TheYeid349

His voice was its usual rumble, deep and graveled, but somehow not harsh.

"Right," you nodded, fingers toying with the hem of your dress as you looked around, desperate to escape the awkward tension. "Appropriate."

His stare lingered a moment too long, the feeling of his sharp gaze only worsening your urge to run away from the table.

You were scared.

And you were doing a pretty shit job at hiding it.

The whole experience was making you feel like a total fish out of water.

From the hazy, golden, and refined atmosphere, to the silverware that probably costed more than your rent.

It was a swanky establishment, where it seemed as if blinking wrong would get you thrown out of the place.

Trying your best, you sat with your hands folded in your lap, attempting to posture yourself like the other high society women in the room.

In a dress that wasn't yours... in makeup someone else applied... in shoes a half-size too tight...

Your spine felt stiff as a board as you sat across from your husband-to-be, who had said no more than a total of six words since he escorted you to the private booth.

"You... don't have to be afraid of me," Katakuri suddenly chimed, snapping you out of your thoughts.

Surprised, your breath hitched, the sight sending a rather sharp pang through the man's heart.

He hated it.

Not you—never you—but your fear.

Your uncertainty.

He had caused it, even if he didn't mean to.

The last time he saw you, you were cracking jokes with Kota while frosting the day's cupcakes.

You had greeted him with a smile and a dash of powder on your cheek, completely unaware that in twenty-four hours, you'd be told you were about to become his wife.

And now you were a stranger, blinking too fast and trying her best not to cry.

"I'm not—"

"You are," he said plainly, without cruelty. "It's not unreasonable."

You blinked, before allowing the tiniest, most nervous laugh to escape your lips.

"That's... not reassuring."

"It's the truth."

A beat of silence passed.

"You don't have to like this... or me," he set the menu down carefully. "But I want to try. I'd like... for you to feel safe with me."

Your throat tightened.

This was the first time he sounded like an actual person.

And he was trying—that much was clear.

But just as you opened your mouth to speak, the waiter tripped, and the entire plate of smoked duck and cranberry glaze went tumbling.

Straight into the general's lap.

A collective gasp sounded off from the nearby tables, the waiter himself nearly crapping his pants as you slapped a hand over your mouth.

Katakuri didn't even flinch.

He slowly looked down at the steaming mess on his stomach, before looking up to the shaking waiter.

"It's fine," he said, voice flat as stone. "It's just sauce."

The man let out an incoherent string of frantic apologies before scurrying off back to the kitchen.

With a sigh, Katakuri leaned forward, grabbing a napkin with all the zeal of an exhausted lion.

"Do things like that happen often?" you asked, quite confused by his reaction.

You were expecting a blowout.

A scream, a shout, something.

He grunted, dabbing his soaked pants, "Not until now."

And at his response, you laughed.

He blinked, looking up with a quirked brow.

It was a real laugh—short, muffled by your hand—but a laugh nonetheless.

And Katakuri couldn't stop the hum of warmth that passed through him at the sound of it.

"Sorry," you apologized with a faint—adorable—snort. "It's just... you're such an intimidating guy and yet you're just... sitting there... being polite with cranberry sauce on your legs."

"It's cranberry?" he muttered, genuinely confused as he sniffed his leather vest.

Once again, you laughed, and something inside him thawed—if only slightly.

Sadly, the awkwardness returned once the replacement meal was brought.

You had began eating with the wrong fork, and in an attempt to correct you, the sommelier leaned over the table, only to knock over Katakuri's untouched wine, which completely flooded the linen tablecloth.

And completely ruined your new dress.

So, a few napkins and a relocation later, and things were back to normal.

The sommelier had returned and tried to pour Katakuri more wine, but your fiance was quick to send him a sharp glare, effectively scaring him off.

Your dinners were eaten in relative silence, only an odd question here and there managing to break up the quiet.

In fact, it wasn't until the two of you had finished and left the restaurant that you said another word to each other.

"I don't want you to be afraid of me," Katakuri suddenly blurted, eyes trained on the space ahead as you two walked back to the Whole Cake Chateau.

It was only a few gingerbread-blocks away, and Big Mom had insisted you stayed there until the wedding was done and over with—partly for convenience, mostly to make sure you didn't run.

Besides, the moon was full and bright, and the night was perfectly clear.

"If I've ever done anything to—"

"You didn't," you assured, quickly. "It's not you. It's just... everything. The arrangement. The family. The suddenness."

You let out an empty chuckle, all the warmth from earlier now gone as you glanced down at the ground.

"It's a lot to take in..."

In an instant, your whole life had been uprooted.

The trajectory of your entire future was laid out before you by someone else's plan, and you had absolutely no say in the matter.

You were marrying into crime, into violence.

Into piracy.

And the cherry on top was that it wasn't even a normal pirate crew, but one of the most infamous, dangerous, and feared crews in the world.

So yeah, all that was enough to make any woman's head spin.

But even still...

You glanced up, your voice quieter, "You don't scare me, Katakuri."

Instantly, his shoulders eased, a faint glimmer of hope flashing across his iris.

At the sight, you cracked a shy smile, a tinge of warmth stinging the apples of your cheeks.

If this was really for the long haul, then silence and fear wasn't going to cut it.

Sure, baby steps would have to be taken, and maybe a few less mishaps, but at the end of the tunnel you could see—if anything—a great friendship blossoming between you two.

"But cranberries?" you teased, giving the man a cheeky bump with your hip. "That's a different story."

At your joke, he gave the smallest of chuckles—a breath, really—but it was just enough to fill your chest with a sense of pride.

"I could say the same for the wine."

The market is too loud. People walk everywhere. Vendors shout. Children run between the stands. The smell of grilled food mixes with flowers and smoke.

You pull your hat lower.

“Stop looking nervous.” Law says beside you.

“I’m not nervous.”

“You keep fixing your sleeve every ten seconds.”

You immediately stop touching your sleeve.

Law gives you a look.

You glare back “This was not my idea.”

“Nor mine.” he says flatly “It was theirs.”

Ahead of you, Usopp laughs loudly while carrying a basket.

“It worked, didn’t it?” he says “Nobody suspects a married couple.”

You stare at him.

“You didn’t need to say newly married.”

“It added detail.” Usopp replies proudly.

“It ruined my life.”

Usopp shrugs “You already argue like a couple anyway.”

Law says nothing.

“You all forced us into this…” you say.

Usopp says “People trust married people.”

Law finally speaks “I still think this plan is stupid.”

Usopp points at him “But you agreed.”

Law looks annoyed “I agreed because we couldn't refuse.”

“And because you two look natural together.” Usopp says.

You nearly trip over your own foot “What?”

His smile widen.

Law exhales slowly.

“We should split up now.”

“Yes,” you say quickly “good idea.”

Usopp waves “Don’t forget to hold hands.”

You stop walking.

“You need to act believable.”

Law looks tired already “This is unnecessary.”

Usopp tilts his head “Married couples usually touch, you know?”

The silence after that feels painful.

You glance toward Law and he already looks done with life.

“Fine.” he says.

You blink “What?”

He holds out his hand.

You stare at it, then at him, then back at his hand… “This feels threatening.”

“Take my hand.”

“You sound like you hate me.”

“I sound tired.”

“That’s not better.”

“People are watching.”

You glance around and see one older woman smiling softly at you both.

You immediately look away and slowly, awkwardly, you place your hand in his.

Law’s fingers close around yours.

Your brain suddenly stops working for one second.

You hate that.

“There,” Law mutters “done.”

You clear your throat “Right.”

You both start walking again and neither of you says anything.

A vendor nearby smiles at both of you.

“Beautiful couple.” he says kindly.

Law slightly stiffens.

“Thank you.” you answer quickly.

“New marriage, right? You both look shy, it's cute.”

Your face burns and Law’s grip tightens slightly.

The vendor gives you extra fruit “For good luck.”

“Thank you.” you say again with a smile.

You walk away quickly and the moment you turn a corner, you pull your hand away “That was painful.”

“You answered too fast.”

“You said nothing.”

“You handled it.”

“You basically abandoned me.”

Law looks at you “I didn’t abandon you.”

“You absolutely did.”

“You were believable.”

You stare at him “Was I?”

“Yes.”

You look away. The street suddenly feels warmer.

Law starts walking again and you follow him, and for some reason your hand still remembers the warmth of his.

Later that day, you follow Franky until he stops in front of a small house hidden between two narrow streets.

“This is the place.” says proudly.

You look up.

The house is old but clean, with wooden walls, small paper windows, a quiet area far from the busy streets of Wano.

Perfect for hiding.

Franky places his hands on his hips.

“Nobody comes here. Safe location. Good roof. No weird smells.”

“That last one matters?” you ask.

“It always matters.”

Beside you, Law looks at the house “It’s isolated.”

“Exactly,” Franky says “good for undercover married life.”

You immediately sigh “Please stop calling it that.”

Franky grins “You two are famous already.”

Law looks tired “We shouldn’t be.”

Franky opens the door “Too late.”

You step inside.

The space is small. You all walk around and see the kitchen, the bathroom and then the bedroom .

One bed.

Very impossible to ignore.

You slowly turn.

Franky scratches the back of his neck “Oh right.”

You stare.

He points casually “Only one bedroom.”

Silence.

Law stares at the bed and then at Franky.

Franky lifts his hands quickly “Hey, don’t look at me like that. Married couple cover story. This makes sense.”

“You’re enjoying this.” you say.

“A little.”

Law exhales slowly “We’ll manage.”

Franky nods “You can stay here until things move forward. Nobody will bother you.”

He starts walking toward the door and pauses “Good luck!”

Then he leaves.

The door closes.

You stand there and Law stands near the entrance. Neither of you moves.

“This keeps getting worse…” you say.

Law glances toward the bed “Yes.”

You walk around the room slowly… there is a small couch near the wall.

Law notices it too and says “I’ll take the couch.”

You turn toward him “No.”

“It’s fine.”

“You’re too tall for that.”

“I’ve slept in worse places.”

“That doesn’t mean you should.”

Law places his sword near the wall “I’ll sleep on the floor then.”

You blink “No.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does.”

He looks at you “You take the bed.”

You cross your arms “And let my captain sleep on the floor?”

“It’s practical.”

“It’s stupid.”

Law raises a brow slightly “You sound annoyed.”

“I am annoyed.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re acting like sharing a bed is impossible.”

“It’s not impossible.”

“Then why are we arguing over it?”

Law goes quiet.

You sigh and sit on the edge of the bed.

The mattress sinks softly.

You look up at him “Listen.”

He stays still.

“We’re two adults.”

He says nothing.

“I don’t care about sharing a bed just for sleeping.”

His eyes stay on you.

“It’s not a big deal. We’re about to start a war.” your voice becomes softer “We should rest while we still can.”

Law watches you carefully.

You hold his gaze.

“So I don’t care what you say.” you finish “We’re both sleeping here.”

A long silence follows.

Then Law looks away first “…You’re stubborn.”

“You already knew that.”

“That doesn’t make it easier.”

You smile slightly “It means you should stop fighting.”

He sighs quietly “Fine.”

You hide your smile.

Night comes slowly.

The house becomes darker and rain taps softly against the roof.

You lie on one side of the bed.

Law lies on the other.

Enough distance.

At least that's what you tell yourself.

The room is quiet.

You hear Law shifting slightly beside you.

You turn onto your side… then back again.

Sleep refuses to come.

You sigh.

A second later Law sighs too.

You glance toward him.

He is staring at the ceiling.

“You awake?” you whisper.

“Yes.”

“This is awkward.”

“A little...”

You smile weakly “At least the mattress is comfortable.”

“Better than the submarine beds.”

“True.”

Silence again.

You shift and your arm brushes his accidentally, which makes you freeze.

He doesn't move away and neither do you.

Your eyes slowly meet even if there's barely any light, but you still see him clearly.

His eyes… his face… the way he looks at you focused and quiet.

The air grows heavier.

You move slightly closer without thinking and Law’s eyes lower to your lips, then back to your eyes.

Your heartbeat becomes impossible to ignore.

Slowly you lean closer and he meets you halfway.

The kiss starts soft and careful… almost testing. Then suddenly it deepens.

Your fingers lightly grab his shirt while his hand rests against your waist.

The kiss becomes stronger and needier, like both of you wanted this longer than either wants to admit.

Your chest presses closer to his and you feel his hand tighten slightly.

Then you both stop… still close and still breathing hard.

You clear your throat “Well…” Law watches you carefully as you continue “That definitely helps the married couple act.”

A pause. Then a small laugh leaves him.

You smile immediately.

“There,” you whisper “that’s less scary.”

“You think I’m scary?”

“Only when you look at people like you want to stab them.”

“Fair.”

The tension softens.

After a moment, Law shifts slightly closer. His arm wraps carefully around your waist. Giving you time to pull away but of course you don't.

Instead, you move closer. Your head rests against his chest.

You close your eyes.

Morning comes too fast.

You wake slowly, with something heavy resting around you.

Then you realize that Law’s arm is still holding you close. Your face presses against his chest, your leg tangled slightly with his.

The front door suddenly opens and before you can even react the bedroom door slides open.

And there Bepo… Penguin… Shachi… all frozen and all staring.

Silence.

Penguin blinks “Oh?”

Shachi’s eyes go wide “Oh.”

Bepo covers his mouth “Oh no…”

You stare at them still half asleep, and still trapped in Law’s arms.

Law slowly opens his eyes. He sees the crew and his expression becomes instantly dangerous.

“What are you doing here?” he says.

Penguin raises a hand “Usopp told us where you were.”

Shachi grins “And gave us a spare key.”

“Of course he did…” you mumble.

Bepo looks guilty “We came to bring supplies…”

Nobody moves.

Then Penguin points “You’re cuddling.”

“No.” Law says immediately.

“You absolutely are.”

“No.”

“You literally are.”

Law looks ready to commit murder.

Shachi wipes his eyes “The fake marriage is becoming real.”

“Get out.” Law says.

Penguin grins “Captain looks happy for the first time in his whole life.”

“Leave.”

“You look comfortable together.”

“Now.”

You bury your face into Law’s chest again “This is the worst morning of my life.”

Law’s arm tightens slightly around you, and somehow that makes it worse and better at the same time.

── .✦ Crocodile:

tags: slow burn, tension, forced proximity, suggestive

The desert is freezing at night, you hate that.

During the day, the heat feels endless and then at night, the cold slips under your skin like sharp fingers.

You pull your cloak tighter as you walk beside Crocodile.

He says nothing.

His coat moves slightly with the wind, sand shifts under your boots.

You glance toward him “Are you always this quiet?”

“Yes.”

“You know talking doesn’t kill people.”

“Depends what they say.”

You roll your eyes “Funny.”

“I wasn’t joking.”

You continue walking.

The small map in your hand shakes slightly from the wind “There should be a town nearby.”

“There is.”

“You sound very sure.”

“I’ve been here before.”

“Helpful information you could have said earlier.”

He exhales smoke from his cigar “You didn’t ask.”

You mutter under your breath “You’re impossible.”

“I hear that often.”

You hate that he sounds amused.

A few minutes later, lights appear in the distance.

A village.

You sigh in relief “Finally.”

The streets are quiet when you arrive, most places already closed. Only one inn still shows light through the windows.

You push the door open and warm air immediately hits your face.

You almost melt from relief.

An old man behind the desk looks up.

“Room?” he asks.

“We'd like two rooms.” you answer quickly.

The man shakes his head “Sorry, there's only one left.”

You freeze and turn your head.

Crocodile already looks annoyed.

The old man smiles “Storm tonight. Everything full.”

Outside, thunder rumbles softly.

You glance at Crocodile and he looks completely…. too calm.

“I’ll sleep outside.” you say quickly.

“No.” he says and looks at the innkeeper “We take it.”

You stare.

The old man hands over the key and you take it silently while your soul is already leaving your body.

The room is larger than expected, there's even a chair and a table… and one bed, a large one but still terrible for the circumstances.

You close the door behind you and silence fills the room.

Crocodile removes his coat slowly. You immediately look away for no reason.

“You can take the bed.” you say.

“No.”

“I don’t mind the floor.”

“You’ll freeze.”

“I survived worse.”

“So have I.”

You turn and he lights another cigar.

“You’re not sleeping on the floor.” he says.

“And I guess you’re not either.”

His gaze moves toward you.

The room suddenly feels warmer.

“It’s just a bed.” he says.

You laugh softly “You say that like this isn’t awkward.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

Easy for him to say. He looks completely unaffected, which annoys you more.

You sit on the edge of the mattress.

“You don’t seem bothered.” you say.

“I’m tired and I'm not a kid.”

“That doesn’t answer me.”

“It answers enough.”

You narrow your eyes “You enjoy making people nervous.”

His mouth shifts slightly “Only when they pretend not to be.”

You look away first.

The room feels too small, too quiet and too warm.

Eventually, you lie down, keeping to one side.

Crocodile remains near the window for a while, watching outside and smoking.

Then he moves over and the mattress dips slightly as he lies beside you.

You stare at the ceiling. You can hear his breathing, slow and calm.

You hate how aware you suddenly are.

The room grows quieter.

You close your eyes to try to sleep.

Fail.

You turn slightly and the blanket shifts.

You sigh.

A second later you hear him say “You move too much.”

Your eyes snap open “You’re awake.”

“Yes.”

“You could’ve said something.”

“I was hoping you’d stop moving.”

You glare toward the darkness “You’re annoying.”

“You’ve said that before.”

You turn onto your side, facing away from him.

Then thunder cracks loudly outside and the sound, always given the circumstances, makes you jump slightly.

You freeze embarrassed by that.

A quiet sound comes from beside you, almost a low chuckle “You’re scared of storms?”

“No.”

“You jumped.”

“I was surprised.”

“Of course.”

You roll your eyes.

Then another loud crack shakes the windows and the room flashes briefly with lightning.

You shift automatically closer, before realizing.

You stop breathing.

Crocodile says nothing.

You slowly look toward him and his eyes are already on you.

The air changes.

The distance between you suddenly feels too small and definitely too noticeable.

His hand rests near yours, close enough to touch. You should move away but you don’t and neither does he.

Outside, thunder rolls again, but now you barely hear it.

The room flashes white for a second, then darkness returns.

You still haven’t moved and neither has .

His eyes stay on you.

“You’re staring.” you whisper.

“So are you.”

The fire crackles softly behind you and warm light moves across his face… the scar near his mouth… the slow rise of his chest.

Everything suddenly feels too close, too quiet and too aware.

Outside, thunder shakes the windows again.

You shift slightly, closer.

His gaze lowers to your lips, then back to your eyes.

You tell yourself to stop looking at him… you fail.

“You should sleep.” he says quietly.

“That sounds like a warning.”

“Maybe.”

You breathe out slowly “And if I don’t?”

His eyes darken slightly “Then you’ll keep looking at me like that?”

Your heart skips “Like what?”

“Like you’re thinking too much.”

You almost laugh “That’s rich coming from you.”

He leans slightly closer “Am I wrong?”

You don't answer… because no, he isn’t.

The space between you feels smaller now.

His hand shifts slowly, until his fingers brush yours lightly.

Your breath catches and he notices, but his hand stays there.

Your fingers curl slightly against his.

Crocodile’s eyes stay on yours.

Slowly he lifts his hand and his fingers brush lightly along your jaw.

Your skin burns instantly.

You close your eyes for half a second, that small touch feels dangerous but still too soft for someone like him.

When you open your eyes again, he is closer, enough to feel his breath.

“You should stop me.” he says quietly.

Your stomach tightens “You first.”

Then suddenly his hand slides behind your neck and his mouth meets yours.

The kiss is slow at first… testing.

But it doesn’t stay like that.

His hand tightens slightly, pulling you closer.

You feel the heat of him immediately… and that taste of smoke and whiskey.

Your fingers grab lightly at his shirt.

He exhales softly against your lips, a sound that sends warmth down your spine.

The kiss deepens.

Your body shifts closer without thinking and your leg brushes his.

The mattress moves beneath you.

His hand slides slowly down your side, possessive without force.

You feel his thumb brush your waist, then your hip.

Your breath catches.

When he pulls back slightly, both of you breathe harder.

“You’re trouble.” you whisper.

A faint smile touches the corner of his mouth “And yet you’re still here.”

You smile softly “Bad decisions are made sometimes.”

“Clearly.”

His hand remains against your waist.

You don't move away, instead, you lean closer again until your lips brush his to start another kiss.

Slower this time but more dangerous somehow.

His fingers slide through your hair.

Now nothing exists except this room, this bed and the heat between you.

Eventually, you pull back. Your forehead rests against his shoulder.

His hand remains at your back.

Your fingers rest lightly against his chest.

“You know,” you murmur, “sharing a bed was a terrible idea.”

A low hum leaves him “Yes.”

“But I’m not complaining.”

His hand moves once along your back “You would complain eventually.”

You smile against him “Probably.”

Then he asks “So… we’re done?”

That makes you relax and laugh softly “Nah.”

Then you suddenly move and climb on him. You smile at his little surprised face, even if it lasts for a second.

You lift your shirt while his hand tightens slightly around your waist.

That marks the start of the best night of your life. 

── .✦ Kid:

tags: wano arc, slow burn, forced proximity, hidden feelings, protective kid, tension

The hideout is terrible.

You stop at the doorway and stare. It's just one room, one lamp, one tiny kitchen corner and one bedroom with one bed.

You slowly turn toward Kid “This is it?”

He walks inside like nothing is wrong “It has walls. Good enough.”

“That’s your standard?”

“It should be yours too.”

You shut the door behind you.

Outside, Wano.

Killer went another direction hours ago. You and Kid had to split from him.

Which means you are stuck here now.

You drop your bag near the wall.

The room smells faintly like dust and old wood.

Kid removes his coat and throws it over a chair.

You sit carefully on the edge of the bed and the mattress creaks.

You look up.

“Please tell me there’s another secret room somewhere.”

“No.”

“Another mattress?”

“No.”

“A couch?”

“No.”

You glance around again, just to confirm he’s right.

The room is too small.

Kid notices you looking around and says “I’ll take the floor.”

You blink “No.”

“It’s fine.”

“You’re huge.”

He gives you a look “That sounded rude.”

“It was honest.”

He snorts softly, then shrugs “Still taking it.”

You shake your head “Your back will break.”

“I’ve slept on metal.”

“And that explains your personality.”

Kid looks toward you “Watch your mouth.”

You grin slightly “Or what Captain?”

He steps closer “You’re brave tonight.”

“I’m always brave.”

“You’re always annoying.”

You smile wider “And yet you keep me around.”

He rolls his eyes “Unfortunately.”

You pat the bed beside you “We can both sleep here.”

Kid immediately looks at the mattress, then at you “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s small.”

“There’s no space anywhere else for your giant body.”

He scoffs.

“You calling me fat?”

“No. Just built like a wall.”

“That’s still insulting.”

“You survive.”

Kid folds his arms “I’m not crushing you in my sleep.”

“You think you move around?”

“I know I do.”

You shrug “I move too.”

“That’s your argument?”

“Yes.”

He looks unconvinced.

You sigh dramatically “Kid.”

“What.”

“We’re hiding in Wano. We could die tomorrow.”

He goes quiet.

You continue softer “We should sleep properly while we can.”

Kid watches you. His expression unreadable. Then he clicks his tongue “You always say things like that.”

“Like what?”

“Things that make arguing with you annoying.”

You grin “So I win.”

“You’re confident.”

“I’m right.”

He stares a moment longer then finally “Fine.”

You smile to yourself and Kid notices “Don’t look proud.”

“I am proud.”

“You shouldn’t be.”

“You agreed.”

“I gave up.”

“Same thing.”

He mutters something under his breath and you laugh quietly.

Night comes slowly.

You lie near the wall and Kid lies beside you.

You immediately feel how close he is. Shoulder almost touching.

The room suddenly feels even smaller.

You stare at the ceiling.

“You awake?” you whisper.

“Yes.”

“You sound annoyed.”

“I’m trying to sleep.”

“You’re failing.”

“So are you.”

You smile slightly “Fair.”

Silence returns.

You turn onto your side, facing away.

The blanket shifts and the mattress moves.

Kid exhales quietly “You're taking all the blanket.”

“You take too much space.”

“You wanted this.”

“You’re loud.”

He snorts softly, making you blink in surprise “You laughed?”

“No.”

“You absolutely did.”

“Go to sleep, you're starting to imagine things.”

You smile into the pillow.

Wind taps lightly against the windows and the room becomes colder.

You pull the blanket higher but you're still cold.

You shift slightly closer without thinking and… just for warmth, just because the room is freezing.

Your shoulder brushes his arm.

Kid stays still.

You slowly glance back and he’s already looking at you.

The room feels quiet again.

“You cold?” he asks.

You hesitate “...A little.”

He says nothing, then he slowly lifts part of the blanket higher and toward you, without a word.

You blink “Thanks.”

“Don’t make it weird.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking it.”

You smile faintly.

You settle closer under the blanket and your arm brushes his again.

Kid stares at the ceiling again but his hand stays closer now, near yours.

A soft rain keeps falling, soft against the roof.

You lie still beneath the blanket, too awake to sleep and obviously too aware of how close  he's beside you.

His shoulder brushes yours every time either of you moves.

You glance toward him and he's still staring at the ceiling, wide awake.

“You’re unusually quiet…” you whisper.

He grunts softly “So?”

“So it’s weird.”

“I don’t talk when I’m tired.”

“You talk loudly when you’re tired.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You absolutely do.”

Kid shifts slightly “You complain too much.”

You smile “You’re proving my point.”

He says nothing and that alone feels super strange.

You turn slightly onto your side but facing him now.

The dim light from outside barely reaches the room but enough to barely see him, with his sharp features, the scar near his eye and the tired look on his face.

“You’re really… really too quiet.” you repeat.

Kid glances toward you “What do you want me to do? Start yelling?”

“Maybe.”

“Tch.”

You smile softly as the silence comes back but this one feels different… more comfortable.

You watch the rain through the small window.

Then another thought slips out before you can stop it “Have you ever slept like this with someone?”

The second the words leave your mouth you freeze and your eyes widen “Oh my god.”

Kid looks at you.

You immediately sit up slightly “That sounded wrong.”

He raises a brow.

“I didn’t mean—” you rub your face “No, wait, that sounds worse.”

“You panic fast.”

“Because that sounded weird.”

“You always ask weird questions anyway.”

“I know.” you groan quietly “I meant sharing a bed. Like this. Sleeping. Just… just sleeping.”

You feel heat rise to your face and refuse to look at him. You stare at the blanket instead “Forget it.”

The room stays quiet way longer than expected.

You slowly glance up.

Kid is still looking at you, but he isn't laughing or teasing or smirking.

He watches you with a serious face. Then he finally answers “No.”

You blink.

His voice is quieter than ever.

“No.” he repeats.

Something about that answer makes your chest feel strange.

You start thinking and noticing the weird softness in him. Not in words… never in words with him. But in the small things, like the way he offered to sleep on the floor first, the blanket he pulled higher toward you, the way he never moved away.

It surprises you.

You relax back into the pillow “You’re different when nobody’s around.”

Kid looks back at the ceiling “Don’t say weird things.”

“It’s true.”

“You talk too much.”

You smile faintly “You don’t deny it.”

He clicks his tongue softly.

The room slowly grows quieter and your eyes become heavier.

You yawn softly and Kid glances toward you “Tired?”

“Mhm.”

“Finally.”

You close your eyes “You sound relieved.”

“I am.”

“Rude.”

“You'll survive.”

You smile weakly with your eyes closed and slowly you drift asleep.

Morning comes gently with soft light through the windows.

You stay half asleep for a moment, feeling weirdly safe and protected.

Then slowly, you realize something, so you fastly open your eyes and freeze.

Your face rests against Kid’s chest while his arm is wrapped around your waist.

Your leg tangled slightly with his.

You stare and your brain stops working completely.

You slowly lift your head and see that Kid is still asleep. His face looks softer now, less sharp.

You stay still even though you should move.

But instead you just look at him, because somehow this feels right.

The reason you slept so well is him.

His arm tightens slightly, making you freeze again.

Then his eyes slowly open. He still looks sleepy and unfocused.

He blinks once and then he notices you, the position and the closeness.

You wait for his teasing, for his sarcasm, for his annoyance.

Instead… he just looks at you quietly.

Neither of you moves and neither of you says anything.

You realize your hand rests against his chest and that you can feel his heartbeat.

Kid glances down briefly, then back to your face.

“You drool in your sleep.” he mutters.

You stare “You ruined the moment.”

“There was a moment?”

“Obviously.”

“Tch.”

You narrow your eyes “You’re impossible.”

“And yet you’re still here.”

You don’t answer because you don't need to.

And slowly without thinking too much, you lean closer.

Kid stays still watching and waiting.

Your forehead brushes his first, then your lips meet, softly and carefully.

Different from what you expected.

Kid’s hand moves slowly against your back and the kiss deepens slightly.

When you pull back slightly you stay close and still wrapped together, warm.

Kid looks at you quietly then he mutters “You think too much.”

You smile softly “And you pretend not to.”

The first one hoisted a huge chocolate-frosted doughnut over his head, beaming proudly.

"We purchased the finest Corioli cacao we could find on the black market and combined it with milk from a cow grazed on a Sky Island whose life was free from stress and woe! The resulting chocolate is rich and ideal to dollop atop this giant doughnut!"

The second one lifted up a chocolate doughnut with strawberry cream, smiling widely.

"And for this one, we whipped the highest grade cream, which we received fresh from the great Minister Opera himself. The icing is meticulously decorated and topped with a strawberry to make this masterpiece a feast for the eyes, before it becomes entombed within your grateful belly!"

The third one raised a yellow doughnut, topped with decadent powdered sugar, slightly wobbling.

"We also prepared a doughnut topped with a sugar favored by Celestial Dragons, which brings out the spiciness of the Meylon Cinnamon baked into its dough, along with this and that and the other thing, too, of course!"

Together they twirled, utterly elated by the fine work you curated.

"And it is all thanks to Lady (y/n)'s unparalleled baking prowess! It is a true honor and privilege to work alongside her in the kitchen! So please enjoy this sublime sweetness!"

But, sadly, Katakuri had completely tuned them out.

Their entire explanation went completely unheard, the Sweet Commander more concerned with your absence than anything else.

Brows furrowing, his eyes quickly flicked around the cart, failing to sense your presence anywhere remotely nearby.

'(y/n)...'

It was routine that you join him for his merienda's everyday, rain or shine.

The patissiers would roll you in along with his ginormous bushel of doughnuts, your smile blinding as you greeted and joined him inside his mochi shrine.

There, you would feed him your sweet treats and whisper sweet nothings as he recounted his day to you, and you yours, resting in each other's embrace as you relished the little time together you two were able to make within your busy lives.

It was the only time of the day the man looked forward to.

And it was being tampered with.

"Where is she?"

His voice was like a wave of ice extinguishing any sort of jovial mood the chefs had established, replace their joy with potent fear.

Instantly, a frigid shiver rolled down their spines, their little bodies going rigid with terror.

"W-Well, you see—!"

"We are sworn to secrecy by the Lady herself!"

"She ordered us to remain silent about her whereabouts as not to disrupt your merienda!"

"We—!"

Abruptly lunging forward, Katakuri yolked up the first chef by the collar of his uniform, the man letting out a fearful yelp as the Sweet Commander pulled him closer with a deadly glare.

He allowed his Conqueror's haki to flow freely from his body, blanketing the entire space under an immense and overwhelming pressure—so much so that it knocked the other two chefs out cold.

His tone was deadly serious, and leaving no room for argument.

"Where. Is. My. Wife?"

"Mocha, honey, keep stirring that curd!" you instructed, frantically, as you added the yeast to the second batch of doughnut scald. "Don't stop 'til it's nice and fluffy!"

"Yes, mama!" your young daughter nodded, expression determined as she fervently mixed the large vat of lemon filling, despite the growing weakness in her arms.

She had been stirring vigorously for the past thirty minutes straight, and there was only so much an eight year-old girl could take.

"We're running out of time!" Soda exclaimed, worried, as he peeked out the window, the rumblings coming from outside shaking the foundation of your large bakery. "Grandma's gonna be here any second!"

"We're working as fast as we can!" Cocoa grunted, finally finishing the third batch of dough.

"I don't understand!" Latte squealed, running to assist her little sister in stirring the curd.

"She was all the way on the north side five minutes ago! How did she get here so fast?!" Frappe added, following after.

"Anything's possible for your grandmother when it comes to dessert," you huffed, finishing up the fourth batch of dough. "I've learned that the hard way."

"Well, we're losing ground fast! Daifuku just got sent flying!" Chai exclaimed, his little eyes wide with horror as he watched his uncle soar through three buildings.

"That's it. I gotta go help," Soda quickly turned, storming toward the door.

"Absolutely not!" you shut down, instantly. "Nothing can stop your grandmother during one of her hunger pangs! You'd be needlessly putting yourself in danger!"

"I have to do something! I'm a minister!"

Soda was your firstborn son, the eldest of your six children and the pride and joy of the Big Mom pirates.

He was a prodigy, his power already nearing that of a Sweet Commander at the young age of twenty-one—he happened across the Fizz-Fizz fruit at a very young age, turning himself into a Carbonation-Man

With a bounty of 850 million, he was powerful enough to be asked out on his own solo missions, as well as join his countless aunts and uncles on their expeditions.

And to put the icing on the cake, he had set the record for youngest minister, having been appointed as the Minister of Fizz two years prior.

Your son was progressing in leaps and bounds, his dream of taking after his father coming to fruition more and more with each passing day.

But... where he took after Katakuri in prowess, he also took after him in his all-encompassing sense of duty.

"Stay here! Keep working on the doughnut!" he exclaimed, rushing out of the bakery. "I'll try and slow her down!"

"Soda!"

"Big brother!"

But he was already gone, leaping into the air to assist Smoothie.

"Mama, mama! The curd is finished!" Mocha reported, running over to tug at your dress.

"Good job, honey," you nodded, patting her on the head. "All right, kids, this is the moment of truth! Your brother's buying us some time so we've gotta hurry!"

"Right!"

"Chai, go get the other two batches of dough out the chiller!"

He nodded, quickly running to the back to go retrieve it.

"Latte! Frappe! Start combining the dough we have out here!"

The twins rushed toward the large bowls, already starting to dump them out onto the flour-covered counter.

"Mocha, go make sure the fryers are hot, then come back and help your brother combine the first batch!"

"You got it, mama!"

She turned and sprinted to the back room, running as fast as her little legs would carry her.

"Cocoa, you're with me! We're gonna finish up the glaze you started earlier!"

"Got it!" Cocoa nodded, running over to the bowl of half-finished glaze she had set aside.

"(y/n)!" Brûlée frantically exclaimed, popping her head out of a mirror in the kitchen. "It's getting bad! Mama's heading right this way!"

"I know! I know! We're moving as fast as we can!" you huffed, frantically stirring the second bowl of glaze.

"Well, it's not fast enough! Mont-d'Or wants to know how much longer this is going to take! This whole island is about to get leveled!"

"If Mama gets a mediocre doughnut then this island really will get leveled!" you scoffed, brows furrowed. "This is my specialty! Just let me handle this and everything'll be—"

"MAMA! GRANDMA'S HERE!" Mocha shrieked, trembling with terror as she stared out the window.

The Yonko's footfalls began to thoroughly shake the bakery, knocking over sacks of flour, breaking tables, and completely destroying shelves.

"No! It's too soon!" you gasped, quickly putting down the bowl and rushing toward the door. "Cocoa, take over! You know what to do!"

"Wha—?! Mom!"

"Don't stop working!"

Frantically, you burst out of the bakery, eyes wide to see that Big Mom was—in fact—right at your doorstep.

"I WANT MY DOUGHNUT! BRING ME MY LEMON DOUGHNUT NOW!"

"Mama!" you shouted, protectively extending your arms out in front of your beloved bakery. "Your doughnut is almost ready! Just give us a little bit more time!"

"WHERE IS MY DOUGHNUT, GIRL! BECAUSE ALL I WANT IS MY DOUGHNUT!"

"We're making it as fast as we can! We just need a few more minutes to get it just right! You have my word!"

"Mom, no!" Soda called, eyes wide with fear as he watched from a distance. "Get out of the way!"

"(y/n), forget it! It's no use!" Smoothie exclaimed. "Run!"

"No! I will not let her destroy everything we've worked for!"

"OUT OF MY WAY!"

In an instant, you were encompassed by an ominous aura, the feeling not at all foreign as you had witnessed the power countless times before.

'Soul Pocus...'

"IS IT LIFE?! OR TREAT?!"

"NO!" Soda shouted, about to rush toward you before Oven and Smoothie grabbed him up, holding him back.

"Not life or treat!" Opera winced.

"She's gonna steal her lifespan away!" Galette cried

"Mama, you can't! She's family! You'll get your dessert soon enough, just hold on!" Mont-d'Or attempted to reason.

"Mama, have mercy!" Smoothie exclaimed.

Brows furrowing, you stood strong, not budging an inch as she stared you down.

"I'm sorry, Mama! But it's just not ready yet!" you stated, cooly.

"Oh, you're gonna be sorry!" she bellowed, her glare intensifying. "I SAID... LIFE OR TREAT!"

Now, on any other day—where it was just you and your troop of bakers—you would have certainly had your soul ripped right out, the fear of your mother-in-law too great to fight off.

But this day was different.

This day... your children were thrown into the mix.

If Big Mom killed you before they finished the doughnut, then they would certainly be slaughtered right alongside.

And with your husband away on the outermost islands of Totto Land, and Soda held back by his uncles, there was no one else left to protect them in that outcome.

So... it didn't matter if it was Kaido, or Big Mom, or whoever.

You were willing to fight off all the emperors at once if it meant keeping your babies safe.

Your brows furrowed, all your fear seeming to dissipate into nothing, molding itself in the shape of pure, unwavering determination.

She wouldn't lay a finger on your children.

Not if you had anything to say about it.

Lunging forward, she attempted to grab your soul, but was thoroughly shocked to find that nothing had appeared in her grasp.

Your soul was perfectly intact.

"Your grandchildren are working diligently to bring the doughnut to perfection! If you could only wait just a little while longer!"

"Not necessary!" a familiar voice cut through the tense air, putting you at ease almost instantly.

"Look! Up there!"

"It can't be!"

"But it is!"

"It's...! It's...!"

"IT'S KATAKURI!"

As he soared through the air—humongous doughnut in hand—everyone watched with awe and relief, your husband a marvel to watch as he valiantly swooped in to save the day.

"Mama! Open wide!"

Using his Mochi-Mochi power, he launched his hand forward, harshly shoving the decadent doughnut into his mother's mouth, effectively halting her Soul Pocus.

For a moment... there was a pause.

The entirety of Whole Cake Island stood still, waiting with bated breath for Big Mom's reaction.

"Mama mama! How delicious! This is the best doughnut I've ever tasted!"

Together, everyone let out a unanimous sigh of relief, some even falling out on the floor.

"Mama is successfully subdued! I repeat! Mama is successfully subdued!" Mont-d'Or announced into his transponder snail. "Let's switch gears toward repairing damage. Toot sweet!"

"Lady (y/n) did it!"

"The island is saved!"

"That's our (y/n) for you!"

"Perfect as ever!"

"Oh, thank, God," you exhaled, breathless, as Big Mom's aura finally released you, allowing your legs to buckle.

"(y/n)!" Katakuri quickly landed next to you, catching your limp body before you could fall. "Are you all right?! What happened?!"

"Your mother happened," you sighed, allowing your head to drop against his chest. "One of her hunger pangs."

His eyes widened, a future where things could've gone very wrong flashing through his mind.

"And you didn't call me? I told you to make me aware when a situation like this occurs," he asked, tone rising—more out of fear of what could've been than actual frustration.

"It was time for your merienda... and you've been working so hard lately," you muttered. "I thought you deserved a break from all this."

"Not when it comes to your safety... or the children's," he shook his head. "You all are my utmost priority. More than my merienda."

Realizing your miscalculation, your cheeks warmed, suddenly feeling foolish.

"Sorry, Kuri," you sighed, allowing yourself to melt into his touch. "I dropped the ball, didn't I?"

At the nickname, Katakuri flushed under his scarf, eyes averting from your adorably apologetic expression before he turned even more red.

"I'm just glad you're all right," he caved, all will to chide effectively oozing from his body. "Rest for now."

"Mom!" Soda exclaimed running toward you both. "Are you all right?! That was insane! I've never seen anyone withstand Soul Pocus before!"

You scoffed, shaking your head.

"I assure you, I wouldn't be able to do that again in a million years."

"Soda, ensure your sisters and Chai are all right. Then send for cleanup within a bakery," Katakuri ordered, starting off in the opposite direction. "Assist Mont-d'Or in heading the repair efforts. I'm leaving this mess in your hands."

"You got it!" he nodded, turning around to join the Minister of Cheese in his work.

"Wait... Kuri, I have to help, too," you started, attempting to sit up.

"You have done enough," he denied, tightening his hold on you. "They can take things from here."

"But—"

"No buts... You'll be joining me for the rest of the day."

Confused, you raised a brow, unsure of what he was talking about.

"Joining you? ...For what?"

Knowingly, he glanced down at you, heart pounding against his chest once again at the sight of your perfect face.

How he got so lucky, he would never know.

"We still have time for our merienda. If... you're all right with cold tea?"

Warmed by his shy kindness, you were unable to fight the smile rising to your lips, his ears burning with embarrassment in the adorable way you loved.

He was cute when he wasn't acting all tough.

"Iced tea's perfect... Lead the way."

Squeezing tighter, he kneaded the supple flesh, strengthening his hold as he adopted a quicker, rougher pace.

"O-Oh, yes! Ngh! Kuri-Kuri f-fuck," you keened, the air in your lungs slowly but surely leaving you. "Feels s'good!"

Your cries drifted far past the room, so far that the Sweet General was sure the servants within the maid's quarters could hear them.

But he wanted you louder.

He wanted you shrieking.

He had wanted this for so long, wanted to feel the way you fit him.

Wanted to hear the way you spoke his name wrapped in pleasure.

Everything of you, he wanted.

Needed.

Katakuri needed you.

Somehow, he'd managed to hold out for this long, but his luck wouldn't last with the way you were clawing the comforter, moans rising as he switched angles.

But in an instant, it was all snatched away.

Breathless, Katakuri shot straight up in his bed, heart thundering in his chest.

Swallowing thickly, he quickly glanced down at his lap, his cum hot and sticky against his skin, and his half-chubbed length angrily confined by his boxers.

It happened again...

A faint flush of pink rose to his cheeks at the sight, the Yonko commander swiftly brought back to the countless other nights where he had awoken to the same scene.

There was something about you, something about your presence that instantly returned him to his teen years—where an ass and a couple of moans could make him cum in his pants.

God, this was wrong.

You were so kind, so sweet, yet his dreams consisted of nothing but ruining you for any and every other man to follow him.

Unable and unwilling to reckon with what your image had just done to him, he settled for flopping back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling with a blank, annoyed look.

How the hell was he going to face you tomorrow?

"Ah, Commander!" you beamed, warmly waving to the man as he entered through your large door. "I was just about to send Kota."

Quickly, you scurried toward your display case, pulling out the tray with ten, normal-sized doughnuts of varying flavors.

"I've got the samples you ordered right here. Freshly glazed."

Silently, the man nodded, fighting off the flush threatening to rise to his ears as he crossed his arms over his chest.

He avoided all eye contact with you, making a point to look anywhere but your smiling face as he leaned against the wall.

Every time he met your gaze, images of last night would flash in mind, further adding to the pit of guilt already sinking in his chest for thinking of you in such a way.

It made him feel dirty, and suddenly undeserving of your kindness

"Kota, come box these up for me, yeah?" you called, your young apprentice quickly scurrying to your aid.

"Yes, ma'am!" he nodded, carefully taking the tray before returning to the back room

His eagerness made you smile, the sight intensifying the rhythm of Katakuri's heartbeat as he watched you return to your work.

"I know it's not your usual, but I think you'll like the new blueberry lemon doughnut I made this morning," you attempted to strike up a conversation, going back to glazing the rest of the morning's doughnuts. "Smoothie came by earlier and said it's her favorite so far."

Katakuri hummed, seemingly uninterested in what you had to say as he glanced around your huge bakery—the size was accommodating to commoners as well as those of his height.

Confused, your face slightly fell, unsure of what you did to warrant such a cold response.

Sure, the Minister of Flour was not the warmest person you'd ever met, but he certainly wasn't this icy.

Especially not to you.

You figured the both of you were far past this stage, having gone through the whole "stoic and silent" rigmarole months ago.

It took ages to get the Minister of Flour to warm up to you even a little bit, but when he did?

The change was like night and day.

He turned off his observation haki for the first time in...well, who knows how long.

He allowed himself to participate in easy conversation.

Hell, once you could've swore he let out a quiet chuckle at a joke you made.

But all of that seemed to be completely gone now, as if it were never there.

You were one of the Big Mom Pirate's closest and most trusted personal bakers, so you had dealt with your fair share of volatile personalities.

But his was odd, even for a Charlotte.

Just then, the bell on your door let out a delightful little jingle, snapping both yours and Katakuri's attention to the familiar face walking in.

Your eyes went wide, before your brows quickly furrowed in an unsavory scowl.

"Get out."

At that, the man laughed, amused by your somewhat poor attempt at intimidation.

"That's how it is? No hello or how are ya?" he sneered, slowly walking up to the counter.

"Get the hell out of here, Gino! I told you I never wanted to see your face again!"

"(y/n)... baby... c'mon... you really meant tha—?"

"Every damn word," you swiftly answered, taking a large, tentative step back as he continued to approach. "Don't come any closer!"

"Or what? You'll bake me to death? Turn me into a jelly doughnut?" he smirked, mockingly.

You scoffed, quickly turning around and rushing into the backroom, "Kota! Get my bat!"

Annoyed, Gino let out a harsh sigh, moving to lean against the counter before glancing at the Sweet Commander.

"Women, amiright?" he griped, rolling his eyes as he pointed his thumb in your direction. "All this drama for what? Gimme a few minutes to talk and she'll be crawlin' back in no time."

He chuckled to himself, seemingly proud of this "fact".

"She always does."

A vein bulged in Katakuri's forehead at the statement, the furrow in his brows deepening and muscles tightening in an instant.

As he watched your interaction, he waited patiently, gauging your reaction to the man and the danger level in order to plan his response accordingly.

'Looks like they had some sort of romantic relationship... an ex-boyfriend, perhaps?'

Audibly, you were rummaging around in storage, frantically searching for your father's prized baseball bat.

'If she feels such a need to arm herself, then he must have a history of violent behavior... an interaction like this must've turned physical before.'

The man's jaw clenched at the thought, a certain feeling bubbling in his stomach the he had never felt before.

It made him want to gag and flay Gino's remains after a Mochi-flavored beat-down.

'It's settled then.'

"Hey, I just realized... aren't you the—?"

Without hesitation, Katakuri cut off his sentence, his mochi arm wrapping tightly around the scumbag's neck before hoisting him in the air and dragging him forward, until he was finally at his level.

"I am only going to say this once. Fail to follow direction and I will not hesitate to kill you along with your entire family... understand?"

Frantically, the man nodded, utterly wracked with fear.

"Good... now, when I release you, you are going to take the first ship off Whole Cake, continuing to travel on until you make it to Cacao Island. There, you will effectively leave Mama's territory and begin your pitiful attempt at surviving in the New World without her protection."

His grip tightened, further constricting the man's airflow as he continued on.

"If you do not get on that ship, I will know. If you turn around, I will know. If you do not reach Cacao Island by the end of the day, I will know."

Suddenly, an imaged of you flashed in his mind, reminding him of the ultimate reason for his fury.

"And if you so much as look at... think of... or utter my fiancée's name in my presence again... I will see to it personally that your body is put six feet under the ground."

Pulling him closer, Katakuri didn't stop until his face was right in front of Gino's, his fiery, ruby red eyes blazing fiercer than the pits of hell.

See, what Gino couldn't have possibly known was that last night the Sweet Commander had attended an emergency summons from his mother, where he learned that he was engaged to be married to one of Whole Cake Island's most eligible bachlorettes.

You.

Of course, it was a strictly political contract between his mother and your father, and given your rather normal reaction to seeing him in the shop today, he figured your father had failed to tell you yet about the arrangement.

But even still... he now had a responsibility to you.

A responsibility he would not take lightly.

"Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear?"

Unable to speak, Gino simply nodded in agreement, practically paralyzed with fear.

With that response, Katakuri swiftly tossed him to the ground, allowing the man to scurry to his feet like the vermin he was.

"Good... now get out of my sight."

The Sweet Commander didn't even fully finish his sentence before Gino was already on the run, sprinting toward the nearest port like a madman.

The sight almost brought a smile to Katakuri's face, were it not for his haki predicting your well-timed approach.

"All right, asshole, you wanna try me now!" you spat, bursting from the backroom with bat in hand.

But, to your surprise, your ex-boyfriend was nowhere to be found, only Katakuri remaining within your small lobby.

"Huh? Where'd he go?" you asked, raising a brow in confusion.

"Away," he answered, curtly, crossing his arms over his chest once again.

"Damn... I really wanted to use this on him..."

"Commander Katakuri, sir!" Kota rushed forward, running out from behind the counter before presenting the man your signature box. "Your sample doughnuts, as requested. I apologize for the wait."

Taking them, he offered a thankful nod, carefully tucking them against his side.

"No need. I understand the... odd circumstances," slowly, his gaze turned to you, his expression somehow turning more serious than it already was. "But doughnuts aren't all I came here for."

For the first time in a long time, nerves seemed to be fluttering in his belly, rendering him partially immobile under your soft gaze.

But he was doing what had to be done.

A woman deserved to know she was getting married before the day of her wedding.

And a woman deserved to know why.

"(y/n)... you and I need to talk... Alone."

It had been a little over a year since your union with the Minister of Flour—which you supposed was pleasant enough as far as political marriages went.

Of course, with Katakuri being her favorite son, Big Mom went out of her way to host a humongous, opulent wedding, which blew all others out of the water even for generations to come.

Major players from all over the world came to witness the spectacular sight, and all at once you were thrust into a realm of pirates, criminals, and racketeers, a humble baker's daughter suddenly a permanent member of the infamous Charlotte family.

Promptly, you were moved into his mansion on Komugi Island, where—unbeknownst to the public—you lived relatively separate lives.

Of course, the Sweet Commander wasn't heartless, and did his best to assist you in the transition in his own Katakuri-ish way.

He left himself open to any questions as far as how things worked among the crew, or identifying who was family and who was not.

But anything beyond that, sadly, was left entirely up to you.

You did your best to spend as much time with him as possible—despite your relatively busy schedule—hoping to learn more about your newlywed husband past Sweet Commander and strong.

Diligently, you worked, suffering through a year of respective isolation.

A year of stolen glances...

A year of fleeting touches...

A year of reddened interactions...

Within that time, you were able to find a few chinks in his armor, a small sum of instances in which a brief glimmer of the true, kind, generous Katakuri shined through.

And it was within those instances that you began to develop a crush on your husband.

All that, combined with a few external pressures of image and status, eventually led you to this very moment.

This moment... being where you were pushing a cart of your husband's favorite tea in nothing but a dangerously short, practically see-through, (f/c) nightgown.

And not only were you wearing the tiniest excuse for a dress known to man, but you were also wearing it... commando.

Safe to say, you felt completely foolish.

But, if there was one thing you were, it was determined, and you refused to back out now after coming so far.

Besides, wives did surprises like this for their husbands all the time...

Right?

Finally reaching Katakuri's mochi shrine, you smiled, pleased by the sight of the three patissiers diligently standing watch.

It warmed you to see the regard in which his crew—and in extension, his family—held him to.

They all thought so highly of him, and you couldn't help but think the same.

There was something about your husband that was innately regal, innately noble.

He carried himself with an air that made others instantly fall in line, so much so that it even had you straightening your back in his presence.

But intimidation be damned, you had a mission to complete.

'Time to turn on the charm...'

"Hiya, boys!" you waved, carefully making your way over to the chefs.

"Lady (y/n)!" they all exclaimed together, thoroughly surprised as they lowered themselves in a respectful bow. "It's an honor! To what do we owe the pleasure!"

Innocently, you shrugged, lazily leaning against the cart.

"Oh, nothing serious. I'm just hear to deliver my husband's tea. You forgot it in your rush and I figured it'd be a shame to let it all go to waste."

Visibly, a terrified quiver rolled down their spines, the fact finally donning on them that they had, indeed, forgotten the tea.

"Oh, dear! Please forgive us!" they instantly fell to your feet, wracked with fear. "It was an accident! The kitchen was completely backed up and we didn't want to keep General Katakuri waiting!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, take it easy," you assured, lifting their chins and greeting their sniveling faces with a smile. "It's all right. Things like this happen, and you chefs have a lot on your plate. I have the tea right here, so it's no harm, no foul."

Instantly, their glassy eyes turned starry, their cheeks dusting with a faint shade of pink at your gentleness.

A normal Charlotte would've at least slapped them around a bit.

'How kind! Lady (y/n) is the sweetest!'

"Anyways, I'll go drop this off to him then be on my way. Thanks a bunch!"

Instantly, a record scratch echoed within the bakers' ears, each one of them turning stark white as you began to push the cart toward the shrine.

"No! My Lady! You can't!" they exclaimed, protectively jumping in front of you and blocking your path.

Confused, you raised a brow, halting your movement.

"Huh? Why not?"

"It's not just you," the first one started, warily. "They say no one has ever caught General Katakuri in the act of eating."

"He's ceaselessly vigilant, and can't let his guard down, even during a snack," the second one chimed.

"The point of tea time is to unwind with friends," the third nodded, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. "But for him, it's a joyless act of nutritional intake and solemn meditation for his next battle."

"Well, I'm sure he can make an exception. I'm his wife after all," you attempted to reason. "Besides, I'm just giving him some tea, then I'll be on my way."

"Madam, you don't understand," the first one shook his head. "He is communing with the God of War's spirit in a solemn ceremony of the utmost dignity."

"It's a religious experience for him," the second one agreed. "No one can be allowed to... intrude?"

Somehow, you had managed to vanish into thin air right before their eyes, the tea cart being the only thing remnant of you left behind.

"Wha—? Where did she—MY LADY, NO!"

They all turned around, only to find that you were already sneaking into the shrine, carefully opening the sliding door before closing it behind you.

'You've piqued my interest, dear husband...'

"SHE'S DONE FOR!"

Now that you were really thinking about it, in the entire time you'd known him—even pre-marriage—you had failed to ever see Katakuri eat, much less pull down that scarf of his.

It made you curious.

It made you painfully curious.

Slowly creeping in, you were surprised by a rather melodic voice, which sounded an awful lot like singing.

"🎶 Oh, doughnuts! I love to eat doughnuts! Even the hole's a treat, doughnuts! 🎶"

Looking closer, you were finally able to see that it was your dear husband, lazying lazily with his back to the ground as he filled his rather large and pointy maw with your sweets.

'I don't believe it...'

Your eyes widened, face heating up at the sight of him so relaxed and happy.

Forget rare, it was a once in a lifetime sight.

And you were eating up every second.

'Commune with the Warrior God my butt... he just likes his doughnuts.'

"🎶 A snack attack, doughnuts! Lying on my back, doughnuts! A forbidden sweet, always knocks me off my feet! Doughnuts! 🎶"

He grinned, grabbing another one of your mouth-watering doughnuts with glee.

"🎶 This is my secret garden, filled with doughnuts! No judgement, just doughnuts! 🎶"

Though, in an instant, it was all undone.

In a moment of clarity, his haki had finally kicked in, revealing your presence to him as clear as day.

His breath hitched, eyes widening as they finally settled on you, meekly hiding in the corner.

His jovial mood melted faster than soft butter in a hot pan, and his entire aura shifted from merry to deadly as he quickly covered his mouth.

"(y/n)!" he growled, eyes blazing with fury. "What are you doing here?!"

"Katakuri, I—EEK!"

Your sentence was cut short as a mochi appendage wrapped tightly around your waist, harshly yanking you forward and toward him.

"What did you see?! Tell me!"

"Just you eating! Nothing else!"

"Why did you come here?!"

"The chefs forgot your tea at my bakery, so I came to deliver it for you!" you strained, struggling against his tightening grip. "Kata...kuri...! ...You're hurting me!"

"Don't you understand! You weren't supposed to find out!"

His entire world felt as if it was crumbling around him, the weight of what you had just discovered weighing heavily on his psyche.

This wasn't how he wanted you to learn about his true self.

Hell, he didn't want you to learn about it at all.

He wanted to remain the pillar of perfection and strength you had built up in your mind, remain the noble man you had come to know as your husband.

Sure, due to his stoic nature, the two of you weren't the closest, but one thing he learned while in your prolonged presence was that you had the annoying habit of being effortlessly charming.

Your blind kindness and persistent optimism were a stark contrast to his cold calculation, and thusly forced a fondness to fester deep within his chest from the moment you met.

He valued your opinion more than he'd ever admit to anybody, and now you saw him as nothing more than a monstrous fool.

A fate worse than death.

"Find out what?! What are you talking about?!" you winced, attempting to gain some wiggle room.

"My mouth, (y/n)! You saw it!"

"Yeah, so?! Why are you freaking out?!"

At that, he froze, eyes slightly widening with surprise.

'...What?'

"You're not... disgusted?" he asked, completely and utterly confused.

"Why would I be? There's nothing wrong with them," you raised, a brow, confused yourself by the outlandish question. "Katak...uri! ...You're... still squeezing me!"

Quickly, he loosened his grip—though not letting go—allowing you to take in a nice, deep breath.

"I'm... I don't understand," he stumbled, uncharacteristically, desperately attempting to grasp the words coming out of your mouth.

"Is that what you think of yourself? Disgusting?" you asked, brows furrowed with concern. "'Cause that's completely untrue, and it's important to me that you know that."

Dumbstruck, the Sweet Commander could only watch as you stared up at him with admiration, his arm seeming to have a mind of its own as it carefully lowered you to the ground, handling your body with the care of a porcelain doll.

Warmly, you smiled at him, sending his heart into a frenzy as you rested your soft hand against his toned chest, not breaking eye contact for a moment.

"You are Charlotte Katakuri," you started, proudly. "Sweet Commander... Strongest of the Big Mom Pirates... Pride of the Charlotte family..."

You paused a moment, giggling softly.

"Lover of Doughnuts..."

The man flushed, suddenly reminded of the rather poor singing you had been subjected to earlier.

How embarrassing.

"Your perfectly normal mouth doesn't take away from any of that," you continued, sincerely. "And if anything, it amplifies them because it is a part of you."

Slowly, you hand trailed up to cup his cheek, not shying away even when he flinched.

You saw absolutely nothing wrong with the way he looked, and if anything loved it even more.

'I knew he was handsome, but I never thought...'

"You've been holding out on me, Commander," you teased, very pleased by the sight before you. "Who knew my husband was so gorgeous."

At your praise, the general flushed redder than a cherry, unequipped for any sort of response to such a compliment.

"I..."

He froze, his gaze finally trailing lower and landing on your outfit.

In an instant, his throat went dry, hands suddenly becoming clammy and internal temperature shooting through the roof.

"(y/n)... what are you wearing?"

Glancing down at yourself, you suddenly remembered your awkward clothing situation, an embarrassed flush rising to your cheeks.

"Oh! Well...! I read somewhere that wives usually surprised their husbands with gifts like this... so I figured we were overdue..."

You quickly deflated, suddenly incredibly self-conscious under his intense gaze.

"You wanted to surprise me... with lingerie?" he asked, raising a brow.

Your face was as hot as a volcano.

"The woman at the store said it was a nightgown!" you whined, utterly mortified as you slapped your hands on your cheeks. "I didn't realize how short it was until I got home... and I figured it was okay since your guards didn't have much of a reaction."

At that last part, a vein in Katakuri's forehead bulged, his chest swiftly swelling with intense fury—and a hint of jealousy.

The "nightgown" was made of a flimsy, practically see-through silk, the fabric so weak the man was sure he could tear it apart like tissue paper.

Not only that, but the hem came up dangerously high—leaving a bit of your cheeks on display if you moved fast enough—and the neckline came down dangerously low—your breasts threatening to spill out at any moment.

He didn't need haki to sense what his men were thinking seeing you in your outfit.

And he didn't like it one bit.

"The patissiers saw you in this?" he asked, voice deadly calm.

None of this anger was directed toward you, of course, but to the bakers outside that had the privilege of seeing his sweet, beautiful wife so exposed.

"We talked for a bit before I snuck past them," you answered, raising a brow. "Why?"

"I see..."

With your answer, their fates were sealed, your husband already on the move toward the door.

They were all as good as dead.

"Wait, Kuri, no!" you suddenly realized, quickly rushing to block his way. "It's not their fault. They couldn't have known I'd be dressed like this when I came over."

Your eyes shifted, turning pleading as you looked up innocently into his dark-ruby reds.

The sight—along with the use of a new nickname—forced the man to stop in his tracks, blushing like a school boy.

When he became so pathetic, he had no idea.

But he supposed he had you to thank for that.

'Typical...'

With a heavy sigh, he caved, dropping his murder plan and opting to cross his large arms over his broad chest instead.

"Fine..." he nodded, begrudgingly. "But from now on, this outfit stays home."

Relieved, you broke into a wide smile, giving him a playful salute.

"Yes, sir."

Suddenly reinvigorated, you gave him a small spin, modeling the nightgown at all angles.

"But you never told me... do you like it? I mean, was it a good surprise?"

Re-examining you, Katakuri failed to find words to describe how beautiful you looked.

Your every curve was laid out for his viewing pleasure, your natural radiant glow only adding to the appeal.

You were like an angel... an angel that had managed to sneak her way into his secret paradise.

"I... do like it," he stumbled, slightly. "The dress goes well your complexion... and brings out the color in your eyes."

Your eyes widened slightly, pleasantly surprise by the insightful compliment.

He had a lot of sisters.

You keened at his praise, having never heard him say such sweet things.

"You're too good to me," you grinned, eyes flicking from his to his lips with a wanting look. "Can I... Can I kiss you?"

At your request, his eyes practically turned to saucers, the Sweet Commander feeling as if he was about to spontaneously combust.

You?!

And him?!

Kiss?!

Like, right now?!

Like, now now?!

"I... uh..." he stuttered like an idiot, unsure of how to handle this. "Are you sure?"

You suddenly realized how pushy you probably sounded, instantly dialing it back.

"I mean, only if you want to, of course," you sighed, quickly giving up hope. "Y'know what, it's fine. I'm sorry I made this all so weird. I just... I think I'm gonna head back to the bakery—"

"Stay."

Before you knew it, a mochi appendage was wrapping around your waist—its touch infinitely softer than before— preventing you from turning around.

You gasped, slightly surprised as your husband pulled you flush against his chest, looking down at you with an expression you had never seen on him before.

"Just stay," he exhaled, his mochi slowly morphing back into his hand, which rested atop your hip. "If you want to... kiss me... then you can. You're my wife, after all."

At the reminder, your heart skipped a beat, the words sounding even better coming off his tongue.

"Damn right," you grinned, carefully tossing an arm over his shoulder to pull him closer. "And I am very proud."

Unable to respond, the man simply turned rigid, allowing you to move as you pleased.

With bated breath, you leaned in, hooking your manicured finger on the hem of his scarf and carefully tugging it down, going slow since you felt him flinch.

Once again, you were met with the entirety of his handsome face, fangs and scars alike all there for you admire.

A privilege you would not take lightly.

"You are so beautiful, Kuri," you whispered with wonder, cupping his cheek in your soft palm. "I wish you could see what I'm seeing right now."

Nervous, Katakuri was quick to avoid eye contact with you, only humming in response at your praise.

But you moved right on your merry way, allowing your thumb to caress his cheekbone before you finally pressed your plush lips against his, making sure to be wary of his teeth.

But your worries were soon shoved back into the recesses of your mind, making way for the indescribable feeling of utter bliss coursing your veins.

It felt as if you had been struck by lightning and swept off your feet at the same time, the Sweet Commander having to tighten his grip around your waist in order to keep you from toppling over.

He tasted so sweet, and he felt so right, like coming home to a warm hug, or eating a freshly glazed doughnut.

As a child, you never understood what the fairytale books were talking about when they described a kiss as magical.

But now?

It couldn't have made more sense.

Just as quickly as the feeling came, it disappeared, the two of you separating so as not to get too caught up in the moment.

Teasingly, you licked your lips, glancing up at your husband with a mischievous look.

"I'd know my strawberry cream doughnut anywhere," you teased, resting your hand against his chest. "You taste just like 'em."

Flushed, his gaze slid away from you once again, though he managed to keep his hold on your waist.

"There's still more left over.... if you would like to join me for the rest of my merienda?" he suggested, nerves still buzzing through his stomach.

But to his surprise, you nodded vigorously, smiling as brightly as the sun—the sight effectively melting a large chunk of his hardened, mochi heart.

"I'd love to."

Every major player in the New World was in attendance, drinking, laughing, and dancing the night away at what was certainly a celebration for the ages.

Even members of the Charlotte family were joining in on the festivities, serious-types like Perospero and Compote taking a load off for once and enjoying the party.

Hell, Big Mom herself was quite drunk, having broken out into her thirty-second musical number of the night, both her and her screeching homies prancing about the roof of the Whole Cake Chateau with a look of happiness many hadn't seen in a long time.

But, if there was one person who wasn't in the highest of spirits, it was—to no one's surprise—the groom.

With a tired sigh, Katakuri rolled his eyes, ignoring his brothers' inebriated teasing as he hooked a finger on the neck of his tie, loosening it before unbuttoning the top of his dress shirt.

He hated constricting clothes, and was certain if he kept the tie on for any longer, it would strangle him to death.

But, in the same sentiment, he hated everything about this damned wedding.

The bright lights...

The loud music...

The obnoxious party-goers...

Were it not for you—and the rather unscrupulous characters gathered around his family—he would have certainly slipped away by now.

But, alas, it was not in the cards; and he would not be able to truly retire until his mother announced that the party was over.

Which could be hours from now...

At the thought, the furrow in his brows only deepened, turning his gaze into a full-on glower.

"You're rarely this tense, big brother," Amande commented, seemingly out of nowhere, startling Daifuku and Oven.

Of course, Katakuri sensed her coming, and predicted what she was going to say before the words even came out her mouth.

"Should we have reason to to worry?"

Knowingly, Daifuku grinned, waving his little sister off as he poured himself another drink.

"No reason at all," he assured with a slightly teasing tone. "Our brother's just sulking, is all."

"Sulking?!" Cracker exclaimed, drunkenly interrupting the conversation. "At a party like this? With a wife like yours?"

He scoffed, the sound morphing into a boisterous laugh mid-way.

"You're killin' me, big bro."

Lifting his head, Katakuri glanced at his purple-haired sibling, analyzing his uncharacteristic sway and the uneven slur of his words before ultimately surmising that the boy was completely hammered.

'Looks like somebody got into the wine when no one was looking...'

"He does have a point," Oven chimed, thoughtfully, "The party is one thing, but you lucked out in terms of arrangment."

Unanimously, the five turned toward you, each one having their own reaction to the sight laid before them.

You were sitting at the kiddie table, smiling brightly as Smoothie, Citron, and Cinnamon took turns braiding your hair, Galette and Poire at your feet as they played tug-of-war with your veil, baby Raisin cooed softly in your arms.

It was a rather heartwarming sight, which assisted in combating some of Katakuri's tension, allowing his shoulders to sink slightly.

You were so... you that at times it truly baffled the man.

Amidst all this chaos and confusion, all this uncertainty, you still found the strength to remain open-minded and kind, never once becoming cold or changing your tune due to the circumstances.

It was an effectively enviable trait, and one that stupefied him to no end.

How could one woman remain so perfect all the time?

Oven smirked, eyeing you up and down with a rather seedy look.

"Coulda ended up with a lot worse."

Cracker scoffed, pouting like a child as he plopped himself down in an empty chair, dropping his head on the table with a defeated sigh.

"Tch. You can only go down from the top," he grumbled, the booze thoroughly loosening his tongue. "Most eligible hottie in all of Whole Cake... wasted."

Katakuri's jaw ticked at the rather crude comment, forcing him to send a subtle but sharp glare his brother's way.

"Wish Mama had given her to me," Cracker rested his cheek in his palm, donning a rather sleazy smile. "I coulda showed her a whole new world, if you catch my drift."

At that, Daifuku and Oven burst into a fit of laughter, tears welling in their eyes as they slammed their hands on the table, disbelieving of the boy's confidence.

"What would you know, boy?" Daifuku scoffed, thoroughly amused.

"Have you even had your first kiss yet?" Oven raised a brow, honestly skeptical.

Embarrassed, Cracker flushed, sitting up rigidly in his seat.

"Hey, I totally have!" the older teen exclaimed, voice slightly cracking. "I've been with tons of girls!"

"I'm afraid your biscuts don't count!" Daifuku snorted, the comment sending him and Oven falling out of their chairs with hysterics.

Mortified, Cracker turned red as a cherry, furious, as he abruptly stood from the table.

"Screw you guys!" he barked, pointing at the two.

At the pitiful scene, Amande rolled her eyes, face remaining expressionless as always.

"I'd rather she be with Katakuri than you savages," she stated in a monotone. "She's a sweet girl and—"

"Mama mama! Katakuri, tell me!" Big Mom chirped, her drunken footfalls loud and thumping as she made her way over to the siblings. "How is that new wife of yours? Is she enjoying the party?"

Remaining cool, the Sweet Commander simply nodded, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back.

"She is well, Mama," he answered plainly, not giving her much to work with as to avoid any follow-up.

Sadly... it did not work.

"That's wonderful!" she beamed, her happiness that of a pleased child. "Pretty little thing, isn't she? I knew she would be perfect the moment I saw her!"

Suddenly, an idea popped in her head, one that instantly caused her face to brighten.

"As a matter of fact, where is she? I'd love to have a little chat."

The notion sent a cold shiver down the man's spine, the thought of you alone with his mother introducing a certain feeling in his chest that he hadn't felt in a long time.

Fear.

"Actually, Mama, I think (y/n) and I are going to retire," he seamlessly deflected, standing from his seat with effortless ease. "She has a rather early start tomorrow making your congratulatory doughnuts."

His face didn't betray a single thought running through his mind—most of which about all the ways his mother could kill you if you accidentally insulted her during a one-on-one interaction.

Somehow, he had no idea what he'd do were that scenario to occur.

In fact, the mere possibility of it suddenly brought him a sense of overwhelming and all-encompassing dread.

He needed to get out of there.

And fast.

At the mention of desserts, Big Mom's eyes went starry, all memory of what she was originally saying flying out the window.

"I see!" she squealed, suddenly incredibly excited. "Well, then, please! Take her! I can't wait for those sweets tomorrow!"

Curtly, he nodded, smoothly turning on his heel and making his way over to you.

"All right, then. Good night."

Crisis successfully averted.

Internally, Katakuri let out a deep sigh of relief, the tension building in his back slowly melting away the further he got from his mother.

How he was going to keep this up for the rest of his life, he didn't know.

But—as he looked up from the ground, eyes landing on your perfect form—what he did know was that you looked drop-dead gorgeous in your dress, its cut, style, and color embodying you better than he ever could've imagined.

You were so radiant, so naturally brilliant and bright that he often felt blinded by your looks, and effectively intimidated.

You had a certain way of gazing, and a certain way of speaking, that kept him hanging on to your every word—and rendered him suddenly unable to muster his own.

It was all a mess.

A large, political—if he'd ever admit it, romantic—mess.

But, if one thing was for certain, he was pleased to finally have a moment alone with you on your wedding day.

Even if, due to his crippling shyness, it was in relative silence.

"(y/n)," he rasped, eyes weakly fluttering open as you knelt by his side, greeting him with your typical warm smile. "You shouldn't be here... it's not safe."

Carefully, you placed your first aid kit, effortlessly popping the latch and pulling it open.

"You know me better than that," you stated simply, carefully sliding your hand under his head before lifting it up, placing a soft towel as a cushion. "When have I ever been the type to turn tail and run?"

As you rummaged around for a cloth, you found yourself glancing around the space, taking note of the significant damage done to his once safe haven.

"The two of you did quite a number on this place."

"What about the children?" he piped up once again, "Are they—?"

"Safe? Yes," you assured, gently lifting his arm and resting it in your lap before you began to wipe off the blood. "Kota is escorting them away from Mama's disaster path."

"And Soda?"

"Assisting your brothers and sisters in hunting down Strawhat."

You chuckled at the thought, carefully gliding your medical cloth along his strong biceps as you fought off your schoolgirl flush.

"He's actually quite hellbent on bringing the boy to justice."

At the reminder, Katakuri's expression fell to a solemn one, the weight of his predicament suddenly weighing heavy on his battered shoulders.

Here he was, lying in a crater with a hole in his side, bruised and bloody and helpless as his poor wife—who should be the furthest away from all this—tended to his wounds.

This wasn't how it was supposed to go.

This was never how it was supposed to go.

"(y/n)... you're not supposed to see me like this," Katakuri huffed, breathing labored as you moved on to his chest.

Confused, you raised a brow, tilting your head.

"Not supposed to see you how?" you asked, dabbing your cloth on his bloody pec.

"Like this," he grunted, wincing slightly at your touch. "Weak... defeated..."

He shook his head, too ashamed to even look you in the eye.

Time and time again, he found himself fracturing the image of himself he had worked so hard to paint for you, so hard to keep up for you.

How much more disappointment could you take?

He lost, not to any opponent but to a rookie.

And not to any rookie, but to one well under half his age.

A woman such as yourself didn't deserve such inadequacy.

You deserved a strong man, one who never falters; one who remains exactly what he's said to be no matter the circumstances.

And that just... wasn't him.

"My love," you cooed, your hand carefully turning his chin to face you, greeting him with a look of pure devotion. "You are so hard on yourself."

For a moment, you halted your cleaning, dropping your cloth and sliding your hand into his instead, allowing his large fingers to interlock with and envelope yours.

"This weight you've been carrying on your shoulders for so long has been making you forget that you're only human."

Gently, you raised his hand to press against your chest, allowing him to feel the steady rhythm of your heartbeat.

"You've been making yourself out to be invincible and perfect... and for the family's sake, I understand... but the last thing I want you to feel is that you have to keep that up for me... have to feel ashamed of yourself because of me."

Raising higher, you pressed his hand against your cheek, melting into his warm touch.

"You could never, ever be weak to me, Kuri... and losing a duel could never, ever drive me away from you."

His eyes widened, as if that information was news to him.

"I am here and I am by your side because I love all parts of you. No flaw or fault you come up with could possibly change that."

Teasingly, you pressed a soft kiss against the heel of his palm, not breaking eye contact with him for a moment.

"I'm serious. Twenty-seven years in and I've just gotten attached. There's no way you're getting rid of me now."

At your poorly-timed joke, Katakuri couldn't help but let out a small chuckle, amused.

He was never one for jokes before, but when they routinely came from your mouth, one grew fond.

Though, it helped to have a wife as pretty as you.

Taking you by surprise, a mochi appendage suddenly wrapped around your waist, slowly pulling you into his embrace and positioning you in such a way that it allowed him to rest his head against your chest, snuggling closer into your warmth.

"I love you... (y/n)," he muttered into your skin, eyelids already becoming heavy.

At the sight, your heart was practically a puddle on the floor, and you couldn't help but thread your fingers in his soft, spiky hair.

"I love you, too, Kuri," you hummed, resting your chin on top of his head.

The two of you stayed like that for a long while, holding each other and whispering sweet nothings within the comfortable silence.

That is... until Katakuri suddenly became curious.

"(y/n)..." he started, slowly opening his eyes.

"Hm?" you replied, still carding your fingers through his scalp.

"How's Strawhat?"

At the question, you raised a brow, confused as to why he would care.

But catching a glimpse at the look on his face, you instantly knew why.

"You'll be relieved to hear it," you sighed with a slight grumble, glancing up at the countless mirrors surrounding you. "He just left our territory."

Though, already knowing what he was thinking, you were quick to follow up.

"I won't forgive him, y'know... not for this."

But, much to your expectation, he smirked, overcome with an odd sense of pride that the little runt managed to do everything he said he would.

Rolling your eyes, you let out an exasperated sigh, quietly shaking your head.

"I'll never understand you fighting-types..."

Mood brightening, you husband placed a firm kiss on your chest—subconsciously wary of his teeth—before quickly scooping you up, painfully rising to his two feet.

Frantic, your eyes went wide.

"What the—?! Kuri! You shouldn't be moving right now!" you panicked, fawning over him like a worried hummingbird.

"You shouldn't be laying on the ground with me," he stated, smoothly, effortlessly carrying you with one arm. "I'm getting your dress dirty."

"I don't care about my dress! You have a hole in your stomach!"

"We can clean up together at home... I'll have the maids draw a bath."

"Honey, you are really badly hurt right now..."

"Do your feet hurt from running? Do you need me to carry your shoes?"

"Kuri, you don't have to—"

"Are you hungry? Do you want me to stop on the way back and grab something?"

You sighed, having gone through this song and dance before.

If he wasn't spending his time being endlessly harsh on himself, he was spending it being endlessly doting toward you.

Not that you were complaining or anything... but for once in his life, you wanted him to relax.

"Why don't you let me do all this? You should be the one relaxing, not me," you asked, concerned.

"This is how I relax," he nodded, his shoulders already feeling lighter now that he was carrying your shoes for you. "I can't rest until things with you are squared away."

Sensing that he wasn't going to budge, you caved with a sigh, allowing your head to droop against his chest.

"Just... be careful... I don't know how many more surprises I can take today..."

Extended missions were often few and far between for the Sweet Commander—maybe only once or twice a year—but when they came, they were long, and of the utmost importance.

When Big Mom called on him for an assignment, it was because the task required a certain caliber of power and precision that only he possessed, a certain cold calculation that only he could apply.

He was, quite literally, the only man for the job.

And before you became his sweet, little wife, he honestly had no problem with it.

His missions invited excitement and danger into his life, allowing him to face off with opponents relative to his strength and provide brief periods of rest from the ever-constant pressure of being around his family.

He would finally be able to let loose and get back to the true essence of being a pirate past territories and mind-numbing paperwork.

In fact, he would even go as far as to say that they were the times where he was most happy.

But... all of that changed when he finally found a reason to enjoy home.

You.

You eliminated the main reason why he relished staying gone by being your typical, supportive, and understanding self.

Within your presence, he no longer had to worry about remaining flawless or exuding perfection, as you preferred him when he was being his authentic self.

You gave him respite from the perpetual stress he faced due to his family, never asking for or expecting more than what he could offer.

You gave him comfort in times where he began to doubt himself, showering him with praise and sweet nothings as you held him close.

There was no need for missions anymore because he had all the sanctuary he required in you, all the love and care he could ever want right at home.

But, sadly, life had a funny way of dangling happiness just out of his reach.

Stepping up onto the front porch, Katakuri's eyes softened as they landed on the two large flower pots on either side of the door.

Within them were freshly-planted orchids, their rich, pink petals stretching out as far and as wide as his large palm.

Your handiwork, he presumed.

They were your favorite flower, as you often said their color reminded you of his deep, magenta hair.

Little things like that—trivial to others—were the things that made him miss you even more.

Things only you could think of, connections only your beautiful mind could make.

God, he couldn't wait to have you all to himself...

Not wasting another second, he removed his key from his pocket, using it to unlock the door with a loud click.

"Shit!" a soft voice from inside hissed, the sound promptly followed by a rather harsh thud.

Instantly, Katakuri's brows furrowed, sharp pang of fear shooting through his stomach.

'What the...?'

What the hell just scurried across the foyer?

He had only just relieved the guards from their duty—you had security detail at all times when he was absent—and up until then, the huge gate at the entrance of his estate had been locked up tight for the night.

Nothing could've gotten in... and he certainly would've sensed danger if someone were trying to escape.

Tired of supposing, he simply pushed the door open, eyes widening and breath hitching at the sight that greeted him.

"Surprise!" you exclaimed, smile blinding as you happily jumped out from behind a decorative table. "Welcome home, Kuri!"

Somehow, the house had been turned into some sort of makeshift honeymoon suite, the lights dimmed and walkways lined with rose petals and candles, incense filling the room with a light haze, which smelled of sandalwood and jasmine.

To his right was a small, candlelit dinner for two, sashimi and beef tataki lining the plates along with two glasses of premium wine to match.

To his left was a flowery trail leading right upstairs, the soft hum of a music transponder snail adding to the atmosphere as it played lowly in the background.

And there, at the middle of it all, was you...

Katakuri's heart practically stuttered to a stop, eyes widening slightly as he caught sight of your soft form.

You stood shyly, delicious curves on display in the very nightgown you had tried—and succeeded—seducing him in during your first merienda together.

Your hair, freshly washed, cascaded beautifully over your shoulders, framing your face and slightly shading your eyes in a way that gave his hands an itch to rake through it.

Not to mention your newly-lotioned skin glowing in the soft candlelight, making you look so smoothe and soft and primed for holding.

"(y/n)..." he started, both confused and painfully aroused, as he shut the door behind himself, locking it. "What... are you doing?"

You faltered, an awkward expression settling on your face.

"Being... romantic?"

Katakuri paused a moment, waiting to see if you'd change your answer, before a dark tinge of blush began to burn on his cheeks.

Instantly, your face flushed, embarrassment beginning to sink in at his silence.

Your worst fear had been realized.

"Oh, my God, you hate it," you muttered, utterly mortified as you clasped a hand over your mouth.

Something had told you to ask him first rather than make it a surprise, but you just had to get excited and jump the gun.

And now you were paying the price.

"What? N-No!" he stumbled, not wanting you to get the wrong idea. "I don't hate it... I'm just..."

He let out a heavy sigh, shrugging off his cloak and scarf, hanging them up on the rack before starting toward you.

"This was unexpected, is all."

Nervously, your lip jutted in a slight pout, your eyes avoiding all contact with the man as he moved closer.

"I thought you deserved something nice after being away for so long... since this is the first time we've been apart," you limply explained, turning away from him. "But I guess it's all kinda cheesy..."

As he moved to stand in front of you, Katakuri's forefinger and thumb came up to hold your chin, turning you to face him where you were met with a soft kiss to your hairline.

Your eyes widened, and as quickly as he came, he left, leaving you slightly stunned.

"It's sweet," he corrected, thumb smoothing over the skin of your cheek. "I can tell you put a lot of effort into this"

You perked up at the last part, turning to him eagerly, eyes glinting with hope.

"Really?" you asked, sounding surprised, your expression downright adorable.

Suddenly, the music, the clothes, and the absolutely tantalizing scent of you began to work their magic on him.

All of his thoughts and reason faded into thin air as he stared into your gorgeous, doe eyes.

"Really," he confirmed, voice low and wanting.

And you could only let out a tiny gasp as he pulled you in, pressing his lips against yours to finally claim you after all this time.

You went completely slack in his hold, sinking into the kiss with another small gasp as his tongue parted your lips.

Finding a hold on his shoulders, your hands clung tightly to him, moving to press your body against him as much as humanly possible.

Your craving for more of him was cut short as he broke the kiss, pulling away from you as he cupped your face.

His thumb ran softly over your lips, leaving you unable to respond, still dumbstruck by his sudden burst of confidence.

His hand moved gently down your neck, sliding the strap of your nightgown down your shoulder ever so slightly, you letting out a timid whimper.

Katakuri's face looked to yours as you turned away, embarrassed by the noise that escaped you.

He flushed from ear to ear, pleasantly surprised.

You pouted, lips pursed as you pulled the general in by his shoulders, "Kuri..."

Your lips crashed against his with need, pouring every ounce of feeling you harbored for him all this time.

His arms wrapped around you, and before you knew it, you were in your shared bedroom, falling onto the ginormous mattress with a soft creak, his body completely enveloping you.

Katakuri's tongue played with yours as your hands moved across each other's skin, exploring places they already knew and places they'd never touched in a more passionate way.

The man completely slid the straps of your nightgown off your shoulders, sitting up just enough to help you pull it over your head.

With hooded eyes, he watched as your breasts bounced out, wasting no time in taking one into his mouth.

You let out a breathy moan, back arching to accommodate him, hands running through his hair.

Though, suddenly, he stopped, pushing himself up on his hands as looking down at you.

Panting, you tilted your head while looking up at him.

"What's wrong?"

He shook his head, as if he was in deep thought.

"I usually wake up by now..."

Heart melting, you broke into a smile, sitting up to meet him and pull him back into a kiss.

Breathing against his lips, you cupped his face gently.

"M'not goin' anywhere, Kuri. I'm right here."

The general let out a quiet exhale, kissing you softly before moving down to your neck.

Shivers ran through your whole body, thighs clenching tight and craving more friction.

Slowly, he shifted your legs apart to kneel down between them, pulling off his gloves with his teeth before flippantly tossing them aside.

You felt a flush roll over your entire body, entranced with the look he gave you as he intensely eyed your form.

He kissed the palm of your hand, then your wrist, working his way down your arm and then back to your lips.

You wrapped your arms around him as he slid his hand down your stomach and into your panties.

Your breath caught in your throat, clinging to him helplessly as his fingers rubbed between your wet folds. Then, after a little searching, circled gently around your clit with the rough pads of his calloused fingers.

Katakuri continued to kiss you, drowning out your moans and gasps, devouring your lips as if he was finally able to sate a ravenous hunger.

He couldn't get enough, the way your tongue felt against his, the sound of your hitched breathing, and the way your whole body quivered as he teased between your legs.

His fingers slipped down inside of you again, feeling your cunt clench around the two he prodded you with.

"Breathe," he purred against your mouth, his voice a tone you had never heard him speak in before.

It made you tremble, raking your nails over his back.

Katakuri let out a small hiss, loving the feeling they left over his skin.

He continued to tease and please the surface of your skin, kissing you everywhere he was able to reach.

Until you couldn't take it anymore.

Cupping his face and bringing him back to your lips, you kissed him with all the intensity you could gather.

When you pulled away, you gave his lower lip a small nip, then laid back against the plush comforter.

"Kuri, please..." his eyes went slightly wide, and you noticed his breath hitch, "...fuck me."

There was a fire behind his eyes as he removed his fingers from you.

He gripped your panties to pull them off, but when they didn't move immediately, Katakuri let out a frustrated growl, and pulled until they ripped in two like tissue in his hands.

You stared at the frayed fabric a second, too dumbfounded to even react.

The way his muscles flexed during the act of ripping your clothes made you feel as if you were gushing like a geyser.

...But that was still a very expensive set of panties.

"I'll buy you more," he stated, already predicting what you were going to say.

He cast the shreds of your clothes aside and began to slide out of the rest of his own, shrugging off his leather vest and kicking off his boots before pulling down his pants and removing his boxers.

Finally, the two of you were naked in front of each other for the first time.

You both just stared at each other, him on his knees, and you now propping yourself up on your elbows.

Katakuri eyed you up and down, the flush across his face and ears seeping down to his upper chest and shoulders.

It seemed as if he'd stopped functioning, taken by your actual living, breathing form beneath him.

He bent down at the waist, touching your hip as he swallowed hard, suddenly incredibly nervous.

You also felt heat rising through your body, now feeling shy as you were truly exposed in front of the man you had fallen for.

His intense stare was driving you wild, but you could also see the gears in his head grinding to a halt.

He was trying to hide his nervousness.

In an attempt to soothe him, you sat up, running your hands over his shoulders with a comforting smile.

"You all right, Kuri?" you cooed softly, the man feeling your touch and instantly calming down.

The red in his cheeks sunk deeper at his nickname, and he swallowed hard, "You're... so beautiful, (y/n)...

He touched your face, his eyes heavy and dark with desire, only reflecting you at this distance

"I don't want to hurt you..."

Reassuringly, your nose rubbed against his, spreading your legs a little more for him as he shifted his hips naturally into place above your own.

Both of your breathing picked back up, lips brushing tentatively, the dam of passion quickly filling back up and beginning to spill over.

"You won't," your body shivered as he slipped a hand between you both, lining up the head of his cock with your wet slit.

Katakuri grit his teeth as he slowly pushed himself in. Your head threw back with a throaty mewl as your fingers dug into his shoulders, sliding them down over his inked chest.

He was far bigger than the one or two others you had in the past, but it didn't take much or long before he had you filled to the brim with all he had to give.

After a few deep breaths from you both, you adjusted to his size, but still let out a shocked moan as he rolled his hips gently into yours.

The movement caused your walls to flutter around him, a small shock of pleasure pulsing through your body.

It was the smallest of movements from him, but you already craved more.

You pulled him in for another heated kiss, moaning into his mouth as he began a slow place with his thrusts.

Breaking the kiss, Katakuri buried his face in your neck, groaning loudly.

"F-fuck, you feel... so good—" his moan was caught in his throat when you shifted your hips to give him a better angle.

His thrusts became deeper with the new access, your eyes rolling in the back of your head.

The general kissed and sucked along your neck and collarbone, adding to the sensations you were already feeling, knowing you would be covered in marks by morning.

You lifted his face to look at you as you gasped out for him.

"Kuri... please..."

Placing a peck on your lips, he nodded as he took a moment to shift the two of you slightly, sitting up on his knees and lifting your hips with him, your upper back rubbing harshly against the cover of the comforter.

He wrapped your legs around him, running his rough palms up and down your thighs a few times until his hands gripped your hips.

Without warning, his cock drilled more harshly inside you, hearing a loud smack as his hips made contact with yours.

Fingers digging into his hands, your eyes rolled back again as he began a whole new assault on your soaking cunt.

Again and again and again, he pounded against you with such force you had to brace yourself against the mattress.

Katakuri fucked you hard and raw, picking up speed the louder your moans got, quite thankful that you'd let all the staff go for the night—he didn't sense a single soul in the house save for you two.

Your legs struggled to keep tight around him, nearly flailing as your toes curled and feet kicked.

Right there.

You felt your orgasm building closer and closer to a sweet peak that you had been chasing, craving, cying out for.

Your eyes met his as he licked his lips, knuckles white against your hips as he sprinted you both to the finish line.

He was a man possessed, desiring only you and the pleasures your bodies brought.

Neither of you could form the words, but the look on his face told you everything he wanted as if you could hear him speaking the words.

Cum for me...

Arching your back, you cried out loudly as you creamed around him, muscles and walls clenching harshly on his pulsing cock as you felt his hips begin to stutter, emptying deep inside you with a growl that matched your vibrato.

The world had gone white, feeling only the pressure of his cock twitching inside you and his fingers releasing your hips from his hold as bruises formed in their place.

Katakuri lowered them gently, still not removing himself as he looked you over, touching your face tenderly as he admired the marks he gifted you.

You felt as if you were glowing, and from his perspective you were, your hair sprawled out and wild among the pillows, creating a natural halo around your head.

It was as if he had an angel beneath him...

His thumb brushed your lips, mesmerized that he gave you your current fucked-out and dreamy smile.

"I love you... so much..."

He held you tightly in his arms, the two of you enjoying the pleasure of each other's company well into the night.

And nine months later... your firstborn son, Soda, was born.

"Kuri... the morning rush," you attempted between breaths, your hands sliding down to rest against his toned chest in a limp attempt to push him off. "They need me..."

"They can wait," he growled, throatily, brows furrowing at the idea of interruption.

At his tone, you whined, becoming light-headed as pulled you even closer—if that was even possible—your bodies pressed flush against each other as his hands snuck downwards to massage your hips.

This was the Katakuri you—and only you—had the privilege of seeing.

Tender... warm... needy...

In your presence, the Sweet Commander, pride of the Big Mom Pirates, was gone.

In your presence... he was just Kuri.

The Kuri that looked at you as if the sun rose and set with your smile.

The Kuri that felt as if he couldn't breathe without you near.

The Kuri that would stab himself in the chest if you asked him to—and honestly thank you afterward.

You were his greatest weakness.

You were his greatest strength.

You were his everything.

And, goddammit, you were his wife, so if he felt like kissing you until his lungs collapsed, then he had every right to do so.

"Honey—"

"Do you know what you do to me?" your husband purred, eyes meeting yours in a love-filled haze before trailing down to gaze at the gold band sitting prettily on your manicured ring finger.

He practically groaned at the sight, baffled by his luck.

His wife was the most perfect woman in the whole world... what were the odds?

Forcing himself out of his heated daze, Katakuri tangled his hand in your hair and tugged your head back just enough to open your neck to him.

There, he attached his lips, trailing kisses up and down the column of your throat before assaulting the sweet spot under your jaw, nibbling so softly it dragged a pathetic mewl from your lips.

"My sweet wife... so beautiful... so perfect..."

Smoothly, his hand slithered underneath your shirt to trace mindless patterns over your flesh, his other gently gripping your jaw to resume peppering your lips with kisses.

The more he touched you, the more the time slipped away, your mind too caught up in him, too dizzy to grasp anything else.

It had been a while since you'd seen him so riled up.

And you had to say... you were eating up every second.

Pulling back just enough to feel your heated breaths and bounding heartbeat under his fingertips, your blurred, (e/c) eyes met his crimson ones, their soft and vulnerable glow giving your heart a sharp squeeze.

"Kuri... honey..." you muttered, voice sultry and groggy, "I love you... but I have to go—"

He silenced you with another kiss, you all but melting into it, letting out a sigh that spoke volumes to your poor resolve.

When he parted to bury his face in the crook of your neck, your fingers threaded through the hairs at the nape of his neck, an amused laugh slipping past your lips.

"What in the world has gotten into you?"

"What do you think?"

Suddenly, without warning, he tightened his hold around your waist, forcing you to let out a surprised squeal as he lunged forward and caged you to the bed, crawling on top of your smaller form.

"Katakuri!"

Not wasting a second, he began to trail open-mouth kisses down from the tip of your jaw to the valley of your breasts.

"Your taste... your touch... your scent..." he listed with each kiss, moving like a man crazed. "How do expect me to resist you?"

Before you knew it, he was right before your most intimate place, already tossing your legs over his shoulders and dragging you closer.

Lifting his eyes to you, his gaze zeroed in on yours, looking as if he wanted to devour your body whole.

"How do you expect me to contain myself?"

At such praise, your face burned, stomach aflutter with butterflies and the like.

No man had ever made you feel more desired than your darling husband, and now you were certain no man ever would.

His admiration had you floating higher than the clouds, and suddenly complaisant in whatever he wanted to do to you.

Hooking his finger on your pretty—damp—lace panties, his eyes softened, utterly transfixed as he began to pull them to the side.

"I—"

"MAMA! DADDY!" Cocoa whined, her fists frantically banging on your door. "Soda's chasing me!"

"'Cause you stole my music transponder snail, you little thief! Give it back!" the teen fired back, his footsteps quickly thudding after her.

"EEK!"

"We wanna play, too! Wait for us!" Frappe giggled, running to join them.

"Don't forget Chai!" Latte laughed, lugging the toddler along by his hand.

"Play! Play!" he jumped excited.

At the noise, Mocha was roused from her slumber, her cries rising over the children's squeals of merriment and terror.

The romantic tension fizzled out like a wet candle.

Glancing down at your husband, you flashed him an apologetic smile, his disappointment evident on his face as he dropped his head on your stomach, defeated.

"Next time, my love," you chuckled, sorrily, running your hand through his hair. "Next time."

"Good work, kiddos!" you approved, smiling warmly as you crossed another name off your register book. "We've already finished most of the orders for the day."

"Really?" Frappe and Latte gasped, going on their tippy-toes in an attempt to reach the counter.

"All thanks to my heavy lifting," Soda bragged, proudly, as he re-entered the bakery, carrying two large crates of flour on his shoulders as he headed toward the back.

"Tch. As if," Cocoa scoffed, rolling her eyes as she exited from the back. "You couldn't bake if your life depended on it. I'm the one that made the chocolate-chip cookies for the day. Juliette said they were the best she'd ever tasted."

"Obviously, she was lying, Cuckoo," he stuck his tongue out at her.

"She was not! And quit calling me that!"

"Was too!"

"I don't know, So," you grinned as you turned to Chai, who was sitting on top of the counter, munching on one of Cocoa's cookies. "Chai seems to like them quite a bit."

"They're so good!" Frappe yanked two out of the display case, handing one to her sister.

"Best cookies ever!" Latte agreed.

"Hey, don't steal them out of the display! Those are for the customers!" Soda scolded, dropping the cases.

"They're certainly better than my cookies," you nodded, taking a bite out of one yourself before turning to pat your eldest daughter on the head. "Fantastic job, sweetie."

Cocoa smiled shyly at your praise, resting her hands on her hips with pride.

"Mom, not you, too!" Soda groaned.

"Cookie!" Chai babbled, leaning over to try and feed some to Mocha, who was strapped to your chest.

"No, no, honey," you quickly yanked it up, wagging your finger. "Mocha can't eat those yet. She's too little."

The baby happily cooed at the sight, making grabby hands at her brother and the sweet treat.

"If you guys keep eating, we won't have anything left to serve!"

Just then, the doorbell jingled, the door opening to reveal a man you had never seen before.

He was dressed in all black from head to toe, sunglasses shading his eyes and a black newsboy hat covering his hair.

He looked rather suspect... but then again, you came across loads of seedy characters on this island.

"Welcome to the best bakery in Whole Cake!" you greeted with a smile, resting your hands on the counter. "What can I get for you, sir?"

"Coffee?" Frappe asked.

"Tea?" Latte added.

"Brownies?" Cocoa raised a brow.

"Cookie!" Chai squealed.

Off to the side, Soda's brows furrowed, the boy put off by the man's suspicious aura.

He didn't look like a normal customer.

He was examining.

Sure, his eyes couldn't be seen through the sunglasses, but Soda could tell that the man was memorizing each and every one of their faces.

'The hell...?'

"Black tea is fine," he muttered, finally reaching the counter.

"Of course," you nodded, turning to Frappe and Latte, "You girls got this?"

"Yuh-huh!"

"You got it!"

Quickly, they scurried off to brew the man's drink, giggling all the way.

"That'll be 550 berries, mister," Cocoa rang him up.

"Here."

He placed 20000 berries on the counter, before quickly turning around to walk out.

"Um... I think this is too much," Cocoa scrunched her nose, confused.

"Sir! You overpaid by a whole lot!" you called, concerned, as you held up the money.

"Keep the change," he shoved a hand in his pocket, using the other to push open the door.

"But what about your tea?" Cocoa asked.

But he had already left, turning to walk down the street like nothing happened.

Brows furrowed, Soda leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest with a scowl.

'Weird...'

That night, you laid comfortably in yours and your husband's shared bed, sleeping soundly in his embrace as he remained the big spoon—like he always did.

His strong arms held you firmly in his grasp, keeping your back flush against his bare chest as he buried his face in your neck.

All was calm within the house... until it wasn't.

In an instant, Katakuri was violently jolted awake by his haki, eyes wide.

'No!'

Abruptly, he sat up in bed, effectively startling you out of slumber.

"Honey...? What's—?"

Your sentence was cut off by a blood-curdling shriek, one riddled with fear.

Petrified, your eyes shot wide, able to distinguish that sound from anywhere.

"Cocoa!" you shouted, a heavy pit of terror sinking into your stomach.

The scream was followed by the sound shattering of glass and tussling punches, thuds and splintering wood following that.

"Stay here!" Katakuri barked, instantly jumping out the bed and rushing toward the door, blowing it off the hinges with a punch before sprinting out the room.

Pumping his arms, he made a mad dash for the Cocoa and the twin's room, having never moved so fast in all his life.

Within his mind's eye, all he could see was the worst case scenario.

His sons... dead.

His girls... taken.

His wife... he'd rather not say.

How the intruders got past the gates, he had no idea.

But he knew for certain that the moment he got his hands on them, they would be wishing they'd never even stepped foot on the island.

Reaching girls' room, the broke down the door with his shoulder—as if it were nothing but a toothpick—eyes blazing with fury at the sight he was met with.

The twins sobbing as they cowered in the corner together, terrified by the gang of pirates sneering at them.

Cocoa standing in front of them protectively, eye dark and swollen with a bruise—as if she had been punched in the face.

Soda hoisted in the hair by his neck, brows furrowed as he glared down at the man holding him, a steady stream of blood trickling down his temple.

"Big brother!" Frappe and Latte cried, clutching each other tighter.

"Soda!" Cocoa sniffled, attempting to keep on a brave face.

"Bastards..." Soda spat between gritted teeth, still attempting to remain strong despite the throbbing in his head—he had been smashed through the dresser, hence the splintering wood. "Keep your filthy hands off my sister."

At his feet, over half of the crew was unconscious, some beaten, and some with their eyes rolled over white.

'Conqueror's...'

"Ugly little brat bit me!" the man holding him spat, glancing down at his free arm which was gushing blood. "Those monstrous fuckin' teeth!"

That comment sent Katakuri over the edge.

Not wasting another second, he shot a mochi appendage directly at the pirate's arm, hardening it with haki and forcing him to drop his son.

"Dad!" Soda winced, thankful.

"Daddy!" Cocoa and the twins cried, relieved.

"Oh, shit! It's Charlotte Katakuri!" one of the pirates shouted, trembling with fear.

"You didn't check who the bitch was married to?!"

"I didn't think it'd be him!"

"Children," Katakuri's voice carried over it all, dangerously low and calm. "Shut your eyes... Now."

Quickly, the girls slapped their hands over their eyes, Soda screwing his shut.

And the moment he was sure their innocence was protected, he went absolutely fucking berserk, creating a small mochi room within the bedroom in order to contain the blood splatter.

And, to save you the gory details—which, believe me, they are gory—I'll describe the scene as this.

Each and every one of those pirates were completely unrecognizable and in several different pieces by the end of their beat-down, the Sweet Commander doing so with his bare hands—sans haki.

When he emerged and dissipated the room—bloodless, as the mochi had sopped it all up—he was met by four pairs of glassy eyes, though Soda would never admit it.

"Kids!" you panicked, rushing into the room, utterly relieved to see they were all right.

Reaching them, you fell to your knees, sobbing uncontrollably as you pulled the four into your embrace.

"Mama!" the girls cried, burying their faces in your chest, sobbing themselves.

"Oh, my babies!" you clutched them tight, peppering their faces with kisses. "I'm so glad you're safe!"

As you trailed over each one, you came across Cocoa's shiner, nearly breaking down at the sight.

"Co!" you cupped her face, your tears becoming more intense.

"Don't worry, Mama..." she attempted to smile through the pain, resting her hands on your wrists. "It's not too bad."

Her words sent a sharp spear of pain through Katakuri's heart, reminding him of the same words said to him when Brûlée had been hurt.

He had failed yet again, only this time his daughter was the one to pay the price.

"M'sorry, Mom," Soda winced, propping himself up against your body, leaning his bloody head against your shoulder. "I... tried to stop them."

"Don't you dare apologize," you cupped his face as well, swiping the blood away from his forehead and snuggling him close. "You did amazing, my son. I'm so proud."

Just then, another surge of observation haki snatched Katakuri out of his thoughts.

'The nursery!'

He turned around at breakneck speed, bolting out the room just as the two youngest began to wail.

"Mocha!" Soda called, eyes wide as he painfully sat up.

"Chai!" Cocoa gasped, worried.

"Oh, God," you began to panic, lip quivering as you circled your arms around all four of them, protectively.

Quickly moving next door, Katakuri burst through the doorway, only to see that there was a straggler from the pirate crew attempting to sneak out the window with Chai and Mocha in his arm.

"Dada!" Chai cried, banging his tiny fists against the man's shoulder.

Brows furrowed, Katakuri sent out two mochi arms, snatching his children out the pirate's grasp before pulling them back, using a mochi appendage sprouting out of his leg to grab the man by his neck and yank him closer.

"The name of your crew," Katakuri spat, cutting directly to the chase as he plopped Chai on top of his shoulder, before grabbing the man's face and pressing his thumb harshly against his socket. "Or your eyeballs are going first."

"T-The Greybeard Pirates! We're the Greybeard Pirates!" the man blubbered, utterly terrified by the look on your husband's face. "Please don't kill me, man! I was just following orders!"

But the general couldn't have cared less, two mini mochi arms rising out of his shoulder to cover Chai and Mocha's eyes before he shoved his thumb through the pirate's eye and effectively into his brain, killing him.

Flippant, he dropped him with a sick thud, bending over to wipe his bloody finger off on the man's coat before he removed his children's blindfolds, turning to return to you.

"Dada!" Chai grinned, the boy's tiny hand patting his father's cheek.

At the sight, Katakuri smiled, leaning into his son's touch.

"Yes..." he nodded, warmly. "Dada."

Even Mocha was smiling a gummy smile, her large eyes staring up at her father with wonder.

And the man couldn't help but allow his heart to swell.

These children were his lifeblood, parts 1-7 of his reasons for living—including you—and he knew it'd be a cold day in hell before he ever let anyone take that away from him.

He tore men apart with his bare hands today, no mochi or haki involved, and he didn't even flinch.

But he'd do it all a thousand times over again if he had to.

This instance wasn't a wake up call, but rather a reminder of just what he was capable of doing when your lives were hanging in the balance.

Which was just about any and everything.

Finally returning to the girls' room, he was met by your watery expression, your body nearly collapsing into Soda's with relief.

"My babies..." you hiccuped, holding your arms out as he padded forward, placing them in your grasp. "Oh, my babies..."

"Mama!" Chai smiled, rubbing his nose into your cheek.

Mocha babbled incoherently, though you were sure it was positive by the way she was giggling.

Warily, Katakuri approached, not wanting to make the situation worse with his imposing presence.

He figured he looked pretty scary himself—chest heaving from residual rage, blood stains on the carpet in his wake.

But, to his surprise, it was actually quite the opposite.

The moment he knelt down to your level, you and all the kids threw your arms around him, tackling the man to the ground in a silent bear hug.

His breath hitched, not at all expecting the reaction, but he hugged back anyway, pulling all of you closer.

The kids buried their faces into Katakuri's side, wrapping their arms around the man's torso to the best of their little ability.

You rested your head on his shoulder, cheeks red and blotchy as you melted against him, your hand resting softly against his chest while the other cradled Mocha.

Like a spotty drizzle, he felt a few stray tears land on his collarbone, forcing him to turn to their source, only to see you look up at him with your beautiful eyes, all glassy with relief.

'Fuck...'

If there was one thing he couldn't take, it was your tears.

Though, despite what he originally thought, you managed to crack a small smile, only able to muster three steady words:

"I love you."

BONUS !!

After you all remained in each other's embrace for a long while, you took the children to sleep with you in yours and Katakuri's bed, while the man himself left downstairs to make a call.

"Oven," he spoke, voice calm but deadly sharp as he placed the transponder snail down on a coffee table, freeing his hands to tug on his leather vest. "I need you to send Cracker to my house on Komugi Island immediately. Then round up Smoothie, Peros, Daifuku, Snack, Amande, and Brûlée to meet in the Mirro-World."

Groggily, the man on the other side groaned, sitting up in bed and turning toward his clock which said 4:00 am.

"Okay... any particular reason why?" Oven asked, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to wake up.

"A group of thugs just broke into my house and attempted to kidnap my children."

Audibly, your brother-in-law did a spit take, utterly baffled.

"Are you serious?! Are they—?!"

"They're fine. I handled the group myself," Katakuri answered, wrapping his scarf around his mouth. "But apparently there's more of them. They sail under the name of the Greybeard Pirates."

Oven's brows furrowed, the man abruptly standing from his bed with a pissed-off look.

"I see... I take it you have a plan then?"

Deadly sure, Katakuri nodded, storing Mogura—his trident—within his mochi before picking up the transponder snail once more, the look in his eyes more murderous than it had ever been.

"Yes... we are going to enter their ship and completely wipe them from existence."

"God-damn!" Cracker gaped, eyes bulging out his sockets and tongue nearly lulling out his mouth as you entered his view, gracefully. "Just when you think she can't get any hotter!"

Sharply, your husband's eyes flicked to him, brows cinched in a disapproving furrow as he knew exactly who his brother was looking at without even having to check.

"Watch it," he warned, firmly, arms crossed tightly over his chest.

"Oh, I'm watchin', all right."

The purple-haired man cheesed, utterly pleased as his eyes followed you toward sweets table.

Or, more accurately, your body.

Like a dog with a bone, he stared, mesmerized, as you made your way over, hips looking ripe and tender for the grabbing.

After a recent vacation to Snack Island, you'd developed a delectably smooth tan, the expensive lotions he was sure you used giving your skin an alluring shine.

Eye roaming over your body, he took in the deep, wine red of your dress, which hugged your form beautifully and exposed your smooth leg in a rather high slit, not to mention the gold bangles and jewelry that adorned your ears, neck, and wrists.

You looked good enough to eat—even more than endless variety of treats surrounding him.

"Mama! Cupcake!" Cocoa pointed, dazzled by the staggeringly tall tower of confections as she tugged at your hand.

You nodded, happily, adjusting one of her flyaways as a small smile broke out onto your face.

"Yes, honey, those are cupcakes," you confirmed with a giggle. "Do you want one?"

Frantically, she nodded, excitement etched clearly across her tiny face.

"Look! They even got chocolate!" Soda grinned, letting go of your other hand and using his taller reach to grab two, handing one off to his younger sister. "Here, Co! Try it."

Confused, the little girl examined the dessert with a raised brow.

"Chocwate?" she asked, poking the frosting.

"It's good," Soda assured, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Trust me."

With your assistance, she removed the wrapper, before slowly raising the treat to her lips.

But, just as she was about to take a bite, her tiny grip accidentally loosened, the cupcake falling and landing frosting first on the brightly colored ground.

Saddened, she stared at it, lip jutting out in a pout and eyes already becoming glassy.

"My chocwate..." she teared up, disappointment weighing heavy in her tone as her lip began to wobble.

"Oh, honey, don't worry. We can—"

"It's okay. You can have mine," Soda assured.

Quickly, he peeled the wrapper off his cupcake, carefully handing it over and watching as his sister took a bite.

And instantly, she lit up with wonder, unseen galaxies now visible in front of her eyes as the rich, unique flavor danced on her tongue.

It was nothing like she'd ever tasted before.

"Yummy!" she gasped, wasting no time in finishing off the rest of the confection.

"You think that's good?" Soda smirked, taking her hand before starting off toward the other buffet. "Wait until you try a chocolate chip cookie!"

"Cookie?" she raised a brow, her small legs doing their best to keep up with him.

"You're gonna love it! It's got a ton of chocolate!"

"Chocwate!"

She needed no more convincing, and was now completely on board with the plan.

"Don't get any chocolate on her dress, Soda!" you called after them. "And don't get any on your suit, either!"

"Yes, Mama!" he replied, the two not even bothering to turn back as they set their sights on another large table of snacks, Cocoa giggling all the way.

You couldn't help but smile at the display, forcing Cracker to instantly clutch his chest with an iron grip, as if he had been shot.

You were a vision, the paragon of beauty and grace—and hotness.

What he wouldn't give to have just one—

"You keep looking at my wife like that, Cracker, and we are going to have a problem."

Katakuri seethed, tone deadly calm as his eyes sharpened like daggers, staring his younger brother down with a furious glare.

His jaw ticked as he watched the man gaze upon you, his expression displaying his thoughts clearly as he practically undressed and fucked you with his eyes.

In an instant, his chest began to smolder with a rage reserved only for when matters concerned you, the feeling akin to a third-degree burn as it began to rise up his throat and sting his tongue.

It was obvious to anyone with working eyes that you were a gorgeous woman, and if one was truly being honest, it would not be far fetched to say that at any given time there were probably ten other men eyeing you up in the same exact way .

Obviously, that fact didn't make Katakuri jump for joy—no man enjoys watching his wife be gawked at and lusted after.

But the sting felt different when it was one of his kin doing the hounding.

His fellow crewmate... his brother... his blood.

He knew Cracker was a bit of a sleaze in terms of women, but over the years he'd hoped the man would mellow out and dial back his outspoken attraction toward you.

For respect's sake, at least.

But, alas, seeing his brother objectify you so openly and comfortably gave Katakuri the honest motivation to think of the unthinkable...

'One brother gone wouldn't be so bad...'

"Careful, Cracker," Oven chuckled, amused by the sight before him as he and Daifuku made their way over. "Don't need haki to see that you've got a jellybean in your future."

"Or a trident," Daifuku sniggered right along. "Whichever comes first."

"I'm just sayin' what were all thinkin'," Cracker smirked, tossing an arm around the Minister of Flour—which was promptly shrugged off, "Katakuri, brother, you have got to be the luckiest bastard in the world. Your wife is the prettiest chick at this event."

His brows furrowed, the pink-haired man staving off an eye roll.

He knew that.

Obviously he knew that

That was like telling him the sky was blue or the sun was yellow.

It was a fact that was irrefutable, and one he didn't need reminding of—especially from Cracker.

The man who was dangerously nearing the edge of Katakuri's patience.

Luckily, his haki predicted an angel of diplomacy swooping in to save his brother's hide.

"Hello, boys," you greeted, kindly, your voice as smooth as sun-warmed honey as it seeped into your husband's ears.

"Hello, (y/n)," the brothers greeted in unison—save for Katakuri—each one sharing their own knowing looks.

"You look lovely this evening, my dear," Daifuku complimented before Cracker could say something crude.

"Thank you. You all look very dashing as well," you smiled, gaze flicking over to your husband, who was oddly quiet. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"Actually—"

"Not at all," Oven interjected, slapping his hand over Cracker's mouth. "You need something? Is everything all right?"

"Oh, everything's fine," you assured, waving him off. "I was just hoping I could steal my husband away for a moment, if that's okay."

Katakuri could not have moved faster if he tried.

"Let's go," he quickly stated, his hand settling in its place at the small of your back as he ushered you away, not so much as offering a glance toward the brothers he was leaving behind.

"Damn..." Cracker sighed, still muffled by Oven's hand as his eyes trailed down to your ass. "Hate to see her leave, but I love to watch her—"

Instantly, his two older brothers hit him upside the head, the combined force knocking the Minister of Biscuits out.

"Really... I can't tell if he's drunk or just stupid," Daifuku sighed, disappointed.

"Katakuri's patience can only run so thin," Oven stated as he tossed his little brother over his shoulder. "Best to keep the two apart before he murders him in front of the guests."

Raising a brow, he glanced at Cracker, whose face was still contorted in a rather pervy expression despite being unconscious.

Annoyed, he groaned, rolling his eyes as he turned to walk away.

"On the contrary... a good ass-kicking might teach him a thing or two... little creep."

As you led your husband to a hidden, more secluded part of the rooftop on the Whole Cake Chateau, he couldn't help but be hit with a sudden bout of confusion.

You were acting very odd.

Cryptic... secretive... unable to keep yourself from smirking.

It was unlike you, and beginning to make him worry.

But before he could even open his mouth, you pulled down his scarf to kiss him, roughly, pressing him firmly against the wall.

"(y... /n)!" Katakuri gasped into it, eyes wide as his back hit the hard surface, your kisses trailing down to his jaw and neck.

Slowly, you dragged your teeth over the skin of his collarbone, sending a shiver up his spine as you looked up at him with hooded eyes.

He swallowed hard, a sudden buzz jolting through his chest, twisting his stomach with knots of arousal.

"(y/n)... the ceremony is going to start..." he stumbled as he tugged his scarf back up, instinctively resting his hands on your hips, face growing hot as your lips trailed down his bare chest.

"How long?" you sultrily asked, nipping at the flesh of his pectoral before slowly lowering to his stomach.

He cursed under his breath at the sensation, quickly shifting his gaze to the sky as he took a deep inhale.

If he looked at you, he was going to get impossibly hard.

"...Tw-enty minutes!" he gritted out, taken aback as you began to palm him through his leather pants, his dick painfully sensitive.

A devilish smirk curled on your lips as your other hand hooked into his belt, gently undoing it before slowly pulling his pants down to his ankles.

He watched you loop your hands through his boxers, body on fire.

He'd never get over the sight of you, never lose the rush that coursed through his veins every time he looked at you.

"You're so beautiful..." he muttered to himself, unaware that he said his thought aloud.

But the sweet compliment went unnoticed.

You were to busy gaping at his cock as you released it from its prison.

No matter how many times you saw it, the sight would always leave you salivating.

He was big, thick, and extremely hard, his bulbous, pink head dripping in pre that dribbled enticingly down his thick shaft, where a couple veins throbbed under the tender skin of his cock.

He kept himself trimmed, each pink-purple hair cut short but curly like the faint hairs on his happy trail.

From his cock hung two heavy balls, soft, sinewy with pink hair, and holding all the cum he held for you and you alone.

He relished in your gaze, feeling like the sexiest man in the world.

"We got time," you cooed. "Right now... I wanna show you who I belong to."

You started by spitting all over his cock, causing him to groan at the sight of your saliva dripping over his shaft and balls.

Then you began to stroke him, having to use both hands because he was just too damn big for one.

Katakuri's toes curled while his head tipped back, eyes screwing shut.

"Shit!" he hissed under his breath, doing a poor job at withholding his sounds of pleasure.

Your soft, smaller hands felt so good stroking his big dick.

Every move you made caused his body to tingle, his cells coming alive from the pleasure you were giving him.

The lewd, wet sounds of your hands stroking his wet cock didn't do him any good either.

Especially when you finally wrapped your lips around him.

Katakuri's eyes nearly bulged out of his skull the minute he felt your soft lips and wet tongue wrap around him, turning all kinds of tricks and skills on his dick.

Flicking, licking, sucking.

"F-Fuck," he groaned, pawing at the wall beneath his gloved fingertips.

He's never been treated so well.

'Looks so good on her knees like this...'

He blushed red at the lewd thought.

He shouldn't be thinking of you in such a horrible way!

But the way you were sucking on his dick and taking him in your throat was making him think different.

You gripped the base of his cock with one hand as you opened your throat for him, taking him as deep as you could go.

The gagging sounds that slipped from your pretty throat nearly made him cum, especially combined with the way it tightened around him.

So wet... so tight...

"F-Fuck... (y/n)!" he groaned, his strong fingers creating indents against the thick wall. "Gonna... cum soon!"

You hummed appreciatively, nodding your head.

The way it bobbed caused his cock to brush against the roof of your mouth, sending tingles throughout his dick.

"Cum for me, Kuri," you urged, speeding up your stroking until his toes were curling and his thighs were shaking. "Cum all over my face."

You went back to eagerly sucking him off, slurping him down like it would be your last meal.

His balls began to tighten, already feeling himself reach his peak.

You looked up at Katakuri, finding his eyes locked with yours, pink hairs and sweat sticking to his forehead.

And your lustful expression was the last thing he needed to push him off the edge.

He came, spilling his seed in your mouth without warning, a moan of your name and a whine of ecstasy leaving his lips as he did.

You felt his cum stream inside your mouth, warm and overflowing.

So much so that some began to spill, your eyes widening as it dribbled out the corners of your lips and down your face, dripping off your chin and onto the floor.

The sight so lewd, yet so arousing.

"(y/n)... that was... you were..." he panted, shoulders relaxing into the wall as he let out a heavy sigh. "Are you all right?"

You gave him a warm smile, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand before standing back on your feet and returning his package to his pants, zipping him up and redoing his belt before placing a kiss on his lips.

"I am fine, my love," you stared into his eyes, lovingly, placing a few more pecks across his face, his skin burning with each touch.

"You didn't have to do this," he stated, solemnly, arms wrapping around your body and pulling you close. "You shouldn't be on your knees for me."

Your gaze softened, hand rising to gently cup his cheek, thumb smoothing over his cheekbone as your forehead pressed against his, "Kuri, nearly ten years and you still have yet to realize just how much I adore you."

Slowly, your hands slid down to rest on his chest, the man nearly letting out a groan at the drag of your nails, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"I saw how Cracker was being... and how angry you were... and I wanted remind you that everything about me—my body... my mind... my soul—belongs to you, Kuri. There's no man or brother in this world that could ever turn me away from you. You are the father of my children, my beautiful husband, and I love you with all my heart."

Katakuri blinked at you, shocked.

He would never, ever admit it to anybody—including you—but for a moment he felt just about ready to shed a tear.

No one had ever said something so loving to him before, or with such passion.

It only tripled the size of his heart, creating more space for you to monopolize and rule over, effectively, until it finally bursts one day.

Without warning, the man suddenly scooped you up, relishing your gasp of surprise as you threw your arms around his neck, eyes slightly wide.

"Kuri, what are you—?"

"Where are the children?" he asked, quickly, intense eyes glancing down at you.

"Playing with Smoothie, Citron, and Cinnamon," you answered, breathless and slightly confused.

He nodded, quickly turning around to sneak toward the back entrance of the Chateau.

"Good," he nodded, voice low and sultry with a tone that only came out when he was truly in the mood. "We'll return for them after the ceremony."

Suspicious, you raised a brow.

"Why...? ...Where are we going?"

Knowingly, his gaze flicked to you, his eyes glazed over with a look that could only be attributed to complete and utter carnal desire.

He didn't even have to say anything.

The half of his expression that you could see was already half-lidded and dark, practically burning your face from his inside out as you realized what trouble you'd just gotten yourself into.

"Oh."

Of course, it was a surprise to no one that the twins were born nine months after the fact.

Sure, it was common knowledge to nearly everyone in Totto Land that the Sweet General was an honest-to-goodness knockout.

The women of the sugary archipelago often came to the agreement that he was among the handsomest of the Charlottes, and even those who had seen his mouth could admit that he was still quite the looker—you'd spoken ad nauseam about how much you believed it amplified his attractiveness, despite his fervent denial.

But for you to see him here?

In your house... in your room... as your husband... looking as delectable as he did right how?

Dampened, mussed hair, which caused a few water droplets to drip and slide down the broad, muscular ridges of his back.

Abdominals carved out of solid marble, accentuated by his dewy, freshly-showered skin and swirled tattoo.

Slightly miffed expression, which forced his lips to curl in a half snarl as he rummaged through his perfectly neat closet.

Perfectly tapered v-line, which was followed by a certain trail of soft, dark, pink hair, the surprise a few inches below just barely hidden away by a tantalizingly thin towel.

And he expected you to go about business as usual.

Please.

You'd seen him naked more times than you could count, but somehow, he had a way of making every time feel like the first time.

"My boots," he repeated, completely oblivious to your ogling as he continued his search. "You think Soda took them again?"

His words went in one ear and out the other, your body already forcing you off the bed as you carefully removed your glasses, resting them on your nightstand.

It was as if you were entranced, unable to look away as his muscles flexed with each minute movement.

"Kuri~" you purred, sing-songily, as you slowly began to stalk toward him.

At your tone, he froze, eyes going wide as he kept his back to you, making sure his face was still hidden in the closet.

'Shit.'

Instantly, he began running through any and every possible scenario, frantically searching for something he must've forgotten to warrant such a tone—in his hunt for his shoes, he had failed to notice that you had come off as teasing rather than scolding.

Birthday?

'(XX/XX). Not today.'

Anniversary?

'Just passed.'

Doughnut stash?

'Closet compartment's still intact.'

Internally, he cursed, sadly unable to pinpoint what he'd done wrong.

'Dammit.'

"My love... have I ever told you how handsome you look?" you smiled, sweetly, as you wrapped your arms around his sinfully narrow waist, resting your head against his spine.

At your anti-climactic statement, he let out a relieved sigh, ignoring the stinging tinge of blush that rose to his cheeks as he stood up straight, turning to you.

"Too many times," he half-heartedly joked, taking your hand and bringing your knuckles to his lips, muffling the hint of self-deprecation in his tone.

But you noticed nonetheless, a faint pout rising to your lips at the sound.

"Is Soda asleep? I need my boots."

Flippantly, you shrugged, slowly sliding your hands up his chest as you slowly pressed yourself against him, already beginning to nestle into your special spot at the column of his throat.

Stomach aflutter, he attempted to resist—barely—strong hands grabbing onto your hips in hopes of prying you off.

"(y/n)... I have to leave in ten minutes..."

"You will," you purred, nibbling on his lobe as your fingers threaded through the hairs at the nape of his neck, pulling him in closer. "Just give me a minute to feel my husband."

Fuck.

You knew exactly what button to press.

Smoothly, your free hand traveled from his waist to his abs, tracing each toned divot with a feather-light touch, before slowly moving down toward his towel.

"I need to..." he trailed off as you undid the towel, leaving him exposed to you.

"Need to what?" you asked, looking up at him with big, doe eyes. "Leave me alone... leave me cold?"

Against every logical thought screaming at him not to look at you, he did so anyway, breath hitching sharply at the sheer dilation of your pupils, which were blown completely wide with lust.

It was intoxicating... and it was all because of a little shower.

Every fiber of his being wanted to give in, to stay home instead and spend the night giving you all the attention you were begging for.

But his brothers were expecting him in thirty minutes, and it already took twenty to get there—

Without warning, you leaned in, hand sliding back down to his chest as your lips ghosted over his, just barely kissing the length of his teeth.

"I need you now, Kuri... please," you pleaded, the words coming out with a slight whine.

That, paired with your large, beautiful eyes staring right into his soul, and he was done for.

Who was he to say no to you?

"Dammit..." he huffed, his thick arm quickly wrapping around your waist, effortlessly hoisting you off the ground and scooping you up bridal style. "Five minutes."

Elated, you let out a gasp, happily wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Promise!" you nodded, honestly.

But, before you could say anything else, you were tossed back onto the bed, the force causing you to bounce right into his chest as he climbed on top of you.

"EEK! Kuri!" you squealed, unable to dim your smile as your hands braced themselves on his shoulders, his arms already back around you as he pulled you in for an impossibly firm kiss.

"So spoiled..." he muttered against your lips, hungrily. "Gonna be the death of me, woman."

Disbelieving, he let out an amused sigh, not at all surprised by how easily you'd gotten your way.

Charlotte Katakuri was whipped, so much so that he wasn't even sure the word no was in his vocabulary when things came to his sweet, little wife.

His sly, little wife, who had him wrapped around her manicured finger.

Though, if he was being truly honest, he wouldn't have it any other way.

BONUS !!

"Katakuri," Oven greeted with a smirk, eyes rolling over his older brother as he steadily approached. "Fashionably late, I see... that's quite unlike you."

"I got held up by some business," your husband answered in a cool monotone, expression neutral, as it always was when he was out of the house.

At that, Daifuku snickered, though he was quick to cover it up.

"We can see that..." he chuckled, eyes flicking around his brother's face. "Riveting endeavors, I'm sure."

Confused, Katakuri raised a brow, coming to a halt as he finally reached them.

Why the hell were they acting so weird?

"I take it you and (y/n) are still going strong," Oven continued, thoroughly amused as he nodded to the general's face. "Y'know... given the schmutz you've got on your—"

"Everywhere," Daifuku finished, both his and Oven's snickers now impossible to ignore.

Now even more lost than before, Katakuri glanced down at himself, a dark shade of crimson burning its way onto his face as his eyes blew wide, completely mortified.

In his rush out the house, he had failed to realize that the entirety of his chest and stomach was littered with lipstick, smudged and practically everywhere from your impromptu makeout session.

Even his face—which he'd have noticed right away if he'd taken a moment to look in a mirror—was completely marked, some even having found its way onto his lips during your game of tonsil hockey.

And his wild hair only further sold the look, the poor man looking as if he'd just stumbled out of a red light district.

"Not.a word of this... to anybody," Katakuri growled with murderous intent, gaze locked in on his two younger brothers, who were practically in the floor with laughter.

"I gotta say, the look works!" Oven bellowed, heartily, wiping a tear from his cheek.

"Yes, (y/n)'s got nice taste. The shade compliments his skin quite nicely," Daifuku nodded in agreement, crossing his arms over his chest. "Bring out the terrifying glint in his eyes."

With a tired sigh, Katakuri turned his arm to mochi, using it to wipe off the stains as he stared into the distance, ignoring their persistent barbs.

Sure, he wouldn't live this down for a long while, but if he was being honest...

It was completely and totally worth it.

Even with his reasoning, you remained silent, keeping your back turned to him as your butt planted itself at your vanity, allowing you to look in the mirror as you removed your earrings and jewelry.

Twelve hours.

You had waited up for twelve hours after your husband was called away.

Twelve hours of sitting.

Twelve hours of standing.

Twelve hours of rotting in your humongous house all by yourself as you watched the time fly by.

Morning to afternoon... afternoon to night...

Until the eleven o'clock start time of your carefully curated itinerary seemed like a thing of the distant past.

You had spent weeks meticulously planning each and every detail of each and every stop for the day—from the romantic doughnut-making session at your bakery to the candlelit lunch in the Mirro-World to the slow dancing at sunset on Snack Island's famous beach.

The kids were with Brûlée.

The house was in order.

The dress you'd commissioned fit perfectly.

This was the anniversary that you had been looking forward to since last year, the one that was supposed to be special, and blow all other anniversaries out the water.

But it was ruined because—out of all the other days in the calendar year—there just had to be a gang feud today.

And somehow—in an archipelago where one of the largest pirate crews in the world resides—there was absolutely no one else left to handle it besides your husband.

On your goddamn ten-year anniversary.

Letting out sharp huff, you slammed a fistful of your gold jewelry down on the table—causing Katakuri's eyes to widen with surprise—before abruptly pushing back in your chair and standing up, turning to head back toward the door.

You needed to go out and clear your head before you broke something.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, where do you think you're going?" your husband asked, brows furrowed with confusion and worry as he carefully grabbed your arm, stopping you from going any further.

"Out," you replied, curtly, snatching yourself from his grasp.

"Not like this," he instantly shut down, using your hip to pull you back. "This is the first word you've said to me an hour. Now that we're done with the silent treatment, you and I need to talk this through—"

"There's nothing to talk about," you scoffed, coldly, stepping out of his hold as you crossed your arms over your chest, brows cinched together. "The day is over. The day I'd planned for and had been looking forward to for months... the day that only comes once in a life time... the day that some husbands and wives never get to see."

Despite your best efforts, you couldn't help but sniffle, your eyes becoming glassy with disappointment and cheeks puffed with sadness.

"The day that I never got to see."

The look on your face made Katakuri's chest hurt—in the way a person would become pained by the sight of a wet, shivering kitten.

He wanted it to cease immediately.

"We can still do all the things you had planned, my love," he assured in a soft voice, lifting your chin with his forefinger and thumb. "There's always tomorrow."

"I don't want tomorrow," you stepped back again, shying away from his touch. "I wanted today... today was special."

Suddenly scornful, your eyes sharpened, turning to the window near your dresser.

"But these islands act as if they can't function without you at their beck and call!"

Frustrated, you let out a loud groan, feeling ready to rip your own hair out.

You asked for one day... one goddamned day... and suddenly no one was capable of doing anything themselves.

Shocked by your outburst, Katakuri was unsure of what to do.

He had never seen you so visibly furious before, as you had always made a point to keep your more unsavory emotions under strict check—force of habit after your first two years in the family, as you didn't want to make any fatal lapses in judgement.

Of course, he understood your frustration completely, and felt his own sense of guilt for having a small—involuntary—part in your stress.

So he did the only thing he knew how when things came to you.

He gave in.

Lowering himself on one knee, he snapped you out of your anger-induced stupor, influencing the sharp arch in your brow as he carefully grabbed your foot and lifted it to rest on his thigh.

"Kuri, whatever this is, I'm not in the mood," you groaned, attempting to pull away once again.

But his strong grip kept you in place, forcing you to stay put as he began to delicately undo the straps of your heel.

Lift the clasp... pull the strap... undo the buckle...

Once your pedicured toes were free, he carefully pulled off the shoe, flippantly tossing it to the other side of the room before slowly trailing kisses up your leg.

From the top of your foot... to the side of your ankle... to the curve of your calf... to the point of your knee...

All while keeping his heated gaze trained on yours.

Utterly shocked, you clammed up, suddenly unable to find your words as he moved on to your other leg.

Lift the clasp... pull the strap... undo the buckle...

From the top of your foot... to the side of your ankle... to the curve of your calf... to the point of your knee...

Quickly—before you could cave in to his ministrations—your hand lowered to cup Katakuri's cheek, stopping him from beginning a trail up your inner thigh.

He stared up at you like you were the queen of the world, like the entirety of the universe could bend to your every whim—him especially included.

"Kuri..." you started, tone warning as you raised a brow.

"Tell me what you want," his voice came out husky, with the faintest, almost phantom-like, whine. "Whatever it is... I'll get it... I'll do it."

Those words, so laced with honey in his sultry-sweet tone, made you warm all over, and suddenly incredibly confident.

Innocently, you let out a sigh, combing your fingers through his spiky hair before gliding your thumb over his parted, bottom lip.

"Right now, my love... there's nothing you have that I want," you answered, feeling as if you had everything at your fingertips.

"Jewelry? A ship? Two ships? Another house? A new island? Fuck," he rattled off, desperately grasping for something. "I'll give you an island in every damn color, if you want."

Amused, you couldn't help but hum a noise of approval.

Sure, all of that sounded nice, but seeing firsthand how utterly devoted your husband was made you fold faster than a house of cards.

"Hmm..." you smiled, cheekily, feigning contemplation. "All of that does sound nice..."

Cockily, you began to lift your foot, carefully pressing it into his chest and slowly forcing him down on the ground.

Much to his severe arousal—the sight was hot as fuck.

"But I think I know some other things you can do to make it up to me."

Catching on, a small smirk curled at the corner of his lips, a faint grunt of approval managing to rumble from his chest.

"Yes, ma'am."

Throughout the day, he had been acting all sorts of odd.

Pacing far more than usual...

On and off the snail...

Particularly tight-lipped...

It was almost as if he was nervous about something.

But when you tried to ask him about it, he quickly cut the conversation by sweeping the both of you onto a ship set for Snack Island, treating you to an impossibly fancy lunch before docking and letting you shop to your heart's content at French Fry Square.

Though now, despite the mochi blindfold covering your eyes, and the rather obvious grains of sand between your toes, you knew that he had brought you to Graham Cracker Beach—the setting to countless vacations and dates of yours over the years.

The plot seemed to be exponentially thickening...

"All right..." Katakuri exhaled, a slight shake to his breath as he brought you both to a stop, steadying you by your shoulders, "This is the place."

Carefully, he reached behind your head, undoing the knot he tied and allowing the mochi to dissolve into nothing.

To his surprise, your eyes remained shut, patiently waiting for the go-ahead to open them despite your earlier excitement.

Suspense be damned... if this was incredibly important, you weren't going to be the one to fuck it up.

Slowly, his hands slid down to grasp yours, holding them reverently as he took a moment to marvel you in the light of the sunset.

Some spouses lost the spark in their eyes after years and years of being together... but the of sight of you only further affirmed that was, in fact, not the case for Katakuri.

He would never tire of seeing your perfect face.

In the golden-orange haze, your skin seemed to radiate a nymph-like glow, the rich (f/c) of your flowy sundress only accentuating the effect.

You were a vision... a muse... every time the man looked at you felt like the first.

Hell, if he was any good at art, you would be the subject of his every work.

Perfect within your flaws... flawless within your perfection... utterly exquisite.

God, how the hell was he gonna make it through this...

"You can open your eyes now, love," he exhaled, internally frantic as he attempted to calm his rapidly beating heart.

Slowly, your eyes fluttered open, lashes fanning over your cheeks as your gaze rose to your husband's oddly nervous expression, before falling to the area surrounding him.

With a gasp, you looked around, pleasantly surprised by the assortment of dark pink orchids strewn around your spot in the sand, candles along with a small picnic setup not too far away.

"Kuri..." you gaped, completely taken aback.

"(y/n)..." he started, grasping your hands firmly. "For twenty years, you have been the sole guiding light of my life... the brightness and warmth I'd been missing for years prior to when we first met."

He took in a deep—but faint—breath, steadying himself and his words.

"I know our relationship wasn't founded on romance... and we've had our rough patches in the past... but that doesn't refute the fact that saying I do was the best decision I've ever made..."

Surprised, your eyes widened slightly.

"No single word could possibly describe the adoration that races through my chest at the very thought of you... every second in your presence is bliss... every second apart is agony..."

His words rattled you to your core, having never seen him with such an impassioned look on his face.

"I refuse to imagine a world without your light within it... or a life without you by my side... no other woman will ever measure up to your sheer perfection... nor fill the expansive space you have carved into my chest..."

Slowly, he began to lower himself onto one knee, your already glassy eyes instantly welling with tears.

"I never got to do this the proper way... but in every other lifetime I'll find you, and I promise I'll do it right..."

From the pocket of his leather vest, he pulled out a black velvet box, which popped open to reveal a ring of glittering gold, with an orchid of tempered, pink crystals sitting pretty at the very top.

You gasped once again, hands slapping over your mouth in shock.

There was no way...

"(y/n)... you are my fairytale... without you, I wouldn't be the man I am today... the father I am today... and I swear to any manner of God that I will cherish your light for the rest of my days... if you'll let me..."

For a moment, all was quiet—so much so that the man was positive you could hear his heart beating out of his ribcage.

But it wasn't long before you answered with a quiet nod, unable to string together a sentence as your rushed to throw your arms around his neck, tears rolling down your cheeks in steady rivulets.

As a little girl, you had always dreamed of a romantic proposal—your knight in shining armor sweeping you off your feet with a romantic declaration of love, promising to devote himself to only you for all his life.

Though, sadly, your arranged marriage had stamped out all hopes of that, seeing as the two of you didn't even exchange rings at your wedding.

Who knew a small part of you had held onto that dream for so long...

Without hesitation, he pulled you into his embrace, wrapping his arms tightly around your frame as you practically sobbed into his chest.

"I... love... you.. so... much!" you hiccuped, overwhelmed with emotion as you sniffled and gasped for air. "I... wouldn't... change... anything!"

Warmed, he rubbed soothing circles in your back, subtly proud for eliciting such a visceral response.

"I know you wouldn't, angel," he faintly chuckled, pressing a few soft kisses into your hair. "I love you, too."

But his words only made you cry harder, your arms tightening their hold around his neck.

"There's no escape now," you reminded in between gasps. "You're stuck with me and my snoring forever."

Lifting your chin, he met your gaze sincerely, capturing your lips in a chaste kiss before cupping your cheek in his large palm, his heart doubling in size when you instantly leaned into his touch.

He tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, carefully swiping a tear from your face with his thumb as you stared up at him with large eyes.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

"It's been over a month, and not one of you can tell me anything about her condition!"

"We've ruled out all known poisons and infections," another—more timid—doctor chimed, shaking like a leaf. "But her combination of symptoms has never been documented before. No medical textbook has ever referenced—"

"THEN LOOK HARDER!" he grit his teeth behind his scarf, voice rumbling with fury. "Comb through every library! Search every journal in the country! Leave no stone unturned!"

"But sir! We've already done this at your request! Twice!"

"Then look again!"

"General Katakuri, we're already working with limited knowle—!"

Faster than anyone could see, Katakuri surged forward, roughly yoking up the male doctor by his throat and hoisting him up to his level, eyes blazing with murderous intent.

The man was honestly lucky he was the Head Physician of Totto Land, and essential to your recovery, otherwise he'd already be six feet under.

"My wife is carrying my child... and every breath you waste is another moment they suffer."

His grip tightened, the doctor beginning to gag and choke at the crushing pressure of your husband's large hand.

"Kuri... honey..." you rasped to life, weakly, from your spot in bed.

Instantly, Katakuri froze, expression softening and grip loosening just by the sound of your voice.

He quickly turned to face you, watching as your eyes slowly fluttered open, a feeble smile rising to your lips in an attempt to quell his anger.

"Don't be rough with them... they're only doing their best."

Your gaze shifted to the team of physicians, your expression soft and apologetic despite your fatigue.

"Forgive him... please... he's under a lot of stress..."

Moved by your kindness—even in your sickly state—all the doctors' eyes turned glassy, hearts melting.

"Lady (y/n)!"

Brows furrowed, Katakuri shot them all a sharp, sidelong glance, effectively silencing their noise.

They didn't get to cheer when they had done next to nothing to help your condition.

About a month ago, you had come down with something in the middle of your bakery, your aches and fatigue suddenly even worse than they already were due to your pregnancy.

It wasn't long before you developed a fever, rash, chills, and all sorts of other concerning symptoms.

You tried to assure Katakuri that it was nothing serious, and that it would go away in its own time, but he called some of the Big Mom Pirates' best doctors to give you a check up anyway.

At first, they believed you had a bad case of the flu, and treated you accordingly.

But when your condition continued to worsen, your skin continued to pale, and your body continued to weaken, well...

That was when everyone began to worry.

Shortly after that, you were bedridden, unable to keep down much of anything and barely able to move—paired with a rather horrible cough and a staggering fever of 105 degrees, it was cause for concern for damn near the whole country.

"Darling, you should be saving your strength," Katakuri muttered, maneuvering past the vast array of flowers, gift baskets, and get-well presents that filled your shared room, damp washcloth in hand.

You refused to be transferred to some soulless white hospital away from your family, much less your children—luckily, the doctors had deduced whatever you contracted was non-contagious.

"Did you... see... what Cocoa made me today?" you asked, smiling despite your labored breathing, head weakly nodding over to your nightstand.

There sat a rather colorful crayon drawing of you at the center of a heart, a red thermometer in your mouth as you embraced your daughter in a rather large hug, heartfelt words spelled in large squiggles at the bottom of the page:

hope your feling beter today Momie!

The sight softened your husband's attitude rather quickly, a certain pang striking his heart rather sharply.

Fear.

Suddenly, he felt a small weight inch into his large palm, your one hand slowly creeping to interlock with his while the other rose to cup his cheek—the largest display of strength you'd shown in weeks.

"I'm... so sorry, Kuri..." your smile fell, a guilty frown replacing it. "I'm causing you... so much stress..."

"Don't," he quickly shut down, stopping you in your tracks. "You have nothing to apologize for."

"But... I do... you've been under... so much pressure lately... and I know... I haven't been much help—"

"You've been a help by getting some rest. And letting your body recover."

Using his free hand, he carefully removed the old cloth from your forehead and replaced it with a new one, swiping a few stray strands of hair from your face before gliding his thumb over your cheek.

"You are my wife, it's my job to worry."

You paused moment, glancing down at your hands with a bittersweet look before lifting your gaze to meet his once again.

"Then why don't you take the night off?" you asked, sincerely.

Slightly taken aback, his eyes widened.

"What?"

"Just for... some fresh air..." you coughed, covering your mouth with a nearby hanky. "You've been cooped... up with me in this room for so long... it's wearing on you..."

"No. I won't. I can't. I'm not leaving you by yourself."

"What is... a few minutes going to do? I haven't left... this bed in weeks."

"But—"

His rebuttal fell short at sight of your puppy dog eyes, your pout and your hand brushing over his skin doing little to help.

Even while feverishly delirious, you still knew how to work your man, no matter how much he hated (loved) it.

"Please... Kuri... for me?"

The general paused a moment, eyes falling shut as he let out a conceding sigh.

"Five minutes."

"Fifty."

He scoffed.

"Six."

"Forty?"

"Seven."

"Thirty-five?"

"Eight."

"Thirty?"

"Nine."

"Charlotte Katakuri, you can take a thirty minute break."

His shoulders dropped, his gaze trailing away from you as he huffed under his breath.

"...Fine."

While you had managed to convince him to take a thirty minute break, you had failed in getting him to travel anywhere off the premises.

Much to your chagrin, Katakuri had settled for sitting outside on the roof, making sure to take a spot right above your room in case of emergency.

Though, if he was being honest, this time away seemed to only be making things worse.

For the past month, he had been living in a perpetual state of fear and dread, your every cough and wheeze nearly giving him a heart attack.

Sure, he could yell at the doctors all he wanted, but he knew they were the best in all of the New World.

And they had absolutely no idea what to do.

No treatment plans, no cures.

Hell, they didn't even know what you had.

That terrified him to no end, along with the fact that you were due in less than two months, and this mystery sickness could have possibly harmed the baby.

His mind was spinning in circles, each passing thought more gut-wrenching than the last.

If you died, the man was damn near positive he would never recover.

Originally, Katakuri didn't even want to entertain the possibility, but with things slowly becoming so dire, he was beginning to lose his grip.

You were his everything; his reason for living, his reason for breathing.

You filled his world with a warmth and light he had never known.

A warmth and light that could never be replaced, not by a million women over a million years, not if a thousand swords rained over him to change his mind.

You had single-handedly carved yourself into his very bones, so much so that the mere thought of you no longer by his side made him violently ill.

How would he even function?

Waking up without you? Without your kiss good morning?

Without your blinding smile? Your infectious laughter? Your mind-numbing touch?

He couldn't imagine it.

He refused to.

And the children—

Just then, one if the roof shingles shifted, snatching the general from his thoughts.

Brows furrowed, he activated his haki in an instant, sharply whipping around to see what the trouble was.

Though, the large pair of (e/c) eyes in the darkness were a dead giveaway.

Terrified, Cocoa let out a small squeak, quickly ducking under the opposite edge of the roof.

"Soda! I think he saw me!" the four year-old loudly whispered.

"I told ya to keep quiet!" Soda quietly groaned, somewhere out of sight.

Relieved, Katakuri's shoulders sank, though he was quick to straighten up, not wanting to look so defeated in front of his children.

"Kids," he cleared his throat, hastily wiping a stray tear from his cheek. "You should be in bed."

Caught, the two hung their heads, Soda using his Fizz-Fizz fruit power to fly onto the roof—he had been carrying Cocoa on his shoulders.

"We couldn't sleep," she admitted, lowly, allowing Soda to place her on her feet as she nervously fiddled with the hem of her nightgown.

The sight punched Katakuri in the gut, and he was quick to change his tone.

Letting out a sigh, he allowed his expression to soften, waving them to come closer.

Instantly, Cocoa brightened up, a small smile rising to her lips as she quickly padded her way over, Soda shoving his hands in the pockets of his sea train pajamas as he coolly walked.

Once she was close enough, Katakuri swiftly swooped his daughter up, carefully placing her in his lap while his son sat down next to him, his small legs hanging off the edge of the roof.

For a moment, the three sat in silence, watching the sparkling stars and the full, white moon sit beautifully in the night sky.

That is... until Soda spoke up.

"We overheard the doctors," he muttered, brows furrowed and tone solemn as he kept his gaze on his lap. "They said it doesn't look good."

Katakuri's breath hitched slightly, a faint expression of worry gracing his face as he turned to his son.

The young boy pulled his knees into his chest, the tautness of his expression making it obvious that he was trying to hold back his tears.

"They said... Mom might not get better."

Unsure, the general sighed, not a clue as what to say.

He could barely console himself, how was he supposed to console someone else?

Much less his kids.

You were far better at this than he was—emotions and feelings came so naturally to you.

"Daddy?" Cocoa chimed, softly, looking up at her father.

"Yes, munchkin?" he glanced down.

"You're not gonna get us a new mommy, are you?"

Taking a moment, she fished a folded up paper from her gown's pocket, opening it to reveal another drawing.

It was just as colorful as the one she gifted you earlier, only now it depicted the whole family.

You all were posed in front of the house, the delightful smiles on your faces accentuated by the surrounding flowers and bright, circular sun in the corner.

Soda was sat on top of Katakuri's shoulders, your husband's scarf lowered enough to reveal a small, fangy grin, while Cocoa was in your arms, your belly bump accentuated dramatically.

And the very bottom held the title:

Momie, Dadie, Soso, and Me! My Family!

If before was a punch to the gut, now had to be a body slam.

"'Cause... I don't want a new one," she sniffled, eyes glassy. "I like the mommy we have."

Lifting her up, Katakuri carefully wiped the tears from her cheeks, holding her close in one arm while the other scooped up his son, plopping the seven year-old boy on his lap.

"I don't want another," he assured, turning to Cocoa sincerely. "Your mother is the only woman for me. She's the love of my life."

"But she's dying," Soda turned away, eyes watery and arms crossed tight over his legs—almost like a hug. "S'not fair."

"I don't want Mommy to die!" Cocoa's cries intensified, the poor girl burying her face into her father's chest.

"Your mother is the strongest woman I have ever met," Katakuri continued, firmly, combing soothing strokes through his daughter's hair. "And I'm not going to let you two give up on her."

Slowly, Cocoa lifted her head, wiping her nose.

"Even stronger than Grandma?" she asked, eyes wide with surprise.

"Even stronger than Grandma," he confirmed. "She will get through this. We will all get through this... together."

He swiped her tears once again, even moving to pull Soda closer.

"But not if you two give up hope."

Together, the brother and sister turned to each other, sharing a small optimistic look before turning back to their father.

"Okay..."

Just then, Cocoa let out a rather large yawn, the late hour starting to get to her—if her droopy eyes were anything to go off.

"Now, I think it's time the both of you get some sleep," he swiped a few wild strands from her face.

God, she was your mirror image—it was almost uncanny.

"Kisses?" she yawned once again, rubbing her tired eyes with a tiny, balled fist.

Nodding, he lifted her up, leaning forward to present his forehead before she placed a peck.

"Goodnight, Daddy."

When she was done, the girl presented her own forehead, allowing Katakuri to lower his scarf before he placed a kiss.

"Goodnight, munchkin. I love you."

Carefully, he lowered her bare feet to the shingles—she pulled his scarf back up for him on the way down—heart melting as he watched her clutch her drawing tight against her chest.

"I love you, too, Daddy," she hummed, giving his large arm a small hug before turning to walk to the opposite edge of the roof.

When she got there, a small mochi appendage stretched out to wrap around her waist, securing nice and tight before slowly lowering her back into her and Soda's shared bedroom—they had escaped out the very same open window.

With her situated, Katakuri turned his attention to his oddly quiet son—even compared to Cocoa, he was usually quite the chatty Cathy.

"Dad?" Soda started, his voice soft and slightly cracked.

"Yes, son?" Katakuri replied.

"How do I stay strong?"

Surprised, the general's breath hitched, slightly taken aback by the question.

'Stay strong?'

"Cocoa... she gets scared a lot," he elaborated. "And I do, too... but I know that if she's scared, I gotta be the one to stay strong."

Defeated, he hung his head, letting out a small sniffle.

"But sometimes... I get too scared."

The boy tightened his hold on his legs, his knees pulling further into his chest as a few tears slipped, his gaze lifting to his father, sadly.

If before was a body slam, now had to be a complete K.O.

Letting out a sigh, Katakuri pulled his son closer, gazing out into the midnight sky before turning to him.

"Do you want to know a secret?" he asked, pulling down his scarf to reveal his mouth, his expressions now visible to show his sincerity.

Confused, Soda raised a brow, wiping his nose with his sleeve.

"I get scared, too."

Eyes wide, the little boy gasped as if the secret of the century had just been spilled, mouth completely agape.

"REALLY?!"

Amused, the general let out a small chuckle, nodding.

"Really," he confirmed. "Anything that threatens the safety of your mother and you kids scares me. No matter how small."

The admission actually felt quite good to get off his chest, his shoulders suddenly lighter and breathing less labored.

"You don't stay strong by not being scared. You stay strong by choosing to fight despite being scared."

He turned to the boy, carefully wiping his face.

"You stay strong by being there for your sister. No matter how scared you are."

Letting out another sniffle, Soda glanced out into the twinkling distance.

"Dad... is Mom really gonna be okay?"

Positive, Katakuri nodded, firmly.

"I don't have a doubt in my mind," he assured. "Your mother is going to beat this and be back to her old self in no time."

The boy perked up, hopeful.

"You really think so?"

Katakuri nodded once again.

"I know so."

For a moment, comfortable silence settled over the two, crickets and warm, summer wind filling the empty space.

Right before their eyes, a shooting star streamed across the night sky, the sight returning a glimmer of hope to Soda's eye.

"Dad?" he asked, leaning his head against his father's side.

"Yes?" Katakuri raised a brow.

"I love you."

Surprised, Katakuri's breath hitched, slightly taken aback.

The boy almost never said I love you—he was at that age where he thought it was sissy to show affection.

Nonetheless, Katakuri smiled, ruffling his hair before pulling him closer.

"I love you, too, son."