#x fem reader

[whatistheeverdict]

hey just a reminder! x fem reader is NOT the default

tag your x readers as fem if they are. you’re being an asshole and making it impossible to find gn readers (which should be THE DEFAULT) by refusing to tag. every other x reader gender is tagged. tag your fucking fics bro.

I hate how 99% of fics are fem reader, so nobody tags them anymore. nothing worse than getting 90% through a fic and getting misgendered bc the author was a dick and didn’t tag

[mvntisboy]

tamsy overstimulates you so much you try to run

cw: smut :: unprotected sex :: overstimulation :: degrading praise if u squint :: author's notes at the end :: wc - 900

tamsy caines ✗ fem!reader

"where do you think you're going?"

tamsy grabs onto your hips, sliding you back down the mattress until your lower body snaps flush against his hips, burying his cock all the way back inside your oversensitive pussy.

you’ve tried to run three times aleady, weak limbs trembling and scrambling on the sheets in pitiful attempts to break free from his torture, all to no avail.

“tamsy, please!” a whine tears out of you before you can stop it, followed by a sigh of pure exhaustion. your heart beats frantically against your ribs, the intense sensory overload causing more tears to prick at the corners of your eyes. “no more… n-no more,” you sniffle. “I can't— please, no more—”

“liar.” he taunts, his thumb finding your clit to rub it in fast circles while his hips continue to snap against yours, the wet, filthy slap of your bodies meeting echoing in the quiet room. he’s relentless, knees deep in the mattress as he reduces you to a cockdrunk writhing mess, each thrust meant to leave you with nothing to focus on except the pleasure he’s forcing into you.

“nononono i can’t, s’too much—” you whine.

“you can. you've done it before, haven't you? you're gonna keep coming for me until i say you can stop."

you're a complete wreck now - lightheaded and sobbing openly under him, every muscle in your body coiled tight and begging for a break. your inner walls pulse and clench rhythmically around tamsy's cock, swallowing the thick length with every ruthless thrust of his hips.

“i hate you!” you wail, your hands coming to hit and push at his scarred chest. “i hate you, i hate you, i hate you!”

"woah, woah—" tamsy’s eyes widen in false offense, his hips and thumb stilling altogether, allowing you a fleeting moment of relief. "no, no, no, don't be like that. don't say such things." he coos, reaching out to swipe his thumb underneath your eye, wiping away a stray tear. "you wound me, princess. all that screaming and whining but i don't recall hearing your safe word, do you?"

before you can gather a breath to retort, tamsy drives his hips forward, slamming into you so deep you swear it makes you black out for a second. a shocked moan punches out of you - your eyes rolling back in your skull and drool dripping from the corner of your lips as your mind goes entirely blank, thoughts turning into complete mush.

"besides..." he muses, holding himself on his arms and leaning down just long enough to press a sweet kiss to your cheek. "i think you’re enjoying yourself a lot more than you’re willing to admit." a slow, arrogant smirk curves his mouth as he smoothes his thumb over your lower lip. "you should be thanking me, i'm just being a good boyfriend and spoiling you.”

he's so infuriatingly calm as he taunts you, looking down as he brings his thumb back to your clit and goes back to toying with it, blinking calmly like the sight barely even affects him.

for the past hour, every time he felt himself edging too close to his own release you’ve watched him switch tactics - his cock withdrawing so he could torment your clit with his mouth or finger you instead, only sinking back in when his orgasm was successfully kept at bay.

he refuses to let himself come until he’s stripped away every last thread of your sanity, maintaining a terrifying level of restraint while you're trapped in the same continuous loop of torture, orgasm after orgasm being ripped out of you mercilessly.

“no— nonono, it's too much!" you hiccup. "tamsy I can't take any more—” you try again, shaking your head furiously as your legs start to close and kick. your elbows dig into the mattress as you try to pull yourself away again, a fresh wave of tears blurring your vision and falling down your cheeks, your muscles trembling so violently you can barely control them.

a low, amused snicker bubbles up from tamsy’s chest as he watches you miserably fail another attempt to run from him, his hands clamping tightly around your hips to drag you right back where you belong.

“shh-shh-shh. either be good or say the magic word, angel. it's that easy.”

he starts fucking you again, giving a series of fast thrusts that immediately silence you. one of his hands wraps around your throat to keep you pinned firmly to the mattress, the other continuing to rub your clit, gradually building a fifth— or is it sixth? orgasm. your legs have a mind of their own at this point, shaking uncontrollably in the air, toes curling, the depth of his thrusts shattering whatever remnant of self control you had left.

his cock eventually slips free, dragged out by the sheer amount of slick between you. the sudden emptiness causes you to cry out, your hands flying down instinctively to shield your swollen pussy from his gaze.

“put it back in.” tamsy commands smoothly, still impossibly composed, chest barely even heaving.

a tiny humiliated whine escapes your throat but your hand responds to his voice like muscle memory, fingers trembling as they obediently reach further down to guide the thick, weeping head of his cock right back to your entrance.

tamsy watches you do it, that sadistic smirk of his spreading across his face as he sheaths himself all the way back into your warmth.

“see? you dumb little liar, can't even get enough.” he purrs, rubbing your clit one last time before bringing the slick pad of his thumb to his mouth to taste you. “come on now. give me another one so i can fill you up.”

an: writing smutty dialogues in english when it's not your native language is a whole new level of torture ngl,, anyways that man is so pretty it infuriates me.

[mvntisboy]

im going to open requests for tokyo revengers characters ! im open to write for shinichiro, wakasa, takeomi & south !

i'll prioritize takeomi requests though bc i need this man sooo badly and there's isn't a single fanfic of him out here

[user01031978]

The hard choice ౨ৎ

fem!reader x both

summery: you fuck both of them at different times, and obviously, they don't know that

tags: smut with eventual plot/background, catching feelings, couch sex, semi-public sex, fluff and humor, kisses, soft peter and wade for you, jealousy, bed sex, them being whipped for you, eventual drama, fingerfucking, dry humping, misunderstanding,

(flashbacks are in block italics)

part two here.

Peter Parker—or rather, Spider-Man—was perched on the edge of a rooftop, classic him, dangling his legs in the empty air as he waited for Wade to show up.

They had been meeting up like this for a while now. Peter didn't have any friends left, so Wade made him feel special. At the very least, it gave him a chance to talk to someone who also had powers.

Well, it wasn't like he was completely alone... there was you.

You were his neighbor in that cramped, run-down little apartment building, and the two of you had helped each other get through the rough days more times than you could count. It wasn't like you were deeply in love or anything, but one thing led to another, and one day you found yourself in Peter’s bed.

That day was incredible. It felt completely different because he actually let his guard down and opened up to you.

Too bad about how it ended.

Peter gently grabbed your waist, sliding inside you slowly, as if he were terrified of breaking you.

​“Ah— God— You feel so good,” he groaned against your ear, his voice hitching. He stayed still for a moment, always so incredibly gentle and careful. You wrapped your arms around his back, feeling the solid line of his muscles beneath your fingertips. You already knew he was in shape, but seeing him completely bare above you—with those toned pecs and defined biceps—was a whole different story.

​“You’re so beautiful, Peter Parker,” you whispered back into his ear. A deep blush immediately crept up his neck; he hadn’t received a compliment in... well, a very long time.

​“Are you ready?” he asked, looking down at you. You nodded, holding his gaze.

​When he started moving, it was incredible. You felt completely filled. “Oh God—” Peter kept groaning, burying his face in the crook of your neck, leaving breathless kisses wherever his lips landed. Needing more, you gripped his shoulders and firmly pulled him down, rolling over so you were sitting on top of him. You looked down at him; he looked so innocent, and you wanted nothing more than to make him feel good.

​As you began to move, the pace grew faster, and Peter couldn't hold back his groans. His hands gripped your hips tightly; they felt so cold against your warm skin (probably because the heating in his apartment barely worked), and his eyes were wide, completely spellbound by you. When you leaned down to kiss him, he met your lips with breathless hunger, and when you ran your fingers through his messy hair, he leaned into your palm, practically craving that touch, that affection. You didn't know much about Peter’s past, but that night, you realized just how lonely he really was.

​Once it was over, Peter couldn't seem to let you go.

​“If you want... we could watch a movie,” he suggested, standing in his small living room. He was wearing nothing but boxers and a t-shirt, looking at you with the hopeful eyes of a puppy. You were already dressed, and both of you knew you were about to leave—even if "leaving" just meant going to the apartment right across the hall.

​“You don't even have a DVD player, Peter,” you said, a soft smile tugging at your lips. It was incredibly endearing.

​“Right. Yeah—I know... but there's always something on TV, maybe—”

​“Why don't you just come over to my place? I have a DVD player and some horror movies.”

​The second the words left your mouth, a genuine smile broke across Peter's face. He looked so incredibly relieved that you weren't just abandoning him. “Oh—sure! Yeah—I'll be right there.”

​“Peter.”

​“Yeah?”

​“At least put some pants on. It’s freezing at my place, too.”

​He looked down, and a violent, embarrassed blush instantly rushed to his face. “Right—yeah. Wait for me here, I’ll be right back.”

​Needless to say, you ended up doing it again at your place halfway through the movie, but that night, Peter didn't go back to his empty apartment. He slept tangled up with you, and that was a night he would never be able to forget.

You made it through half of the movie before Peter pushed you back against the cushions of your couch. He was so much more desperate this time—less hesitant than your first time together.

“I can't stop wanting to touch you,” he muttered against your lips, his voice raspy as his large, calloused hands gripped your thighs, pinning your legs over his shoulders.

He sank back inside you with a sharp intake of breath, a harsh groan tearing from his throat. “Ah— God, you’re so tight...”

The sheer contrast between his super-strength and his frantic attempt to stay gentle was intoxicating. You could feel every muscle in his back and core flexing tightly as he set a fast, relentless pace, the couch squeaking rhythmically beneath you while his hot breath hit your collarbone.

“Peter— faster,” you gasped, tugging at his hair.

“Yeah— sure” he breathed out, his eyes dark with desire as he thrust deeper, holding nothing back. “You’re driving me crazy...”

He didn't let up until you were both gasping, completely spent, your skin slick with sweat in the cool air of the room.

Afterward, he pulled the thin blanket over the two of you, trapping you underneath him on the narrow couch. His bare chest pressed heavily against your back, one arm wrapped tight around your waist to keep you pinned to his body.

“Don’t go anywhere,” he whispered softly into the crook of your neck, his erection still resting semi-hard against your rear as his breathing slowly evened out into sleep—a constant, heavy reminder of just how deeply he couldn't get enough of you.

​In the morning, Peter made breakfast, and you woke up to the sweet, warm scent of freshly made pancakes. You had no idea where he had even found the ingredients, considering your kitchen was mostly empty.

​“Hey, sorry if I woke you up. I just wanted to make some breakfast, and—”

​“Thank you, you’re a sweetheart,” you murmured, walking over to press a soft kiss to his cheek. He blushed slightly, looking down.

​You both sat down and began to eat, wrapped in a comfortable, quiet silence.

​“So, what—”

​“Peter, there’s something I need to tell you…” you cut in, taking a breath. “I honestly didn't expect things to go the way they did last night. I’ve always liked you, you're an amazing guy... but I have feelings for someone else, too. Actually, I've been seeing him.” You got it all out in one breath.

​“So—”

​“Of course I want to keep hanging out with you, I like you so much. But I’m conflicted, I... I'm sorry. I just wanted to be honest with you. Before I officially commit to someone, I need to be sure.”

​“I—okay,” Peter replied. His answer was simple, but his mind was racing.

​She should choose me. Who could possibly be better than Spider-Man?

​The sheer selfishness of the thought startled him. He had never thought of himself that way before.

​But he wasn't angry or bitter. After months of unspoken tension, you had finally crossed that line. Given how chaotic things were, you could have easily been taken, but Peter only saw this as a small hurdle. He could handle it. He would do whatever it took to win you over.

Just like that, Peter couldn’t get you out of his head, especially after everything you two had shared. You had made him feel loved, cared for, and—finally—not forgotten.

​“Hey, Spidey! What’s with the gloomy-and-doomy vibe?” Deadpool announced, practically skipping toward him as he arrived. He seemed incredibly cheerful, almost different from his usual self.

​“How can you even tell I’m being thoughtful? I’m literally wearing a mask,” Peter sighed, turning his head slightly. He was no longer dangling his legs over the ledge, but he was still sitting right on the edge of the roof.

​“Oh, please, Spidey—I’ve known you long enough to read your body language. And right now, you look like you’re either deep in thought... or deep in someone,” Wade said, sauntering over. His tone was surprisingly upbeat and hopeful, like a guy who had just won the lottery.

​“And what about you? What’s with the happy-go-lucky attitude?” Peter shot back, observing him.

​“How can you even tell? I’m literally wearing a mask,” Wade repeated with a grin you could practically hear, making Peter roll his eyes beneath his fabric lenses.

​“Well, unlike me, you’re literally skipping with joy. Did you find a stray twenty-dollar bill or—”

​“Okay, okay, I’ll tell you!” Wade said, bursting with euphoria as he plopped down right next to him.

​“Yesterday, I met my soulmate!”

​“...What?”

​“Yes! She exists!”

​Peter was genuinely taken aback, but a part of him was happy for Wade. They had both been single for what felt like an eternity, and for Wade to find the right person at the exact same time Peter was finally finding his own footing—it felt like a bizarre stroke of luck.

​“How did—”

​“So, it all started with…”

It was late at night, and the convenience store where you worked was still open. You were restocking products on the shelves when, right on cue, he arrived.

Deadpool had been stopping by almost every single day lately, and you’d gotten completely used to it. He was always cracking jokes, talking a mile a minute, and being his usual hyperactive self, but you’d never found him annoying or dangerous. Honestly, you suspected he was flirting with you, though you couldn’t say for sure. At the very least, he kept you company. Up until that day, you’d assumed he was just some guy in a costume who roamed the streets at night out of pure boredom—like some hardcore cosplayer.

But tonight was different.

When he walked in and the little bell above the door chimed, you knew it was him, but he didn’t immediately drop one of his cheesy pickup lines. It was quiet. Too quiet.

You turned around, and your breath hitched. He was clutching his midsection, barely breathing, with a tiny knife plunged straight into his abdomen.

“Oh, my God! What happened?” you gasped, completely losing your mind. The guy was bent over, wheezing. “I’m calling an ambulance!” you said, already sprinting toward the counter phone.

“No! No! Wait!” he choked out, coughing harshly. He stumbled, looking like he was about to collapse, but somehow kept his footing. “Come here... just for a second,” he wheezed, looking like he was on his deathbed.

“But—”

“Please,” he muttered, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

You rushed over, wrapping one of his arms around your shoulders and securing your hand around his waist to help support his weight, guiding him away from the glass entrance. Surprisingly, he let you lead him, and you managed to get him into the small backroom of the store. You had him sit down on a stack of cardboard boxes, and that’s when you noticed the smear of blood he’d left behind.

“Oh God—what do I do? I’ve never patched anyone up, I—” you stammered, panic rising in your chest.

“Don’t worry about it... at least you’re here with me,” he said, letting out another dramatic cough.

“But who did this to you?”

“Some guy... wearing a spider-mask...”

“Wait, you blamed me?!” Peter interrupted, giving Wade a gentle shove.

Deadpool just chuckled. “Hey, I had a lot on my mind, okay? You’re my muse, Spidey! Who else was I gonna blame? Now shush, let me finish.”

“A guy in a spider-mask? This is not the time to joke, you’re literally dying!” you cried, crouching down next to him. Blood was still oozing around the little knife wedged in his stomach. “Doesn’t it hurt?”

“Nah, not when you’re on the brink of death... I—hey, can you grant a dying man his final wish?”

You nodded frantically, not even thinking twice. “Anything.”

“Can you kiss me?”

You hesitated for a split second. But honestly, the guy was dying, his mask was still on, and under all that chaos, you’d always had a bit of a crush on him... so you started to lean in. Inopportune as always, he eagerly tilted his head forward, as if he couldn’t wait another second. You pressed your lips against the red fabric covering his mouth. It was sweet and chaste, but it clearly wasn’t enough for your masked friend.

When you tried to pull back, his hand shot out and gently grabbed yours. “That’s it? For a guy on his deathbed? You’re brutal, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes, but as you looked down, you noticed the tiny knife lying uselessly on the floor—and his suit was completely intact, with no blood or wound in sight.

“What the—was this all a joke?!” You stood up abruptly.

Realizing his cover was blown, Wade scrambled to grab the tiny knife off the floor, jumping to his feet. “No—wait! It’s not what it looks like!”

“Oh, really? Then what is it? Because you literally just faked your own death! I was actually worried about you!” you nearly yelled, your heart still pounding.

Wade stared at you, and for the very first time since you’d met him, he seemed completely lost for words. The silence in the backroom was deafening.

“You... you were worried about me?” he asked quietly.

“Yes! Obviously!” You threw your hands up. “But why on earth would you do something so stupid?!”

“Because it was the only way I could think of to get a kiss from you, since you’d never like me back anyway,” he muttered.

The confession hung heavily in the air, suddenly making the tiny room feel incredibly small. You stared at him, feeling a pang of hurt. “What are you even talking about?”

“Haven’t you noticed? I’ve been throwing myself at you for months, and you barely even look at me. At least... well, actually, now that I say it out loud, it was a terrible plan. Don’t worry, I’ll get out of your hair. You’ll never have to see me again. God, this is so embarrassing,” he rambled, turning around to leave.

“But if you like me so much, why didn’t you just ask me out on a proper date?” you asked.

Wade froze, turning back to look at you, completely bewildered. “Would you have said yes?”

“Well, I would’ve thought about it, and then yeah, I would have.”

In the blink of an eye, Wade closed the distance between you. He gently pressed you back against the shelves of the storeroom and captured your lips, kissing you desperately through the fabric of his mask. He clearly hadn’t thought the logistics through.

“You want to go out with me, and you haven’t even told me your name yet,” you whispered, pulling back just enough to breathe.

“I—it’s Wade. Wade Wilson.”

“Wade,” you murmured, reaching up to cup his jaw, feeling the fabric under your palms. “Why do you keep the mask on?”

“I...”

“Wait.” Before he could pull away, you gently slid the bottom of his mask up, just enough to expose his mouth and jaw. You noticed his skin was different—scarred, uneven, textured—but you didn't care.

Without a second thought, you leaned in and kissed him again, softly and deeply, directly on his lips. Wade’s eyes widened behind his mask, completely stunned by the touch.

“There,” you smiled, pulling back just a fraction to look at him. “Isn’t that much better?”

​Wade didn't say a word. He was completely mesmerized, staring at you before leaning back in. This time, he kissed you deeper, harder—as if he’d finally found his courage—forcing his tongue past your lips. You had never seen him this vulnerable, completely stripped of his quick comebacks and defense mechanisms. It was incredibly endearing.

​His gloved hand slid down to the button of your jeans, and you gave him a small nod, letting him proceed. He slipped his hand inside your underwear, his fingers immediately finding you. You actually didn't mind the fabric of the glove, not when you felt it rubbing so perfectly against your clit. You arched into his hand, seeking more friction. As you kissed him, you could feel how hot his skin was, his tongue burning against yours, but it felt amazing.

​Eventually, he pulled the glove off, throwing it aside, and slid two fingers inside you. Wade groaned into your mouth, and you felt the textured, scarred skin of his bare hand. You didn't care about it at all. You kept moving against him until he finally made you come right there on his fingers, your soft whimpers muffled by his lips as he kept kissing you through it.

​You could feel his erection pressing hard against your thigh.

​“Wade... dry hump me,” you gasped, breathless and desperate.

​Wade didn't need to be told twice; he was already losing his mind. He pressed himself tightly against you, rubbing hard, his mouth moving down to mark your neck with warm, bruising hickeys. He was trying to be gentle, but he was rough around the edges, driven by a desperate, overwhelming need. Every time you felt his clothed cock sliding against you, you couldn’t help but wonder what he would feel like completely bare. You gripped his ass, pulling him even closer, and a loud groan escaped his chest.

​When he finally came, it was intense—so much so that his red suit ended up soaked, leaving a dark, damp circle through the fabric. He pulled his mouth away from yours, both of your lips slick with spit. You were a beautiful, sticky mess together, because you were completely soaked too.

​“You wanna... come back to my place?” he asked, his voice still a little raspy.

​“I can't right now. My shift isn't over yet, but—”

​“I can stay with you! I can help you restock the ice cream freezer,” he offered hastily, desperate to keep you close.

​“But it ends in about half an hour, so you can just wait for me,” you finished, gently cutting him off.

​“Oh. Right. Yeah, of course,” he said, stepping back a bit and pulling his mask back down over his face.

​“You know... I like you better without the mask, Wade. You’re cute.”

​The moment you said it, he let out a nervous chuckle, assuming you were joking. But when he saw the serious, genuine look in your eyes, his laughter died down.

​“I—I’ll wait for you outside,” he mumbled.

​He snatched his glove off the floor and actually went to wait outside, his heart hammering against his ribs. It had been a long, long time since anyone had looked at him like that, accepting him without a trace of disgust. For the first time in forever, he felt a genuine spark of hope.

​Once you finally got to his place, you did it again—fully this time, no masks, no walls between you. You accepted every single part of him.

​The next morning, he walked you back to your building so you could change and shower. Before going inside, you decided to be honest: you told him there was another guy you liked, and that you were currently seeing both of them.

​Wade didn't get upset. Honestly, he kept his options open too, and he certainly wasn't worried about losing to some random neighbor.

​He just smirked, told you he’d text you later, and you smiled, telling him that sounded like a plan.

​“Spidey, I’m telling you, she’s the one. I can feel it in my deformed little heart.”

​“So, are you guys official now, or does she still have to choose between you and the other guy?” Peter asked, suddenly feeling a bit pensive.

​“Well... not official yet. But we will be. I’ve got a good feeling about it,” Wade said, shrugging. “We’re just dating for now. What about you?”

​“Oh. Uh—pretty much the same thing,” Peter muttered, staring at his boots. “I’m seeing this girl, but we’re not exclusive yet. And she’s... she’s seeing someone else too, I think.”

​An awkward, heavy silence fell over the rooftop. It was as if a sudden, terrifying realization had crossed both of their minds at the exact same time, but neither of them wanted to be the first to say it out loud.

​“It’s just that—” Peter started.

​“Wait, is she by any chance—” Wade cut in.

​“Uh, you go first,” Peter said quickly.

​“No, no, Spidey-boy, after you.”

​Peter cleared his throat. “Does she... work at the convenience store near 48th?”

​Wade’s posture went completely rigid. “I—uh. Yeah. Yeah, she does. How did you—”

​“No reason. It’s just... my girl works there too.”

​“Right. Coincidence.”

​“Yeah. Total coincidence.”

​They sat there for a few agonizing seconds, the silence absolutely deafening.

​“I should probably head out—” Peter blurted.

​“I think I left my oven on—” Wade said at the exact same time, scrambling to his feet.

​“Good luck with her,” Wade said, his voice unusually tight as he backed away.

​“Yeah... you too.”

​The moment they turned their backs to each other, both of them snatched their phones out of their suits and began typing furiously.

You received two messages at the same time.

[sakur4ii]

ok, I know I'm really annoying with all my ideas and that I still haven't written any fanfics 😭, but I don't know why I can't seem to finish writing them, I'm sorry.

This one is One Piece x Fem!Reader (I need to start writing more for gender-neutral readers, sorry.)

I've been thinking about this idea for weeks now that I'm caught up on the manga. And it's Reader who is reincarnated into a family of Celestial Dragons. You've been reincarnating in a child, your family is trying to train you to become a Knight of God when you grow up; you come up with a plan to escape when Fisher Tiger frees the slaves, etc.

You HATE the Celestial Dragons; you can't stand them; you can't bear to see the injustices they commit; you can't stand how privileged they are; and you can't believe that you're now lumped in with them.

In an attempt to make you a counterpart to Shanks, I thought that a slave would be the one to give you a scar on your eye that's identical to the redhead's—the only difference being that it was on your right eye. And when that slave rebels, they kill him right in front of you—the first time you’ve ever seen someone killed with your own eyes—and it changes you forever. Your greatest desire now is the downfall of the world government and the extinction of the Celestial Dragons, but since you’re only between 5 and 7 years old, there’s nothing you can do.

Here's what sparked this idea: I imagined Reader and Shamrock in a father-daughter relationship—a sort of "found family" that Reader doesn't reciprocate. It's a complicated relationship.

Shamrock finds you entertaining; he thinks your silences—which he associates with shyness—are funny, and he’s amused by your expressions of displeasure or indifference when he tells you his stories (he assumes they’re because you hate commoners and doesn’t realize that you hate his actions). He invites you to go for walks, to eat mer together, and has even become your sword-fighting instructor in his spare time. The other Celestial Dragons assume he wants you as his future wife or that he’s practicing for when he becomes a father. No one realizes that, to him, you’re already like a daughter and that he’s reconsidering whether to ask your family to let him take care of you in exchange for a reward.

Another thing I thought of is that Reader might have a Devil Fruit that gives her powers like MeiMei's Cursed Technique. I imagine that your mom, for example, secretly gives you a devil's fruit and you learn to see through the eyes of crows that you can create, or I don't know. But yeah, you have some crows in various places around Mary Geoise, so you know things.

When Shanks arrives on Mary Geoise, he spends time with Shamrock—which also means spending time with you—and he does realize that you don't like Shamrock. (But he also realizes that, in a way, you care about him, and that you've come to see him as a sort of father figure.)

Shanks isn't all that surprised that you're asking him to take you away from Mary Geoise right after he freed Fisher Tiger, and he doesn't refuse either. Even though you're just a little girl, you seem to know exactly what you want.

So you end up on an island, find people to keep training with because you already have a plan, and blah blah blah.

Shamrock is DEVASTATED by your disappearance—more devastated than your own family.

He’s searched for you far and wide but can’t find you, and suddenly his duties as a Knight of God have increased, leaving him no time to keep looking for you. But he hopes you’re okay and that you haven’t left him of your own accord; he can’t help but think you’ve been kidnapped.

The rest of the Celestial Dragons secretly believe that you have betrayed them and that you are a disgrace to your family, but they don't dare say it out loud.

When you were 19, you met the Straw Hats in Jaya. You weren't sure if they'd let you join them, but at least you could get to know them and let them know they could count on you as an ally. At the time, you didn't realize that simply showing Luffy that you believed in his dream, that you were interested in adventures, and that you also believed in the sky island was enough for him to decide he wanted you on the crew (not to mention that you looked strong).

It’s also worth mentioning that at that time, you had mastered swordplay, Observation Haki, and a little bit of Armor Haki, although you sometimes forget to activate it on your sword. Fun fact: Your sword has a red hilt; you chose it subconsciously because it reminded you of Shamrock’s hair.

Let’s also say that you can fight hand-to-hand and that you’re quite agile—you move like a gymnast. This is because you knew you couldn’t always rely on a weapon, and also partly for fun.

You fit right in with the crew; you find a family in them, and they become your best friends. You never tell them where you’re from or about your family—you only talk to them about the people who trained you (I’m thinking of a couple, where each one taught you different things; they even told you that someday you might be able to use Conqueror’s Haki, but they couldn’t teach you, so you decided that someday you’d find someone to teach you—or at least explain how it works—since you don’t remember those little details from the anime/manga).

My reasoning for why you have Conqueror's Haki is that you were reincarnated for two reasons: to help overthrow the Celestial Dragons and the World Government, and to make Luffy the Pirate King. 😛

Well, then it occurred to me that during the time skip, you trained to strengthen your Conqueror's Haki (which you awakened sometime between Water 7 and Sabaody) and to better master your Armor Haki, although it did cross my mind that you continued to train physically to increase your speed and strength as well 🤔.

When the crew reunites, there's a change in both Sanji's and your bounty posters—now both include your last name, and you're both wanted Only Alive.

But for some strange reason, your last name isn't the same as your Celestial Dragon family's; the last name listed in the bounty poster is "Figarland."

Obviously, this horrifies you, because if your family was already bad enough, being labeled a Figarland now is literally hell. You had to explain to your crew that you have absolutely nothing to do with that last name and that it must be a mistake.

(Just a quick note to say that I forgot to mention that your role in the Straw Hat crew is to be the informant—since, with your crows, you see and hear everything. Luffy and you agreed that unless he or someone else asks, you won’t say anything so as not to spoil the surprises of the adventures. You’ve also realized that the One Piece universe has adapted to you without changing the main story.)

Well, Shamrock convinced your family to turn you in in exchange for a reward, and he convinced his father to let him change your wanted poster. You're officially Shamrock's daughter, and nobody's objecting to it, lol.

He discovered that the crows that were secretly circling Mary Geoise when you were still young were yours, since they disappeared along with you, and because there are reports from marines about out-of-control crows attacking them—and it just so happens that you and your crew are involved.

So I imagine that on Elbaf, Shamrock isn't surprised to see a raven following him—in fact, he finds it amusing. You don’t warn anyone about the presence of the Knights of God—you already knew they were coming and you know their plans, but you don’t know how revealing their presence so early might affect things. In any case, you’d only be bringing the fight forward prematurely. So while you accompany Zoro, Luffy, and Nami to find the key that will free Loki, you’re also keeping a close eye on the intruders’ every move.

And that's where this ends because, even though I'm up to date with the manga, I don't feel like continuing with this—since Shamrock hasn't shown up again, and I don't want to speculate.

BONUS:

-Shanks talked about you with Gaban and Rayleigh, because he had even begun to doubt his decision to help you escape. So Rayleigh and Gaban recognized you when they saw you based on Shanks' description, but they didn't give you away as a Celestial Dragon.

-Luffy, Robin, and Zoro already suspect that you’re a Celestial Dragon, but they haven’t said anything. They know you’re not a bad person and that, besides, you’re not at all proud of your past or your family; you’re trying to erase that part of your life, and they’re going to respect that. Luffy suspects it because Rayleigh hinted at it. Zoro noticed your unease at Sabaody, and Robin has actually already confirmed it based on the last name on your bounty poster—though she does believe you when you say that’s not your real last name.

-When Shanks happens to see your bounty after seeing Luffy’s, and realizes that you now have the same last name as him, he begins to wonder if you’re his sister and he just didn’t realize it all those years ago. Then he remembers how fatherly Shamrock was toward you and that you had a different last name and a different family, and he feels sorry for you because he can now assume that Shamrock is behind this and that you’re doomed—since this means you’re now officially part of the Figarland family, against your will😔.

-In Dressrosa, Sabo asked you about your last name. The Revolutionary Army had known for a long time that you were a Celestial Dragon, but they were certain that your family wasn’t the Figarland family. You had to explain to him that you didn’t know why they’d put that last name on your bounty poster, and you had to swear to him that you wouldn’t betray Luffy. You told him that you wanted to bring down the World Government and the Celestial Dragons, and that you’d chosen to side with Luffy to do that. He laughed and told you that you didn’t seem to be the only one.

OMG FINALLY I'VE BEEN ABLE TO GET THIS OFF MY CHEST 😭😭😭😭

Actually, there's a lot more to it, but this is the basic idea. If I ever decide to explore it further in writing, it'll be in a fanfic, but as always, I'M NOT PROMISING ANYTHING

[xthemandalorianx]

Just be with me

Caleb Widogast x Fem Reader

AN: Hello everyone! Sorry I went ghost for a bit. We will call this my birthday present to myself because my birthday was a couple days ago and Caleb holds a special place in my heart and there is a lacking of fics for him. I have a smut scene for this fic written out, I might post it on its own but idk yet. As always thanks for reading and i hope you enjoy! Xoxo

Disclaimer: Readers abilities are based off of my D&D character, I don't own Caleb or the Mighty Nein. I also do not know German so if a translation is wrong I'm sorry.

Summary: Sometimes it's easier to just know things, but sometimes feelings become too strong to ignore

Rating: Fluff, suggestive themes, nudity, if I forgot something I'm sorry

Main Masterlist Here

“Cheers to The Mighty Nein! The greatest heroes who ever lived!” Jester says loudly pulling Nott closer to her, in her free hand a pint of ale swings wildly around, some of the contents spilling to the ground. “Ahh- Jester! Could you try to be a bit more careful?” Nott says pulling away from Jester slightly to wipe off the stray drops of ale now on her.

You sat across the booth watching them with a smile, it was nice to finally relax after all the excitement your group has endured lately. Molly was across the bar flirting with the pretty barmaid and Fjord was sitting next to Jester who was now singing along loudly with Nott. Beau and Yasha were sitting in the far corner of the booth next to you, both drunk and whispering to themselves sweetly. Everyone was happy for once; there was only one missing from your group though–

“Where's Caleb??” Jester said loudly looking around the bar for the red-haired sorcerer. “He said he needed some fresh air so he went outside,” Nott said, taking a sip from her drink before sharply looking in her direction. “Don't even think about bothering him!” She said pointing a finger at Jester, who shrugged before going back to singing- now leaning on Fjord who was blushing slightly. She was wasted. You smiled behind your cup, your thoughts drifting to the red-haired man in question. A small flush rose to your cheeks and you hoped none of your group saw, you could just blame it on the ale or the cold if you had to.

You had been in love with Caleb for as long as you can remember, it's been a couple years at least. He was just so sweet and charming- he was also incredibly handsome, it also did not help that every time he looked at you with his crystal blue eyes your knees decided to not want to work. When he would compliment you it would leave you stammering like you did not know how to speak- it was quite pathetic. The worst part was that you knew he had feelings for you too. It was driving you crazy to just- know.

You stood, shaking your head to yourself softly, your eyes falling to the stairs that led up to the balcony where you had seen Caleb disappear earlier in the evening. You stand to make your way to the bar to grab a drink, smiling sheepishly as you approach. Molly was whispering something in the barmaid's ear, whatever he was saying had her blushing and giggling profusely. As you sat your cup on the counter, she smiled at Molly with a blush still on her face before grabbing your cup to turn and refill it.

You felt eyes on you as you waited and you turned to see Molly staring at you, his chin resting in his hand as usual– he also had a slight smirk on his face. “Looking for our wizard?” He said teasingly before eyeing you up and down, noticing the slight squirm at the mention of Caleb–damn him and his ability to read people easily. “Why don't you just tell him how you feel?” He said with a smirk on his face, you could hear the tease in his voice. Your eyes almost popped out of your head and you turned your face away so he couldn't see you blush, “what?! No no no, I don't know what you're talking about,” you say- though the blush that forms on your face and neck say otherwise.

Molly raises an eyebrow in suspicion, clearly not buying it, he barks out a small laugh before covering his eyes with his hands, dramatically running them down his face like he was in agony. “It's so painful watching the two of you run around like lovestruck fools for each other, Caleb acts like a drunk idiot every time you enter the room- and you cannot form a proper sentence when he compliments you!” He said in an exasperated tone. “That is not even the start of it though!” He added “-and don't get me started on the sexual ten-” you throw your hands up in a plea for him to stop, “Okay! Okay, I guess we are pretty pathetic aren't we?” You say with a small huff of a laugh, bringing your now filled cup to your lips, smiling at the truth behind Molly's words. He was right, you and Caleb had danced around each other for what seemed like forever. Both of you were scared to let the other in completely, but you always found yourself gravitating to him. You both knew deep down but just could not bring yourselves to just be together. It was safer to just…know.

You avoid Molly's gaze, he smiles at you fondly reaching a hand across the bar to grab yours, squeezing it reassuringly. “Go to him and just tell him love- you already know what the answer will be.” You nod slowly, asking the barmaid for a second drink before making your way upstairs where you had last seen him disappear earlier.

Caleb stood apart from the party inside, leaning on the railing. He looked out at the falling snow, his expression unreadable, a mixture of melancholy and peace on his face. The door opened behind him, and he didn't need to turn to know who had sought him out in the quiet. He had been aware of your presence all evening, then again he always was when it came to you. He gestures with his head towards the city below without looking at you. "It is a different view from up here. Less... loud." He turns his head slightly, his blue eyes catching the reflected light from the snow. It sent a shiver down your spine. "Would you care to join me?” He said softly, his lips tugging into a smile- the one that made your heart do a flip in your chest.

You smile, hesitating slightly before stepping out to join him. "If it's not too much trouble, I do not think I can take anymore of Nott and Jesters’ drunk singing,” finally joining him out in the cold, “but I did come bearing gifts." You say with a bright smile, holding up the pints, reaching to set one in front of him on the railing before setting yours down so you could lean forward on the railing to stare out at the city, taking a deep breath to steady your heartbeat which was out of control. You can do this.

Caleb huffs a quiet laugh through his nose, picking up the cup to bring it to his lips, "Ja, they are... enthusiastic, to say the least. Though I suppose it is better than Nott's usual threats to steal people's buttons." He leans against the railing beside you, his shoulder just barely brushing yours.

"This snow reminds me of Blumenthal. Not the city, but... the quiet moments." His voice is softer now, gaze distant. Then he blinks, as if catching himself, and glances at you with a self-deprecating smile. "Apologies, I did not mean to darken the mood.”

You smile fondly at him, glancing back out at the snow covered landscape, "the snow reminds me of the mountains back home, before my parents died. I was too little to really remember them but what I do remember is the snow most of all... " You say trailing off in thought, but look at him with a small smile, a blush forming on your cheeks, "I guess that didn't help lighten the mood,” you say with a huff.

He watches as your breath hangs in the air before disappearing into the night. His eyes soften as you mention your parents, and he turns to face you more fully, his shoulder pressing against yours a little more. The touch, though slight, conveys a silent acknowledgement and support.

"No, it did not," he replies with a wry smile, but there's no malice in it. Only understanding. "But then, we are both well-versed in the language of melancholy, aren't we?”

You laugh, a smile gracing your lips, “Yeah I guess we are.” You say as you watch the snowflakes fall with a heavy silence. A comforting silence fell over the pair of you for a moment and it was peaceful, just being there with him in the moment. It felt…..different this time though. There was a heavy tension looming over but not bad- it was almost like a cord that was being pulled so tight it would snap under the slightest touch.

You reach your hand out to catch a snowflake, studying it for a few seconds before closing your eyes- you clutch your necklace in your hand, a warm glow emits from it as the snowflake slowly turns into a pink petal of a flower. You open your eyes smiling at the delicate petal in your hand before looking at Caleb who had been staring the entire time. A blush forms on your cheeks and neck as you quietly stammer, "it's a spell I learned from the woman who took me in- she um, taught me all about magic and stuff after my parents died." you said looking away, trying to not meet his gaze.

Caleb watched intently as the snowflake turned into a petal in your hand, his gaze flickering down to the glowing necklace and back to your face. He seemed captivated, the faintest hint of surprise in his expression. Though that surprise is quickly replaced with an almost reverent admiration. He had seen you use your magic many times before in fights but this was new- he had never seen you so..soft- almost delicate in a way.

He reaches a hand out, his fingers hesitating for a split second before gently taking the petal from you. He twirls it slowly in his fingers, his eyes never leaving yours. "That is... beautiful." He murmurs, his voice soft and sincere.

Your blush heats up your face even more, your hand coming to scratch the back of your neck, still avoiding his gaze, "oh thats nothing, its a parlor trick really,” you say with a small nervous laugh, "It's nothing like your magic-" Your eyes meet him for a second before looking back at your feet.

He exhales sharply—not quite a laugh, but something close—and shakes his head, the petal still cradled carefully in his palm. "Nein. There is nothing trivial about magic. Especially not when it comes from... someone so beautiful." His voice grows quieter as he says it, as if the words themselves are fragile. Then, after a pause, he carefully tucks the petal into the pages of a small, battered notebook he pulls from his coat pocket—like a keepsake.

When he looks back at you, his expression is softer than before, a little less guarded. "Would you show me more? If... if you do not mind.”

Seeing him put the petal in his notebook made you feel... proud? You always thought your spells were trivial compared to his but how could you deny him when he asked so sweetly? Even though you had known each other for years the two of you had never really shown each other your magic unless in a fight so the idea made you nervous. You blinked quickly before stammering, "oh, uh no! Of course I don't.. um lets see.”

You quickly look around, spotting an empty planter that held flowers in the spring and summer tucked away in the corner of the balcony. You walk over holding your hands above it, slowly you close your eyes, your necklace emits the same hue as before, only now your hands also start to glow as well. Slowly the plant started to return to life, it started out small and quickly grew bigger until it came to life, the green, lush leaves and red roses bloomed- it almost seemed as if your magic made the plant grow bigger and stronger somehow. It was beautiful. You opened your eyes and smiled at him, eyes shining proudly.

Caleb watched in open awe as the plant grew from nothing, his gaze flicking from your hands to the plant, then back to you. The expression on his face was a mixture of wonder, admiration, and... something he would refuse to put a name to. He takes a step forward, reaching out to touch one of the petals as if to make sure it was real, then quickly pulls his hand back, not wanting to ruin the magic.

"That... is incredible," he says softly, his gaze returning to you. He seems at a loss for words, his usual composure slightly cracked. You smile widely as you reach out to pick one of the roses before turning to look up at him. "Here,” holding it out to him sheepishly, you say with a smile, your eyes shine with pride, adoration and something else, something more intimate. He holds your gaze as you offer the rose, a faint flush dusting his cheeks. He takes it gingerly, as though it's a delicate, precious thing. His fingers brush against yours, the contact sending a strange flutter through his chest.

With a slight nod, he murmurs his thanks, his eyes flicking between the rose and your face. Then he does something quite unexpected; he tucks the rose into the lapel of his coat, just above his heart.

You blush at his actions, fingers coming to push some stray hair behind your ear and you clear your throat, "I uh, I know its not the best but-" You take a small step but your bad luck and the universe seem to hate you at that moment- you fall forward and land into his chest sending you both toppling backwards, you landing hard on his chest. "Oh my god!- I'm so sorry!" You say with a horrified squeak. His arms instinctively come up to steady you, landing hard on the balcony floor with a grunt. The breath leaves his lungs in a rush, but despite the surprise of it, he doesn’t seem upset. Instead, after a brief, stunned silence, he lets out a soft chuckle—something rare and genuine.

"Ah—mein Gott—are you all right?" he asks, voice slightly winded but amused. His hands remain lightly on your arms, not pulling away but not tightening either, giving you the space to move if you wish. His eyes crinkle at the corners as he adds, wryly, "I did not think my invitation to join me would be quite so... literal.”

You blush profusely at his words, stammering you go to pull back to give him space, "I didn't mean too! Are you okay?- I'm so sorry!” His hands tighten slightly when you try to pull away, a silent plea for you not to move. He shakes his head, the beginnings of a genuine grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "No need to apologize, it was an accident. I am alright, but please- stay." He shifts slightly beneath you, moving to prop himself up on his forearms. The position brings you even closer, the proximity suddenly much more intimate. His eyes search your face, the amusement in them tinged with something undefinable. You blink at him, shuddering slightly at the feeling of his warm body under you but you relax slightly, you are sure your face is the color of Molly's eyes at the moment and you try to look anywhere but him so he won’t see, "yeah okay, I mean- if that's what you want." You say looking anywhere but his face.

Caleb can feel the heat radiating off your face, and can see how flustered you are. The sight of your blushing cheeks amuses him, a small part of him pleased at your reaction. He notices your attempt to look away, but he gently lifts a hand to your chin, tilting your face back to his. "Look at me." He says, his voice low and gentle. His touch is feather light, his eyes roaming over your face, taking in every detail. "Please.” You let him, leaning into his touch slightly, "Caleb?" You say quietly almost squeaking his name, your eyes shining brightly at him searching his eyes for an answer. The way you say his name causes his heart to skip a beat. The way you lean into his touch, the way your eyes shine at him... it breaks through his cool facade, causing a crack in his carefully constructed armor. His gaze softens even more, his fingertips gently tracing along your jawline. "Ja?" he responds, his voice barely above a whisper. He's hyper-aware of every point of contact between you, every point where your bodies are pressed together.

You blink slowly at him, studying his face. Dammit, there was that tension again-you were tired of this back and forth, Molly was right you needed to tell him Your eyes fall to his lips and you subconsciously stick your tongue out to lick yours. Your cheeks heat up when you realize, your eyes hold a slight panic, knowing he saw it "I...I....." Your sentence trails off, too lost in thought and his eyes to form a complete thought.

He watched as your tongue darted out to wet your lips, his eyes tracking the movement. Every nerve in his body was suddenly on fire, the sight of your mouth causing a wave of heat to wash over him. He couldn't help but notice the slight panic in your eyes, the way you trailed off. He knew you were struggling with your words, but all he could focus on was the way your eyes held his. He could see you battling yourself behind them. His hand moved from your chin to your cheek, fingers tracing along your skin almost absentmindedly. "What is it?" He asked softly, his voice hoarse.

Your hands that had been holding onto his coat with a death grip moved up his chest to wrap around his neck, your eyes shining with longing, adoration and maybe love? For a moment, he doesn’t move—simply stares up at you as if committing every detail of this moment to memory. Then, slowly, deliberately, he pulls you down toward him, his lips finally meeting yours in a kiss that’s achingly soft—hesitant at first, as if he can hardly believe this is happening, but quickly deepening as the realization sinks in. His arms tighten around you, one hand cradling the back of your neck while the other presses firmly against the small of your back. When he finally pulls back, just far enough to look at you, his voice is rough with emotion. "...Meine Liebe.” He exhales the words like a prayer.

You sigh breathlessly, he tasted like ale, smoke and something... darker, it makes your head spin. So you find your voice and quietly say, "Caleb, I'm in love with you...I have been for a while, and I am tired of acting like I'm not- I'm tired of just knowing… I know you feel something for me too–everyone can see it and I am not running anymore," you say looking down, tears forming in the corners of your eyes- and just like that, the cord snaps.

He freezes as the words leave your mouth, his mind struggling to process what he'd just heard. The world seemed to slow, everything else faded into the background as your confession rang in his ears. Even if he wanted to deny the feelings he had for you, the depth of them hit him like a wave. The way his heart ached for you, all the years he'd spent watching you from afar...it was as undeniable as the winter's chill. He reached a hand up to gently tilt your chin, wiping a falling tear from your cheek softly, forcing your gaze back to his. "...say that again.”

You blink at him. "I...I love you,” you say, your fingers threading through his long hair. "It's always been you," you say as your nose brushes his slightly. You could feel the heat from his breath on your lips. The second time you say it, something in his chest fractures—but not in a way that hurts. It’s as though a dam has broken, years of carefully guarded walls crumbling in an instant. His breath catches, and for the first time in a long, long while, he doesn’t think—he just feels. His fingers tighten in your hair, pulling you back to him with a desperate sort of reverence. The kiss is deeper this time, less tentative, as if he’s trying to pour every unspoken word into it. When he finally pulls away, his forehead rests against yours, his voice rough and raw. "Ich liebe dich auch, more than you could possibly know." A shaky exhale, then, softer, "I have been... terrified of this. Of losing you, that is why I kept my distance. But I cannot pretend anymore.” You huff softly, gazing up at him. You smile softly through tears you just now noticed were falling. "Then don't pretend, I'm yours...just be with me," you say quietly.

His thumb brushes away your tears, his touch achingly gentle. Hearing you say that woke something fragile and hopeful in his chest, a warmth that chases away the lingering shadows of doubt. He exhales shakily, pressing his lips to your forehead in a tender, lingering kiss. "Mein Schatz," he murmurs against your skin, "You have had me for a long time already. I was just... too much of a coward to say it.” A quiet, self-deprecating laugh escapes him, but his arms tighten around you—as if he's afraid you'll vanish if he lets go. Then, softer, more vulnerable than you've ever heard him: "Will you stay with me tonight? The others will be drunk for hours yet. We could... just be. Together.” You laugh softly at the thought of the others, he was right and you didn't know the next time you would get to be alone with him. You were going to take advantage of it. "Of course, who knows the next time we will be able to be in an actual bed..." You say with a playful smirk as you lean forward to trail kisses up his neck.

A shiver runs through his body when you press your lips to his neck, an involuntary gasp escaping him. He lets his head drop back, giving you more access to his throat, his grip tightening on your body. The thought of being alone with you—and not just in a stolen moment or hidden corner—has him nearly dizzy with anticipation. He lets out a low, rough laugh of mock-exasperation. "Scheiße, if you keep that up, I might just lock us in my bedroom for the rest of the night.” You smile into his neck, slightly peeking at him through your long lashes, "and what's so wrong with that?" You say with a playful pout. His breath catches at your expression—that pout, the way you looked at him- he groans, half in exasperation, half in want. His grip on you tightens for a second, fingers pressing possessively into your hips before he abruptly shifts, rolling you both over so he’s the one hovering above you, his forearms braced on either side of your head.

His voice is a rough murmur, laced with amusement and something far more dangerous. "Absolut nichts. Except that I am trying—very hard—to be civilized about this." A beat, then he adds, smirking, "But if you insist on testing my patience, Liebling, I can make exceptions.” You smile up at him, your eyes hold a more mischievous glint now, almost challenging in a way. "Then what are we waiting for?”

A couple hours later, the noise from the tavern next door had quieted down some time ago, not that either one if you would have noticed. All you could hear now was the cracking of the fire and Caleb's heavy breathing. You both lie on the bed naked, sweaty limbs tangled together like you were both scared the other would disappear. You sigh happily. "Wow, that was.... amazing. We should've done this sooner,” you say with a small smile, gazing up at him fondly tracing circles on his chest.

Caleb chuckles breathlessly, one strong arm wrapped around your waist, the other resting above his head. His heart is still hammering in his chest and he's fairly certain he won't be able to move for at least an hour. Still, he can't keep the smug smile off his face as he gazes down at you. "Well, as much as I want to take credit for my prowess in bed, I think your timing is more responsible than my skills." He teases, eyes tracing over your face. "But yes, I agree. We should have done this a long time ago.”

You pulled away from him to sit up so you could admire him more, the sight of his toned chest in the dim firelight made him look...angelic. He had a content smile on his face that you were not used to seeing from him and it warmed your heart to know you were the one to make him feel this way. He watches you as you pull away, his hand immediately moving to trail lazily along your back as if to keep some sort of connection between you. He notices the way you look at him—with something like awe—and his heart does that stupid little stutter it seems to reserve only for you. He shifts slightly, reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering against your cheek.

"You are staring." He says it lightly, but there’s a rare warmth in his voice—no guardedness, no hesitation. Just open affection. You grab his hand gently, bringing it to your lips before kissing his palm then his wrist smiling into his skin. "Can you blame me?" You say with a smile, "have you seen yourself sir?”

His eyes flutter shut at the feeling of your lips against his bare skin, and he can't suppress a quiet sigh of contentment. Your words cause his face to flush with an unfamiliar feeling of bashfulness—and god, you really have too much power over him—but he just smirks. "I do not think I'm handsome, but I am glad you do, so thank you." He says lightly, opening his eyes to look back at you. He looks utterly undone—his face flushed, his hair messy, his eyes soft with affection.

You smile at his quip, "well, you should- because you are,” you say, pressing a kiss to his cheek softly before moving to stand up. Knowing he was watching you bend down to pick up his discarded shirt before slipping it on to move to the balcony doors. You open them and take a deep breath in, basking in the cool night air.

He can't help but admire the way his shirt looks on you, slightly baggy in the shoulders and sleeves but long enough to fall to mid-thigh. It's an absurdly domestic sight—you in his clothes—and it makes his heart ache in the most wonderful way. He follows you to the balcony, standing behind you and pressing a possessive hand to your hip, chin resting on your shoulder. "You look better in my shirt than I do," he mumbles against your skin. You smile at him, hands resting on top of his larger ones. You lean back into his chest laughing softly. “You are only saying that because you've seen me naked,” you say with a playful smirk.

He snorts, grinning against your neck before nipping lightly at your skin. He tightens his grip on your hip, pulling you back against him, the evidence of previous activities pressing against the small of your back. "I mean it. You could be wearing rags and still look ravishing."

He pauses for a moment, his tone shifting into a low purr, "Though I do prefer you without clothes.”

You hum thoughtfully, before turning around in his arms to wrap yours around his neck. You realize in the moment how much shorter you are than him, you love feeling small next to him. It made you feel safe, "same, it's such a shame we have to wear clothes all the time." You say with a slight pout.

His hands settle possessively on your hips, one sliding down to caress the bare skin of your thigh. He can't help but chuckle at the pout on your face—you're far too adorable for your own good.

"Liebling, if it were up to me, I'd keep you naked all the time." He murmurs, ducking his head to press a kiss to the hollow of your throat. He smiles against your skin. "Unfortunately, others might have a few complaints about that.”

You smile mischievously, "hmmm I don't think Molly would mind,” you say teasingly. He snorts, his hands skimming up your thighs, under the shirt. He gives your ass a slight pinch, grinning against your neck. "Molly's a scoundrel, he'd enjoy it far too much. And you're mine."

He presses you flush against him, his hands sliding back up, under the shirt this time. "I don't want anyone else taking a good look at your perfect little body.”

"What is your plan Mr. Widogast, are you going to lock me away in a tower?” you ask with a playful smile. His grip tightens slightly, his expression darkening with playful possessiveness.

"Ja, maybe I will." He murmurs, lips brushing yours. "A tower with a very soft bed, plenty of books... and me. And you wouldn’t leave unless I allowed it." He nips at your lower lip before pulling back just enough to smirk at you.

"Does that sound like a terrible fate?”

You tap your chin, playfully thinking, "It sounds like a dream come true." You say with a smile, your nose brushing his. He chuckles, breath warm against your lips before stealing another quick kiss. His fingers tangle in the fabric of his shirt—your shirt now—tugging you even closer.

"Good. Because I have no intention of letting you go now that I've finally got you." His voice is light, but the possessiveness in his grip is undeniable. He pauses for a moment, resting his forehead against yours with a soft sigh. "Mein Schatz, I would burn cities to keep you safe. Keeping you to myself is just... an added bonus.”

"I don't need you to burn cities Caleb, I just need you here with me." You say wrapping your arms around his waist, melting into him, you felt incredibly small in his arms.

His breath hitches slightly at your words, arms tightening around you as he presses his lips to the crown of your head. He exhales—slow, steady—like he’s trying to relearn how to breathe without the weight of the world pressing down on him.

"Then here is where I’ll stay," he murmurs, voice rough with emotion. "Solange du mich haben willst—as long as you’ll have me."

And for the first time in a long, long while, the future doesn’t feel like something to fear. It feels like warmth. Like you. It felt like you could just be- together.

AN: Ahh I am a sucker for the confession trope, sorry not sorry. The next part of JBFR? will probably be posted next week sometime, if all goes according to plan. As always thank you for reading! Xoxo

Translations:

Ja: Yes

Nien: No

Mien Gott- My God

Miene Liebe- My love

Ich liebe dich auch- I love you too

Mein Schatz- My darling

Scheiße- Shit

Absolut nichts- Absolutely nothing

Liebling- Darling

Solange du mich haben willst- As long as you want to have me (rough translation)

[issacballsac]

To Serve, To be Swayed

Ichijuku Kadenokoji…

Starting as an assistant you didn’t expect to be tending to such a high ranking official Ichijuku herself

Pitch black flooded your senses—polished obsidian marble of the Chuo Ward central tower left no room for error. Every step you took echoed in the pristine, quiet hallway, a reminder of just how far out of your depth you were.

You were expecting standard administrative work—compiling reports on division rivalries, managing schedules, filtering propaganda drafts—not serving directly as the personal aide to Ichijuku Kadenokoji.

In Chuo Ward, proximity to power was a double-edged sword. And Ichijuku was the sharpest blade in the room.

Shakily balancing the tray in your hands—a fresh pot of black tea brewed to her exact temperature specifications and a quiet stack of high-level briefing files. Pausing outside the heavy double doors, you smooth down your uniform, take a measured breath, and knock twice.

Your skirt as stiff as you were until a voice came,

Enter.”

Her voice carries through the wood, cold and commanding. When you push the door open, Ichijuku doesn't immediately look up. She’s framed by the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, bathed in the harsh light of afternoon.

She works with absolute precision, signing off on documents with a heavy fountain pen, every movement calculated to project total control.

Set the files on the left,"

The command was smooth, finally lifting her eyes to lock onto yours. Her gaze is sharp enough to cut, sizing you up in less than a second.

And I hope you remembered the report regarding the recent Central District patrol logs. I don't tolerate repetition."

It’s right here, Commander Kadenokoji,"

You reply, keeping your voice steady as you lay out the papers and set down the tea.

Ichijuku pauses, her fingers resting lightly on the edge of her desk. She watches how seamlessly you organize the workspace, her stern expression shifting ever so slightly—not quite a smile, but a subtle lingering look that suggests she’s paying far closer attention to you than a high-ranking official usually would to a new assistant.

You're quicker than the last one,"

She notes, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms, her sharp glare melting into something far more dangerous: genuine intrigue.

Let's see if your composure holds when the real pressure starts."

I lowkey think imma make this a series since I don’t write for a lot of women or at least I write mostly for male x reader yknow? Lmk if you like the premise I didn’t label the reader as anything besides the skirt comment but lore wise it makes sense for the reader to be a girl/fem presenting