above your head.

Pink feathers brushed against you in that closeness. His scent so apparent again as you tried not to stare at his bared chest from beneath the now open coat and shirt.

He was back in full form now, body heat radiating as he bent in enough to speak against your ear. 

“You did well…I’m proud of you. But it’s enough now. No one’s going to hurt you here.” And yet even as he said that, his other hand was feeling up across your injured thigh. 

You did wince without being able to help it at even that light pressure, and you heard Doflamingo’s resulting smile in those words which stayed contrastingly soft beside your ear. “My wounded little bird…come rest those wings with me. You have no reason to fly anymore.”

And you knew what he was going to do before he did it. He’d done this last night as well when helping you out of the ballroom when you still couldn’t walk.  

You heard him chuckle too as your arms went around his neck instinctively this time. Making it easier on yourself to not be jostled as much while one of his arms went behind your knees and the other behind your back as he lifted you up to carry you the rest of the way down the hall.

All the way to the captain’s quarters as his strings had pulled the door handle down. His knee easily nudged the door open before he carried you across the threshold into his bedroom.

You heard the door shut and lock behind you almost immediately. Likely his strings doing it all now even as he kept carrying you straight to that oversized bed.

He clearly preferred these luxuries, even at sea as your back was finding his plush mattress soon after.

And he was still smiling, reveling in this really while you watched him push his sunglasses up as you now laid beneath him. He let those glasses rest in his blond hair, exposing his then prideful eyes so soon to you again before he leaned back down to kiss you.

You were absolutely done by then. You’d never slept last night. You’d never had a chance. Awake the entire time, arguing and then eventually pleading to Vice Admiral Momonga. You didn’t understand why nothing could be done. You knew Momonga had called Sengoku. That they had argued too. But nothing had changed.

All your things had still ended up offloaded from Momonga’s ship and handed over to actual pirates instead with the simple report that you were indeed being assigned to Dressrosa for now. Effective immediately and with Doflamingo gloating all the while as he had never left your side last night. He hadn’t slept either, just having his servants pack back up the villa that you’d only briefly gone back to to clean yourself and change before this walk of shame to port this morning.

And now here you were. In a bed with him all over again as he kissed and stroked you. But with a rare gentleness that you were sure was only temporary and brought on solely from his current high of success.

You’d let him slide that coiled rope dart right off your shoulder. Your weapon placed onto the nightstand before he’d untied and slid your boots off for you as well. Then kicking those curved black shoes off his own feet before he pulled his legs back up to further ensnare your body as you lay together.

With his arms holding you too, you disappeared a bit into all those soft feathers of his coat. But he kept his face against yours in the open air above all that pink. Still smiling even as he let his eyes already start to close.

“Sleep for now, love… We won. And we’ll be home soon.” The demon promised. 

———————————

“Hey, what’s he doing now? He was the one telling us last night that we’d have to hurry before we’d miss the tide this morning!” The boy with the orca shaped hat exclaimed.

“I don’t know, he’s been staring at that stupid paper since we left him here earlier.” The other boy with the penguin hat answered.

They were fussing amongst themselves, struggling to carry all the supplies they’d purchased in town as they made their way back to the cove.

Their equally young, teenage captain was currently sitting on a rock near the water’s edge. The crew’s yellow submarine listing gently as high tide began to recede around it. This morning’s news coo paper still in his hands.

“Um, Captain?” The polar bear mink that had been walking beside the other two boys asked almost timidly next, sitting his own supplies he’d been carrying down into the sand before he moved forward. 

Law’s eyes shifted, coldly glancing to the side at his friend as the bear approached.

Bepo squirmed immediately under that stare, but didn’t give up yet. “The tide’s going out…we won’t be able to clear the rocks if we wait…”

“I know that. It’ll be another twelve hours until the water’s deep enough again.” Law sighed at last, that stiffness in his shoulders breaking somewhat.

“Sooo…are we’re staying here then?” Penguin questioned with a head tilt.

“No, get in the damn submarine!” Law stood from off of the rock, the newspaper now rolled in his hand as if he might smack them with it.

“What are you so moody for!? We’re getting in the sub!” Penguin whined, nearly running into Shachi as they both clamored to get back onto the deck of the Polar Tang in such a rush now.

But Bepo held back, fidgeting a little as Law still stood there in the sand.

While the others loaded the vessel, the mink noticed how his captain had already unrolled that paper again. At least enough that even Bepo could now see the tall blond man in one of the main headline photos. That man’s eyes concealed by a red mask, but his smile entirely unsettling. At least to someone like Bepo as that man also held a woman’s hand who was so close to him in the photo.

“She looks afraid.” Bepo said before he could help himself. Noticing that detail too, even where someone else may not have. It looked like a nice, even loving picture of a couple otherwise. Except for the man’s off putting smile and the woman’s concerned eyes.

Law’s chest rose and fell, he looked to the ground a moment before staring back to the bear. “He’s the pirate I used to work for, Bepo. He’ll do anything to get what he wants. I’ve seen him do it.” Law’s voice actually even wavered there, just for a moment at least before that emotion was buried again.

Bepo’s dark eyes widened though, picking up on that too before a warm paw went onto his captain’s shoulder then.

For once, Law did allow that attempt at comfort too. Only bristling slightly, but not pulling away as he revealed even more. It was so rare for him to talk about his last pirate crew. Yet when he did, these negative feeling always tried to force their way out of him.

“I thought she looked familiar.” Law said. “But I saw her name and then it finally clicked. Corazon…the guy I told you about. He tried to help her too once. To keep her away from him. But Doflamingo always wins. Even after this long. Just like he got Dressrosa. Just like he got immunity with the government.” 

Law sneered then as well, almost in a mirror to that strange smile from the photo in the paper in that moment. “What kind of karma is that, Bepo!? Why can someone like him just keep getting his way every time!? While people like Cora…they just disappear. They just get erased and forgotten!”

“But you didn’t forget Cora.” Bepo answered so sincerely then. Bravely really, and with no hesitation as Law stared at the mink in return.

Law scowled as his bottom lip shifted just a single time before he pulled away. As if it had wanted to quiver. “Yeah. I didn’t. But we’ve got a long way to go before I can do a thing about it.” 

And he’d stormed off at that to help the others finish loading the submarine before the tide would leave them. Bepo then hurrying faithfully behind him as they regathered the stack of supplies now falling over into the sand.

——————————-

But later that same day, after the supplies had all been packed away and the course to the next town fully set, Law had still slipped back away from the other boys. Further into the submarine under just the excuse of sitting to practice his powers again.

They hadn’t even left the North Blue yet. They didn’t even have a real crew yet. Not in his critical mind at least. They were still just kids sailing around in this submarine that Wolf had gifted them.

Everything right now was just the very first building blocks to the dream Law had had…or the nightmare rather. The things he wanted to accomplish one day with this second life that Cora had given to him.

But he hadn’t been ready to feel these emotions again so soon, nor had he realized how raw it all still was for him. Not until the very moment he’d seen Doflamingo’s hungry grin on that newspaper this morning, 

A monster that was still feeding on others even now, still taking, never sated as he only ruined one additional life after another. It was the same kind of destruction that Cora had given everything to spare Law from.

And as the boy sat there alone, making small rooms atop the table with the movements of his hand, that newspaper and its triggering images still lay before him.

There was finally a shine of wetness in Law’s eyes then, no one else to see it now before another flick of his fingers had that paper levitating before him. Just for a moment before he jerked those same fingers to have one of his pencils shooting right into the newspaper. It stabbed a hole straight through the throat of that man he still hated this intensely. 

It was like being there all over again though. Law remembered exactly who you were now. It’s not that he particularly cared about you as an individual of course, you were just another victim in a sea of the same. But the difference to him, was how clearly your capture showcased Doflamingo’s true tenacity. That devil’s willingness to play the long game every time.

Because it’d been so long since Corazon had spoken of you. All that time that Doflamingo could have fully moved on to literally any other obsession with anyone else. But true insanity didn’t work that way. And Corazon had understood, and thereby feared that part of his brother more than anyone.

——————————

It had been several years ago. The Donquixote crew celebrating as they always did whenever narrowly escaping Vice Admiral Tsuru’s warship. Partaking in their usual routine once returning safely to their hideout in the North Blue.

But that night had still been different. Doflamingo had been different. The change even noticeable to Law. The young boy, pale and tired sitting on a torn blanket on the floor as he dismantled and cleaned each of the many guns one by one that the older crew members had handed off to him. His assigned task that Buffalo was supposed to assist him with, but somehow never did.

Baby 5 had been giggling, also skirting her normal post mission responsibilities, playing instead in one of the treasure boxes. One of the heavy chests that Senor Pink and Gladius had just dropped on the middle of the floor before they went back outside for more.

Law knew that Buffalo and Baby 5 often got additional leniency in exchange for the usefulness of their powers in battle. But Law had nothing like that. Just his brain and his aching hands, the amber lead spots larger on his skin every passing year as he still cleaned the guns dutifully.

Doflamingo himself was sitting in the leather armchair nearby. One glass of red wine after another downed. Not participating in any of that tedious manual labor of course, but smirking at Baby 5 all the same as she’d run over to him with a gold crown she’d found in all the loot even that quickly.

“Young master! This is for you!” She beamed, with some oversized, jeweled necklaces already hanging down her dress nearly to her knees as well while she offered the headpiece only to him.

That was when Law had first realized the odd mood the Donquixote leader was really in as he’d leaned down all the way, having to bend at his waist to bow his head enough for Baby 5 to crown him, her arms fully outstretched and on her tip toes as she did.

And once that crown was on his head, he cocked it slightly to the side intentionally, straightening back up with a grin as Baby 5 curtsied before him. “Your majesty!” She giggled again, then running back to the additional treasure boxes as Senor Pink and Gladius had returned with yet another one behind it.

Buffalo grew interested in all that gleaming gold too of course. The larger boy and Baby 5 starting to then bicker over some stupid antique coins they’d found, before they’d dropped them all and some went rolling.

Law was still most intent on their leader though, too used to the other children’s immaturity already. He had seen Doflamingo look over to Corazon next who was seated on the couch beside the master’s chair having a smoke.

“What do you think, little brother? Too much or not enough?” Doflamingo was outright fishing for compliments then, wine glass still sloshing in his other hand as he motioned to the crown. 

But cigarette smoke was all that came out from the other Donquixote in a silent puff as usual, Corazon shrugging before stretching out his lanky legs across the floor without much opinion.

The pirate captain only looked somewhat disappointed at that lack of reaction, before an interruption of annoying laughter had both brothers looking back to the doorway anyway.

“Behehe! It really suits you, Doffy!” Trebol barged in then, with Diamante close enough behind him through the door. Something white was folded in Diamante’s hands. “But we’ve finished unloading the ship now, and we have one more surprise for you!” Trebol declared.

Of course Doflamingo’s eyes could not be seen beneath those red glasses. But Law had noticed the way Corazon’s eyes had instantly widened, if ever so briefly as that white fabric was unfurled from Diamante’s grip.

Doflamingo too had straightened up in his seat at the reveal however, cruel smile reforming across his face so instantaneously. “Oh? And who exactly did that get ripped away from?”

It was a marine coat. The standard issue, long and white. At least formerly white, with small blood stained holes and rips now marring it here and there. Particularly where one sleeve had partially separated at the shoulder.

“Well, Doffy, you’d told us you’d seen that girl again this morning. But only through the spyglass when she was with Tsuru.” Diamante now spoke, wearing a wide smile of his own from almost ear to ear. “And this afternoon while you were indeed occupied with Tsuru, we found the girl again on our own. They were trying to sneak up on us from behind. Between Trebol and a I, we were able to separate her from her colleagues.” At that, Diamante tossed the coat across the room in one smooth movement.

Doflamingo caught it easily, but still watching his officers. 

“My apologies though.” Diamante added. “I did have her by the back. But she still slipped right out of it. She’s quite fast. We knew you’d still appreciate the trophy regardless though. But I assure you we won’t miss such an opportunity again.”

And even still being that much younger then, Law remembered the way his stomach had oddly turned as Doflamingo’s long fingers had probed through one of the bloody holes in that fabric, finger curling alongside his ever darkening smile. As the Donquixote captain’s head had tilted, he’d pumped his fingers briefly through that blood stained tear as well, as if in test. “So this is really hers?”

“It is.” Trebol assured, voice also different then  in a way that had made Law completely forget the gun oil still in his hands.

Law almost spilled the bottle of that oil actually as Doflamingo had suddenly pressed that collar and the shoulders of the dirty coat to his face, taking an audible inhale of whatever scent may still remain from its owner.

Law had never seen a person actually do such a thing. And Corazon was staring as well as Doflamingo began to laugh, one fist still clutched into that coat as his white teeth gleamed in real pleasure.

His laugh was loud and shaking up from within that deep place those most intense ones came from. Enough so that even Baby 5 and Buffalo had finally stopped their bickering, silencing as they looked to the young master.

“Well done. All of you.” Doflamingo finally managed. And he’d spread his legs as he leaned back in the chair, yet another glass of wine soon down his throat as he let that coat lay across his lap. 

His cheeks were actually slightly flushed by then, whether from the intense laughter or all the alcohol. He was not himself.

At least not the Doflamingo that Law had long learned to both respect and fear as Corazon had also seemed uncomfortable, watching his brother as well. 

Staring enough that Doflamingo had finally looked back to Corazon. Those red lenses reflecting the light, some other king’s crown still  caught in his spiked blond hair.

“Don’t be so judgmental, Corazon…don’t you want your brother to be happy?” And there was still an edge to those words, almost a challenge.

And suddenly Doflamingo had stood. He grabbed the wine bottle itself as he did. Not the glass. He turned that entire bottle up, his adam’s apple moving up and down with the sound of the remaining liquid leaving the bottle as he drank every last drop. 

He left the empty bottle as it fell. Just the coat was still in his hand as he walked, but his other hand grabbing Corazon by the back of the neck as Doflamingo had passed behind the couch.

Corazon did nothing to fight back, nor did he react with any surprise. Still smoking his cigarette as he tilted his head back for them to then look at one another as Doflamingo loomed over him.

“Tsuru thinks I won’t have that girl…but I will. And you two can both be wrong together then.” He was smiling wide again, before he leaned down. That cruel mouth nearly against his younger brother’s ear before he whispered something else into it.

Law could only watch as Corazon’s breathing stilled at whatever those words were, an unreadable look in the Donquixote officer’s red eyes before that moment had passed just as quickly.

Doflamingo then shoved Corazon abruptly by the neck as he rose back to his full height. Seemingly just taunting his little brother all the more. But rough enough as Corazon, clumsy as he was anyway, nearly fell forward off of the couch. Embers dropped from his cigarette to sear little spots into the top of his pants.

And Doflamingo just watched as his only blood family tried to sit back up and brush off those hot embers simultaneously before they could burn him. 

“I’m going to bed.” The captain did announce to everyone though, pulling at his pants a little as he did, like they were bothering him. His face still seemed somewhat flushed. “You all do whatever the fuck you want.” 

“But it’s only nine.” Buffalo said somewhat stupidly. Normally all their drinking and eating after successful missions went well into the night.

“He didn’t say he was going to sleep.” Diamante grinned.

None of the kids understood this part of it then.

But Doflamingo only chuckled, truly a little drunk by then and fully unashamed as he carried that coat with the marine girl’s blood and scent on it into his bedroom and slammed the door.

Corazon had stood up not long after as well, looking somewhat stricken still and flashing a piece of paper to the room that said he was going out for a walk.

Law had ended up following him too. Not immediately of course, but long enough after. When the other adults were too drunk to give a damn where anyone else might disappear off to.

Things had already started to change between himself and Corazon by then. Corazon knew about the D. in his name. And Law knew that Corazon could actually speak.

So when he did find the younger Donquixote, far from the hideout and sitting on a pile of scrap metal in the moonlight, Law hadn’t wasted any time.

“What the hell is going on with the captain? He was being weird all day.” The boy fussed abruptly.

And Corazon had immediately startled, nearly dropping his cigarette as he glared back to Law. 

But he also saw Corazon look around. Very carefully in fact before suddenly the ocean waves in the distance could no longer be heard.

“Is everybody else passed out already then?” Corazon still spoke low, even while using his devil fruit power.

“Well yeah, I’m not stupid.” Law retorted, the chip on his own shoulder still so big at that time in his life.

“Strongly disagree.” Corazon deadpanned anyway, taking another drag on his cigarette. “You wouldn’t be out here otherwise, kid.”

And of course Law snapped right back, more of that young petulance front and center. “Well you’re out here! So you’re as dumb as anyone!”

And that painted smile had spread a little there. Corazon looking down at him again. This time, not hardly as cold. “Heh. You don’t know the half of it.” But he did flick his cigarette, letting some of the ash fall before he put that bad habit right back up to his lips.

He mustn’t have felt like arguing right now though. He’d looked more tired than normal even for Corazon. “And as I know you won’t damn go to bed until you’re satisfied…fine. Let’s talk. The answer is that my big bro is having a rough day today. He’s got marriage on his mind.”

“What!?” Law had stammered immediately.

Loud and abrupt enough that Corazon had almost dropped his cigarette again. “Stop doing that!”

“Then stop saying stupid things! Our captain’s not going to marry anybody! Did you fall and hit your head again, Corazon!?”

“Well…maybe. But calm the hell down! Trust me, that word has an entirely different meaning for Doffy. It’s not a nice thing.”

“Huh?”

And Corazon sighed. “Look, do you swear you’ll go back inside and go to bed if I tell you this? You need to quit damn worshipping him anyway. Maybe you’ll start to believe me for once.”

“Okay, I swear.” Law had just said without hesitation.

“Quit holding your fingers behind your back you little jerk.”

“I wasn’t!” Law lied.

Corazon rolled his eyes. “You’re too young to understand anyway. But my brother doesn’t just like things. He owns them. He controls them. And if he really likes something, then hell…it’s over.”

“What?”

“See! You are just a dumb kid!”

“I am not! It’s not my fault you can’t explain anything for crap!”

And Corazon groaned. “Okay. I’ll give you an example. Your parents were both doctors right? So you know how bodies work? ….But have you ever held a bird? Especially a really small one? Did you know they don’t have a diaphragm?”

Law’s eyebrows had lowered in more confusion. But yes…he actually did know that from old biology lessons. But he was shocked that Corazon would. And he still didn’t understand how it had anything to do with the topic at hand.

“Well what happens to something without a diaphragm if you put pressure on its chest?” Corazon asked next.

And Law did have to think about it, just still completely caught off guard in the random turns of this conversation. He knew exactly what the muscle of the diaphragm did. It was used for expansion and contraction of the chest, allowing the lungs to inhale and exhale.

But birds used a combination of air sacs with rib movements to achieve similar if he remembered right. But without the strength of a diaphragm, the force they had available to expand their own chest would be much less. So he quickly reasoned that a strong enough external pressure would stop that movement completely. They’d be helpless.

“It…wouldn’t be able to breathe?” Law answered, still unsure if these were the pieces he was supposed to connect.

And Corazon did blink. “Yeah…I guess you’re not so dumb after all.”

But before Law could fully react to that additional teasing, Corazon had looked far more serious.

It was an expression that actually made Law nervous again. Because both of the Donquixote brothers had a similar way their facial muscles stilled when they were really considering something.

And it was intimidating. Even on someone like Corazon.

But the man had already seemed to make up his mind to say even more though as he eventually kept on. “Well, we weren’t always pirates you know. When we were just kids, we did have some pets. I guess that wasn’t too weird compared to everything else. But Doffy had a favorite. See…our mother had these birds, swans actually. And then those birds had babies. But only one liked Doffy. This little black one that never bit him.”

And Corazon sighed then, fully putting out what was left of his cigarette as he shoved the butt into the dirt beneath the scrap metal pile. His broad shoulders had sank somewhat. “So can you guess what happened to that little bird, kid?”

Law just stared for a moment, but finally nodded. Corazon’s somber body language making it all too clear as Law watched the man stand then.

But somehow Law still felt like he had to say it out loud. Because this was the lesson that Corazon had wanted him to understand. The only reason all of this was being confessed at all.

“He held it too hard…he killed it.” Law spoke into the darkness.

And Corazon’s eyes were pained. Proving that this conversation was also about far more than a child’s one time mistake. “And he’s never learned since.” The lanky man replied before he had started to walk, Law still following behind him as he did.

It wasn’t really a conscious thing yet to want to stay together. Neither of them fully realizing that shift in allegiance already beginning in the boy.

“Hey, Corazon…” Law did look back up at him after a while too.

“Yeah?”

“What did your brother whisper to you back there to make you run off? You looked really weird when you heard it.”

And Corazon scoffed. “I already told you. He’s got the future on his mind. He thinks he needs to check some certain boxes once we’re in the New World. And she’s one of those boxes. You really don’t want to know what the rest was about though. Let’s just say it must be flamingo breeding season whenever she’s around and leave it at that.”

“Ew! That’s gross! You’re not supposed to tell me that!” Even then Law was pretty sure you weren’t that much older than him. And he did know how reproduction actually occurred. He knew in the context of old medical textbooks at least.

“Well then don’t ask! That’s your wonderful leader, kid.”

The now former leader who was still smiling this many years later, so disconcerting in that newspaper as Law continued to glower down at his pierced photo in the present day. 

And the more Law stared at that image of you and Doflamingo, the more he realized that the black feathers in the mask you wore were the same as a little bird’s who had stopped moving within a child’s hand once. 

The same black feathers that had been stained with so much blood in the snow as Corazon had also taken his last breath.

Doflamingo was now on his third black swan.

——————————— 

Something was tickling your cheek as you finally opened your eyes and lifted your head slightly within the feathers. 

The haze of sleep was slow to recede as you tried to get your bearings.

A heavy arm was over your back. Those pink feathers encircling you as you tried to silently blow away the loose one that had landed on your face.

It all carried his scent. Those expensive colognes you hated to admit you were already becoming used to. He didn’t always wear the same one. But you could pick any of them out immediately by now.

And you assumed you’d see those bicolored eyes of his watching you hungrily as always when you’d finally glanced up from your place against his warm chest. 

But you did pause at the view that met you instead this time.

Doflamingo’s eyes were closed, lean face relaxed. His lips were parted as he breathed audibly, deep and steady. The red sunglasses were still barely hanging on in his hair where he’d left them, completely skewed now and almost endearing in that lack of care.

He was absolutely out.

And you could not stop staring, a bit in awe at how truly different he looked this way.

One of your hands was still on his chest as you realized in this new stillness that you could even feel his heartbeat beneath your splayed palm.

You bit your lip slightly in your further odd reaction, the responding warmth and tightness in your own chest making little sense.

Of course he had a heart to move his blood around. Of course he couldn’t hold those face muscles into a look of cruelty even in his sleep. 

But he looked younger like this. He looked like a man that would have had real friends. A man that would have woken with a real smile for you, and never would have hurt you.

An extremely pretty lie once more.

Gently, you removed those sunglasses from his hair regardless, sitting them quietly on the nightstand before they would fall to the mattress. You sat those infamous glasses on top of your weapon there beside the bed. Not missing the significance of those barriers both being set aside willfully now.

And you laid back down as gently as you could afterward. His bare chest still your unexpected refuge while his rhythmic breathing never changed. 

It should have made you even angrier, that he could do so much to you and still sleep this soundly. No guilt to be had in him at all.

But it was far more complicated than just this. He was both the cause and the relief to so much pain as your eyes had soon closed again. 

—————————— 

The transponder snails in his quarters must have all been put on do not disturb that morning. Because you and that warlord did sleep half the day together like that. 

The first thing you’d remembered next was him finally stretching. That warm torso you were still pressed against tensing and then relaxing again as you felt large hands starting to roam over you. It felt like he was checking how much clothing you were still wearing actually.

Which was all of it. Both of you had only taken off your shoes before passing out here. And you did contemplate feigning like you were still asleep to see how much longer he would leave you alone.

But it was quickly pointless. A hand was then beneath your marine coat and starting to tug your skirt down from your hip already as you grabbed his wrist in response. 

Your injured thigh was still so sensitive of course. You were trying to protect it as your sudden movement did earn a chuckle from him. “Relax. I’m not going to open up your wound…though you wouldn’t be in this situation if you’d quit trying to save every brat you come across.” He both greeted and chided you simultaneously as you’d awoken.

“They were going to kill her.” You argued, albeit without much bite to it yet as you were still not fully awake.

“Maybe…probably.” He smiled at your lingering sleepy tone. “But it happens every day, love. Much easier just to focus on your own family going forward and leave it at that.”

And you felt your skirt being pushed up then instead. Him changing the tactic slightly, but still clear on his intent to get that fabric out of his way. “I still think you’d like one of your own.” He said next though. Voice just as taunting while his fingers were now playing with the sides of your underwear.

“I already have a family,” you said plainly, but still not really looking at him.

“I don’t mean our crews and you know it.” His tone darkened some at that, his grin back all at once as his hands grabbed you by the arms.

And before you could fully process, he had pulled you even closer to bury his face into the collar of your white marine coat. Fully into the fabric while you heard him breathe you in. 

The sound was like an animal, catching onto a scent it so desperately wanted more of. And he stilled for that moment, only breathing in your body and warmth. Like your coat itself was triggering him as much as anything. Stirring up something even older as his voice finally came out again, albeit far more stressed. “Have I told you how very many times I’ve wanted to rip this uniform right off of you…”

You cursed though as he bit your fucking coat without warning after, right over your chest. That switch in him had flipped again. Something you had yet to learn to fully predict.

The pressure from his jaw still badly pinched your soft breast even underneath the layers of fabric. His saliva coming off that long tongue as he only released the bite long enough to move your coat further open. 

And when it was, he then had that wet maw back on just your shirt instead. He was sucking your breast even through the thin fabric. Bra also be damned as one of his hands did reach under your shirt to roughly push those cups up and out of the way before he bit down yet again.

“No.” He said, short and harsh then. Lifting his mouth just enough to scold you as you’d tried to of course push his face back away at the pain. “This is what I need….I’ve thought of the day I could really bring you home. I’ve wanted it so much…”

And you couldn’t possibly understand. 

But that already growing bulge was tightening behind the bright capris pants as he pushed his still clothed erection between your legs next.

Your shirt was now sticking, wet over your breast as he started gradually thrusting as well. Almost fucking you without actually fucking you as your hands gripped into his hair in the growing pain.

If he thought this was somehow less rough than the real thing, he was fully wrong. All that pressure on top of your wounded leg, and against the bruises from bullets that had never pierced your skin. It was almost intolerable.

But he was spiraling quickly into his own problems, his own memories regardless. With his tongue then fully hanging out, he’d now jerked your underwear down your legs.

Your skirt was already bunched up around your waist. While the tented front of his pants ground against your then exposed slit as he groaned, tongue only briefly receding with his additional words. 

“Why do you always do this to me…” He questioned, real irritation forming in that odd tone as his fingers started to claw at the drawstrings of his waistband all the same. Like he just wanted to shred them too in his growing impatience. “Fucking making me so hard it hurts…then goddamn running away all those times. I hated it so much.”

And he had risen back up, your hands falling away from him as he used both his own to pull his pants down. Open and loose around his ass then as his already precum smeared cock moved out into the air.

You made a pitiful sound of course as that wide head of it was immediately being drug between your folds instead. He had his hand around his shaft as he pressed the tip of himself against your clit and started so roughly rubbing the two against one another.

“You know how often I had to pump this goddamn cock for you?” He still asked, sounding angrier all the while. Even as he was edging your entrance and stroking his own shaft simultaneously. “I wanted you…but you started fucking marines instead. So I had to go fuck so many nobodies and a goddamned prick who still backstabs me every chance he gets.”

And you were starting to pant, hurting so badly as he was no longer paying any attention to his weight on your wounds while he straddled and berated you with this escalating nonsense. 

“I didn’t even know you then!” You finally yelled back at him.

“And whose fault was that!? I was waiting for you!” He just snapped in return, just as he did push inside of you, making you cry out as always as you stretched.

But he still laughed even on top of that, starting to pump his hips as his hands grabbed tightly to your body beneath him. His fingernails dug in for purchase as he started fucking you harder and harder.

“Regardless…we’ve still got to make up for lost time…Scylla was just the beginning. You owe me so much more.” He hissed, the bed shaking in rhythm with his pounding into you. 

That pink feather coat was still over his shoulders. Enveloping the two of you on either side as his animalistic drive showed no hint of slowing.

You were outright gasping in pain, and it was only encouraging him. 

But the thing that finally put you over the edge was when you felt a new wetness beneath your leg. Warm and red as those string stitches gave up at last.

He had broken his word and done exactly what he’d said he would not do. Too rough, too needy, too much all at once.

The blood was pooling to stain your white coat still beneath you as your body then reacted on its own accord. His mind was too far gone in this current tangent, seemingly needing to torture you for crimes you couldn’t even know.  

So you snapped on him in return.

Your fist slammed into Doflamingo’s bare abdomen so incredibly hard. Compressing it violently, with haki crackling out even the other side of his back as he hadn’t had a single defense ready for you.

The gasp that came out of him was full of spit and even bile from his stomach as he crumpled forward.

His cock was still inside you as time seemed to stop. But the way his body reflexively pulled in on itself, and the way his arms came up defensively with his head ducked beneath them was still something you’d never seen from him before.

Because his mind hadn’t known he was in danger, he’d had no warlord level fight response ready. By surprising him that fully, you’d seen almost a cowering posture if for just that single instant in that man.

A body language you knew immediately as you’d experienced it in the past yourself. In that moment, you actually saw the muscle memory from someone who’d been beaten before. An abuse survivor who’d grown into an abuser themselves.

That final thought weighed heavy in your mind before time restarted.

Strings jerked your arms viciously, holding them away so hard that your joints burned. Burned and stretched so that you could not possibly block before his own armament infused strike came down across the side of your face in return. The sound of the crack echoing through the room as you spit blood over the pillowcase.

You swallowed reflexively, moving nothing else but your eyes as you stared back up at him then panting above you with his fist still clenched.

Spit and the smallest bit of vomit was on his chin, his eyes wide and staring down at you.

But then he’d seen it at last. The red growing beneath you both on the bed.

——————————

Doflamingo was still in shock, mind trying to catch up when he realized how wet his leg really felt. For the briefest moment he’d thought you’d somehow stabbed him as well. He truly didn’t understand. 

Arousal and adrenaline and confusion were all one big knot in his mind as he still felt like he needed to puke from the force of that surprise uppercut straight into his guts.

And by comparison, you were calm. Lying motionless beneath him even after all of this. As hard as he’d hit you in return, your eyes were still clear and sharp. You were waiting for him to catch up on the situation. One animal watching another.

And finally he did have that higher moment of clarity.

“Goddammit,” he breathed at last, wiping the mess from his own chin with the back of his hand. That adrenaline which had been burning through his chest then changing to a more complicated feeling once again when he realized what he had done. 

He’d misjudged his strings’ longevity on another person’s body was what it came down to. The makeshift sutures’ hold was apparently not as good when on anyone else but the String-String user themselves.

It wasn’t like he ever did this for others to really know any better though. His strings were for cutting down foes, not for mending his treasure.

And all he could do right now was replace them. Fresh strings as he ran his fingers over your wound yet again, smearing that new blood as he laced you back together. He’d just have to keep changing them until reaching Dressrosa now. He didn’t have a good enough doctor on board to handle this otherwise

Not one that he’d trust you to anyway.

And only when the blood flow had stopped again did he finally look back to your face. You still watched him quietly with blood staining down your chin. Some had even run to drip onto your throat now. 

He hadn’t held back when he’d hit you. 

And the composure you maintained, even with his strings glistening tight against your arms and all that blood remaining across your leg and down your chin made it impossible for him to lose his erection. He hadn’t even pulled fully out.

“I didn’t keep my word.” Doflamingo finally admitted however, still hard as anything between his legs as he watched you below him.

But his desire couldn’t be overstated. Every memory, every need, and all the times he’d laid awake fucking his own hand or whatever remnants he could find of you while just thinking of tearing you down one day. That had stayed with him so much more than even he had realized.

You were a fantasy become real. He didn’t know what else to do.

“I felt it ripping open…I just reacted.” Was what you said at last though. Not emotional, not accusing, just telling him why you’d done what you did.

And he did smirk at your straight forward approach. Oh, you were absolutely still a wounded little bird to him. But you now had so violently just reminded him that this little bird would still bite.

You were so unlike the random, pretty strangers that normally passed through his bed and cowered all the while. But also different than the indefinite danger of conquests like Crocodile who may “bite” him the entire encounter unless properly muzzled.

You were a blend somewhere in between those two extremes. Soft enough that he would still trust sleeping beside you and offering you his blind side. Because somehow he did know that you didn’t actually loathe him by now. And you had that core code of honor as well still dictating your every life choice. 

But you were also hard enough that there was still a line there somewhere that he would have to keep exploring. A boundary in you that when crossed, his little bird would absolutely turn and try to take a piece out of him.

Yes, everything happening now was actually only cementing his belief in having made the correct choice to take you with him at last. 

And as that heat pulled back into his chest, he moved his hand again. Releasing you from his strings that he knew you’d still been using haki to not be cut by.

You must be in a lot of pain right now.

“I can finish without pressing down on you…” He assured again.

His stomach still hurt as well as he slowly began to pump in and out of you once more, albeit actually controlling himself this time even as he smiled through the pain. His thighs he spread wide enough so that they were not against you any longer as he held his weight off of your body as well. Only his cock was still sliding in and out of you in a near gentle rhythm.

“We’re both going to cum, lover…and then we’re going to have a warm bath together.” He said as his newest promise. One he could actually keep this time as his thumb moved affectionately back over your clit. 

He knew you wouldn’t be able to stand up long in the shower right now. So drawing a bath after this was the very inviting alternative. His quarters had both options.

And he didn’t fucking care if sitting too deep in the bathwater would make him feel weak by the curse of his devil fruit. He still wanted the privilege of doing it with you. He wanted to be the one to wipe away that blood that he’d made you spill, and almost tenderly clean his mate for the spotlight that would surely now be awaiting you both in Dressrosa.

———————————

    T⨂  BE 

CONTINUED

———————————

Thanks for reading!

[forteania]

I think I’ve accidentally gotten into Terraria…

[freesia-writes]

Ch 19: Montage

~ Master List ~ Previous Chapter ~ WC: 2.8k

Vibe Songs: “One Last Dance” by Us The Duo or, an instrumental option: “Billow Gently” by Sophie Hutchings and Lavinia Meijer

.

“Look at this,” Lyra said, having turned over a small log and squatted down to inspect the contents hiding beneath. “Look at the legs on that thing!” A brightly-colored insect of sorts crawled along the edge, seeking a return to the dark privacy it had been enjoying. It had more legs than she could count, and they rippled mesmerizingly as it scurried out of sight. Hunter knelt next to her, leaning over to squint at the small worms wriggling in the soil, and he used a small stick to brush away some of the crushed leaves, revealing another one of the bugs, less vibrant than the first but just as graceful as it crawled onto the twig in Hunter’s hands. He held it up toward Lyra, who shifted backward with a little giggle, shaking her head as he dropped it with a grin. They rose slowly, brushing themselves off and stretching stiff joints, and she slipped her hand into his, both of them tight-lipped as though the beaming smiles bursting forth needed to be hidden. Continuing along the path, he brushed his thumb along the back of her knuckles, wondering if he would ever tire of the way her cold hands brought such warmth to his chest. 

* * * 

“Ha! Gotcha!” Lyra announced, slapping her hand of cards onto the table triumphantly.

“No!!” Wrecker yelled, throwing his own across the room. “I needed one more card! You’re cheatin!”

“I would never!” she gasped in dramatic affront.

“Mmm, we need to find a different game,” Hunter rumbled, folding his own cards back into the deck and giving her a stern look out of the corner of his eye, pressing his lips together to avoid laughing at her wide-eyed response. He was delighted with the way she was gradually unfolding, increasingly comfortable to be animated or relatively bold.

“How about arm wrestling…” Wrecker grumbled, and now it was Lyra who guffawed boisterously before clapping her hand over her mouth at the ungodly sound that had escaped.

“Bring it on,” she said, trying to recover and setting her arm up on the table, holding her hand out for Wrecker’s, but he just stared from his seat opposite her with delighted confusion.

“I wasn’t serious.”

“Ah, I thought it might make you feel better,” she continued, realizing then how condescending she might be sounding. “Shoot, I’m making it worse, aren’t I…”

“Yup. Get out,” Wrecker said, eyes sparkling with mischief as he stood up and solemnly pointed toward the front door. Lyra shifted uncomfortably in her seat, truly concerned that she’d crossed a line despite the playfulness in his demeanor. 

“This is my house, Wrecker,” Hunter interjected, stretching in his seat with a lazy grin. 

“Fine,” his brother huffed, winking at Lyra with an accusatory finger in her direction. “But I’m watchin you.”

She laughed, taking the deck from the middle of the table and beginning to shuffle it. “Well watch this…”

Hunter caught her eye and they shared a smirk against the backdrop of Wrecker’s indignant grumbling.

* * * 

The fire crackled noisily in the hearth as Lyra approached from the kitchen, a warm mug of tea in each hand, and Hunter’s hand brushed hers as he took it from her. She curled up next to him on the couch, tucking her feet to the side and nestling against him, relishing the weight of his arm across her shoulders. He didn’t miss the way her eyes lingered on his lips as he blew across the surface of the tea, making the tendrils of steam dance in front of his face before taking a sip. The smell of cinnamon rolls in the oven filled the small cottage with a coziness beyond comparison, and he leaned his cheek against her hair, taking a deep breath of all the scents of this new sort of life he was still struggling to comprehend. She held her own tea in one hand, the other moving to rest tentatively on his knee.

An hour of conversation later, Hunter was laying across the couch, his head resting in her lap as she gazed down at him, enraptured. Her hands ran through his hair, stroking it away from his face, and explored his face with feather-light curiosity, a slight tremble to her touch as she followed the curve of his eyebrows, the slope of his cheek… He closed his eyes for a long moment, taking a deep breath as she caressed back up from his chin and buried her fingers in his hair, leaving them there to brush her thumb back and forth across his temple as the distant crash of the waves was the only sound added to the steady beating of their hearts. 

* * * 

“Here they come,” Lyra said, pointing to the fathiers trotting across the meadow toward them. She reached into her bag, pulling out a single, soft rope, and greeted the animals as they came to a halt before her, snuffling against her hand for the cubes of sugar she never failed to offer. Both received a treat and a fond stroke along the neck before she fastened the rope along the chest and neck of one, patting the other one and sending it on its way. 

“But–” Hunter said, brow furring for a moment.

“Darn,” she said, finishing the makeshift bridle. “I’ll have to sit behind you.”

A slow grin spread across Hunter’s face at her being “forward”, and he pulled his hair up into a bun on top of his head. “Maybe I sit behind you this time,” he poked, and she waggled her eyebrows in response. 

“I’m feelin adventurous. Better watch out.” 

Next thing he knew, he was indeed tucked behind her on the animal, reaching around either side of her waist to hold the rope as well, providing extra security as he wrapped his body around hers. She shivered once, leaning back for a split second with a blissful sigh, then re-centered herself on the animal and nudged it into action. It broke into an easy lope across the hills, snorting with delight as it navigated through some sparse outcroppings of trees, forcing them to duck beneath some low-hanging boughs. 

When they emerged into a large open space, with nothing but flat grass stretching out before them for what seemed like miles, Lyra leaned forward against its neck, whispering encouragement that matched the animal’s excitement as it opened up into a full gallop. The ground flew by in a blur, Hunter wrapping himself around Lyra’s back and catching the tail end of the gleeful laugh she couldn’t hold in anymore. 

* * * 

The island curved below them in majestic beauty, its dark curves dotted with the warm glow of lights peeking out of windows from cozy homes tucked here and there. The stately tower of the observatory stood tall behind Hunter as he came to a halt, releasing his affectionate grip on Lyra’s hand to instead invite her in front of him, gesturing at the vista before them. Her sharp inhale of awe made him stand up a little straighter, and he slipped his arms around her waist, pulling her back against his chest. Something about having her close in that particular way soothed him deep in his soul. He could stay that way forever, feeling her heartbeat, listening to her steady breath, picking up on her light scent as her hair brushed against his cheek… She placed her hands over his, tugging them more snugly around her, and closed her eyes, soaking up every sensation she could to remember the moment forever. 

* * * 

“Ah, sorry!” Lyra exclaimed, clapping a hand to her forehead as she looked down at their feet.

“It’s fine,” Hunter chuckled, scooping her up in his strong-armed frame again. “We’ll get this!”

“This was a silly idea,” she confessed, blushing as they tried the steps again, watching the screen in her office where she’d queued up some instructional dance holos after everyone had left for the day. They’d moved chairs out of the way and tilted her monitor, facing each other with sheepish grins as he held out a hand to her, which she took, holding up her other arm for him to take, but he’d bowed deeply, kissing her hand before standing up with a mockingly serious expression. She leaned in, wrapping her arm against his with a giggle, and they began to move with the music. 

“One-two-three, one-two-three,” the voice on the screen announced. “Keep your elbows up, remember. Don’t let them sink against your sides.” Both of them immediately complied, straightening themselves back into their proper form as they stepped. “Back-side-together, forward-side-together. And hey, lovebirds, don’t forget to look at each other!”

“Oh gosh,” Lyra breathed, meeting his gaze with a guilty grin. “I didn’t know it was like this.” 

“Naturally,” Hunter conceded, keeping them in perfect rhythm and guiding her with a strong frame. “I have no idea why something like that would be in a holofilm called The Intimacy of Waltz.”

“That’s not what it’s called!” she protested, immediately pausing her movement to stare at him in disbelief.

“Did you not watch the intro?”

“No, I was distracted…”

“By what?”

“You,” she admitted, trying to fall back into step but unable to tear her eyes from his face as he studied her with a wry grin. 

“Me,” he echoed skeptically.

“You,” she nodded, glancing at the ground. “It’s not fair,” she murmured as she clumsily mirrored his graceful steps. “One person shouldn’t be so attractive.”

“Mmm, you should write a letter of complaint.” He twirled her, or tried to, as she missed the cue and ducked beneath his arm in a sudden twist of overcompensation. 

“And what, send it to your mom?” 

“Eh… Yeah.” He rotated her back, spinning her around more firmly now and catching her with a firm hand between her shoulder blades. She gasped in surprise at his smoothness, turning her feet quickly to catch up. He’d pulled her in more closely, and they both stilled, faces mere inches apart. Her eyes followed the curve of his tattoo along his cheek down to his lips, her own parting slightly with unspoken thoughts. Hunter’s heart leapt into his throat, his entire body flushing with warmth and anticipation, yet he was frozen in place. Her grasp on his hand tightened, and she swallowed hard before dropping her chin and stepping back, releasing him and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear self-consciously. 

* * * 

Rain poured outside, drenching the island with a refreshing shower after months of increasing warmth, and the steady drip from the eaves was a rhythmic melody behind the music that wafted from the small speaker on the kitchen counter. It had gotten dark hours ago, the few candles having burnt out during the course of the evening, and the moons peeked in through the windows to cast an ethereal glow across Hunter’s living room, illuminating the curves of arms and shoulders, hips and legs, all entwined on his couch. His chest rose and fell steadily, the only movement for minutes now, and it gently moved Lyra’s head back and forth where it rested against him. 

Their eyes were closed, faces blissfully relaxed as they snoozed. Both had fallen asleep after hours of talking after dinner, and their couch cuddle had morphed into a contented slumber, both inching downward until they were completely horizontal, wrapped around each other in unfathomable warmth and comfort. The tingling sensation in Hunter’s arm grew more demanding, waking him from his nap, and he blinked blearily, face softening at the sight of Lyra’s sleeping form tucked between him and the back of the sofa. He carefully extricated his arm, pausing as she roused for a moment before going still again with a few comfort licks that brought an irresistible smile to his face. He sat up on one elbow, brushing some hair from her forehead and leisurely studying the lines beside her lips, the creases at the edges of her eyes, the curves of her brows. The last few months felt like a dream, and he pushed away the ever-present question of the wisdom of his choices, instead soaking up every detail of her. 

He’d dozed off again when she woke up later, pushing herself up with a hand on his chest and trying not to get completely distracted by its broadness and his steady pulse beneath her palm. She glanced around the room, trying to find a chrono, but there were none to be seen. Hunter stirred, eyes slowly opening to see her hovering above, and his movement caught her attention. Tipping her head down to face him, she pushed away the cascade of messy hair that tumbled into her face from the movement and sleepily admired him in his soft vulnerability. Seemingly of its own accord, her hand found his cheek, tracing the tattoo along the face that had come to be so familiar. He took a deep breath, nestling into her touch as the corners of his lips curved into a smile. 

“Hi,” she whispered, a cascade of tingles washing over him at the adoration in her tone.

“Hi,” he echoed, reaching up to cup her hand with his own before gently turning it and bringing it to his mouth to press a warm kiss to the backs of her fingers. He’d been sleeping more deeply than he had in a long time… as long as he could remember, if he were honest, and he felt entirely unconcerned about his rummy state. Stretching a bit, he tucked one arm behind his head, regarding her fondly. 

“I’ve got to go,” she murmured regretfully. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“Hmm,” he sighed, turning his head to gaze at the closest moon, tucked into the corner of the window behind the forest outside. “Alright.” She gazed at him steadily, absently rubbing her lips together as she took in his sharp profile. He noticed her stare and faced her, struck by the seriousness on her face. “You okay?” he asked, voice still husky from sleep. 

“I really want to kiss you, Hunter,” she confessed, sending a jolt of electricity straight through his core at her raw vulnerability and surprising confession. His heart pounded in his chest, words swirling like a tornado in his head but none surfacing for actual use. She continued, “But… I can’t. I just can’t, yet…” 

He let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, nodding slowly as he tried to regain a mental footing. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t know where that came from… Other than just… Gods… You’re beautiful,” she whispered, caressing his cheek again as her eyes roved across the peaks of his upper lip and the sharp curve of his nose. “And I care about you so, so much. Just… Agh. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said quietly. Silence sat heavy between them, so many thoughts and desires fighting for release. “Besides,” he continued, “how do you even know if I want to kiss you or not?” The smirk was apparent in his tone, and she smacked him lightly on the chest, exhaling a chuckle of relief. They shifted together, climbing over one another to come to seated positions on the couch, where they stretched and sighed, regretful to be awake. 

Lyra rose to her feet, arching her back one last time before starting her sad walk toward the door, but Hunter grabbed her hand, turning her back to him a little abruptly. She stumbled into his arms, bracing herself with two hands flat against his chest, and he tilted his head, considering her intently from an inch away as his arm wrapped around her waist.

“What–” she breathed, but he lifted a hand to her chin, brushing a thumb against her bottom lip to quiet her question as he held her face steady in his gaze. 

“For the record,” he purred, stomach quivering beneath his seemingly confident facade, “I do want to kiss you.” She exhaled quietly, entranced by his intensity. “So whenever it does happen…” he leaned in, pressing his lips to her forehead and remaining there for a lingering second before pulling back again. She held her breath, waiting for him to finish his sentence, but he faltered, eyes flickering side to side as he realized he really had no clue what he should say. He laughed, dropping his hand from her face and running it through his hair.

“You can’t leave me hanging like that,” she gasped, playfully tugging at the front of his shirt. 

“I don’t even know where I was going with it,” he admitted, rubbing his face. “I was trying to sound… bold.”

“Well,” Lyra huffed, stepping back and straightening her clothes absently. “I can tell you one thing, ‘whenever it does happen’…” She drifted off, straightening up to face him again with a clearly flustered grin. 

“Yes?” he asked slowly, a teasing tone to his voice.

“I think I’m gonna need to be sitting down.”

.

Previous Chapter ~ Master List ~ Next Chapter

Join the tag list by commenting for the discord server link or filling out my form.

@lightwise @littlemissmanga @dystopicjumpsuit @523rdrebel

@solstraalaa @skellymom @photogirl894 @youreababboon @anything-forourmoony

@reader6898 @moonstrider9904 @hipwell @lamiliani @catoo

@ilarria @padawancat97 @yve-barr @lucyysthings @flowered-bicycles

@maddiedrmr @techhasmjolnir @arctrooper69 @spicy-clones @ezras-left-thumb

@cw80831 @dreamie411 @meagmcc12 @waytoooldforthis78 @hunter-lvr

@baddest-batchers @yunggoblin @sweeticedtea @imperfectxprincess @ivyyyyy

@callsign-denmark @leotawrites @carlislecullensadilf @ivyyyyy

@thetechturn @burningnerdchild @galaxyofthoughts99 @salaminus @goldy-lots

@littlefeatherr

[inaconstantstateofchange]

BG3 Companion Headcanons: Wicked Grace (Or, Well, Talis¹)

I got to thinking about what it would look like if we had a similar scene with the BG3 companions as the infamous Wicked Grace scene from Dragon Age: Inquisition. Enjoy:

Lae'zel: She doesn't really see the point of a game seemingly so dependent on chance rather than true strategy – she and Gale share a bonding moment over this – and refuses to participate after losing by an embarrassing margin in the first game. However, she does take a "strategic vantage point" from which to keenly observe the proceedings, and makes a private vow to win back her honor in future, after the sting of defeat has eased.

Astarion: He's the one who suggested the whole affair in the first place, but he quickly finds himself with cause to regret it. On the one hand, he ends up... enjoying himself to a certain degree, but on the other, he does not come out of it with anything near the unquestioned victory he expected. He's not used to playing against opponents with a comparable skill level, so his attempts to cheat his way to victory only succeed a fraction of the time. His stress levels increase after Lae'zel taps out and takes up haunting the table, and the inconsistency with which she calls out his cheating is worse for his nerves than if she did it every time.

Shadowheart: Astarion may have suggested the affair in the first place, but she's the one who manipulated him into it, by "casually" noting on a mission one day that it was a shame none of them had a deck to play with, as she was a great enjoyer of the game even though she had never had any great skill with it. In fact, such games were highly emphasized among Sharrans for their unparalleled utility in information gathering, manipulation, and subterfuge.

Gale: He starts out very certain of his skill and assured victory, then begins making several pointed comments about how it would be a different story if they were to bring out the lanceboard when he begins losing ground — and articles of clothing. He makes a decent showing for himself, but folds out just after the midpoint of the evening to join Lae'zel in treating the remaining players as the prime entertainment they are.

Wyll: He played with some of the Fist recruits as a teenager, but he's a little out of practice. He gets fleeced for the first few rounds, but settles into it, keeps his wits about him, and quietly gets his own back by the later rounds. He regularly catches his opponents off-guard with an unexpected quip, and Karlach has to excuse herself for an entire round after snorting ale out of her nose in a horrid mix of foul steam and boiling liquid. He apologizes vigorously, but can't stop laughing along with the rest of them, and it certainly doesn't make him stop.

Karlach: She's actually a brutal opponent, but unfortunately stymied by her recent experience being with the rulesets used by those devils willing to play in Avernus, and, prior to that, the heavily amended rules favored by the seedier neighborhoods of Baldur's Gate. No one – particularly not those currently winning – is willing to switch to a different set of rules in the middle of the evening, but Karlach makes them promise that next time, she gets to pick the ruleset. She calls it a night after the Ale Incident, clapping Wyll on the back before flopping down next to Gale and Lae'zel, and picking a new target to cheer on each round. (Her cheering is distracting enough that said targets are typically grateful when her attention lands on anyone else. This is on purpose. She is having a grand time.)

Minthara: She treats the initial invite with icy disdain, noting that she has far more productive things to do than to engage in such puerile pursuits. The camp is small enough that she can't entirely avoid the bright cluster of gathered individuals raucously ribbing at and laughing with each other. She ends up drifting nearer, noting that in Menzoberranzan they played for much more meaningful stakes than mere coin. Everyone's in a good enough mood to leave that one alone, and so she somehow ends up standing just behind Halsin's shoulder. She offers blunt and often biting commentary berating his strategy for being too hands-off, falling silent only when he wins that round — albeit with a gambit that would have lost him some fingers in Menzoberranzan. He looks at her with a gleam in his eye, but doesn't press his point, merely tilting his hand to allow her a better view, and they proceed to form a fairly successful team.

Halsin: He plays up his ignorance at first, claiming cards to be "an invention of civilization", but acquits himself with the skill of a reasonably accomplished dabbler. As the night wears on, he admits in a quiet, humor-laced aside that his master, the previous First Druid, was an inveterate card sharp, and Halsin's own skill was merely what he acquired in self-defense. When Minthara joins him, he ignores her more bloodthirsty suggestions, but incorporate those that suit his own strategy, culminating in an unpredictable, yet startlingly effective strategy.

Jaheira: She's brutal. A terror. They overlook her the first round – innocent, unknowing fools that they are – more focused on their own petty squabbles with one another. She smiles calmly, refuses to rise to any of the general ribbing, then sweeps the entire pot at the last minute with a play that leaves them all gaping at her. From that point, they are gunning for her in particular — and she makes them fight for every single copper they regain.

Minsc: No one is certain whether he knows what game they're playing. He will make absolutely absurd plays, then come in at the last with a card laid out on Boo's direction that somehow turns it around. His chaotic playstyle means he's never first — but he's also, inexplicably, never last.

¹ "Some games of skill are detailed below, but games of chance are also popular. Wagering on any sort of game is also a favorite pastime.... Talis Deck: A deck of seventy-eight cards, typically made of lacquered paper or parchment, in a wooden case. The deck is similar to a tarot deck." Forgotten Realms Campaign Setting 3E. 2001. p. 96.

[sunshinepanic]

Overbearing

Pairing: John B x LittleSister!Reader

Summary: Request is for John b: Reader is John b's little sister and she decides to surf the surge when there is a storm without telling John b. She gets a little injured while surfing and hides it from John b. John b finds out she is hurt and scolds her for going surfing in the storm and hiding her injury. I went ahead and made reader surf the storm from season 1 and just made it like John B and Pope never did it.

Warning: Angst, Fluff, reader gets hurt

Notes: I’ve never written for John B before so this is my first attempt.

Not beta read we die like men

WC: 1,370

John B Masterlist - OBX Masterlist

Your older brother had always been ridiculously overprotective of you, even more so now that your dad was missing at sea and DCS was threatening foster care. You needed a way to blow off some steam because John B’s helicopter mom routine was driving you insane. When Hurricane Agatha hit, you saw your opportunity for some fun, and you ran with it. Grabbing your surfboard, you snuck out of the chateau while everyone was storm-prepping and made your way to the beach.

 The swells were massive, but JJ had taught you everything he knew about surfing, and he was the best; even John B said so. As you raced out into the raging water, your excitement only grew. This is exactly what you needed. An adrenaline rush that nothing else could give you. Surfing the waves and getting tossed around in the storm, you were having the time of your life. You decided to go for one last run before you packed it in and made your way home. A massive wave headed your way, and you caught it easily, but the waves were unpredictable, especially in a storm, and you got rolled. When you went under the water, your leg hit something sharp, and the pain was immediate. You struggled to the surface, finding your board broken and having to fight your way back to shore. John B. was going to kill you if he found out.

 As you made your way back to the chateau, you hoped that the pogues would be asleep or at least distracted enough not to notice you limping into the house and bleeding everywhere. Luck seemed to be on your side when you found everyone asleep. You managed to make it to the bathroom past everyone’s sleeping forms and locked the door. The gash on your leg didn’t seem to be too deep, but it was definitely going to leave a nasty scar and hurt for a while. You patched yourself up as best as you could and managed to make it into your bedroom, where you collapsed and promptly passed out.

 You woke up to your brother smacking you over the head with a pillow. “Get up! We got a lot of shit to clean up, and we need all hands on deck!” Grumbling that he was an ass, you rolled over as he laughed while making his way outside. Slowly, you got up, but your leg was throbbing, and you had already started to bleed through the bandage you had put on last night. You hobbled into the bathroom to change out your bandage and take some pain killers. When you made it back to your room to get dressed, you realized you were going to have to wear long pants if you were going to have any chance of hiding what had happened.

 After getting dressed, you made your way outside to the rest of the pogues to start helping with the storm clean-up. You forced yourself not to limp, as you didn’t want to give any indication that something was wrong. As the day went on, your leg was getting worse, and it was getting harder to hide the fact that you were hurt. JJ and Kie had already started giving you weird looks, and you knew they were starting to suspect something was wrong. Everyone else was busy, so Pope asked for your help moving a particularly large branch that was blocking the twinkie. Begrudgingly, you sighed and made your way over to help, but as the two of you lifted the branch, your leg gave out, and you screamed as you fell to the ground. Pope panicked, managing to drop the branch away from you as the others came running over, hearing your scream.

 John B crouched next to you, frantically looking for any sign of injury but not seeing anything. “What’s wrong!?!? What happened? Are you hurt?” You tried to shrug him off, insisting that you were fine, but when you tried to stand up, your leg gave out again, causing you to fall. Your brother managed to catch you, stating that you are clearly not fine. He helped you over to the porch, setting you down. He glared down at you. “I swear to God, you need to tell me what is wrong, and don’t you dare say nothing because clearly you can’t walk.” You rolled your eyes and opened your mouth to respond when JJ piped up. "Dude, her leg is bleeding.” John B’s eyes snapped down to your leg, where a clearly visible patch of blood had started to form on your gray sweatpants.

 He crouched down, gently grabbing your leg, and lifted your pants leg to get a better look at what was going on. He thought you had cut yourself on a branch when you fell, but he wasn’t expecting to find an already bandaged wound that was clearly not from today. His head snapped up, making eye contact with you that you were trying to avoid. “What in the hell is this? What happened?” You rolled your eyes at his overly protective behavior. “It’s nothing, B. I’m fine.” “You are bleeding, and you can barely walk! Clearly, you are not fine! Now tell me what in the hell happened!”

 Sighing, you looked away from him, wrapping your arms around yourself. “I got hurt surfing yesterday.” A look of confusion passed over John B’s face. “When did you go surfing yesterday?” You looked up, accidentally making eye contact with JJ. A look of shock crossed JJ’s face, and before he could think, he shouted. “No way! You actually surfed the surge!?!?” Everyone’s heads snapped towards him, and he quickly held his hands up. “I’m just learning about this for the first time too.” John B quickly looked back at you, and you refused to look at him. “Is that true? Did you surf the surge? Do you know how dangerous that is? You could have seriously been hurt! You could have died!” He was going off on a rant, and you were already fed up. You finally looked at him and yelled. “This is why I didn’t tell you! You are so overprotective, and I knew you wouldn’t let me go! I just wanted to have some fun, and guess what? It was amazing! It was so much fun, and yes, I got hurt, but it was a fluke accident, and I didn’t tell you because I knew you would freak out and act like this! I know things are different now that dad is gone, but you are not my father; you are my brother!” You got up and limped your way into the house, leaving John B. stunned.

 You made your way to your bedroom, collapsing backward onto the bed. You sighed when you heard a knock at the door, but before you could say anything, John B walked in with a first-aid kit. He sat on your bed, pulling your leg into his lap, so he could change out the bandage and clean the wound. He worked silently, and when he was done, he finally looked at you. “I’m sorry. I know I’m not dad, and I know I have been a little overbearing lately, but I just can’t lose you. You’re all I have left, and even though you’re my pain in the ass, little sister, I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you.” Without saying anything, you sit up and wrap your arms around your brother. “I get it, B. I don’t know what I would do if I lost you either, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I got hurt.” Just then, your stomach started to grumble, causing John B to laugh. “Kie should be here any minute with some sandwiches. Let’s go eat.” As you made your way outside, everyone was already gathered on the front porch eating. You sat down next to Kie, who handed you your favorite sandwich. As you took your first bite, you heard JJ pipe up from where he was sitting in the hammock. “So for real, how bad ass was surfing the surge?” John B. smacked him across the chest as you laughed.

Tags: @mirellef2001

[withahappyrefrain]

NSFW Headcanon: almost getting caught with the person you allegedly hate

feels like this would be very Jake Seresin coded

"Fuck, sweetheart, feel so good." You want to slap that shit-eating grin off his face.

"Do you ever shut up?" You want to slap him. But you already knew he liked it, that it brought him pleasure.

And that's not what you're here to do. This is to blow off steam. To get yourself off.

And it would be much easier if he would just shut up.

"What's the matter? Worried others will walk in?" Did his teeth somehow get whiter? What was he practicing for, a dentist commercial? Did the Navy not pay enough.

"Yes, you fucking idiot, that's exactly what I'm afraid of!" You still your hips, not that you want to. But the walking Ken doll needs to shut up.

"God, I love it when you talk dirty."

How did you even get here? You hated Jake Seresin, couldn't stand him. Maybe it was the one too many margaritas you had. Penny always poured with a heavy hand.

Maybe it was the fact he wouldn't let off, continuing to comment that he could make you feel good.

That's how you found yourself riding your least favorite person in the bathroom of the Hard Deck.

You leaned forward, hands reaching up to his neck. His stupid thick neck, so thick you had to use both hands to wrap around it.

"Fuck, babe-" His eyes rolled to the back of his head at the motion.

"Of course you would like that, can feel your cock twitch. Fucking pathetic," you hissed.

Jake was having the time of his life. He always thought you were hot, with the way you were unafraid to take charge. And fuck, you felt amazing, bouncing up and down on his cock.

"I'm not even close to coming." That was a lie. You had never gotten to be the one on top in situations like this (not that you made fucking your least favorite person a habit) and it was exhilarating. And even worse, somehow the idiot's cock had managed to brush against the spot that made your eyelids flutter.

A sudden knock caused your blood to run cold.

"Razor?"

Why did Bob have the worst timing?

"Whatcha need Bob? Kinda busy here!" You slapped a hand over Jake's mouth, knowing damn well he couldn't contain himself. With the way the emerald green of his eyes were nearly gone, overtaken by blown irises, you'd say he almost enjoyed getting caught.

"We were worried Bagman made you leave!" Of course. They all saw you storm off. What they didn't see what Jake following you. What they didn't see (unfortunately) you slapping him, nor did they hear the moan he let out.

"No, that little shit isn't bringing me down. I'm just uh decompressing!" You nearly let out a gasp when you felt a pair of teeth tug at one of your hardening nipples. You looked down and sure enough, there was the man of the hour, sitting up and mouthing at your breasts.

"Alright, I'll leave you be."

Thank God. Because you were downright embarrassed by the moan you let you out when Jake's hands began raising your hips up and down on his cock.

"Aww Razor, sound so pretty when you have my cock in ya." You tugged on his stupidly blonde hair, hard enough for a hiss to fall from his lips.

"Shut up and make me come already."

"With pleasure."