#i might not answer right away but i love getting asks

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Mr. Oblivious

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Reynolds x F!Reader

Summary: Bob is sometimes oblivious to the fact that people find him attractive and/or like him. One of those people includes you.

Warning: a little bit of angst

Marvel Masterlist

You thought you were being obvious, but, turns out, Bob is just oblivious. You're not sure how else you can show him that you like him, other than spell it out in big, bold letters "I LIKE YOU!"

Even then, there's a chance he might interpret that as you liking him as a friend. So, you just kind of settle in your puddle of frustration.

But you can't be mad at Bob. No way. It seems like he's not used to garnering any positive attention to himself. You can tell from the way he blushes and shies away from any compliment you give him, or how he brushes off nice comments about him and counteracts with a self-deprecating comment.

It kind of pains you that he feels unworthy of such adoration and attention, like it seems ridiculous for someone to genuinely like him.

But you try your best. You give him well-meaning and thought out compliments, ones you know to be true in your heart.

And how does he responds, with a shrug and a blush.

It is sometimes cute how oblivious he can be.

You and he ran errands together while the others were on a mission. John wasn't assigned on the mission, but he wanted to stay at the tower and sulk. So it was just you and Bob.

You were checking out at the grocery store when the cashier looked at Bob and said, "Your hair looks so soft. Can I touch it?"

Bob was like a deer in headlights for a moment until he responded with, "Oh, um, sure."

He awkwardly leaned in and the girl ran her fingers through his hair. She giggled and proceeded to ask Bob his hair care routine. You weren't a jealous person, but also Bob wasn't technically yours so you had no right to be jealous in the first place. But also, you found the interaction a little amusing. The girl clearly found Bob attractive and, honestly, you couldn't fault her for her forwardness.

"I don't know, I just shampoo and dry it with a towel." He gave a shrug and a polite smile.

"What kind of shampoo?" the girl leaned in and batted her eyes at Bob.

He leaned back, confused why she was getting closer, "Oh, uh, I forget. Y/N?" he asked.

"Head and shoulders, I think," you answered with a smirk.

"Yeah. Head and shoulders." Bob replied back with a nod.

"Guess I'll try it out sometime," she gave Bob a wink as you paid, trying to hold back a laugh.

After grabbing the receipt and your groceries, you both exited the store. Bob smiled, "She was nice."

You chuckled, "She was flirting with you."

He paused in his step and looked at you confused, "She was?"

You nodded and hummed, "Mhm. It was cute though. She was cute. Did..you wanna ask for her number?"

Bob looked back into the store and looked back at you, "I'm okay." He continued his trek back to your car.

"Not your type?" you asked jokingly, but also you were curious.

"Ah, I'm-I don't know if I have a type. When I was younger, I sorta just dated anyone who was interested in me...don't know if anyone would be interested in me now."

You pursed your lips at the last bit and you wanted to shake him and yell in his face, "I'M INTERESTED YOU, DUMMY!" But you didn't want to overwhelm him, so you continued to keep your feelings to yourself.

It all came to a head when it was post a successful mission. Alexei ordered pizzas and you all were lounging around the living room of the residential floor. People sipping on their respective alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks.

The random conversations and constant bickering and bantering eventually led to a conversation about each other's love lives.

Seemingly, the only one as close to a love life was John, but it's still iffy.

"What about you, Bob?" Yelena asks. Everyone's eyes turn to him and he's frozen for a moment.

"Uh, what about me?" he asks.

"What are your views on love?" Ava asks before taking a swig from her beer bottle.

"Oh, uh, I don't think I've ever been in love or truly experienced it. Never found anyone who, uh, really loved me, I guess."

"Well, we love you," Yelena says, patting his knee, "In a familial sense."

John snorts, "All of us, but one."

You glare at John and he shrugs, "What? It's not like he knows!"

"Knows what?" Bob looks at you, to John, and back to you.

"Walker," Bucky says his name in a warning tone, "Don't."

"The kid's oblivious! He obviously doesn't know that Y/N is in love with him!"

The world seemed to pause in that moment. People held their breaths as they all turned to you. Seething, you stand up and dump the rest of your drink on John's head.

"What the fuck!"

"Deserved," Ava said.

Yelena shakes her head, "Always have to be such an asshole."

You place your glass onto the coffee table and, without another word, headed upstairs.

Once you're gone, everyone turns their heads back to Bob. He gulps, "Y/N's in love with me?" He starts fidgeting with the sleeves of his sweatshirt, "I-" he looks at his found family, "What do I do?"

"Confess your love."

"Give her some space."

"Fuck, if I care."

"Talk to her."

"Walker, shut the hell up!"

Bob abruptly stands, overwhelmed with the various answers he's receiving. That's when they all go quiet.

Bucky clears his throats, "Do you have feelings for her?"

"I-Yeah. I do."

"Then tell her."

"Okay," he replies and then heads upstairs to find you.

He checks your room, which is across from his, but you're not there. Then he hears a curse from John's room. He pushes the door open to find you kneeling at John's bedside table.

"Y/N?" you freeze and look over your should.

"Uh...hi?"

Bob can't help but smile. He crosses his arms over his chest, leans against the doorframe, and asks, "What're you doing?"

"John's a dick so I left his tv on to play Cocomelon videos on repeat and I'm gluing his tv remote to the bedside facing down so he can't turn it off."

Bob chuckles, "That's...fun."

"Yup," you murmur and go back to adding more glue onto John's remote, "You don't have to say anything to me. We can just pretend that never happened."

Bob walks further into the room, "Why?"

"Don't want it to ruin our friendship, so we'll just pretend it's not true."

"But is it?" You stay silent and Bob continues, "Is it true you're in love with me?"

You shrug, avoiding his gaze, "Does it matter?"

"Well...yeah. The one person who means the most to me, loves me back. So yeah, it matters."

You take in what he's just said and your heart beat quickens. You slowly stand and look at him, "You feel the same way?"

He shrugs so nonchalantly, "How could I not?"

You can't help but laugh in disbelief, "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Probably the same reason you didn't. Scared and didn't want things to change. Also...I don't feel like I deserve you. I mean, I'm not the best person. I have a shitty past and still kind of a mess and-" his words get stuck as you rush forward and press your lips to his.

He's taken by surprise so by the time he starts to kiss you back, you pull away, "Please don't talk about yourself like that. You're not a bad person, Robby. It's okay if you have a shitty pass, because, newflash, we all do and now we're all fucking Avengers! Also, it's okay if you're a mess. You're working on yourself and that's a good thing." you swoop away a curl that got into his face, "I wouldn't have fallen in love with you if I didn't see something in you that's worth loving."

He nods, "Okay."

"I love you."

"I..I love you too."

You lean in and he rests his forehead against yours, "I do have something to request of you."

"Yeah? What?"

"You need to be more situationally more aware because I was so obvious I had feelings for you."

He pulls back with furrowed brows, "What? No, you weren't."

"I was! So painfully obvious!"

"She was," John says as he appears in the doorway, "Also, why're you in my room?"

You pull away from Bob and shrug, "Thought I saw a mouse go into your room. Good night!" you tug on Bob's arm, leading him out of John's room.

You two go into yours, locking the door behind you.

Down the hall, you hear John yell, "DID YOU GLUE MY REMOTE TO THE TABLE?!"

[keeper-of-all-the-random-things]

Tis not the prompt, but also not not the prompt. It gets there (sort of) by the end :)

…

The pastry was a work of art, delicate custard in a gold swirling crust and adorned with flowers made of fruit slices and colored sugars. Theo was almost afraid to eat it for fear it wouldn’t taste nearly as good as it looked. He observed it from every angle before taking a small bite.

He melted. It was the most glorious thing he’d ever had. He closed his eyes and savored each subsequent bite until all that was left were crumbs. He had to check himself before he licked the plate.

“Need a box?”

Theo jumped and remembered he was in a public bakery. He glanced up to find the baker’s daughter grinning at him, a serving tray propped against her hip.

“I think I might,” he said, passing her his empty plate. “Wouldn’t want any of this to go to waste.”

The next time he visited, the baker’s daughter was behind the counter arranging cakes in the glass display case. She smiled at his arrival.

“Welcome back! What can I get for you?”

Theo thought a moment and said, “Surprise me.”

He sat at the same table as the first time and tried to draw the pastries, the bakery, the baker’s daughter. The simple lines couldn’t capture the magic of the place. Theo wasn’t sure he’d be able to describe it if asked. He just knew the week had dragged on forever as he waited to return.

“Is that me?” The baker’s daughter arrived with a covered dish.

Theo blushed and resisted the urge to cover the drawing. He nodded.

She touched her hair as if the drawing were the first time she’d ever seen herself. “It’s nice.”

“Thank you …”

“Piper.” She smiled. She was always smiling.

“Thank you, Piper.”

Almost as an afterthought, Piper handed him the plate, uncovered to reveal a trio of brightly colored truffles arranged in a shallow bowl. A few minutes later, she returned to replace Theo’s empty bowl with a box wrapped in grey ribbon. She said, “A surprise for later.”

At home, Theo went straight to his room, carefully avoiding his family and the staff. He wasn’t sneaking. He just didn’t want to answer questions. He didn’t get a chance to open his gift before a knock interrupted him. Fern, Theo’s favorite staff member, stuck her head in then closed the door behind her.

“Hate to be the bearer of bad news,” she said, “but your parents are looking for you.”

“Weather?”

“Clear. For now.”

Theo smoothed his shirt and nodded. “Okay. Ready.”

He followed Fern and wondered what his parents wanted. When both of them called a meeting together, it was hardly ever a good thing. He was taken aback when he found them smiling at him.

Fern patted his back and deftly exited before she could be drawn into the conversation.

“My darling,” Mother said, “you know your father and I love you.”

That was not an encouraging start.

“And we want you to take your time to grow into yourself,” Father added.

Mother took Theo’s hand. “We don’t want to pressure you –”

“– but we’re not getting any younger –”

“– and we want to make sure you’re settled –”

“– in case anything happens to us.”

Theo stared, uncomprehending.

Father must have sensed his confusion. “Marriage, son. We’re talking about marriage.”

Theo balked. “Surely there are other measures of security that aren’t marriage.”

“We’ve already arranged a few dates for you,” Mother said as if Theo hadn’t spoken.

“Oh my go–”

“It’ll be fun,” Father said.

“Fun.” Theo extracted his hand from his mother’s and slowly backed away. “Please excuse me while I process this for the next two to eighty business days.”

He managed to close the door behind him before breaking into a run.

…

“Is that for your crush? Mr. Dreamy McDreamboat?” Rosie asked from the sink.

“Never say that again,” Piper groaned. “He’s not my crush.” She finished sprinkling a layer of sparkling sugar over her latest creation.

“But it is for him, right?”

“No.”

Rosie smirked, relentless.

“Fine, yes.” Piper sealed the box with more force than strictly necessary and placed it in the cooler in anticipation for her definitely-not-a-crush’s visit.

He’d quickly become a favored regular. Piper looked forward to surprising him with new desserts that he drew and studied like they were the greatest things he’d ever seen.

“Ooh! Here he comes!” Rosie’s voice rang through the kitchen. “Better fix your face before you scare him away with all the drool.”

Piper waved dismissively in Rosie’s direction. “Hi, Theo.”

Theo took a few seconds to find her then broke into a smile. Piper enjoyed making him smile, though she would never admit it to Rosie.

“Hi, Piper,” Theo greeted as he browsed.

Piper enjoyed watching him choose from her creations. She enjoyed his greeting and his conversations and fine. She had a crush. But Rosie didn’t need to know.

She waited until Rosie finished her shift and went home before making her way to Theo’s table with the box she’d prepared. She gripped it tightly, trying to calm the sudden bout of nerves.

Theo looked up at her approach. His sketchbook sat open to a colorful drawing of the display case, cakes popping brightly fading to half finished breads and Piper in the background kneading dough.

Piper nearly tripped over her own foot. She stood near the table, once ordered plan a jumbled mess in her head.

Theo noticed, his easy grin quieting into concern as he asked, “Everything alright?”

She thrust the box toward him with both hands and said in a rush, “Will you go out with me?”

His face went through a whole run of emotions.

Piper’s face burned. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to say yes. Obviously. I just … sorry.” She pulled the box back towards her body.

Theo stopped her, gently taking the box. “I’d love to.”

“Really?” Piper smiled tentatively.

“Really.” Theo smiled back in near full radiance, but Piper couldn’t help noticing his eyes seemed sad.

…

“Are you okay?”

Theo looked up from the blank page he’d been staring at for the last ten minutes. Piper watched him quizzically.

“I’m okay,” Theo said, but he had trouble working up the smile he knew she expected. They’d been on several dates since she’d first asked him. Dinners, movies, bowling. Completely normal activities for completely normal people. Theo went home feeling like a fraud. He didn’t want to ruin anything with responsibility. His parents didn’t know about Piper yet. Their deadline loomed over him, making every date with Piper feel like an ending. He had to tell them.

He had to tell her.

“Something’s wrong,” Piper said now. “You’ve been staring at nothing for a long time. And you haven’t eaten your dessert.” She plopped down in the seat opposite him.

Theo studied the pastry to avoid eye contact. He tapped his pencil in an uneven rhythm on the table, his knee bouncing at a separate beat.

Piper’s friend watched them with no attempts at subtlety from behind the counter.

“Theo. Are you in trouble?”

“Yes. No. I …” Theo shook his head. Piper’s concern made his guilt burrow deeper.

“Do you … are we breaking up?”

He should. He should let her go, but selfishly, he didn’t want her to leave.

“No, no.” He offered a smile that felt like a grimace and bit into the latest work of art Piper created for him. He let the flavors melt slowly, slowly, stalling, before saying softly, “I think you’re the one.”

…

“Piper, I think you’re the one.” Theo’s expression seemed more sad than ‘in love’ as he held the remains of his dessert.

Piper tried to piece together his scarce clues and ended up more confused that she was at the start.

He whispered, “She’s the one,” as if trying to convince himself of his own feelings.

Piper’s confusion spiked with fear when several people in dark suits surrounded the table. Theo wouldn’t meet her eye.

“What’s going on?” Rosie came out of the back room, approaching their table.

The suits tightened their circle, otherwise ignoring Rosie’s advance.

“Pip, are you alright?”

“You’ve been chosen,” said a stern looking woman to Piper’s left, “by the Crown Prince Theodore Archibald Prescott –”

“Crown Prince?” Piper blanched.

Rosie froze, wide eyed, just outside the circle.

“– to be married by the month’s end,” the woman finished.

“Married!” Piper protested as another suit pulled her out of her seat by her arm. “Theo –”

Theo said nothing. He stared at the floor and didn’t get up until the suits had dragged Piper to their vehicle. One suit stayed behind to keep Rosie from following.

“Don’t hurt her,” Piper called out as she was shoved into the dark interior of the car.

“We don’t have any reason to if you cooperate,” the stern woman said without looking back. “She’ll be left alone as soon as we make the palace.”

The palace.

Piper stilled as the situation caught up to her fully.

Theo climbed into the car and sat opposite Piper and the suit. He glanced at Piper once before fixing his gaze on his shoes.

Piper glared at him for the whole ride.

It was announced the prince was looking for a wife, but the baker girl didn’t care. That was until the very tired and sad-looking boy wearing a hoodie and sweatpants bit into a cherry tart, looked as if he was about to weep, and whispered: "She’s the one." Then a bunch of officials entered.

[heartyluv]

I LOVE how you write the lads guys!!! May I please request taking advantage (in a kind way, of course) of zayne’s medical expertise and asking him silly medical questions? Just like really random stuff! lounging around with him at home or being out and about while asking those questions would be so funny and I’m sure he would kind of like it lol

Note: This idea is too cute, I love it. Thank you so much, luvly. I felt like this works best as headcanons, so I hope that’s okay. 😚 Enjoy!

Creds to @/strangergraphics for the dividers!

Warning: Just a brief explicit headacanon after you and Zayne have been intimate.

Zayne/Reader

✴︎ Dating a doctor meant that you officially had a walking medical encyclopedia for a boyfriend and you had no shame in utilizing his knowledge. Thankfully for you, Zayne was always happy to deliver whenever you asked him all kinds of questions.

✴︎ I feel like when you start getting comfortable enough to ask him, it’s really simple things. Like it’s questions about your personal health at first. You’ve definitely asked him something like; “Babe, how do I make my headaches go away faster?” and “What do you think are the best vitamins I should take so I don’t have to keep taking gross ones that aren’t doing anything?”

✴︎ Not only does Zayne answer your questions, but he gives you some deeper insight so that you have your own knowledge about things. And you like learning from him—especially because of the way he looks at you as you stay hooked onto his every word.

✴︎ He loves the little text messages you send him. You ask him something almost everyday, sometimes even attaching a photo for reference LOL. I picture you at the supermarket, stumbling upon these new health beverages that you want to try out. But if your Dr. Zayne says that they’re simply drinks full of more sugar than actual benefits, you’ll have zero problem putting them back on the shelf. “Do any of these actually work for gut health? I sent you the nutrition label. What do you think?”

✴︎ I believe he always takes your questions seriously, but you have moments where you ask him something so ridiculous that he can’t help but laugh. “Zayne, babe… I ate like three apples and a pomegranate, and now my mouth feels weird. Am I dying?” Don’t catch him on a day where he’s feeling goofy either, because he might scare you a little bit.

✴︎ “You may have oral allergy syndrome, my love.” Just imagine his tone being dead serious and the silence that follows. And when you start losing it over the phone, he tries to calm you down, but he’s just smiling so hard at your theatrics. When you search it up and you start worrying if you’ll ever be able to eat another mango again in your life, he tries to suppress his laughter, all while attempting to soothe you at the same time.

✴︎ You’ll be walking around while you guys are on a date and will randomly ask him how many calories does he think you’ve burned, just to see how accurate he is compared to your walking app that tracks all of that for you. Not only does he get incredibly close, he’s also able to do the same with the amount of steps you’ve actually taken.

✴︎ “Quick, we’ve been walking thirty minutes, normal paced. How many calories? Go!”

✴︎ Just wait till you start watching one of those medical shows. You never watch an episode without him because you have to know how accurate the writing is. He’s gotten through three seasons with you and sometimes, he’d answer questions before you even asked because he just knows you so well. And you legitimately learn so much that even you start pointing out unrealistic things yourself.

✴︎ “That doesn’t even make sense. He was hit in a major artery, wasn’t he Zayne? He shouldn’t even be able to argue with a doctor right now.” He’s so proud of you, by the way. How information sticks with you. And honestly? He finds it sexy—particularly knowing that he’s the reason why you know the things that you do.

✴︎ Times when you try to eat healthier, you always ask him how many calories something will be if you take something out or off. Like you’d still eat junk food or foods that aren’t exactly healthy, but you wonder what the difference will be if you add a vegetable. LOLLL.

✴︎ “Zayne, if I put only mushrooms on the pizza, is that better?”

“Honey, I think it’s best to just discard the pizza entirely in order to properly fulfill the goal you intended to reach.”

“But Zayne…It’s Friday and it’s pizza.”

✴︎ Some more questions off the top of my head from you would be; “If I eat more carrots than usual, will the decrease my chances of having to wear those thick bifocals when we’re old?

“If I’m on top more often when we have sex, will that tone my thighs out more?”

“How is it possible to drink a gallon of water a day? There’s just not enough time to drink all that liquid.”

✴︎ Omg, you totally believe that ginger is like the cure all and you even make him eat a raw slice of it a day LOLLLL. He admits that it has its benefits, but when he tries to tell you that you have to do more than just eat ginger, you listen, but you’re still so insistent about it.

✴︎ “Despite the benefits and your complete belief in the sacred ginger, love, please make sure you continue to take your daily supplements. Add to your regimen so that you improve your health—don’t take from it believing that something is an optimal replacement.”

✴︎ This one is a little explicit. But, I imagine you and him finish having sex, he’s on top of you, both of you already came and feel good. And even when you’re breathless, even with the glorious man above you, you can’t help it when you ask: “Do you think we’ve met our quota on physical activity for the next few days?”

✴︎ Zayne can’t help but laugh, leaning down to kiss your neck. But he’s also filthy enough to move his hips just a little, hinting that he in fact could go again and says, “I think it’s best to try again… One more time, just to be safe. I’m sure the quota will be more than met once I’m finished with you.”

✴︎ Of course you’re going to let him fuck your brains out again. Why wouldn’t you let Dr. Zayne take care of you? What kind of patient would you be if you didn’t?

[theskywithin]

✦✧ Juno in the Signs ✧✦

Some part of you already knows how you love. Not the way you flirt. Not the kind of person you’re drawn to. But the pattern that repeats. The part of you that keeps handing over your tenderness in the same shape, hoping it lands differently this time. That’s Juno. The version of you that wants to be chosen and fears what that might cost. The place where your devotion lives and the conditions you attach to giving it. This isn’t about the partner you’re looking for. It’s about who you become when love gets close enough to stay.

Juno in Aries

There’s a door inside you that no one else gets to walk through, and Juno in Aries is the reason you keep it locked. Not because you don’t want to be known. But because you remember what happened the last time you were fully seen: someone tried to own you. You don’t want peace. You want truth even when it’s sharp. Especially when it’s sharp. You want to be met by someone who has done away with polite affection and knows how to stand in front of you without flinching. Who doesn’t shrink when you’re loud, or mistake your certainty for cruelty. Who knows that love, for you, is presence in its purest form, fast, hot, honest. Still, underneath all that momentum is a quieter story. You’ve learned to bolt before you break. You test before you trust. You'd rather be alone than misunderstood while standing right next to someone. And so the vow is simple, but not easy: I will not soften just to stay. I will not love at the cost of my own clarity. If we’re going to do this, you and I, it has to be real, or not at all.

Juno in Taurus

There’s a part of you that wants love to feel like a held breath finally released. Juno in Taurus remembers what it’s like to live on edge waiting for the rug to be pulled, for the silence to start, for the goodbye you weren’t warned about. You’ve known what it’s like to hold the shape of someone else's absence, to steady what was never yours to anchor. So now, you crave something quieter. Not easier, just steadier. You don’t want fireworks. You want someone who shows up, again and again, without having to be asked. You want to be loved like a ritual, a hand on your back, the sound of their voice in the morning, the way their eyes soften when you’re tired. And still, you stay too long. You grip too hard. You call it devotion when it’s really fear of beginning again. Because underneath your patience lives a wound: that if you stop giving, the whole thing might go cold. But the vow here is deeper than comfort. It’s about learning that love doesn’t have to arrive in crisis to be real. That you are allowed to want what stays, not because you’re afraid of loss, but because your nervous system finally knows what yes feels like. You don’t need to earn stillness. You are allowed to be kept.

Juno in Gemini

There’s a part of you that’s still waiting for someone to really listen. Not nod-along listening. Not waiting-for-their-turn-to-speak listening. But the kind that hears you in the pauses, the kind that notices when your tone changes halfway through a sentence and knows something just shifted underneath. Juno in Gemini remembers what it’s like to be charming and misread. To be mirrored, but not met. You learned to shapeshift to hold attention. To make your questions more interesting than your needs. To keep talking so no one noticed what you weren’t saying. Now, you long for a partner who doesn’t just love your mind but understands that your mind is a maze built to protect your heart. Someone who keeps asking even when you start laughing instead of answering. Someone who doesn’t mistake your lightness for simplicity. You don’t need someone who finishes your sentences. You need someone who waits for the next word without assuming they know it. The vow here is this: I will not abandon my contradictions just to feel understood. I will not trade depth for connection. If we’re going to do this, I want a love that listens harder when things get quiet.

Juno in Cancer

There’s a part of you that only ever learned how to love by holding. Juno in Cancer remembers being the emotional backbone. The one who stayed up late, stayed quiet, stayed calm. The one who made room for everyone else’s ache while swallowing your own. You learned to love like a shelter, sturdy, patient, warm, and to brace for the storm no matter who caused it. But what you long for isn’t rescue. It’s reversal. You want to be the one who leans. You want to be met in the softest part of yourself and not be asked to explain why you’re crying again. You want someone who sees your sensitivity not as sweetness, but as strength that never got to rest. You don’t want grand declarations. You want someone who notices your moods before you name them. Who knows what your silence means. Who remembers the version of you that hides when you’re afraid of being left. Still, you test. You wait to be proven safe. You pour first and wonder later if you’ll be poured into. But the vow here isn’t to stop loving that deeply. It’s to stop doing it alone. You’re not meant to be the roof and the floor and the walls. You’re meant to be held, too. The contract is this: I will not keep offering comfort in place of connection. I will not stay strong just to be loved. If we’re going to do this, I want to be felt the way I’ve always felt others, fully, instinctively, and without asking for proof.

Juno in Leo

There’s a part of you that wants to be looked at without being reduced. Juno in Leo remembers what it’s like to be adored for your image, not your interior. You’ve been praised for your presence, your confidence, your strength, your steadiness, but not always held when those things cracked. You know what it’s like to be chosen for what you give, and abandoned when it’s your turn to need. Now, you don’t want an audience. You want intimacy. You want someone whose gaze doesn’t slip when you’re messy, unsure, undone. Someone who isn’t just drawn to your heat, but who stays through your quiet seasons, the ones where your heart folds in on itself and asks to be seen without asking. Still, you protect yourself with intensity. You offer loyalty before vulnerability. You give and give, hoping someone will eventually look past the generosity and ask what’s underneath. But the vow here is this: I won’t perform for love anymore. I won’t set myself on fire just to feel wanted. You want the kind of connection that doesn’t fade when the applause stops. The kind that sees the flare and the flicker and stays for both.

Juno in Virgo

There’s a part of you that wants to be loved in the moments no one claps for. Juno in Virgo remembers what it’s like to be valued for your usefulness. You learned early that care is what you give, not what you ask for. That love is something you prove through reliability, through small, invisible acts of devotion. And so you became dependable. Thoughtful. Predictable. Safe. But deep down, you want something messier. You want someone who doesn’t need you to be easy all the time. Someone who doesn’t interpret your quiet observations as coldness. Someone who stays when you finally say what you really need and doesn’t flinch when it’s imperfect. Still, you edit yourself. You smooth over the edges. You fix things before anyone knows they were broken. And then you wonder why no one offers to carry the weight with you. The vow here is this: I will not stay quiet just to be appreciated. I will not perform calm just to be kept. You don’t want love that thanks you for making everything easier. You want love that says, you don’t have to carry all of it. Let me in. Even here.

Juno in Libra

There’s a part of you that’s still trying to unlearn the habit of adjusting mid-sentence. Juno in Libra remembers what it’s like to make yourself agreeable just to keep the peace. To smile while your stomach tightens. To choose connection over clarity, again and again, because silence seemed safer than being misunderstood. You became fluent in compromise. You studied the temperature of every room. You knew how to pivot mid-conflict, how to soften your truth so it wouldn’t scrape anyone on the way out. And still, part of you kept wondering: if they love me, why do I feel so far away from myself when I’m with them? Now, you want a different kind of harmony. Not the kind that keeps things pleasant, the kind that keeps things honest. You want to be able to disagree without disappearing. To bring your whole self to the table and not be punished for having angles. Still, you hesitate. You scan. You anticipate what’s needed before it’s asked. You mistake being easy to love for being loved at all. But the vow here is this: I will not trade authenticity for affection. I will not shrink myself to avoid the discomfort of being real. You want a relationship that can hold contradiction and stay. One where agreement isn’t the goal. Understanding is.

Juno in Scorpio

There’s a part of you that wants to hand someone the knife and finally trust that they won’t use it. Juno in Scorpio remembers what it’s like to be known too soon, by someone who hadn’t earned it. To expose something delicate and watch it be mishandled. Not with cruelty, but with carelessness. Someone who got close because they could, not because they knew how to stay. So now you protect it all. The longing. The rage. The part of you that wants to merge without being erased. You keep it quiet, not out of mystery, out of muscle memory. Out of knowing that once someone sees the unfiltered version of you, they get to decide what it means. And you’ve already lived through what happens when they choose wrong. You don’t want casual. You don’t want sweet. You want someone who understands that love, for you, is made of silence and consequence. You want to know they won’t leave when it’s inconvenient. You want to be able to fall apart in their hands and not have to clean it up afterward. But even you don’t always know what you need. So you wait. You watch. You test. You say “I’m fine” when you mean “please don’t move.” The vow here isn’t about surrender. It’s about being safe inside your own intensity. The truth is: you don’t need someone to survive you. You need someone who won’t interpret your darkness as something they need to fix. You need someone who stays, not because they’re unafraid of who you are, but because they don’t think they need to understand all of it to respect it.

Juno in Sagittarius

There’s a part of you that stops breathing when love starts to feel like a room with no windows. Juno in Sagittarius remembers what it’s like to be contained. To be loved by someone who admired your spirit, but tried to manage it. Someone who said “I see you,” and then tried to soften the parts that made you feel most alive. You remember what it’s like to be mistaken for a phase. For a story someone wanted to read but never finish. So now you watch for the signs early. The flicker of control disguised as closeness. The slow expectation that you’ll explain every instinct before following it. You’ve learned that sometimes love doesn’t come with chains, just questions that shrink you. You don’t need endless space. You just need to know that your growth isn’t threatening. That your curiosity isn’t a flaw to be solved. That the way you move toward what’s next, toward what’s honest, won’t be misread as disloyalty. The vow here is this: I will not dim my wonder to make someone feel secure. You want to be chosen by someone who doesn’t need you to shrink your reach to keep them close. You want love that doesn’t ask for proof. You want to be held without being handled.

Juno in Capricorn

There’s a part of you that doesn’t know what to do with love that asks nothing of you. Juno in Capricorn remembers what it’s like to carry the weight for both people. To be the steady one. The capable one. The one who knew how to make it work. You’ve been loved for your reliability, your structure, your spine, but not always for your softness. So now, you measure everything. You notice how people move, what they keep their promises to. You don’t expect them to stay, you expect to manage their leaving. You offer safety without ever asking for it back. But there’s a part of you that’s still hoping someone might see it, the quiet exhaustion behind your calm, the tenderness beneath your timing. You want someone who can sit inside your silence and not ask you to smile through it. You want a love that holds without having to be held together. The vow here is this: I will not audition for loyalty. I will not keep building things just to prove I’m worthy of staying. You don’t need love that praises your strength. You need love that sees the ache in your composure and stays anyway. Not because you’ve earned it. Just because it’s time.

Juno in Aquarius

There’s a part of you that doesn’t flinch when love goes quiet because you’ve learned to expect connection to come with static. Juno in Aquarius remembers what it’s like to be loved in theory. To be someone’s idea. Someone’s fascination. To be held at arm’s length by someone who claimed to understand you and then backed away the moment you acted like a real person instead of a possibility. So now, you hover just slightly outside of closeness. Not because you’re cold, but because you know how easily intimacy can become translation. You’ve been asked to subtitle your feelings, to explain your instincts, to slow down your inner world so someone else could keep up. You’ve performed calm just to avoid being misread as uncaring. But underneath all that space is a longing you rarely admit: the desire to be chosen without needing to shrink or explain a single thing. You don’t want your weirdness celebrated, you want it left alone. You don’t want your detachment interpreted, you want it trusted. The vow here is this: I will not contort my interior to fit someone else’s outline of closeness. You want a partner who doesn't need to label everything. Who understands that when you’re quiet, it’s not distance but depth. Who stays, not because they understand you perfectly, but because they’ve stopped trying to decode what could simply be held.

Juno in Pisces

There’s a part of you that loves like a tide, full, generous, rising without needing to be asked. Juno in Pisces remembers what it’s like to become the ocean for someone who never learned to swim. To pour and pour until you mistook your own absence for intimacy. You’ve blurred your edges to keep others warm. You’ve mistaken devotion for vanishing. So now, you float somewhere between hunger and hesitation. You want a love that feels like music only you can hear, but this time, you want to hear yourself in it too. You want to be met in the fog, not rescued from it. You want someone who understands that your tenderness is not an opening, it’s a boundary made of water. But still, you offer everything before asking for anything. You romanticize the ache. You turn red flags into poetry. You wait for someone to read your silence like a map. The vow here is this: I will not turn into mist just to be held. You need a love that doesn't try to define you. One that doesn't panic when your emotions change shape. One that can hold your vastness without trying to name every wave. You are not a lesson in selflessness. You are the sea, and the sea doesn’t apologize for being deep.

✨ The Sky Within A book for anyone who’s ever looked at their birth chart and wondered what it really means. The Sky Within helps you decode your placements not as traits, but as memory, longing, and becoming. Available on Amazon and all digital platforms.

[lucy-literates]

Unspoken Things

A/N: my requests are open :) and we love slightly jealous Bucky

Synopsis: Bucky Barnes gets jealous when someone flirts with you and doesn't know how to tell you.

The bar wasn’t exactly his scene, but Bucky came anyway—mostly because you asked.

He stuck to a corner booth, nursing a beer he didn’t really want, trying to pretend he was listening to whatever Sam was saying. His eyes kept drifting back to the bar, where you were talking to some guy with a Wall Street smile and too much cologne.

The guy leaned in closer, saying something that made you laugh—head tilted back, eyes bright, completely unaware of the way Bucky's stomach turned at the sight.

It was stupid. You weren’t his. He had no right to feel like this.

But he did.

He clenched his jaw, looking away. The glass in his hand creaked faintly beneath the grip of his vibranium fingers.

"You know you’re being obvious, right?" Sam said, low enough only he could hear.

Bucky didn’t answer.

“She’s allowed to talk to people.”

“I know,” Bucky muttered.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Then why do you look like you’re five seconds from throwing that guy through the wall?”

Bucky stared at the wood grain of the table, voice flat. “Because I don’t know how to say what I want without messing it up.”

And the truth of it sat heavy in his chest—he could survive the war, the brainwashing, the decades lost to HYDRA. But this? Watching you slip just a little further away while he stayed silent? That might be what finally broke him.

If looks could kill, the man who just put his hand on your hip would be dead. Sam looked at Bucky, concerned, wondering how much more of this Bucky would endure before he walked over there himself, or left completely. He chose the second option, standing up. His chair fell back and would've hit the floor if not for Sam's fast reflexes.

You looked over to where the boys were sitting, only spotting Sam, who made eye contact. You mouthed "Where's Bucky?" and Sam just pointed at the door. You excused yourself from the handsy man in front of you and headed for the exit. Sam sped up, to walk beside you.

You walked out to see Bucky taking the car keys from the valet. You and Sam jogged up to him just before he got in the car. He looked at you both and just said "get in". You got in the front, Sam in the back, just buckling up as Bucky sped off. His flesh hand was white knuckled on the steering wheel; his metal one was close to causing indents.

You got back to the tower, Bucky parked the car and didn't bother waiting for you or Sam, stalking off to the elevator and heading up to his room.

You went back to yours, bidding goodnight to Sam. You took your time showering and getting ready for bed. You laid there, thinking about what happened at the club.

Next thing you knew, you were standing in front of Bucky's door.

You gently knocked 3 times, the door was pulled open as your third knock finished. "how-" you started. "Super soldier hearing, I heard you walk up to my door" he deadpanned. He opened the door wider and let you in, closing it behind you.

"What happened?" you asked him

He sat down on his bed and looked up at you. "What do you mean?" he challenged.

"I mean" you started, slowly walking closer until you were stood in front of him "What happened tonight? Why did you leave like that?" You were directly in front of him now. His fingers twitches with an itch to place them on your hips. He balled his fists instead.

"I didn't like watching that man touching you" He whispered "It made me angry"

You chuckled, and he looked at you, bewildered, "Is it funny?" he asked. You shook your head, figuring out what he meant by being angry. "Was the normal angry, grumpy kind of feeling, or was it an intense kind of angry?" he looked confused "intense".

"Thats jealousy, Buck"

"It's not-"

"You sure?"

"No"

He looked down at his lap. Your fingers came to rest under his chin, tilting his head up. You sat down in his lap, giving him no choice but to hold your hips, and kissed him.

It was slow, gentle at first but became much more intense.

"I wanted to do that a long time ago" he confessed

"I know"

[dramagodesss]

twenty one : it hurts to say goodbye

playin' the players

you’re everywhere and nowhere at once.

every new party, every rooftop, every photo someone tags you in — they’re all starting to blur together. you keep the lipstick sharp, the drinks full, the smile just wide enough to fool the right people.

you let cleo drag you to another house show downtown. kie insists you dance. sarah throws her arm around you like a shield. you laugh, you drink, you vanish in the bathroom for a little too long.

you answer texts with half a heart. you leave people on read. you keep your notifications silent.

because it’s easier this way.

no one mentions the bet out loud anymore. no one talks about the rooftop blow-up. and that silence is louder than anything.

you catch yourself zoning out sometimes — like tonight, sitting on a stranger’s balcony with a red solo cup pressed to your lips and someone talking about camera angles beside you. you don’t even remember how you got here.

the sky’s dark. your fingers are cold. and the only thing you feel is tired. not physically. just… tired of it all.

of pretending you’re fine. of pretending it didn’t hurt. of pretending you didn’t care about both of them.

because you did. you do.

you check your phone again. nothing new.

and even though you told yourself you wanted space — that you didn’t want to talk to jj or rafe or anyone — it still stings.

for a second, you almost text him. jj,

i miss you jj,

i’m not okayjj—

or him.

rafe,

i need you rafe,

please come get me rafe—

but you don’t.

you just tip back your drink, lean your head against the cool brick wall behind you, and close your eyes.

and this time, you don’t dream of your brother. you just dream of leaving.

november 23rd

 wes’s birthday.

he would’ve been fifteen today. the same age you were when he died in your arms.

fifteen.

you whisper it out loud, like saying the number might somehow slow the ache in your ribs. it doesn’t.

you don’t tell anyone what day it is. not sarah. not kie. not even cleo, who’s always been the best at noticing when you’re unraveling.

you wake up late, stay curled under the covers, and pretend the sunlight isn’t bleeding in through the curtains. you pretend the world isn’t still spinning.

but your mind won’t shut up.

flash. the car. the metal. your hands shaking too much to call 911 the first time. you still remember the exact ringtone when you finally did. your voice high, breaking, telling them please please hurry.

flash. his blood on your hoodie. his fingers gripping yours. him looking at you like he already knew. like he was trying to make you feel better.

“it’s okay, sissy. i love you.”

you remember how his breath rattled. how the words barely made it out. how you sobbed “no no no no no” over and over and held his face like that could keep him here.

he was twelve. twelve and kind and funny and stubborn and obsessed with superhero movies and used to tell people you were his best friend.

you were fifteen and too slow. too scared. you’ve never forgiven yourself for that.

you don’t cry right away today. you just sit there, wrapped in your blanket, phone in your lap, scrolling through pictures you don’t let anyone see.

one of him in a beanie too big for his head. one where he’s holding your hand at the beach. a video of him singing off-key in the car, making you laugh so hard you couldn’t breathe.

and then you do cry. quiet at first. then messier. grief doesn’t knock anymore — it just breaks the door down.

and still, you don’t text anyone. you don’t go out. you don’t even move for hours.

because today isn’t about anyone else.

today is wes’s.

and you just miss your little brother. you miss him so goddamn much you think it might kill you.

but you don’t plan it.

you just wake up, throw on the first hoodie that still smells like home, and walk until your legs hurt.

the tattoo shop’s half-empty. the guy at the counter doesn’t ask many questions, which you’re grateful for. you hand him the lyrics on a crumpled piece of paper.

“time cast a spell on you, but you won’t forget me.”

it was wes’s favorite. he used to dance like an idiot in the kitchen to it. used to belt the chorus like it was written for him. used to say “this is what i’m gonna sing when i’m famous.”

he never got the chance.

so now it’s on your skin — permanent, etched low across your back where only the people you choose will ever see it.

you don’t flinch when the needle starts. the pain feels good, almost. real. anchoring.

when it’s done, you pay in cash and thank the artist with a hoarse voice, throat tight from holding everything in.

by the time you get back to the apartment, golden hour is stretching lazy over the buildings. your roommates are gone. the world feels hushed.

you go straight to the rooftop.

hood still up.

joint between your fingers.

you light it without thinking, breathing deep. the air’s sharp. the sky’s turning pink. you feel… numb. or maybe just quiet.your phone buzzes once in your pocket. you ignore it. then again. again.

taglist : @beewritess @davinashifts333 @lanasangelsz @littlefreak-liz @drewstarkeyswife0 @lalaloopsieparty @ethanthequeefqueen @wtfisastiles @angelicameron @moth-feeet @drewstarkeyswife-7 @hiphopstar @cokewithcameron @cameronsbabydoll @chillgal135 @ayy1234567 @pogueprincesa @isinpfortvdmen @iheartrosalia @luvrclub @yesshewrites1 @sideboobrry11 @espressh0e @mysticbby2009 @arianagreenblattfanxx10 @hwaaholic @aves05 @thecolorpearl05 @dreamybabbyy @wintercrows @lesbiana2 @chillgal135 @verycherryblossomhideout @daddyrafeslittleslut @pillowprincess4him @xoxobellamy @dylsdaily @at-todds-heart @nonbeliever1 @rafes-honey @lilithblackkk @isktfguhn @rafecamssfavgirl @mirellef2001 @jennieonline @coriiiiiiioiii@scne-vampire

[mwahgo]

Hi!! sorry if english bad, but I want to say I love your work! I would like to request Traflagar Law x Reader, Law is reader's professor (maybe we're med student?) and Law has a crush on reader but knows it might be wrong. But then reader asks how to get extra credit because her grades dropping. So Law makes her earn extra credit by fucking her after class

Feel free to ignore if this make you uncomfortable!

TEACHER'S PET

— Professor!Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader (One Piece)

[+18 MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+]

: ̗̀➛ Summary: His favorite student is falling his class, now she begs him to get extra credits.

: ̗̀➛ Word Count: 2.3k words

: ̗̀➛ Content Tags: Porn with little plot, student/teacher relationship, reader is of age here, sexual fantasy, P in V, unprotected sex, sex with consent, blowjob, cunnilingus, dirty talk

Mwahgo's Notes: I love this request! Thank you so much!💕

The atmosphere inside the classroom feels lively as the chattering of the students echoed inside. They talked about different stuff, school, grades, hangouts and other stuff but one main topic was passed around the group of students.

“Have you heard? We have a new biology teacher!”

“Really?! Man.. I hope they’re good at teaching,”

“Oh my god, I’ve heard from the other students that he’s really hot!”

“What?! Oh my god, I have to get myself ready for him. Hope he gives me extra grades for being pretty,”

The students giggled amongst themselves, gossiping about the new professor that will be having his first class with them. You, on the other hand, is busy with writing your essay that is due today. You fell asleep for the whole day yesterday that you completely forgot to do your work, so you quickly rush to class and finish it there.

“I’m kinda excited to meet the new professor,” Your friend babbled beside you.

“Don’t talk to me right now, I’m working,” You retorted, focusing on your essay.

Your friend rolled your eyes, “Boo! That’s what happens when you fell asleep and play video games all day,” They teased.

You rolled your eyes with the truth as you continue answering your essay, “You think he’s actually hot?” Your friend asks again.

You shrugged, “I don’t know, but I don’t mind a hot professor,” You mumbled as your friend gasped in shock.

“Yo! Are you saying that you’re willing to date one?” They asked as you gave them a look.

Before you get to answer, the door opened and the chatting toned down as a new professor entered the room. Messy, black hair, side burns and has a goatee as his piercing, tired eyes glanced around the classroom as he placed his stuff on the desk.

“Good morning class, I’m your new professor, Trafalgar Law..” His deep voice echoed in the classroom.

Your eyes travelled down to his arms and notices he has a lot of tattooes, which made you doubtful about his skills. As he continue to spoke, your friend slowly turned to you and just mumbled, “Damn… He is hot,”

You gave her a side eye before the professor noticed both of you, “Excuse me? Care to share that to the class?” He sternly questioned.

Your friend jumped away from you as you try to hide in shame, “N-No, sir..” You apologized.

His eyes glanced at you, up and down before going back to talking to the class. You noticed the longing gaze, which made you confused as your friend nudged you softly. You looked at them and they just gave a knowing look before listening back to the professor.

“Alright before you all go, submit your essays,” Professor Law announced, “After you submit, you can go,” He added.

You sighed heavily as you continue to scribbled on your essay. You were so focused on listening to his discussion that you weren’t able to finish your essay. Student started standing up and giving their papers to the professor as you sweat nervously, already regretting your procrastination last night.

“I-I can wait for you, so that we can submit together,” You friend suggested.

You shook your head, “No.. It’s fine, you can go and give yours,” You forced as smile before going back to writing.

They just sighed in disappointment as they stood up and gave their paper. They packed their bag and left the classroom��leaving you the only student in class. Law watched you carefully as you continue to write down words on your essay before sighing. He stood up and approached your seat as your breath hitched in anxiety.

“Why are still doing yours?” He asked, no sternness nor softness.

You bit your lip, nervously, “I-I… fell asleep yesterday and.. forgot about it,” You gave a half lie.

Law just sighed before taking his seat and the essays, “I’ll stay here beside you, so you can give yours when you’re done,” He said as he started reading through the essays.

You eyes widened at his actions but decided to not speak out about it as you continue to write. But you were naive, Law wasn’t sitting next to you to give company, but simply because he wants to admire you up close.

He knew it was wrong, pursuing a student while being the professor of your class. But he couldn’t help but admire your soft cheeks as they blush, your eyes looking up to him, it gives him the idea on what you look like sucking on his cock. How you elegantly crossing your legs, showing your smooth skin, making him hard. He wants to feel you, to hold you and keep to himself. He wonders how your moans sounds like as he pounds your pussy.

Law knew it was wrong, but damn, he’s willing to take the risk.

The lingering feeling continues on, from Law giving you some subtle touches as he walks around, the small glances during discussion to assisting you in your work—as long as he can be next to you.

He knew he had to stop the feelings. He tried going to nightclubs and going on blind dates to divert his attention, but he knew that once he goes back to teaching, you will be back in his mind.

Every time you look at him with those eager eyes as you placed your cheek on your palm—trying to stay focus on his lesson, it made him nervous. Every time he walks around while discussion, he sees you with your hair up, exposing you neck. It made him want to take you there.

Your little outfits was the worse. Your skirts being too short and your top is getting a little too distracting for him. It made his cock stir in his pants as he tries his best not to stare at your cleavage while discussing.

Currently, Law announced the dismissal as his class started packing their stuff while talking about their after class activities. But he noticed you weren’t packing yours as he watched you wave goodbye to your friend as they left the room. There was an unusual silence as Law waited for you to do something, but you sat on your chair—fidgeting with your fingers.

“Do you need to do some work, miss (Y/N)?” Law asked.

You flinched on your seat before stumbling your words, “Uhm.. N-No, not really..” You trailed off, “.. C-Can I ask something, sir?”

Law crossed his arms, “Go ahead,”

You bit your lip, nervously, “Uhm.. I’m like, wondering how my grades are doing..”

Law raised his eyebrow as he opened his laptop and checked your grades. You fidgeted nervously as he sighed, “I’m sorry, miss (Y/N) but you’ve been failing my class lately,” He frowned.

You looked down in shame, you were aware that you haven’t been doing good in his class but you wanted to ignore the fact. Now, he’s telling it to your face that you are indeed failing.

You sat there in silence, sinking in the information as Law sighed. He stood up from the teacher’s desk and approached your seat. He placed a sincere hand on your desk as he frowned down on you, “What’s going on, miss (Y/N)? Is my teaching been unaffected to you?” He scolded.

You grimaced at his tone, “N-Not at all, sir. It’s just that…” You sighed, “I’ve been having a hard time understanding things and I can’t really focus on your class,” You explained.

“You can always just come to me after class of you’re confused,” Law insisted.

You fidgeted on your seat, “I know, b-but I just feel bad that you might think that you aren’t a good teacher,” Law’s heart almost swelled at your consideration, “But I need extra credits, sir. So that I can pass this subject. If anything, I’ll take it,” You pleaded.

Law’s eyes widened at your cries. This was every inch of his fantasy—watching you desperately plead him to give you extra credits to pass his class. His fist clenched, holding back his sexual urges but it’s just one time, right? He tried to convince himself. He just talk you into it and would also give you those extra credits.

But he knew it was wrong, thinking about fucking his student in his classroom. It was already wrong when he had wet dreams about you as he fucks his cock in his fist at night. It was wrong when he always stay at your side when he’s teaching—stealing small glances at your figure. Pursuing his student was wrong, but Law knew he couldn’t help it.

He sighed heavily, already making up his decision, “You would do.. anything?” He asked.

You nodded, frantically as he went silent before pulling you to a searing kiss. Your yelps were muffled as your eyes widened. processing the event that is happening. You didn’t pull away as you kissed back, your lips clashing together as he pulled you up on your seat while you wrapped your arms around his neck.

Law pulled away, panting, “Are you sure about this?” He asked.

You giggled, “You were the one who started kissing me,” You teased, “But yes, I want you, sir,” You bit your lip.

His cock harden in his pants, “Fuck.. That’s what I wanted to hear,” He mumbled before he carried you to his desk, “I’ll give you those extra points.. after I fuck you,” He smirked.

As he stripped off his clothes, you removed your clothes along with your undergarments as his mouth agape on how wet your pussy now. As he was finally naked, you slid off the desk and on to your knees as you faced his hard cock. His cock twitched at your hot breath fanning on it as he looked down at you. You smirked as your tongue lolled out to lick the tip of his cock as he twitched at the sensation.

You continue to lick around his to before slipping his whole shaft inside your mouth as Law groaned in pleasure. His hand grabbed your hair as he pushed his hips into your mouth, making you gag as the tip of his cock hits your throat.

“Fuck.. Sorry baby, your mouth just f-feels so.. good,” He grunted.

His hips thrusted against your mouth, his pelvic touching your lips as you suck on his thick cock. His groans echoed inside the classroom as his cheeks blushed from the intense pleasure. You looked up to him with small tears in your eyes as his breath hitched as he continue thrusting in your mouth. His pace made you grabbed onto his thighs as you moaned around his cock.

“F-Fuck, your mouth is so good, baby. S-Sucking on my cock like that..” He whimpered as he felt a coil in his stomach, “God-damnit.. I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna c-cum in your mouth..” Law groaned.

His thrusts quickens as you hummed around his cock, making him groan loudly as he shoots his cum down your throat. His hips stuttered as his hand gripped your head, not letting your mouth escape his cock as you swallow down his cum. As you pulled away, Law was panting heavily—sweat dripping down his forehead as he smirked down at you.

He flipped your skirt up, yanked your panties down, and pulled you up so you could bend over his desk. With a loud moan, you felt his lips around your sore clit and sucking on your wet folds, causing you to gasp in shock. Humming over your clit while you whimpered, he held onto your soft thighs and feasted on your warm pussy.

“F-Fuck, sir.. I feel like I’m cumming!” You moaned.

As soon as Law heard that, he pulled away from your pussy, making your whine from the lost of pleasure. Suddenly, you gasped sharply as you felt the tip of his cock entering you, “I’ll give you something to cum around,” He growled in your ear as he set a hard pace.

You screamed in pleasure as the desk rocked beneath you. Law was in paradise, his cock fucking his favorite student’s pussy as your moans muffled by the desk, scared that people might hear the debauchery happening inside the classroom. Skin slapping echoed inside the classroom as Law grunted in your ear, “You feel my cock there? Fucking your.. d-desperate pussy..?”

You only nodded in reply, too deep into the pleasure. With the lack of reply, Law growled as his hand gripped your hair, pulling your head up as he slowed down his thrusts, making you whine, “I asked you a question, girl. Do you feel my cock fucking you?” He emphasized every word with a hard thrust.

“Yes, sir! Please! Fuck me harder!” You moaned loudly.

His lips turned into a smirk as his quick pace came back, making you whimpered, “Fuck, y-your pussy feels so good.. I’ve been wanting to have this,” He groaned

“O-Oh, s-sir… I’m gonna c-cum!” You moaned loudly.

His hips thrusted quickly on your pussy as you felt the coil in your stomach exploded as you came around his cock. Law grunted loudly as he spills his cum inside you. Panting heavily, he laid his sweaty body on top of yours as you laid tiredly on the desk.

Law leaned down on littered tired kisses on your temple as he intertwined your hands together, “Congrats, miss (Y/N), you get your extra credit,” He chuckled deeply, finally achieving his sexual fantasy.

[sizzlingcloudmentality]

boys like you

Frankie Morales x Benny Miller | wc ~1.3k | explicit, mdni | ao3

summary: a movie night gets steamy, Stallone means making out, basically no plot

warnings: mlm, homophobes might feel a slight tingle in their panties, established relationship, dry humping, finger sucking, cumshot, oral, petnames (baby, pretty boy), a dash of dirty talk and praise, Spanish (guapo=handsome, mírame=look at me)

a/n: my follower milestone drabble for @qunariagenda, thank you so much for asking for some FishBen!! I chose the movie nights prompt (but the guys are pretty good with their hands, so I'm giving myself a half point for that). I hope you like it! and special thanks, as always, to @guiltyasdave for the beta and hype 💛

songspiration: boys like you - tanerélle (i LOVE her, check her out)

With Benny it has always been about his hands and fingers. Plucking the strings of his guitar, at night when they were deployed in some sandy hole or wet ditch. Punching some opponent straight in the face during a fight. Holding a gun. Pulling a trigger. Fighting for his life with his hands trying to crush a windpipe of someone who's been declared as their enemy. Cutting up herbs and meat for a legendary BBQ. Pulling women onto the dancefloor and feeling them up with a boyish grin that lets him get away with almost anything. Pulling Frankie in for a kiss, fingers splayed on his nape.

Like right now.

Both of them haven’t paid much attention to the movie they wanted to watch. Something with Sylvester Stallone, which always means making out. Because they know all of Stallone’s movies, like the back of their–

“–hand,” Benny mutters, not even completely breaking away from the kiss. “Give me your hand.”

Something about this big guy and his low voice make Frankie cave, always. Especially when Benny sounds so sweet, needy, already sucking Frankie’s bottom lip between his teeth and tugging on it. Like he can’t get enough. Maybe he really can’t get enough.

Frankie holds out his hand, the one he reluctantly pulled away from Benny’s hair, and a dazed smile spreads on his face when Benny rubs his cheek into his palm.

The smile turns into a bitten lip when Benny starts guiding their intertwined hands down, along his neck and the rumpled tshirt, slow, so damn slow over his stomach, flexing his muscles because he knows it makes Frankie twitch in his shorts, and then down the front his sweats. 

Rubbing. Pressing, making Frankie’s fingers wrap around the thick outline of his hard cock.

“You feel this? Feel how hard I am for you?”

Benny tightens his grip around himself and Frankie's hand, tentatively palming himself, groaning when he gets back on top of Frankie. Slotting so perfectly between the thighs of the older man and trapping his hand between their bodies, between their straining cocks.

“Say it, Morales,” Benny murmurs, his voice honeyed and scraping before he gently nips on Frankie’s earlobe.

“Dios, I feel it.”

He gasps, the air knocked out of his lungs when Benny cages him in between his arms and starts grinding against him, against his hand, against his own hard-on. Frankie can’t move his hand, all he can do is feel how Benny rolls his hips back and forth, pushing the whole length of his clothed cock over Frankie’s palm and further until he feels Frankie’s finger curl over his balls.

Benny grunts with his face hidden in the crook of the other man's neck, then pulls his hips back and slowly pushes forward again. The same pace Frankie likes to set to feel Benny writhe and plead. Faster, oh god, baby, please, just a lil’ faster. He never goes faster. Nice and slow ‘till the end.

Frankie knows that there will be no faster for him tonight. It’s just this. Torturously slow. High friction. Back. And forth. Back again. Until one of them starts cussing and begging. 

He gives in. Pinned down under Benny’s body he surrenders. Next time it will be his turn again. 

“Guapo,” Frankie moans softly, answering Benny’s movements with his own, canting to feel more. “So pretty for me.”

Benny chuckles, breathlessly, burrowing his flushing cheeks deeper into Frankie’s shoulder. Perhaps there’s a stutter in the ebb and flood, his back and forth. 

Back and forth.

“Mírame.” An order, a loving one. Frankie’s free hand tugs on Benny’s hair until their eyes meet. Blue framed with strawberry blonde, flecks of gold littered over his skin, all over his body; Frankie knows this, familiar with every freckle his love has.

“Pretty boy,” he says, tongue and lids heavy, weighted down by the heat and longing between them.

Benny’s hips stutter again, every praise making him lose his rhythm. Flustered that Frankie can still make him blush like he makes the girls blush.

“Stop it,” he mutters but soon is silenced by Frankie thumbing his bottom lip. Hips snap forward, eyes widen, Frankie’s thumb pushes between Benny’s lips.

The muffled moan resembles the one that fills their four walls whenever Benny is nestled between Frankie’s legs to make them both forget about their day. Lips puckered, tongue lapping, hollowed cheeks. The same praise.

“So good for me. Just like that, baby…”

Frankie sets the pace now, pushing his finger deeper into Benny’s hot mouth and pulling back out. Benny’s movements mirror Frankie's, the back and forth, faster now because he can’t tell his needs apart. His mouth is needy, his cock is, too. Both messy, both leaking.

Frankie knows the look on Benny’s face, he’s gone, chasing release, grinding himself against the heel of Frankie’s palm, moaning around his finger, drunk on the man beneath him.

“Gonna come for me?” Frankie purrs, just as close but not ready yet. “Gonna let me feel how desperate you are, hm?”

Benny whines, spit sticking to his beard when Frankie replaces his thumb with his index and middle finger instead. Nodding his head and ignoring the tingle in the back of his throat when he sucks the fingers deeper into his mouth.

“Already making a mess for me…” Frankie tuts, relishing in Benny’s rutting growing sloppy. It’s not even back and forth anymore, just desperately canting into Frankie’s hand, now that he found the exact spot that will send him over the edge.

“That's it. That's my pretty boy. Show me, I wanna see you.”

He hooks his thumb behind the waistband of Benny’s sweats and with the next movement they are getting tugged down enough for him to understand. Frankie’s fingers slip from his mouth when Benny sits back on his heels, pushing his sweats and boxers down just enough.

It doesn't take much for Benny. Just a few hasty and hard strokes and the sight of Frankie licking his lips and pulling his shirt up to bare his stomach, and he is spilling all over his fist and Frankie’s exposed skin. 

His whole body jerks when he pulls his hand away, a shaky laugh escaping him when he hears Frankie mutter a gorgeous.

“You always get me with those damn praises,” Benny huffs softly and unceremoniously pulls down the other man’s shorts. 

Frankie's cock springs free, leaking, sensitive from the grinding and humping, his balls, heavy and full, already tight and tucked high. With that boyish smirk of his, Benny slots between Frankie’s thighs again.

The flat of his tongue moves up, from Frankie’s balls over his cock and through the sticky happy trail, relishing the moans and the hand in his hair and the taste of his cum mixing with Frankie’s. Benny grins, like a cat that got cream, and licks up his own spent before he finally, fucking finally, wraps his lips around Frankie’s sensitive tip.

The fingers in his hair tighten when Benny starts bobbing his head and hollows his cheeks again. And before Frankie can start uttering out his praise, Benny reaches up and offers his still sticky fingers to him.

Two, then three fingers get sucked into Frankie’s mouth with a low moan. Hips snapping in the same rhythm as the fingers get pushed between his lips. A steady back and forth.

It has always been about Benny's hands and fingers. Plucking on Frankie’s heartstrings or the drawstrings of his shorts, curling around his cock, carding through his hair at night.

Or holding hands while he makes Frankie come in his mouth. Cupping the man’s jaw with licked clean fingers. Caressing his cheek when he pushes himself up so they can share a kiss and their flavors.

“That was nice,” Benny whispers, sucking the last bit of salty taste from Frankie’s lips.

“Yeah, it was.” Frankie smirks, wiping the corner of Benny’s mouth with his fingertip. “Should we start the movie over?”

every time someone likes queer content a homophob gets horny in public. help them out, support queer artists!

also: let me know how I did with my first ever attempt at FishBen, preferably with words, thanks! 🫶✌️

follower milestone drabble masterlist here

general masterlist here

dividers: @saradika-graphics

[lillaydee]

I'm Right Here Part 10

BFF!Joel Miller / F Reader

Sometimes the person we've been looking for has been right there all along.

@copperhalfcent, @demonsasss, @bergamote-catsandbooks, @peelieblue @liciafonseca @ultra-nina-bella @joelmillerpascal @kirsteng42 @heartpatch @capnjaket

Let me know if you want to be tagged or removed from the tag list

WARNINGS: BFF Joel Miller, Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Angst, Love Triangles, Miscommunication, Past Child Abuse, Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Joel is a Clueless Idiot, Jealousy, Minor Character Death, Implied/Referenced/Supposed Sexual Assault, SEXUAL ASSAULT, SELF HARM, Joel has PTSD

SERIES MASTER LIST

Part 9

Joel pushed the door to your room softly, playfully saying ‘knock-knock’ when he saw his wife look up from her phone. He walked over to her, greeting her with a peck on the cheek, asking her how you were doing.

“Still asleep. She did wake up in recovery, apparently, but fell asleep again. They told me to call someone when she does. She might be in a bit of pain for a while, they said. But she should be okay.”

Joel placed the paper bag he was carrying on the table next to the couch, taking the ice pack he had brought with him out. He went over to the minibar and placed it in the little freezer.

“For her shoulder when she wakes up. She needs to ice it,” he told Annie.

“You know a lot about shoulder injuries,” she teased.

“Been around long enough to see it happen. Eddie used to keep one in the freezer just for her, even when she hadn’t been back in years. Had to throw one away from freezer burn once.”

Annie gave a refrained laugh, worried that she might wake you. She got up from her seat next to your bed and joined him on the couch. He got the sandwich he had brought for her out of the bag and passed it to her.

“So,” she began, taking a bite out of the sandwich, “This is the infamous Daze.”

Joel nodded slowly, his lips pursed into a pout. You hadn’t changed much, he thought. Your hair was different, but other than that, you were basically the same person he saw at the airport all those years ago.

“She’s much prettier up front. Taller than I thought she would be.”

Joel nodded again, a bit lost for words, not really knowing how to answer.

“You know,” Annie continued, “I’ve always been a bit jealous of her. Everyone loves her, she sounded perfect. Made me feel inadequate, to be honest, but that was okay since she wasn’t around. Well, she is now, and the first time I met her, she was in the ER, injured from saving my daughter’s life. As far as I’m concerned she’s literally an angel. I might hate her now,” she quipped, smiling at Joel.

He turned to meet her eyes, his face riddled with guilt.

“Annie…”

She patted his knee, shaking her head, telling him “I’m just kidding,” she assured him. “She seems lovely. And she’s here. She’s back.”

“Annie…”

Their conversation was interrupted by a quiet moan from you. Annie quickly passed the sandwich back to Joel, going over to you. You were groggy to say the least. Annie pushed the call button, gently placing her hand on your shoulder when you tried to get up.

“No Daze, you should lie back down. Your shoulder, honey. Stitches.”

You sort of froze for a bit, looking around the room, confused as fuck.

“You were in an accident, remember? You just had surgery. You are in the hospital,” she gently told you, her hand still on your good shoulder, trying to prevent you from getting up again.

Recognition and recall came to your eyes, and you slumped back into the pillow, your body relaxing. A nurse came in, checking your vitals. A doctor came in after, asking you some questions, smiling at your loopy answers.

“How’s your pain Miss Stevens?” he asked.

“Oh, my pain is amazing. Fire.”

He gave you a small laugh, telling the nurse to administer some pain meds to manage your pain. He turned to Annie and Joel, reminding them to keep your shoulder rested on the pillow for a while longer before leaving.

Annie quickly went to your bad shoulder as soon as they left, making sure the pillow propped behind you was fluffed up and comfy for you. When she tried to give you some water, you shrunk back as if she had just materialized out of thin air in front of you. You stopped when she held the straw to your lips, opening your mouth just enough for her to insert the straw in, taking sips of water, all the while eyeing her. You stopped taking sips at one point, but bit into the straw when she tried to pull the cup away from you. You continued drinking after a few beats, eyes unblinking, just staring at her, memory searching for recognition. You finally stopped drinking when the glass emptied. Annie filled it up and offered it back to you. This time, you looked at the cup warily before looking at her, suspicion in your eyes.

“Who are you? Why are you making me drink? Are you trying to poison me?”

She laughed. “You just drank a whole cup, and now you are asking if I’m trying to poison you?”

“I did?”

“Yeah, honey, you did.”

“Why are you calling me honey? Do I know you?”

“Hmm… technically no, but we’ve met. I’m Annie, remember? Sarah’s Mom? Joel’s wife?”

Your eyebrows scrunched. “Joel?”

“Yeah, Joel. Your childhood friend?”

Your bottom lip jutted out and you shrugged, before hissing in pain.

“No, honey, don’t move your shoulder yet,” Annie cooed, fixing your pillow again.

Joel sat up upon hearing your painful gasp. You turned your head towards him, as if only clocking his presence just then. Your eyes met his. He froze.

“Hey,” you whispered too Annie, far too loudly, tilting your head her way, eyes still on Joel, making Annie choke down a laugh. “Can you see him?” you asked, surreptitiously pointing at him with your head.

Annie played along, discreetly glancing at Joel from her seat before nodding at you.

“Who’s that?” you asked, looking conspiratorial, as if he wouldn’t be able to hear you. “He looks familiar.”

“Yeah?” she asked, “Where do you think you know him from?”

You appeared to be thinking hard, seemingly failing at any form of recollection. The nurse from before came back in, a syringe in her hand, emptying it into your cannula.

Your body relaxed immediately, but you were fighting to stay awake, eyes still on Joel.

“He looks like that guy…” you managed to mumble.

“What guy?”

“The guy who liked me and then didn’t. He was mean to me. He hurt me with his words.”

Annie’s heart sank. She turned to look at her husband, whose face was now the definition of heartbreak.

“Maybe he will make up for his words now,” she coaxed, taking your hand in hers, squeezing it a little. You squeezed back.

You blinked at her, slow, deliberate, drugged. Your next words came out slurred, drawn out.

“Nah. He’ll yell at me again. And then he’ll leave. Or he’ll make me leave.”

“Maybe he’s changed. Maybe he’ll come after you this time,” she tried again, her heart clenching at how heartbroken you seemed, despite your high.

You took a slow, deep, dragging breath. “No he won’t. He never did. I waited. He didn’t come after me. He never will.”

Annie was still struggling with what to say next when your eyes closed, your breathing relaxed, your grasp on her hand softened.

By the time Annie turned to look at Joel, he was gone, the door slowly closing behind him.

You woke up the next morning to whispering people. Olivia silently shrieked when she saw you were awake, coming over to give you a light hug. Eric and Benny kissed you on the forehead, all three somehow finding a place to sit on one side of your bed without overwhelming you. Will walked in a bit later with breakfast for everyone. Aunt Tina, Anita and Jake arrived just as your breakfast was brought to you. Breakfast was a merry event, so much laughter and joy shared, the nurse had to pop her head in a few times to get everyone to be a bit quiet. It was the hospital after all.

“Sorry we couldn’t visit yesterday babe,” Eric said. “But Annie said you were asleep anyway, and we thought we should let you rest.”

“I did drop by with Annie at first, but I had to go back to work. By the time I got off Annie said you were down for the day, they gave you something for the pain,” Olivia added.

“It’s okay guys. I’m fine. The nurses’ station is right outside my door.”

“Annie kept us updated though. Apparently you woke up for a few minutes but went back to sleep.”

“So… Annie was here?” you asked.

Everyone looked at each other awkwardly. “Uh… yeah,” Will said, “Are you okay with that? She was the only one available.”

“No, of course it’s okay.”

“Honey, we wanted to tell you about her and Sarah. But…” Anita began.

“No, it’s okay, I never wanted to know.”

The room was quiet again. You ate your pancake, quite aware of the eyes that were boring on you.

“You can ask, babe, we’ll answer,” Eric finally said.

“Sarah…”

“She’s Joel and Annie’s, not Jen’s,” Aunt Tina quickly answered.

You nodded. You didn’t quite know how to respond to that.

“What happened to Jen’s baby?”

“I think we should let Joel answer that, sweetie,” Anita said. “It’s better that way.”

You nodded, biting into another piece of pancake.

Anita got up from her seat and sat next to you on the bed. She placed her hand on your knee.

“Sweetie, are you okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“She’s a wonderful woman, Daisy, she helped him out a lot. She’s the reason he hasn’t gone off the rails,” Anita continued.

You nodded, swallowing your pancake with an audible gulp. “I’m sure she is. She seems nice. And Sarah seems like a wonderful girl.”

“She’s the light of our lives,” Anita told you, smiling, patting your knee once more before getting up and going back to her seat.

The door opened again, and Annie and Sarah popped their heads in. The silence roared back into a buzz of activities.

Annie came to your bedside, asking you if you remember who she was.

“Annie, right? Joel’s wife?” you asked, trying to keep the bitter bile you were tasting as you said those words from surfacing.

“Yeah, that’s me,” she said, “I take it the drugs have gone out of your system now?” she asked, smiling cheekily at you.

Your eyes widened. “Why? What happened? Oh God did I make an absolute fool of myself? Shoot, tell me you don’t have me on your phone saying stupid things,” you begged.

She laughed, patting her purse, “Oh, I just might. I’m gonna save it for when I really need a big favour from you though.”

You smiled. Great. She’s funny. And friendly. And pretty. And sweet. And married to Joel. And the family loved her. And she gave them all Sarah. Wonderful.

Just excellent.

“Listen,” she said, sitting down next to your bed. “I just wanted to thank you again, for saving Sarah. That girl is my life, Joel’s life. I don’t know how we could’ve survived if you didn’t…” she had to stop talking, choking a little, trying to hold back tears. “So… thank you. As far as I’m concerned, you are my hero, I owe you a life, and if you ever need anything… just ask.”

You just smiled. You didn’t know what to say, so you patted her hand awkwardly with your good hand reaching across your body.

“Auntie Daze?” a sweet voice called out to you. Your turned around to see Sarah standing on the other side of your bed, a cuddly-looking stuffed lamb in her hand. “I got this for you. It doesn’t make up for anything, but I want to say thank you again for saving me.”

“Oh,” you took it from her hand, “It’s lovely Sarah. Thank you. And please stop thanking me. I did what anyone would’ve done. I’m glad you’re okay. How’s your wrist?”

She lifted her wrapped hand slightly, telling you it hurt just a little bit, but she’ll live, thanks to you.

The door opened again, and Joel came in. The room went deadly quiet. Joel shuffled on his feet awkwardly for a few seconds before relaxing when Annie got up to take the paper bags full of breakfast he was holding off his hands, calling for Sarah to come have her breakfast.

“Can I have the last doughnut?” Benny piped up, making everyone roll their eyes. “Sorry,” Benny whispered to Eric. “The silence was awkward as fuck, okay?”

You busied yourself looking at the stuffed lamb Sarah brought you, smiling a little when you saw that it had a ribbon around it’s neck, ‘Eddie’ written in Sharpie on it.

Your stomach rumbled. Benny stopped bringing the last doughnut to his mouth, looking at you with his mouth open. “Fuck Daze, was that your stomach?”

You covered your face with your good hand, “Sorry! I hadn’t eaten anything since lunch yesterday! I guess I’m still a bit hungry,” you sheepishly said.

Benny looked at the doughnut in his hand, “You want the doughnut? I’ll go get you something from the café,” he offered.

Joel got up, taking one of the bags he brought with him to your bed. He placed a breakfast burrito and an orange juice on your tray, crumpling the bag.

“No, you have it, I’m okay. I can ask for more food,” you said, not looking at him.

“Eat, Daze. I got it for you,” he picked up the burrito and unwrapped it, handing it to you. He unscrewed the orange juice bottle and placed it back on your tray before going back to eat his breakfast with his family, Annie smiling warmly at you as her husband took his place next to her.

You placed the burrito back on the tray, biting your lips, trying hard not to let anyone see them tremble. You laughed at some joke Jake made, quipping something back just to stop yourself from tearing up. For some reason, you couldn’t eat his offering. You couldn’t look at the burrito, you couldn’t look at him. But you could feel his eyes on you.

Benny sat next to you and began feeding you the doughnut bit by bit, making dumb jokes until you laughed.

You loved seeing them all again. It felt right. You’ve missed this, spending time with all of them. They were the closest thing you had to a family. And you couldn’t blame them for not telling you about Annie and Sarah. You deliberately changed the subject every time they tried. You didn’t want to know. You were trying to move on. Hard. It’s been 15 years, and you really thought you had succeeded. But seeing him again, happily married to an obviously nice and beloved woman, one who was responsible for pulling him back from the abyss he was facing then at that, it hit you like a fucking brick in the face.

You left. You had to keep reminding yourself that. You left. You deliberately asked for an overseas assignment so that you could get away from him. You wanted to move on, make a life for yourself, one where no one was accusing you of possibly assaulting them and leaving you alone after begging you to stay. You were lost yourself, losing Eddie literally meant you were all alone. You remembered thinking to yourself – you were alone, might as well be alone. Really alone.

And now, what was it that you have, really? A great job, a great condo, great friends, and quite a few broken hearts. And the man who drove you to dump everything and leave? He’s married. Happy. With his Annie. And his Sarah.

It’s okay, you coaxed yourself. It’s only a few weeks. You’ll go back home soon. And once you got out of here, you’ll be busy sorting your aunt’s house, so that’ll take your mind off the Joel and the Annie and the Sarah. And then you could leave and go back to your lonesome life. It’s sad, to think of the loneliness that await, but at least you wouldn’t have to watch him play happy family with someone else.

It's stupid really. You chose to leave. You don’t get to boo-hoo that he moved on. Lay on the bed you made.

“Knock-knock!” a playful voice chirped as the door to your room opened. A huge bouquet of daisies made it’s way into your room, followed by Mike, looking slightly taken aback by the amount of people in the room.

“Mr Parks!” Sarah cheered. “Everyone, this is my art teacher, Mr. Parks. He brought me and Auntie Daze to the ER yesterday.”

Everyone got on their feet, except for Joel, Sarah and Annie – they’d met before. Anita and Aunt Tina gave him a hug, thanking him for taking you and their granddaughter to the ER. The poor man got overwhelmed, looking flustered at all the attention. He finally broke free from everyone, coming to your bedside, placing the huge bouquet of flowers by your bed.

“Sorry if it’s cheesy,” he said, scratching his head a little bit, “But your name is Daisy, and when I got to the florist all I could think of was to get you daisies. A bit of lazy thinking on my part.”

“It’s okay, I do love them, because of my name. So, hi Cheesy, I’m Cheesier.”

He laughed, sitting on the chair next to your bed. “How are you doing? They operated?”

You nodded.

“Does it still hurt? Do you need anything?”

“She needs ice packs for the swelling, Joel brought her one. It’s in the freezer,” Will quipped, going to the freezer to take it, handing it to Mike. “About 20 minutes every hour until the swelling is gone, or if it starts to hurt again,” he told him. He nodded.

It was then that you noticed how quiet the room had gotten. The whole room was just staring at you and Mike as he gently placed the ice pack on your shoulder, timing 20 minutes onto his phone.

“Well,” Eric said, picking up the bag that contained his and Benny’s breakfast, now filled with trash, “We should leave them to it. I’ll be back at dinnertime babe, you want anything?” he asked, breaking the others’ stupor. Everyone started cleaning up after themselves, getting ready to leave. Sarah came to hug you goodbye, waving goodbye to Mike, telling him she would see him Monday. She looked at you and Mike together for a while, a strange look on her face, before snapping out of it and leaving.

They all kissed you goodbye, save for Joel, Olivia telling you she would be back with extra lunch for you. Annie came to say goodbye, the same strange look on her face as she looked at you and Mike, before smiling sweetly at you and saying goodbye again. Joel stood by the door, the only one who did not come over to say goodbye to you. He stayed rooted where he was for a few seconds, looking at you and Mike, before nodding at you, giving you a sad smile, finally closing the door behind him as he left.

Mike stayed for quite a while, talking about nothing in particular. It was nice, talking to him. You asked him about his job, his family, and he in return asked about yours. It was just… easy. He even joked about your rumbling stomach, practically feeding you the burrito so you wouldn’t go hungry until noon. He bought you a selection of vending machine snacks, “Gotta make sure that tummy of yours stay full until your friend gets back here with lunch, I have a feeling you could get… uhm… challenging… if hangry,” he teased, placing the alarming assortment of chips and pretzels onto your lap, earning him a smack on the arm from you.

The two of you ended up hanging out, watching half a season of some National Geographic thing on TV together, his socked feet by your legs on your bed, half the snacks gone by the time you were done.

The door to your room opened, and Olivia walked in. She was failing miserably at hiding a smile off her face to see Mike still there, all comfortable next to you, feeding you pretzel sticks. “Oh, sorry!” she said, not looking sorry at all. She placed the bag of take out she had brought on the coffee table, “I’ll come back? Give you two some privacy?”

Mike looked at his watch, “Shit, is it noon already?” he flustered, looking embarrassed to have spent such a long time with you. “Sorry, I got carried away. You’re supposed to be resting,” he said, getting up.

“I don’t mind, you’re good company,” you quickly said, trying to sit up. He immediately helped you, propping the support pillow back in its place after plumping it a bit for you.

“Uhm, listen, do you mind if I come back tomorrow? We could watch the rest of that show?” he asked, his cheeks reddening a little.

For the first time in a long time, you could feel your face get hot. “Yeah, I’d really like that,” you nodded, giving him your phone for him to key in his number. He called his own phone from yours, asking if it’s okay to text you later today? You should be ashamed of how fast you said yes, your heart doubling in size at how happy he looked to hear your answer.

He put his jacket back on, “Well, ‘til then?” he asked. “Til then,” you nodded. He turned to look at Olivia, who suddenly seemed very interested at the painting of a cat on the wall behind the couch, before quickly bending down to give you a quick kiss on the cheek. He said goodbye to Olivia, who said goodbye back, an overly drawn and flirty one at that, complete with hair tossing and exaggerated head tilt.

You pretended to be studying the TV remote control when she turned to look back at you, her mouth hanging open in an excited smile. “Are you serious? He is so hot!”

“You’re married,” you reminded her, throwing an empty pack of pretzel sticks at her.

“You are not. Girl, get him!”

“I’m leaving in a few weeks.”

“So? Plans can change! Or, if not, at least you wouldn’t be lonely the next few weeks!”

You rolled your eyes as she plopped herself on the seat next to your bed, assuming Mike’s sitting position before interrogating you about the man for the next half an hour.

You fell asleep after Olivia left, waking up just as they sent you your evening tea. You went to the bathroom and took a long, wipe down shower, getting yourself as clean and fresh as you could after the whole travesty that was yesterday. Took you a while to clean your hair, chastising yourself for not thinking of it when Olivia was still around. After what felt like hours, you walked back into your room, feeling much more refreshed, albeit maybe regretting the hair wash as your shoulder was starting to hurt again. You got the ice pack out of the freezer, wanting to ice your shoulder again, when someone knocked on the door.

“Come in,” you called out distractedly, walking back to your bed. The door opened, a familiar looking lady standing just outside the door, hesitating to come in.

“Daisy,” she gently called out your name.

You turned around, your entire body going ice cold upon realizing who it was, and not from the ice pack.

“Jen.”

Part 11

[plasticfreckles]

🪶 post-coital proposal rookanis enjoy🪶

[Thursday Bangers Baby (Week 3)]

Rules for your Copy and Paste: Free form a blurb or drawing based on the weekly lyrics prompt. It doesn't have to include the prompt just whatever you're inspired to write, write it! Then tag some friends so they can play as well. It doesn't have to be finished on Thursday just post it whenever you can (you have a whole week between Thursdays).

I've loved you three summers now, honey, but I want 'em all - Lover by Taylor Swift

🪶

The air that escapes Rook with her giggles travels through the gaps in his beard like wind through trees. With both hands on his chest, she moves to sit across his lap again.

"Breakfast won't be ready for a while, still, you know."

"So?"

"So, if you're up for a rematch.."

"Rematch?"

"Your words. Sex is a teamsport, but we're also at war with each other."

"That was a joke! Also, two years ago." The side of her curled fist drums against his collarbone, jokingly. And within a breath, mirth makes way in her face for pensiveness.

"Has it been two years already?"

"A little more, I think." A month, three weeks and six days more.

Nine months, a week and three days longer, including the day she broke him out of the prison he was already working his way out of, him in a loincloth and a shredded shirt and her wet as a dog pulled from the canals.

Not that he'll ever tell her how closely he's keeping track.

NO. No secrets. No LIES. Rook is safe. We're safe with Rook. She's safe with US.

"I don't know what Spite said, but I'm sure he's right." I'm right A LOT. But you won't LISTEN.

One day, he'll ask her how she can tell that Spite's talking, even when he's doing little more than lounging beside them and mumbling into his beard.

He's not sure he'll like the answer. But he'll ask anyhow. Lap up whatever she tells him as though he found a drop of water after being stranded in the desert.

Her presence feels like settling down by a great roaring fire in warm timber halls, when one was stuck in a snowstorm just a moment ago.

Curious, how she's both.

She is. Relief. That's how she's both. Relief and home and soothe and comfort. I thought you said she isn't possessed. She isn't. No one dares. Both mine. Both yours. Both hers. Relief can be without them. Ah.

Lucanis bends a knee, and Rook easily slips into the gap between his thighs again.

"...I know how much longer than two years it's been, and he wants me to tell you."

Glowing purple fog streams out of his arm, solidifies into a hand and wraps itself around their linked fingers.

Rook hums.

Lucanis should've learned by now there's nothing he can say that will make her turn away from him, no matter how deranged it is. For better or for worse.

"It would make sense that you're aware. You're the reason we've all started journaling."

She doesn't need to say Lucanis doesn't need to reveal it to her. She knows he will when he thinks it fitting, or like it should be said. And he knows she'll give him the space he needs, the proximity he wants. They know without speaking it.

Like she was made for him. As though a spirit had walked through his escapist dreams and decided to give the freckled, curly ball of comfort a coporeal component for him to hold. I JUST SAID THEY WON'T DARE.

Maker help me, I'm in so deep, Lucanis thinks. His fingers trail along her spine and she sinks into his embrace again.

They meant to get up two hours ago. Maybe three, or four. He won't know for certain until the curtains are pulled away and he can count how many planks in the floorboard are illuminated by the sun.

She's warm and grounding atop him. So he, too, starts pondering.

He knows Ebris had knocked the door, asking if they would be joining for breakfast, a while ago. He knows Rook had pouted, a little, teasingly, slowed down as he bid her halt with both hands on her thighs, so he might have enough breath to reply through the door.

Three years, give or take. It feels like three months and three Ages all at the same time.

And it isn't enough.

He needs more.

He needs forever.

He needs to breathe the same air as her, to bathe in the same water as her, to burn in the same pyre she does.

Her chin pushes uncomfortably into his sternum, as she looks up at him from beneath his chin, sleepsand still in the corners of her eyes, stray glitter and kohl she missed with her washcloth last night sticking to her lashes.

YES. FOREVER. Can't eat her up AND have her. Need this. Every. Single. Day.

Lucanis doesn't let go of her hand as she starts to stand, to move away from him. Starts being the responsible one, collecting their clothes and opening curtains and doors to let in the new day's sun and air.

Rook shriek-laughs, because she's always brighter than the sun, as though Elgar'nan had infused his power over the celestial lights into her the second he'd abandoned his people for his hubris, and tumbles back onto him. Her elbow only narrowly misses his spleen.

"All right, fine. One more. But then we really need to get started."

Lucanis holds her forehead to his with his hand around her neck.

One more turns into two more, then five, then a bare leg moving to his other side and holding onto his chin and a huff escaping her throat, only to be trapped between their lips.

"Lucanis, what are you doing?"

"I'm not doing anything."

"Exept bruising my neck, you mean."

She leans into it, anyhow, fingers crawling to hold his head closer to her skin.

"Rook?"

"Hm?"

A sigh, a pat to his scalp. His hand slips from the other side of her neck to her shoulder.

"Marry me."

🪶

and thus they let the word "betrothal" slip over breakfast as Caterina chokes on her orange juice and Illario spits his across the table. Spite cackles so hard his breath snuffs out the candles.

@woundedsoul12 perceive

[~rina]

[forsaken-headcanons]

i know there’s like 300 asks in the inbox BUT PLEASSSEEE I NEED TO DUMP OUT MY BRAINN (why am i cooking NOW of all times-)

ok so. basically i’m just gonna lay out the order of events for forsaken. like the order of survivors and stuff (including unreleased)

so i’ll start with spectre stuff

First, the Spectre had to make the realm. The Forsaken realm is its pocket dimension adjacent to purgatory. (side note: the spectre is some sort of fallen angel i think bc of its relations with purgatory, anyways) The Spectre stores away all the survivors and killers and landscapes and stuff in the pocket dimension. It’s able to control everything in there because they own the place. Yknow.

Anyways, first victim of the Spectre? 1x. 1x had been sent back to the Banlands after Shed defeated them (at the cost of like 4 OUT OF 6 WINGS BTW-), so they had that malice that attracted the Spectre. The Spectre promised them power… the ability to be feared… basically everything that 1x wanted. So 1x gave in.

The Spectre then trained 1x to be a better swordfighter, which was why they lost to Shed in the first place. It was not only for 1x’s benefit but for the Spectre’s, as it could form a powerful weapon to use against the future survivors. (also playtesting)

When the Spectre was finished training 1x, it rewarded them: 1x got to choose who the first survivor would be. Of course, 1x chose Shedletsky. They had become far more powerful and wished to impose that upon him, the very person that created him. i love dysfunctional families

Shedletsky’s perspective? Well, he was pretty easy pickings for the Spectre because of his guilt about 1x (also he does kinda have grief since he lost the being he considers a son). He was heading to the Banlands to maybe see 1x again, even if it was risky. Meeting up with your making is always anxiety-inducing, especially if it’s evil and your embodiment of hatred, so he tried to calm down by shutting his eyes and taking a few deep breaths. But when he opened his eyes, he found himself in a cabin. The rest is history.

Other admins’ perspectives? Well, Builderman at first thought Shed had become an alt account (see telamon identity crisis hc), but he contacted them all and got no answer. Even after weeks, there was still no answer. So Builderman was the first to notice Shed’s disappearance. Dusekkar, Taph, and Stickmasterluke started to catch on as well. They all know he doesn’t just go silent like that. And Doombringer didn’t care. He was more sad about 1x’s disappearance. He’s wallowing in the Banlands with a grudge against the other admins, so why would he care that Shed’s gone, right?

— ink anon (i will make another part to this for the other survivors. uhm. the other admins might get their own section. hyperfixiations chat—)

DON'T APOLOGIZE FOR SENDING ASKS SHDJHDS WE'RE GUCCI W THEM ALL /GEN!!

ough worldbuilding.., yes. YESSS!! the thought of the spectre being a fallen angel is lwk strangely fitting.. yoinking that teehee. anyways 4 OUT OF 6 WINGS?? JFC SHED 💔💔 oh these dysfunctional lil shits... so hurtable... so so hurtable.... we say as we toss them both into a blender /silly

SHAKING THIS HC/AUTHING (< bad at telling) AND THROWING A CINDERBLOCK IN YOUR DIRECTION (doombringer being more uspet about 1x..? hmmmm is someone projecting their ships /j /j /j)

[6thscara]

i’m alive i swear!!!

Hanahaki Disease [oneshot— part one?]

✭ Scaramouche x Reader

ׂ╰┈➤ hanahki au / reader’s love is unrequited💔 / not many details for reader’s character / light angst / some lumine x scara / scaramouche is called Wanderer / no use of y/n

.ೃ࿐ synopsis ; you’re just another adventurer, she’s the traveler. of course it was dumb to be hopeful, but love turns you foolish. it’s a force with enough power to drive you to death

————————

bro i cannot finish writing this.. i’ve had it in my drafts for like a year but i don’t know where to go w it tbh.

in that year i’ve also been going through a lot… but i wanna write again!! and i wanna take requests :D

no beta im tired of this thing💔

2,277 words

————————

You expected this— knew fully well it would happen, and yet you pursued.

Between you and the blonde traveler, Lumine, of course he’d like her more. It wasn’t even a contest— she’s strong, clever, and beautiful.

On the other hand, you’re just you. Which isn’t a lot. Not enough for him. Yet, your wishful thinking kept you going.

It also brought you here once again— slumped over in a secluded field in the forest, choking out petals with various hues. Your eyes scrunch at the sight of the flowers you’ve been coughing out, your heart full of resent. You sigh, thinking about how pathetic you must look.

You’ve known the Wanderer for a while, though still not too long. You knew him enough to know that despite his cold demeanour, there was a soft side to him. Although you’ve seen part of it, its entirety was reserved for someone else.

That’s why you find yourself in such a pitiful state.

With one last look at the mess you’ve made, you stand up. Your wobbly knees almost knock you over before you can hold onto a nearby tree to catch your breath.

Your body was starting to grow weak. Day by day, it was getting harder to do commissions and your daily activities— which definitely did not go unnoticed by your peers.

“…What’s up with you?” A voice calls out behind you, accompanied by the sound of jingles. It was the Wanderer.

Your eyes widen, the surprise making you flinch before quickly composing yourself. You turn around to face him, feeling your heart already begin to beat faster when met with his presence. It hurt.

You see him cross his arms, looking at you with scrunched eyes.

“Oh,— nothing,” You quickly say, “I was… doing some commissions until I had to fight off some hilichurls.” You lie.

The Wanderer breathes out a small sigh, taking a moment to inspect your poise before uncrossing his arms and speaking, “Alright then. You just didn’t look so good,”

You nod, reasonably understanding why. “No need to worry.” You say brightly, giving him a smile.

Thankfully, the wind had already taken the flower petals away, otherwise the odd pile might have seemed weird.

“So, what are you doing here?” You curiously ask.

“Not much. The traveler requested to meet me.” He answers, eyes drifting off as a hint of bashfulness uncharacteristically cracks through his manner.

He clears his throat, eyebrows slightly furrowing. You cough a bit.

“I see,” you grin, though you feel unsteady at his answer. Just because of it, you can feel your stomach stir with uneasiness while your chest tightens.

“Well, enough of me taking up your time then! Go see her.” You laugh, patting his shoulder. He scoffs.

“Exactly what I was about to do. See you.” He says, turning around and walking off. His hat jingles, leaving a lingering trail of his showing. You call out a last “bye”, to which he doesn’t mind.

You stare at his back as he leaves— and you’re sure your gaze is full of desperate yearning.

That’s that, you try to tell yourself. But it just really hurts. Simple as that.

With one last heavy sigh, you place your hands on your hips, looking up at the clear sky.

It was probably better to go do something instead of mulling over it. Right— you had planned on going to the Akademiya to try and do some research about your condition. You didn’t want to go to a doctor, firstly because the sickness seemed acquainted with your feelings, and secondly because you didn’t want anyone else to potentially find out.

You start making your way towards Sumeru City, traversing through the land’s greenery while your mind stays busy thinking about Wanderer.

It’s been like that for quite some time— ever since you met him, he’s been lingering in your thoughts, and you’ve been trying to get closer to him. Though you did to an extent, you wanted more.

It felt as if a needle pricked your heart for every thought you had of him. Thinking about him with anyone else but you was dreadful. Your heart begged you to stop— to focus on what’s ahead.

Without even realizing it, you finally reached the city. Your attention was finally brought back to your surroundings once you heard the bustling vendors, lively restaurants, and scholars discussing academic matters.

The smell of food coming from nearby restaurants was tempting, but you figured it would be better to do research now and eat later.

You make your way over to the House of Daena, promptly beginning to browse the vast bookshelves. There were quite a few Amurta students gathered around the shelves you were looking through— reasonably, since the Darshan was tied to biology and medicine.

After some perusing, you ended up with about 3 stacked books next to you. A lot of the terms in these books confused you, but the indexes were very helpful while looking for this disease. Many books you went through didn’t even mention anything similar to your condition, which was frustrating.

But finally— you find it. Hanahaki Disease, the text read, seemingly originating from Inazuma. You read with great interest, carefully going over the contents.

There wasn’t as much information on hanahaki disease as there was on others, but with what you had to work with, it was sufficient.

It was a condition that slowly killed someone whose affection for another was not returned. Your eyes widened, your breath growing heavy. You were right— it was tied to these hopeless feelings.

Then… what were you supposed to do? Unrequited love couldn’t be fixed with medicine— not any surgery, or antidote could help. Love is controlled solely by the heart of the beholder.

You gather your initial thoughts before continuing.

Hanahaki Disease, a chronic condition caused by deep, pristine love which is not returned. These unreciprocated feelings are the root of blooming flowers in the bearer’s lungs, slowly killing them until it becomes too much for the body to handle.

You continue reading on, flipping the page curiously. You let out a relieved sigh once you see that the remaining information is about possible ways to make the condition go away.

The text read, “With today’s known information, two solutions are available; the safest option is allowing the patient to let go of their feelings before they are killed,”

Right, as if you could do that. Much easier said than done. But it’s not like the author would’ve known about your love’s severity.

Sighing, you continued, “whilst the other option includes a surgical procedure, in which the blooming Hanahaki flowers will be removed directly from the patient’s lungs.”

Your heart sank. “The surgical removal is a dangerous procedure that must be taken with caution. Following the removal, the victim will also lose their romantic love for the object of affection.”

Seriously— this was your other option? You can’t go through with that! You’d probably die anyway… there's no trustworthy surgeon you know who could do it privately for you. Especially considering the after effect, it just didn’t seem like a doable solution. Love is something you hold so closely. The concept that turns existence into life. But did that really mean that it’s something to die for?

Your emotions swelled, causing a fevered feeling in your stomach.

What would Wanderer do if you died?

You flinch as you ask yourself that repulsive question, immediately beginning to cough. Hastily, you bring an arm up to cover your mouth. Ragged breaths leave your mouth as you cough up a few petals, a bitter taste on your tongue despite its sweet appearance.

Although you were alone in a secluded space, you don’t want to disturb anybody else. Covering your mouth, you let out a few little coughs before regaining your composure and cleaning up the sickeningly beautiful flower petals.

Your fingers carefully turn the page, hoping for more information, but there was nothing. Unfortunately, it seems like the disease didn’t have as much research done.

With lots of heavy feelings on your shoulders, you close the book. An uneasy sensation swirled in your stomach knowing you had a big choice ahead of you— a choice of life or death.

As you put the book away, you realize you got a bit too busy with your findings to acknowledge your body’s needs. Your eyes are tired after being glued to the book for so long, and your stomach feels empty. It was time to get food.

It was as if an aura of misery surrounded you as you walked through Sumeru City. It was only evening, and the sky was painted with orange hues, but the feelings towering over you made the air around you feel gloomy.

And yet, you try to think positively. Wanderer and the traveller aren’t completely official… so you might still have a chance! If you could just be a bit more charming— do a bit more, maybe there was a small possibility that he could think of you more fondly?

…

You plague yourself with these unconvincing thoughts, squeezing out all the hope you have left.

After all, you only had two other options that wouldn’t even suffice.

A familiar scent grabs your attention as you’re walking— a delicious aroma surrounding you. Your eyes find the same restaurant you considered stopping at earlier, a reminder of your mission for food.

Languidly, your legs drag on as you enter.

“Hello, there! What’ll you be having today?” The tavern owner, Lambad exclaims. His voice is warm and friendly.

The environment helps you relax— the energy is cozy and comfortable, soothing as you think about what to get as you sit down. “Hmm…” Your eyes scan the menu, looking for something easy to eat while staying within your budget. “I’ll just have a shawarma wrap.”

With a nod, Lambad leaves to begin preparing your food. You relax into your chair, finally being able to decompress in the flavourful aromatic atmosphere. You’ve always enjoyed eating here, because not only did they serve amazing food, but the tavern itself was like a cozy, inviting home space.

However, it did feel a bit lonely. You notice these odd feelings of isolation once you listen in on others conversations— academics, gossip, small talk, the usual. Normally, you would also be here with at least one other friend, happily chatting it up. Occasionally, even with Wanderer. But right now, you were filled with bittersweet feelings of lonesome comfort. Bittersweet because he wasn’t here with you, and comfort because it’d also be painful to have him near.

Lost in your thoughts, you ease into your surroundings, until you hear a particular jingle in the air.

It’s an immediately recognizable sound which makes you sit upright. Turning your eyes to the restaurant’s entryway, you see just what you suspected. The perfect, breathtaking Wanderer, alongside an equally as desirable blonde traveler. He holds the door open for Lumine, trailing her as he walks in before taking her side.

It’s a small action, and yet it has an effect. Such simple mannerisms make you reflect– has he ever held a door open for you? Follow you like he follows her? No, it’s the little things that are different. Different because of his love for Lumine.

You’ve always been taking the lead, so he hasn’t had to go out of his way for you at all. In that way, he has been following you, but not like he follows her.

When the Wanderer accompanies you, he’s focused on anything else in front of him– the area’s surroundings, any enemies, or events. It’s not at all like the way his eyes follow Lumine’s presence. Or how he tries to hide his enamoured gaze. How he goes along with her no matter the occasion, compared to mostly hanging around you because he was asked to.

Such a simple sight was enough to make your stomach swirl. You quietly get up, forgetting about your food as a bad feeling of turmoil begins churning. The two don’t even notice as you scurry past them– too involved with each other to concern themselves with the busy atmosphere.

The late evening’s cold air hits your face as you hastily run out the door. It’s refreshing. It’s the perfect renewal of fresh air after feeling so suddenly alert. Another sigh leaves you feeling breathless as you begin walking through Sumeru City’s uncommonly calm streets.

Aside from the occasional hum of vendors or laughter from children staying out too late, you’re once again left with your thoughts. Love was consuming you badly, destroying you as it whirled around your insides– literally.

A nauseous feeling circulated from your head towards your stomach, making the environment spin.

Not wanting to make a displeasing scene in the middle of the city, you make your way out of civilization, retreating to the forest. As if your body had a cue, flowers began expelling out of your stomach through your mouth.

Everything feels dizzy— you can’t tell if that little squelching sound is you or the greenery you’re destroying as you grip the ground beneath for support.

It feels gross. A sharp taste burns on the back of your throat while bittersweet petals continue passing up.

The rush advances quickly, leaving you breathless and panting on the ground. You crouch over the ground, barely able to hold yourself up.

The exhaustion is too much, making you simply lay on your back, having only the day’s late stars to comfort you. A rustle of wind passes, which makes you feel a bit better. Still, the remaining unsatisfactory taste and burning in your throat doesn’t ease up much.

—————

i’m sorryuuyyyyy.,, i seriously don’t know where to go with this and i’m lwk tired of it cuz i wanna write some fluff :’D

so kind of an open ending but i’m also up to writing any suggestions!!

[an-au-blog]

a few days ago i saw a post about sanji cheating on gin with zoro, but I'll be completely honest, I don't think HE would be the one cheating. And this isn't even talking from my being a sanji enjoyer, I just think that if he's not 1000% invested in a relationship with a man, it would never get past a situationship. Not because of some moral high ground, he just doesn't care enough about it all. On the other hand GIN's the type of guy who's both deeply insecure and overly cocky if someone gives him an ounce of attention. (And I'm sorry to say this but,) usually it's the ugly ones that always think they can get away with cheating. (As Billie Eilish said: give an ugly guy a chance and he thinks he owns the world.)

So here's my spin on this love triangle:

Sanji had been courted for a while by Gin. He never saw him more than the occasional fling. But Gin seemed so enamored with Sanji, he was promising him the moon, he would worship him like it would be his last day on earth, he would show an overwhelming love that Sanji never thought he deserved. It made him feel good. And surely enough, after a long pursuit, Sanji found himself catching feelings and agreed to be his boyfriend.

When that happened after that was that two strong emotions were stirred inside Gin as absolute truths. 1. He was on top of the world because, how could he not? He managed to bag the guy that not only hot girls like Viola and O-Some liked, but guys like Ace and Zoro had been eyeing. Which brought him to 2. Most of the people who had tried to flirt with Sanji were a worry, but the worst one yet was Zoro. See, Zoro was not only objective attractive and in love with Sanji, but also one of his inner circle of friends. And even worse: they were quite close.

So when he got so jealous to the point where he sought out comfort on the bottom of a bottle, he felt it was justified. More than that: when he found his way into someone else's bed, it was completely justified. Of course he loved Sanji so SO much but that was exactly why he cheated. He just knew for a fact that Sanji MUST HAVE cheated AT LEAST with Zoro, right? I mean, how could he not? Plus, it wasn't like the cheating incident would happen again, it was a one time slip up. Except that it wasn't a one time slip up. No. Gin never got caught and thought that was some kind of a sign that he must have underestimated himself before. He found himself more confident, and therefore more attractive to some people. The "some people" who ended up in bed with him over and over again.

But like everything finds its end, so did Gin's luck. It was a mess and ugly breakup. Gin denied, pleaded, and screamed in anger. Sanji refused to listen, tried to get out as fast as he could, and ended up kicking Gin's nose in when he started yelling at him.

"It's not like I'm the only cheater here! Yeah, I know you're probably fucking Roronoa on the side, I've seen the way he looks at you-" profanities followed, much too vulgar for me to write, knowing fully how utterly false they all were.

Sanji furrowed his brows. "I never cheated. But now that we're over, I might actually need a friendly shoulder."

Gin was a mox of pale fear and red with rage.

"How does it feel to know you pushed me into his arms?" He didn't wait for an answer before he left.

And when he left, he found himself just where Gin feared he would. He didn't have any actual intentions on going to Zoro but now that Gin said it... the marimo really WAS always there for him, wasn't he? And he was the most loyal and honest man Sanji knew. He was actually convinced that the man couldn't keep a secret or lie to save his life. Sanji needed something real for once.

Before Zoro could ask why angrily crying Sanji was at his door, Sanji asked "Are you in love with me?"

Zoro gaped like a fish out of water before averting his eyes with a sour expression. "Uh... I... damn it curls..."

It was all the answer Sanji needed before he flung himself onto the man. Adorning him with kisses and straddling him midair. Knocking into walls and furniture making their way into the bedroom.

Zoro there Sanji onto the bed, watching him getting undressed. "What... what about Gin."

"We're done."

Zoro found that pride of being a rebound was lacking in the face of being with the man he had been in love with for so long.

Sanji's phone buzzed and pinged with calls, messages and voicemail from the floor, but then again, neither of them heard anything past the noise they were already making.

At some point afterwards, Zoro picked it up and saw the manic messages. He couldn't help but gloat. He sent a picture and captioned it "don't be a sour loser" before blocking him. (Sanji found out but couldn't find it in him to be upset in the slightest.)

[adorawasright]

tumblr keeps recommending me c//a and pro Catra posts, it's both entertaining and irritating. anyway, i'd like to know your thoughts on this post!

personally, i feel like c//a stans misunderstand our point. we keep saying that Catra does deserve a redemption but she doesn't deserve forgiveness, or at least, instantaneous forgiveness when she has put no effort into trying to change. but they take it as "CATRA IS AN IRREDEEMABLE MONSTER WHO DESERVES TO ROT IN HELL" (which, ironically, is what they say about characters like shadow weaver).

also Adora "wanted" Catra in the finale season because that's how the authors wrote her. it made no sense for her character to suddenly want Catra back after it took her so long to finally cut Catra out of her life.

Do not go after the person who wrote the original post. (this is mostly for my other followers)

Tumblr has been doing the same thing to me, too. It showed me a post that said that as similar as Catra was to Shadow Weaver, she improved to be better. Which is a lie, lmao.

I hate that people think redemption and forgiveness are the same thing. You are allowed to improve as an individual, but the people you hurt don't owe you forgiveness. Sadly, SPOP doesn't have a single character that chooses not to forgive Catra. Even though Frosta punched her in the face, she was more accepting of Catra than Entrapta. Same counts for Perfuma and the other princesses. Though I'm pretty sure anyone would be demonized for not believing that "Catra got better!!!". S5 already does this when Adora vents about Catra being a stubborn brat, she just looks pathetic and Glimmer doesn't take her seriously.

And indeed, most stans think characters like Shadow Weaver or Hordak are not allowed to be redeemed, that's really because they're older and physically disabled.

Finally, yeah, Adora in s4 completely gave up on Catra, she didn't hesitate to nearly kill her without any remorse. Adora's priority was her friends, but especially Glimmer. "I want to be the hero she deserves". But you never see C//A stans talking about that, lol. They only bring up Glimmer and Adora's conflict or Glimmadora at all so they can shit on Glimmer and prove that Catra is a better girlfriend. Which is also bullshit.

Adora is allowed to want things, yes, but s5 pretty much sums it up as her wanting Catra of all people. Not her friends, not a family, or knowing more about her origins, idk. Just Catra. It's literally always about her. Adora is not a character that exists outside of Catra anymore. S5 definitely reinforced this, and the fandom only repeats this. It's annoying.

[sentientstump]

i have a (very evil) question to ask... who's your favorite miracle mask character? favorite to draw, favorite to think about, favorite in general? :)

i will let the images speak.....

thank you for the ask! (⁠~⁠‾⁠▿⁠‾⁠)⁠~

[inseobts]

Unintentional couple behaviour

you two acts like a loving couple all the time, so what happens when someone points it out?

gn!reader

characters: zoro, sanji, law, ace and sabo

(luffy, kidd, katakuri, shanks and mihawk)

words count: around 0.8k - 1.3k each

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

── .✦ Roronoa Zoro:

You do a lot of things for Zoro without thinking.

You wake him up when it’s time to eat. You stop him from training too much. You make sure he doesn’t get lost whenever the crew visits a new island.

It’s normal for you. Someone has to do it.

But one day, the others start teasing you about it.

It happens at lunch. You are eating with the crew when Usopp laughs and nudges your arm.

“Hey, aren’t you gonna get your boyfriend?”

You blink. “What?”

Sanji, cleaning his hands with a towel, nods toward the deck “That moss-brained idiot. You always bring him to meals. It’s like a little routine between you two now. Like a couple…”

“We’re not—” You nearly choke on your drink “We’re not a couple!”

Usopp grins “Then why do you always take so much care of him?”

“Because he’s stupid and forgets to eat!” you say, standing up “I’ll go get him, but not because of whatever weird ideas you guys have.”

You walk away while they laugh behind you.

You find Zoro exactly where you expect, napping against the ship’s railing, his swords next to him.

You roll your eyes and shake his shoulder “Oi, wake up. Lunch is ready.”

Nothing.

You shake him harder “Zoro. If you don’t get up, I’ll eat your food.”

He grumbles and waves his hand, like he’s trying to swat away a fly.

Sighing, you do what you always do. You grab his wrist and pull him up with both hands. He lets you. He always does, like it’s natural.

Zoro blinks at you, still half-asleep “Huh. You again.”

“Yeah, me again,” you say “Come eat before Sanji ‘forgets’ to save you anything.”

You’re still holding his wrist, making sure he doesn’t fall back asleep. That’s when you notice Nami and Robin watching from across the deck, smiling.

“What?” you ask, feeling awkward.

Nami smirks “You two are cute.”

Your face heats up “We’re not—he’s not—we’re not together!”

Robin chuckles “You do take care of him a lot.”

Zoro frowns, confused “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” you mutterl “Come eat.”

You let go of his wrist too fast and walk away, ignoring the warm feeling in your chest.

You think it’s over, but now you notice things.

Zoro always sits next to you at meals, even when there are other seats. You always save food for him without realizing. And during fights, he always protects you first, like it’s a habit.

And, worst of all, people keep pointing it out.

“y/n,” Chopper asks one day, tilting his head “Are you and Zoro dating?”

You almost trip “What?! No!”

“Oh...” He looks confused “But you act like it”

You groan “Not you too”

After that, you can’t stop thinking about it.

The next time you wake Zoro up, your fingers stay on his wrist a second too long. The next time he pulls you behind him in a fight, your heart beats faster.

And then one evening, when you catch him watching you with a thoughtful look, you realize you might be in trouble.

That night, Zoro speaks first.

“Oi”

You look up from your seat on the deck “What?”

He leans against the railing, arms crossed “Does it bother you?”

You frown “Does what bother me?”

“What people are saying” His eyes stay on you “About us.”

You swallow “Why? Does it bother you?”

He doesn’t answer right away “No” his voice is quieter than usual.

Your stomach flips and you look at the ocean “I mean… it’s just dumb teasing, right?”

Zoro doesn’t reply. Instead, he watches you for a long time. Then, finally, he smirks.

“Doesn’t really matter what they say” he says, voice calm but sure “I’d still stick with you either way.”

Your breath catches and suddenly, your heart won’t let you ignore this anymore.

For the next days you try to brush off what the crew said.

You really do, but it’s impossible to ignore when Zoro keeps acting the same way.

Like when you’re on lookout duty together, and he hands you his jacket without a word.

Or when you spar with him, and he pulls his hits just enough so you don’t get hurt.

Or when you fall asleep on the Sunny’s deck, and you wake up covered with a blanket, one you know you didn’t grab.

And every time it happens, you catch the crew watching. Smirking.

It’s driving you insane.

One afternoon, you finally decide to do something about it.

You find Zoro by the training room, lifting weights. His shirt is half undone, sweat glistening on his skin, but you shove that thought aside.

You cross your arms “Hey, Zoro.”

He grunts in acknowledgment, not stopping his reps.

You hesitate “…Why do you treat me differently?”

He finally sets the weight down, wiping his face with a towel “What?”

“You heard me...” You shift uncomfortably “You do things for me that you don’t do for anyone else.”

Zoro leans back against the wall, looking at you like you just asked a stupid question “So?”

“So?” You huff “That means something, doesn’t it?”

He shrugs “I guess.”

You blink “That’s it? You guess?”

Zoro sighs, scratching his head “Look, I don’t really think about it. I just—” He pauses, then shrugs again “I want to.”

Your heart skips a beat “…What?”

“I want to do those things for you,” he says simply “it’s not a big deal”

You stare at him “Not a... Zoro, are you serious?”

He frowns “What, you don’t like it?”

“That’s not the point!” Your face feels hot “You don’t do this for Nami or Robin or anyone else!”

Zoro looks at you, unimpressed “Yeah. Because it’s you.”

You freeze.

The way he says it, so blunt, so obvious, it makes your stomach flip.

He isn’t flustered. He isn’t overthinking it. He’s just stating a fact.

“…Oh.”

Zoro crosses his arms, watching you carefully “Is that a problem?”

You swallow “No. It’s just…”

It’s everything. It’s him always being there, always looking out for you, always treating you like someone important.

It’s a realization you should have had ages ago.

You let out a breathless laugh “I’m an idiot.”

Zoro raises an eyebrow “Well, yeah.”

You smack his arm. He smirks.

But when your hand lingers just a little too long, he doesn’t pull away.

And suddenly, you both understand... this isn’t just a habit.

It never was.

Ever since that conversation in the training room, things between you and Zoro have… shifted, but not in a bad way.

He still trains for hours. Still naps in random spots. Still bickers with Sanji.

But now, when you sit beside him, his arm naturally rests along the back of your chair.

Now, when you fight, he doesn’t just watch your back, he makes sure you’re never out of reach.

Now, when you look at him for a second too long, he looks right back.

Like he’s waiting.

Like he’s giving you the choice.

One evening, you find him on the Sunny’s deck, looking out at the ocean.

“…Can’t sleep?” he asks.

You shake your head, stepping closer “Thinking too much.”

Zoro smirks “Dangerous habit...”

You huff a laugh but don’t argue.

Instead, you stand beside him, silent for a moment before you finally ask...

“Do you regret telling me?”

Zoro frowns “Telling you what?”

“That you… actually treat me differently. That you want to.”

His jaw tightens slightly “No.”

Your heart does something strange “Good.”

You don’t give yourself time to hesitate.

Before doubt can creep in, you grab him and pull him down.

Zoro freezes.

For half a second, he doesn’t move. Doesn’t even breathe.

Then a quiet growl rumbles from his chest, and his hand cups the back of your neck as he kisses you back.

It’s firm. Solid. Like he’s been holding back for too long and refuses to anymore.

When you finally break apart, Zoro leans his forehead against yours, exhaling through his nose.

“…Finally” he mutters.

You grin “You were waiting for me?”

“Wasn’t gonna rush you” His fingers brush your jaw “You get there when you get there.”

You hum, leaning into him “And now?”

Zoro smirks “Now, you’re stuck with me.”

You kiss him again, just to make sure he knows you wouldn’t want it any other way.

── .✦ Vinsmoke Sanji:

Sanji has always been a flirt. That’s just how he is.

He calls Nami and Robin “my love” and “my dear”. He spins around the kitchen whenever they compliment him. He offers to carry their bags when the crew goes shopping.

But when it comes to you, it’s different.

It starts when the crew is eating dinner together.

“Sanji, can you pass the salt?” you ask.

Instead of handing you the salt shaker, Sanji grabs it, twists off the lid, and sprinkles just the right amount onto your plate.

You blink “Uh. Thanks?”

“Of course, my dear” he says smoothly. Then, as if nothing happened, he turns back to his own plate.

You think nothing of it... until you notice the way the others are watching.

Usopp raises an eyebrow “Did he just season your food for you?”

“Yeah?” You shrug “What's new about it? He's a chef and he’s just being nice.”

Luffy grins “He doesn’t do that for anyone else.”

“That’s not true,” you argue “Sanji treats everyone like this.”

Nami hums “Not exactly like this. If we wanted more salt he would start a lecture about how it would ruin his masterpiece.”

Before you can ask what she means, Sanji stands up to grab dessert. He places a plate in front of you first. It’s your favorite.

The crew stares.

You stare too “Sanji…”

He smiles “What? I made extra for you.”

Usopp coughs “Yeah. Okay. Totally normal.”

Robin chuckles behind her hand.

You shake your head and go back to eating. It’s nothing. Sanji is just being Sanji.

…Right?

But then, you start noticing other things.

When you’re cold, Sanji drapes his jacket over your shoulders without you asking.

When you need something from a high shelf, Sanji wordlessly reaches up and hands it to you.

When you’re about to trip, his hand is always there to steady you.

And every time, every single time, he does it so naturally that you don’t even think about it.

Until one day, Franky whistles and says, “You two sure act like a couple.”

You nearly drop the drink in your hands “What?!”

Sanji, who was stirring a pot at the stove, pauses.

Franky leans against the counter, grinning “You two do all that coupley stuff. He gives you the best food, takes care of you, treats you differently from everyone else—”

“That’s not true,” you say quickly “Sanji’s like this with everyone.”

Franky snorts “Nah. He does flirt with everyone. But this?” He gestures between you and Sanji “This is different.”

You glance at Sanji. He’s staring into the pot, silent.

Your face feels hot now “You guys are reading too much into things.”

“Sure we are...” Franky says, smirking. Then he leaves.

The kitchen is quiet now. You swallow and turn to Sanji.

“…Is it true?”

He looks at you. His usual confident smile is gone. Instead, there’s something softer in his eyes.

“I don’t know” he says “is it?”

Your heartbeat quickens.

Suddenly, every touch, every sweet gesture, it all feels different.

Maybe it wasn’t just a habit.

Maybe it was something else all along.

After all this the teasing has only gotten worse.

Ever since Nami and Usopp pointed out how Sanji treats you, they will not let it go.

“Here comes Sanji’s beloveeeed~” Usopp sings when you walk into the kitchen.

“I should start charging you for all the extra food Sanji makes only for you” Nami smirks.

Even Luffy, who usually doesn’t care about these things, grins at Sanji one afternoon and says “Oi, cook, when are you gonna marry y/n?”

Sanji chokes on his cigarette so hard he has to brace himself on the counter.

You groan and drag a hand down your face.

But what really drives you insane?

Sanji never denies it.

He stutters, blushes, waves his hands, but he never says “That’s not true.”

Because it is true.

And it’s starting to drive you crazy.

You try to ignore it. But then you start noticing things, even the smallest ones.

Sanji never lets you carry anything heavy.

He always pours you tea first, even before Nami and Robin.

He adjusts your chair at dinner like it’s second nature.

And the worst part? He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.

But you do.

And now, every time he gives you that look—the one that’s soft, full of admiration, like you hung the damn sun in the sky—your heart stumbles over itself.

This has to stop.

Or something has to change.

It happens one evening after dinner.

You’re in the kitchen, helping Sanji clean up. He hums as he washes the dishes, sleeves rolled up, golden hair falling over his forehead.

You watch him for a second, then take a deep breath.

“Sanji.”

He glances at you, smiling “Yes, my love?”

You grip the counter “Why do you act like we’re together?”

Sanji freezes.

The faucet keeps running. The kitchen is warm with the smell of spices. But Sanji is frozen.

Slowly, he turns his head toward you “…P-Pardon?”

You cross your arms “You treat me differently. Even the crew notices. You never do this stuff for anyone else.”

Sanji swallows hard “I—”

“You never deny it,” you press “and honestly? I’m tired of waiting for you to finally say something.”

Sanji stares at you like you’ve just flipped his entire world upside down.

His hands shake. His lips part like he wants to speak, but nothing comes out.

“…Sanji.” Your voice softens “Do you want this to be real?”

A shuddering breath leaves him. He looks at you, eyes wide, vulnerable.

“More than anything...” he whispers.

Your heartbeat stutters.

That’s it. That’s all you need to hear.

You step forward, grab the front of his shirt, and kiss him.

Sanji malfunctions.

His entire body locks up, like his brain has completely short-circuited.

For a solid two seconds, he does not move.

Then a noise escapes him, something between a whimper and a desperate sigh, and his hands come up to cup your face, pulling you closer.

The kiss is warm, overwhelming, but soft, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he holds on too tight.

When you finally pull away, he’s redder than his own suit.

“…M-Mon amour,” he breathes, voice shaking “You...you actually...”

You smirk “Took us long enough, cook.”

Sanji makes a strangled sound and immediately buries his face in your shoulder, arms wrapped tight around you.

Outside, the crew is losing their minds.

“TOLD YOU!” Usopp shouts.

“I WON THE BET!” Nami cheers.

“Oi, Sanji, you alive in there?” Zoro snickers.

Sanji doesn’t answer. He’s too busy melting against you, whispering sweet nothings into your skin.

And honestly?

You think you’ll let him.

── .✦ Trafalgar D. Law:

Law is not the kind of person who likes physical contact. He doesn’t let most people touch him. He keeps his distance, always standing at the edge of conversations with his arms crossed. If someone bumps into him, they get a glare.

But for some reason, you are different.

It starts when Bepo hands you a coat one evening.

“Here,” he says, tail flicking “you left this in the lounge.”

You blink at it. It’s black, long, and definitely not yours.

“This isn’t mine” you say, confused.

Bepo tilts his head “Oh. But you always wear the captain’s coat, so I thought it was yours now...”

You freeze.

“Wait. What?”

Shachi walks by and hears the conversation. He grins “Yeah, you totally do. Every time you’re cold, you steal his coat.”

Penguin nods “And Law never complains.”

You open your mouth. Close it. Try to remember.

…Okay, maybe you have borrowed Law’s coat a few times. But that’s just because it’s warm! And because it’s there! And because...

Oh no.

Your stomach twists “I... I do not...”

“Sure you don’t...” Shachi teases “What’s next? Calling him ‘dear’?”

You groan and shove the coat at Bepo before walking away.

But now, you can’t stop thinking about it.

After this, you start noticing other things. Like how Law always lets you into his personal space.

How you can tug his hat down over his eyes without him pushing you away.

How he casually rests his hand on your shoulder when he stands next to you.

One day, you trip over a loose crate. Before you even hit the ground, a familiar blue glow surrounds you... Law’s Room.

In an instant, you’re back on your feet, completely unharmed.

The Heart Pirates snicker.

“Captain didn’t even think” Penguin whispers.

“He never uses Room for anyone else’s clumsiness” Shachi adds.

You glare at them “I heard that.”

They just smirk.

Law doesn’t say anything. He just sighs and keeps walking, like saving you without thinking is the most natural thing in the world.

Your heart does something weird. You ignore it.

Later, you sit on a crate, arms crossed. Law stands next to you, reading a medical book.

You glance at him “Your crew keeps calling me ‘Captain’s partner.’”

He doesn’t look up “So?”

“So, why?”

He flips a page “Probably because you act like one.”

Your brain short-circuits.

You stare “Excuse me?”

Law finally looks at you, raising an eyebrow “You’re always in my quarters, you steal my coat, and you act like you belong next to me. They’re not wrong.”

Your face burns “I... You let me do all that!”

He smirks “I know.”

You open your mouth, but no words come out.

Because suddenly, you realize... he has let you. And he still is.

Ever since Bepo and the others pointed out how Law treats you differently, it’s been impossible to ignore.

The extra care during missions. The way he always stands just a little closer than necessary. The way he lets you touch him, his arm, his shoulder, even his hand, when no one else would dare.

But what really gives him away?

The way his ears burn red every time you get too close.

And yet he never says anything.

If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was running an experiment to see how long he could keep this up before you lost your mind.

So tonight you’re calling him out.

You find him in his quarters, buried in medical books.

“Hey, Law.” You lean against the desk, arms crossed “Can I ask you something?”

His eyes flick up “What?”

You tilt your head “Do you like me?”

Law chokes.

Not just a little cough... he full-on chokes on air, slamming his book shut as if that’ll somehow save him.

“What—?!” He coughs into his fist “Where the hell did that come from?”

You raise an eyebrow “You tell me.”

Law scowls, shifting uncomfortably “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Oh? Am I?” You step closer.

He stiffens “What are you...?”

You place your hands on the arms of his chair and lean in, caging him in.

His breath hitches.

Oh. Oh.

He is not prepared for this.

“Law,” you murmur, watching his face closely “you never let anyone touch you, but you let me.”

His jaw clenches “That doesn’t—”

“You always make sure I rest. You check my injuries before anyone else’s.”

“Because you’re reckless—”

“And...” you lean even closer “your ears are red right now.”

Law swallows.

You smirk “So, wanna try again?”

For a long moment, he just stares at you, lips parted, golden eyes darting between yours.

Then, in a last-ditch effort, he growls... “You’re annoying.”

You hum “Maybe.”

And then you kiss him.

Law goes still.

For the first time since you’ve known him, he is completely speechless.

But then a quiet sound escapes him, and his hand suddenly grips your wrist, holding you there.

You almost pull back, unsure, until his other hand slides around the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair, and he kisses you back.

It’s hesitant at first, but when you don’t pull away, something shifts.

The kiss deepens, his grip tightens, and the heat radiating off of him is enough to make you dizzy.

When you finally part, Law exhales sharply, pressing his forehead against yours.

“…You’re gonna be a problem” he mutters, voice rough.

You grin “Yeah?”

His fingers tighten in your hair “Yeah.”

And then, despite everything, he kisses you again.

Because for once in his life he’s done running.

── .✦ Portgas D. Ace:

Ace is naturally affectionate.

He throws an arm around people’s shoulders, laughs loudly, and grins like the world is a joke he’s in on. He’s warm but also because he makes people feel welcome.

So it’s not weird that he touches you a lot.

Right?

It starts when Marco sits down next to you, smirking.

“You and Ace finally together, yoi?”

You look at him confused “what do you mean?”

“A couple… are you two a couple?”

You almost drop your drink “What? No!”

Marco raises an eyebrow “You sure? He always saves you a seat at meals. Always gives you his food if you ask. Always keeps an eye on you during fights.”

You roll your eyes “That doesn’t mean anything. He’s just like that.”

“Not with everyone” Marco takes a sip of his drink “Just you.”

You open your mouth to argue, but then you don’t know what to say, because now, you’re thinking about it.

The next time Ace sits beside you at dinner, you notice how he slides his plate a little closer to yours, letting you steal his food.

The next time the crew docks at an island, you notice how he instinctively waits for you before walking off together.

The next time you’re about to trip, you don’t even get the chance to fall, Ace grabs your wrist and steadies you like it’s second nature.

And maybe it is second nature.

“Careful, Ace,” one of the division commanders teases “If you keep acting like that, y/n might actually think you’re in love.”

Ace laughs, scratching the back of his head “Yeah, yeah.”

You laugh too. Because it’s just a joke… Right?

One night, you sit together on the deck, watching the ocean.

You fidget for a second before saying “The crew keeps calling us a couple”

Ace hums “Yeah?”

You glance at him “Why do you think that is?”

He leans back, arms behind his head, and grins “Probably because we act like one.”

You choke on your own breath “Excuse me?!”

Ace tilts his head “I mean, we do everything together. You always take my food, and I always let you. You always pull me out of trouble, and I always let you. Feels natural, doesn’t it?”

Your brain short-circuits.

Because now that you think about it... yeah, it does feel natural.

“…Ace,” you say slowly “Are we...?”

He looks at you, amusement flickering in his eyes “What do you think?”

Your stomach flips.

Because suddenly, you’re not sure where the habit ends and the feelings begin.

After this, Ace keeps flirting with you all the time.

It’s just who he is.

Winks across the deck. Throwing an arm around your shoulders. Calling you hot stuff like it’s your actual name.

You’re used to it.

But after the teasing from Marco and Thatch, after realizing that Ace treats you differently, you start to wonder.

Is he just playing around? Or is there something real underneath?

There’s only one way to find out.

The perfect opportunity comes one afternoon, when Ace flops down next to you on the Moby Dick’s deck, grinning.

“Hey,” he drawls, resting an arm behind his head “Miss me?”

You smirk “I saw you literally two hours ago.”

“That’s two hours too long.” He winks “Bet you were thinking about me the whole time.”

You hum, tilting your head “You really think that, huh?”

Ace chuckles “C’mon, you love me.”

You raise an eyebrow “Prove it.”

He blinks “Huh?”

You shift, leaning closer with a sly smile “You say all this stuff, Ace. You flirt, you tease... but are you actually serious?”

For the first time, he hesitates.

Just for a second, but it’s enough.

“…Of course I am,” he says, but his usual confidence isn’t all there.

You smirk “Then show me.”

Before he can react, you grab his hat, his precious hat, and plop it onto your own head.

Ace short-circuits.

“Oi! That’s...!” He reaches for it instinctively but stops mid-motion, staring at you.

You tilt the brim with a smirk “What? You said you liked me, right?”

Ace swallows “Y-Yeah?”

“Then just take it back.”

You expect him to snatch it back playfully.

What you don’t expect is for Ace to grin, eyes flickering with mischief, and suddenly tackle you onto the deck.

You yelp as he hovers over you, forearms braced on either side of your head.

The crew whoops in the background, but neither of you pay them any attention.

Ace smirks down at you “You think you’re funny, huh?”

You grin “A little.”

Ace shakes his head, chuckling, but then his expression softens.

He reaches up, tilts the hat back just enough to see your face properly.

And then without thinking he leans down and kisses you.

It’s grinning into the kiss kind of playful. It’s warm and teasing but full of something deeper.

And when he pulls back, face way too close, he murmurs “Now you gotta prove it.”

Your heart races.

You don’t back down. Instead, you tug him down by his necklace and kiss him again.

This time, Ace melts.

When you finally break apart, Ace huffs out a breathless laugh.

“Well,” he grins “Guess you do love me.”

You roll your eyes “Shut up.”

But you don’t stop him when he kisses you one more time.

Because, honestly?

He’s right.

── .✦ Sabo:

Sabo is easy to be around.

He’s kind, smart, and always ready to listen. He laughs at your jokes, never forgets your favorite things, and somehow always knows when you need him.

So it’s no surprise that you spend a lot of time together.

But apparently, the way you act around him is a little… suspicious.

It starts when you’re walking through the Revolutionary Army base with Koala.

“So,” she says casually “when are you and Sabo going to make it official?”

You nearly trip over your own feet “What?!”

Koala grins “Come on, don’t play dumb. You two already act like a couple.”

You scoff “No, we don’t.”

She raises an eyebrow “Oh really? Who’s the first person Sabo looks for when he gets back from a mission?”

“…Me.”

“Who’s the only person he lets borrow his gloves?”

“…Me.”

“And who’s the only one he lets fall asleep on his shoulder without complaining?”

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out.

Because—oh.

Oh.

Koala smirks “See what I mean?”

You shake your head “That doesn’t mean anything. We’re just close.”

She shrugs “If you say so.”

But now, you can’t stop thinking about it. You start noticing things, like how Sabo always finds a reason to sit next to you during meals, or how he reaches out to fix your collar or tuck your hair behind your ear like it’s normal, or how he always makes sure you have a blanket when you fall asleep at your desk, even though no one else gets that treatment.

And the worst part?

Now that you’re paying attention, everyone else is too.

“I swear, it’s like they’re married” one soldier mutters.

“They finish each other’s sentences” another whispers.

“Bet they don’t even realize” someone else chuckles.

You groan and drop your head onto the table.

Sabo, sitting beside you, blinks “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing” you mumble.

He frowns, then wordlessly slides his drink toward you.

You stare at it “…Did you just give me your drink?”

He shrugs “You like it more than I do.”

You glance around. Several soldiers are watching now, smirking.

Slowly, you push the drink back to him.

Sabo looks confused “You don’t want it?”

Your face burns “Nope. I’m fine.”

He tilts his head, then shrugs and takes a sip.

The others snicker.

You sigh.

Later that night, you sit beside him on the rooftop, watching the stars.

“Sabo,” you say carefully “do we… act like a couple?”

He hums “Why?”

“People keep saying we do.”

Sabo leans back on his hands, thinking. Then he smiles “I guess I can see why.”

Your heart skips a beat “You can?”

“Well, we’re always together,” he says easily “I trust you more than anyone. You take care of me, I take care of you. Feels normal.”

You stare at him “That’s… kind of a couple thing, don’t you think?”

Sabo looks at you for a long moment. Then he smirks.

“Well,” he says, voice teasing but gentle “do you want it to be?”

Your breath catches.

And suddenly, the answer seems obvious.

Sabo has always been easy to be around.

You never have to force a conversation. Never have to second-guess his presence.

He’s just there, a steady warmth beside you, the hand that always steadies your back when you walk through the Revolutionary camp, the person you find yourself naturally leaning against when you’re tired.

And the thing is?

He never pulls away.

Even now, sitting beside you near the fire after a long day, his arm rests lightly along the back of your seat. Close enough to feel, but not demanding.

It’s natural.

But tonight, something’s different.

There’s a quiet between you, not uncomfortable, but charged with something unsaid.

You don’t know who moves first, but suddenly your head is resting against his shoulder, and instead of shifting away, Sabo just exhales softly, tilting his head against yours.

You close your eyes, feeling the warmth of him, the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

“…I like this” you murmur, barely thinking.

Sabo hums “Me too” A pause. Then... “I always have.”

Your heart stutters.

Slowly, you lift your head, turning just enough to meet his gaze.

His expression is calm, too calm, like he’s waiting for you to understand something he’s known for a long time.

And you do.

Because of course it was always him.

You don’t say anything. You don’t need to.

Instead, you reach up, gently tracing your fingers along his jaw.

Sabo closes his eyes briefly at the touch before opening them again, watching you with something unreadable, something deep.

Then, without hesitation, he leans in.

The kiss is slow, certain.

It’s not rushed, not desperate because this was never a question.

It was always going to be this.

When you part, Sabo lingers, his forehead resting against yours.

His hand finds yours, fingers lacing together easily.

“…Feels like we should’ve done that a long time ago” he murmurs, lips brushing against yours.

You smile “Maybe. But I think we got here at the right time.”

Sabo chuckles softly, squeezing your hand “Yeah. I think so too.”

And when he kisses you again, it feels like something that was simply meant to be.