Penguin and Shachi - Goodnight - Heart Pirates ONE PIECE

[Setting: Deck 3, Crew Quarters Private Bedroom; 11:47 PM]

You knock on the door to Penguin and Shachi's door with a gentle tap in hopes to not disturb them but also in need of some attention to help either fall asleep or stay up with you.

The door creaks open almost immediately, as if they were both already listening for your specific footsteps. Shachi is the one who swings it wide, his ginger hair a bit messy from lounging, but his face lights up the moment he sees you.

"There you are!" Shachi chirps, his voice dropping into that playful, affectionate tone he uses just for you. "We were wondering when our favorite person was gonna come looking for us. Come here, sunshine."

Before you can even step fully into the room, Penguin is right behind him. He doesn't say anything at first, his sharp eyes scanning your face with a sudden, uncharacteristic seriousness. He notices the slight puffiness under your eyes and the way your shoulders seem a little heavier than usual.

"Bunny..." Penguin murmurs, his voice low and velvety. He reaches out, his large hand gently cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing just below your eye. "You look exhausted, darling. How many hours has it been since you actually closed your eyes?"

Shachi's playful grin softens into something more tender. He reaches out and grabs your hand, tugging you gently toward the large, comfortable pile of blankets and pillows spread across the floor of their cabin. "He's right. You've been running around like a whirlwind all day, pumpkin. It’s time to park it."

Penguin steps closer, closing the distance so you can feel the warmth radiating off him. He leans down, his lips brushing against your temple in a lingering, sweet kiss. "Don't fight us on this, little bon bon," he whispers against your skin, his breath warm. "We've already cleared a spot right in the middle. You're not sleeping alone tonight."

Shachi pats the space between them, grinning up at you. "Yeah! It's a designated cuddle zone. No arguments allowed, strawberry tart!"

[Setting: Deck 3, Galley; 11:47 PM]

You are in the galley drinking some warm milk with honey or maybe some chamomile tea with lavender when Shachi and Penguin comes in for a midnight snack and sees you still awake. "Angel, what are you still doing up?" Penguin asks gently.

"Pumpkin, are you alright?" Shachi asks.

You let out a soft, weary sigh, setting your mug down on the wooden table with a quiet clink. Your hair was a bit messy from running your hands through it all night, and your eyes looked heavy, rimmed with the fatigue of someone who hadn't seen a dream in days.

"Just... thinking," you murmured, your voice trailing off as you leaned your chin in her hand. "I can't seem to shut my brain off."

Penguin’s expression softened instantly, the playful glint he usually carried replaced by a look of pure, tender concern. He walked over, his boots thudding softly on the deck, and slid into the seat beside you. Without a word, he reached out, his large, warm hand cupping your cheek to tilt your face up toward his.

"That's not good, little bon bon," he whispered, his thumb stroking your skin in a soothing rhythm. "You're running on empty. If you keep this up, you're going to fall over mid sentence."

Shachi, not to be outdone, hopped onto the stool on her other side, leaning in close so you could feel the warmth radiating from him. "He's right, strawberry tart," he said, his voice uncharacteristically low and sweet, lacking his usual boisterous energy. "You look like you're about to wilt. And we can't have our favorite flower wilting, can we?"

He reached out, playfully but gently tugging on a strand of your hair. "How about a deal? We help you get to bed, and we don't leave until we're sure you're actually drifting off."

Penguin leaned in closer, his breath warm against her ear as he whispered, "Let us take care of you, darling. No more thinking tonight. Just resting."

[Setting: Deck 3, Corridor; 11:47 PM]

You're in between both Penguin and Shachi as they hold you trying to coax you to bed.

The dim light of the Polar Tang’s common room felt heavier than usual, and your eyes were stinging from the sheer effort of trying to stay upright. Every time you thought you could keep a conversation going, your head would loll forward, your hair obscuring your vision for a second.

"Darling... you're swaying," Penguin whispered, his voice dropping into that low, velvety tone he only used when he was being truly sincere. He had one arm wrapped firmly around your waist, pulling your small frame against his side to keep you from toppling over. He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. "If you close those eyes for just a second, the world won't end, honey bun. We promise."

On your other side, Shachi wasn't letting you off quite so easy. He was leaning his weight into you, his shoulder rubbing against yours in a way that was meant to be comforting but was also a blatant attempt to get you to lean on him.

"He's right, honey. You're practically a zombie," Shachi chimed in, though his tone was uncharacteristically soft. He reached over, gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear so he could see your face. "Come on, sunshine. You’ve been running on fumes all day. Even a little strawberry tart needs time to rest, right?" He gave you a playful, lopsided grin, trying to coax a smile out of you. "Don't make us carry you to the bunks like a sack of potatoes... though, honestly? We'd do it gladly."

Penguin tightened his grip on you, his hand splayed across the small of your back, pulling you even closer into his warmth. "Listen to them, little bon bon," he murmured, his lips brushing your temple. "Let us take care of you. Just lean back and let go."

Shachi nudged your cheek with his own, his eyes full of affection. "Yeah, pumpkin. Just one nap. We'll stay right here with you. We won't let anything wake you up."

[Setting: Deck 3, Crew Quarters Private Bedroom; 11:47 PM]

The low, constant thrum of the Polar Tang's engines vibrated through the metal walls, creating a rhythmic white noise that usually helped the crew drift off. Inside the dimly lit room, the air was warm and slightly humid, carrying the faint scent of sea salt and the familiar cologne the two men wore. The only light came from a small bedside lamp that cast long, amber shadows across the cramped space.

Penguin was seated against the headboard, his legs spread slightly to create a comfortable cradle for you. He still wore his signature penguin hat, though he had tugged the brim down a bit lower than usual, shadowing his eyes as he looked down at you with undisguised concern. His black undershirt rode up just enough to reveal a thin strip of dark hair his happy trail leading down from his navel. As he shifted to get more comfortable, his small but plump backside pressed into the mattress, providing a sturdy anchor for you to lean against.

He held you close, one arm wrapped securely around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest so you could hear the steady, calming rhythm of his heartbeat. His other hand reached for a book on the nightstand, his fingers brushing against yours as he retrieved it. He knew you hadn't slept in days, and his chest tighted with a protective ache. I can't stand seeing them this tired, he thought, his heart fluttering. They look so fragile right now. I just want to hold them until all that stress melts away.

"You're runnin' on fumes, älskling (darling)," Penguin whispered, his voice carrying that slight Swedish lilt. His breath tickled your ear as he nuzzled his face briefly against your temple. "How about I read to you? Just close your eyes and listen to my voice. I'll keep you safe right here."

Beside you, Shachi was perched on the edge of the bed, his own orca hat tilted forward. His larger frame took up more space, and as he leaned in, his big, plump ass settled onto the sheets with a soft thump. His shirt was loose, revealing the ginger colored happy trail that matched the longer hair peeking out from under his hat. His sharp triangle sunglasses had slipped slightly down the bridge of his nose from his eager leaning, but he quickly tugged his hat lower to mask the blush spreading across his cheeks.

Shachi gently took your free hand in his, cradling it with surprising tenderness for someone so rowdy. He brought your fingers to his lips one by one, pressing soft, lingering kisses to each knuckle. His blue eyes were hidden, but the way his lips curled into a fond smile was unmistakable.

"Yeah, listen to Penguin, pumpkin pie," Shachi murmured, his accent mingling with Penguin's. "You're gonna crash hard if you don't rest soon. Just relax for us, sötis (sweetie). We've got you." He pressed another kiss to the center of your palm, his rough fingertips tracing circles on your skin.

[Setting: Deck 3 Crew Quarters Lounge; 22:15]

The lounge is dimly lit, the only real light coming from a few warm lamps that cast long, dancing shadows across the walls. The distant, rhythmic hum of the Polar Tang’s engines vibrates through the floor and into the cushions of the oversized couch where you've been cornered. The air smells faintly of salt, old books, and the citrusy cologne Shachi insists on wearing.

Shachi is practically vibrating with energy, his larger frame pressed against your left side. His broad chest rises and falls with quick breaths as he giggles, a sound that's half mischief and half affection. He can't seem to contain himself. His triangular sunglasses have already begun to slide down the bridge of his nose from all the movement, revealing glimpses of those bright blue eyes. "You're just too cute when you're all sleepy, Sötis (sweetie)!" he crows, his Swedish accent thickening as he punctuates his sentence with a loud, wet kiss planted squarely on your left cheek. The contact is warm and slightly clumsy, making his hat tilt precariously over his ginger bangs.

On your right, Penguin is more methodical but no less determined. He’s wrapped one arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his side. He’s not as loud as Shachi, but his giggles are low and melodic. He shifts his weight, and you can feel the solid press of his thigh against yours. His own penguin hat is pulled low, shadowing his eyes, but the curve of his lips is unmistakable as he nuzzles into your neck before moving up to pepper tiny, fluttering kisses along your jawline.

I can't believe they're still awake, Penguin thinks, his heart doing a little flutter as he feels the heat radiating from your skin. They look so worn out, but so soft. I just want to keep them right here until they finally cave in and sleep.

"Yeah, you're gonna fall asleep right here if we keep this up," Penguin whispers against your skin, his voice a teasing murmur. He pulls back just enough to look at you, though he tugs his brim down further to hide the way his cheeks are flushing. "Maybe we should just keep kissing you until you're too tired to even keep your eyes open, Älskling (darling)."

Shachi laughs loudly at the suggestion, his glasses finally slipping to the very tip of his nose. "That's the best idea you've had all day, Penguin!" He dives back in, planting a series of rapid fire kisses across your forehead and the bridge of your nose, his breath warm and smelling of the strawberry tarts he'd had earlier. The motion causes his shirt to ride up slightly, revealing the dark line of a happy trail that disappears beneath his waistband, matching the ginger chestnut of his hair.

Penguin chimes in with another kiss, this one softer and more lingering on your opposite cheek, his hand splayed flat across your stomach to keep you anchored between them. "See? We're just helping you relax," he adds with a playful smirk, nipping gently at your earlobe.

[Setting: Deck 3 Crew Quarters; 2:14 AM]

The hum of the Polar Tang’s engines was a constant, low frequency vibration that seeped through the walls and into the mattress, creating a rhythmic backdrop to the quiet of the room. The air in the quarters was warm almost stifling, as it often was beneath the ocean's surface which made the thin fabric of Penguin’s black boxer briefs feel like the only reasonable thing to wear. His short, black spiky hair was mussed from the pillow, and a thin strip of dark hair his happy trail trailed neatly from his navel down beneath the waistband of his underwear.

Penguin shifted slightly, his movements careful and deliberate so as not to startle you. He could feel every point of contact where your body pressed against his chest and torso, the heat between you both building into a comfortable cocoon. His arms were wrapped around you with a gentle but firm possessiveness, his fingers splayed across your back. He could tell you were exhausted; the way you leaned into him wasn't just about affection it was surrender.

They’re finally letting go, Penguin thought, his heart swelling with a quiet, protective fondness. They've been running on fumes for days. I’m not letting them get up until they’ve slept for at least twelve hours.

With a slow, controlled motion, Penguin reached down to the foot of the bed. His fingers gripped the edge of the heavy blanket, and he began to draw it upward. The fabric dragged across their legs first over Shachi’s larger frame, then over you, and finally settling over Penguin’s own shoulders. He tucked the edges around your sides, effectively sealing the three of you into a warm, dark nest. His small plump butt pressed into the mattress as he adjusted his hips to give you more room to settle against him.

On your other side, Shachi shifted his weight, the mattress dipping under his bulk. Without his orca hat, his longer ginger hair was splayed across the pillow in messy waves. Shachi had also stripped down to his boxers, his own happy trail a reddish ginger hue that matched his hair. His larger, plump backside shifted as he curled his body around you, forming a second wall of heat. His blue eyes were half lidded and soft in the dim light, all traces of his usual rowdy energy replaced by something tender.

Shachi reached out a hand, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair away from your forehead with surprising delicacy. His voice came out as a low, gravelly murmur, carrying that slight Swedish lilt.

"Just close your eyes now, älskling (sweetheart)," Shachi whispered, his breath warm against your temple. "We've got you. Nothing's gonna wake you up."

Penguin nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his lips brushing against your skin as he whispered directly into your ear, his voice barely audible over the distant thrum of the ship. "Sleep, sunshine. I'm right here. Just let it all go."

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