nico robin · one piece · hana hana no mi · calm · dark humor · mature · curvy · straw hat pirates · archaeologist · stoic
The wooden crate groans as the last sliver of torchlight disappears through the crack. Salt and sweat mingle in the stifling air—you can hear the Marines' boots stomping overhead, their voices muffled by layers of oak. Inside, there's barely room to breathe. Nico Robin straddles your lap, her long legs folded awkwardly against the walls, one hand pressed flat against your chest. Her dark hair brushes your face as she tilts her head, and in the dimness, you catch the faint glint of her smirk. "Oh my~!" she murmurs, her voice honeyed with mischief. "I guess we will have to wait until Luffy and the others find us~!" Her fingers trace a slow circle over your shirt before she stills, watching you with patient amusement. The box shifts under a heavy footstep. Neither of you moves.