#let's not talk about my penmanship

[yankasmiles]

happy yamatsuki day!

[eddiethebrave]

secret admirer part four

1,321 words

one two three

Eddie the hobbit, huh? i haven’t read that one (which isn’t saying much cause i've only read books from class) it’s probably good i’d love to hear you talk about it i’d love to hear you talk about anything, though, so maybe i’m biased p.s. i know it makes me sound like an inconsiderate asshole and maybe i am but i’m only now realizing that i don't know if you want me to stop with these i’m sorry if you do promise i’ll figure out a way to ask -H

Eddie finding a way to reply to him about the book gives Steve peace of mind that he doesn’t want him to stop with the notes, but he still feels sort of weird about it. His thoughts go round and round all day and by the time the dismissal bell rings, he has a bit of a headache. 

After checking that he has enough cash on him, Steve goes out to the picnic table behind the school where Mark Jones sells pot most days. 

He makes his way into the clearing only to see someone who is certainly not Mark Jones perched on top of the table. 

Steve stops dead in his tracks.

Eddie grins sharply and holds his arms out wide. “What have I done to be blessed with his highness’ presence?”

Steve wants to talk to him. Wants to tell him to just call him Steve, wants to ask about his book, but all that comes out of his mouth is, “What are you doing here?”

Eddie’s arms drop to his sides, and he raises his eyebrows in question.

“Where’s Jones?” Steve clarifies, taking slow steps forward.

“Ah, I see. You’re here for my wares.” Eddie abruptly jumps from his seat and stretches with a groan that has Steve’s cheeks heating up. Eddie meanders over to the other side of the table before looking back at Steve and tilting his head in amusement. “Unfortunately, Mark has been let go. He had a nasty pilfering habit.” 

Whatever the fuck that means.

Steve can’t help the small smile that grows on his face, but he lifts his hand up to wipe it off inconspicuously. He’s never talked to Eddie before. 

Eddie drops onto the bench and gestures for Steve to sit across from him. As he does, Eddie opens his lunchbox and begins to rifle through it. Steve lets his eyes trail to Eddie’s hands while his focus is elsewhere. This close, Steve can finally see what shape the chunky silver ring is. A skull with fangs. Of course, it’s a skull. He should’ve known. 

Steve thinks about complimenting it but decides it would only make Eddie suspicious, and he doesn’t wanna be found out (yet, he thinks then immediately backtracks. He can’t let anyone know that he’s writing love notes to a boy. Especially not the boy himself. Who knows how Eddie would react. Even though Steve hasn’t been trying to come off as a girl through the notes, and even though no one could possibly mistake his chicken scratch penmanship for that of a girl’s, still. No one can know).

“So.” Eddie claps his hands and Steve’s eyes snap to his face. “What’ll it be, my liege?”

Steve clears his throat. “Uh, I usually just go for a couple of pre-rolls.”

“Mhm, great choice. Prepared these myself.” Eddie swipes a baggie with two in it and holds it out. When Steve goes to grab it, though, Eddie pulls it out of his reach. “Ah ah ah, Harrington, no freebies.”

Steve rolls his eyes and huffs a laugh. “Yeah, alright, man.” He pulls his wallet out and hands him what he usually pays.

Eddie takes the money and counts it leisurely. “You’re five bucks short.”

Steve stares at him deadpan. 

“Birthday fee,” Eddie offers in explanation, shrugging like 'what can you do?’ “Can’t a guy make some extra change for his special day?” Eddie bats his eyelashes.

This boy is trying to kill him. Steve looks heavenward for strength. He counts down from five in his head and only then does he risk looking back at Eddie. “It’s your birthday?”

Eddie grins. “Yup,” he says, popping the p, “Tomorrow. The big one eight.”

Steve stands and tosses a ten onto the table. Eddie passes him the baggie and starts shuffling through his lunchbox. He pulls out a five and holds it out.

Steve waves him off and Eddie peers up at him suspiciously before shrugging and returning the bill to his stash. Steve turns on his heel and begins his journey back to the parking lot. “Happy birthday to me, I guess,” Eddie mutters and Steve smiles to himself. He shoves his hands in his pockets and pivots to walk backwards. 

“Happy birthday, Munson,” he calls, and Eddie’s head snaps up.

Steve grins before turning back around and breaking into a jog. 

It’s not often that Steve finds himself in the thrift store. Not ever, actually, but with all that Eddie complains about capitalism and The Man (who the fuck is the man) and whatnot, he supposes this is his best bet. 

Steve wanders around, not even really knowing what he’s looking for. He’s idly skimming over the women’s jewelry section when he finds it. A silver ring with a blackish blueish stone in the center. It’s not that far off from the one Eddie already has, is it?

Steve tries it on and it’s a bit snug. He’ll admit that he spent far too much time earlier looking at Eddie’s hands and he thinks they were about the same size as his own, if not a bit thinner. 

It’s perfect. 

…He hopes it’s perfect. 

Eddie heard through the grapevine today’s someone’s b-day i left a gift for you under the dealer’s table p.s. it didn’t fit in the locker p.s.s sorry if this is weird but you’ll understand once you see it -H

He jogs to plant the present in its place. He’d rolled the second note up and slipped the ring onto it. It kinda looks like a scroll.

happy birthday eddie i don’t know if you want me to keep writing or if you think it’s weird or what if you want me to stop just don’t wear the ring and i’ll back off i hope you have a good day and that you like the ring <3 p.s. you’re older than me now

Steve is so anxious that he feels nauseous by the time he makes his way back to practice and it must show because coach tells him to take the bench. Tommy shoots him a worried glance but Steve just waves him off.  

By lunchtime, Steve doesn’t think he can look. He doesn’t know why it feels like this. Like Eddie not wearing the ring would be the end of the world. 

He manages to avoid looking for the first ten minutes and is seriously worried that he won’t have the guts to do it. Just as he’s resigned himself to his fate, Tommy groans from where he’s sitting in Steve’s usual seat (he hadn’t questioned the change) and then he cups his hands around his mouth and shouts.

“Get down, freak!”

Steve only just manages to not flinch. Slowly, he turns in his seat. Eddie pays no mind to Tommy other than flipping him off without even looking in his direction or pausing in his speech.

Eddie is currently using a lunch table as a stage as his friends grin up at him, egging him on. He’s passionate about whatever it is he’s talking about. Steve can tell from the way he begins gesturing wildly as he speaks. 

Steve can't tear his eyes away. He feels like he's finally been given permission to look since half of the cafeteria has their attention on him. 

It’s then that Steve glimpses the ring on Eddie's right hand. His ring.

five

tag list (closed)

@sofadofax @noodle-shenaniganery @queenie-ofthe-void @friendlyneighborhoodgaycousin @devondespresso

@dreamingtheimpossibe @plutoshelm @jaywhohasthegay @scarlet-malfoy @hotluncheddie

@dreamy-jeans137 @justdrugsformethanks @estrellami-1 @travelingtwentysomething @sleepy-steve

@wheneverfeasible @bisexual-and-broke @lil-gremlin-things @n0-1-important @xxbottlecapx

@tinyplanet95

sorry if i missed anyone!!

[xx-reverie-xx]

🖤Sevika HCs🖤

just random sevika hcs. broken up into categories for general, romantic, and nsfw headcanons respectively.

i didn’t try very hard while writing this, so my writing is probably subpar here but…yolo.

im in love with sevika so i add to this like every day …

men dni. minors dni. men dni. minors dni.

safe for enby lesbians. ♥️

general

* raging butch lesbian 🧡🤍🩷.

* her place is messy but in an organized chaos sort of way.

* she smells like cigar smoke (in a good way), leather, peppery mahogany, and a hint of something sweet.

* collects bottle caps. i can’t explain it, i just have a feeling she would!!

* extremely interested in Zaun’s history. she wont go into a full rant about it but she’ll drop interesting facts about it occasionally.

* has very, very cool, gay aunt vibes!!!

* cat person. just imagine her carrying a sweet little kitty with a sweet little smile on her face.

* actually an excellent cook.

* snores… hacks in the morning like a dad.

* before she lost her dominant arm, her hand writing was neat, very bold, and she wrote exclusively in all caps. she’s relearning her penmanship now.

* very heavy handed.

* completely quit smoking after she got a spot in piltover’s council and hardly drinks anymore.

* her carabiner is on the left side. she keeps the basics on it, so just her keys and one or two old key chains she has.

* in a modern au she would be into classic cars and the process of restoring them. her dream car is a 1970 mustang boss.

* on the topic of vehicles i can see her as a biker too. like, imagine seeing her taking off that helmet … swoon! imagine being her backpack … SWOON AGAIN!!!

romantic

* i feel like she doesn’t do romance very often, if at all. so you are one lucky ducky!

* it’s a lot for her to get used to so things develop slowly. patience is key here. she isn’t used to having someone really care about her, let alone love her.

* she’s pretty standoffish and awkward in the beginning. some might say stilted. she never really saw herself having a partner.

* just be patient with her and let her come to you.

* loves hugging you from behind

* if you’re with her at the last drop, she has her arm around you constantly. if it’s not that, she’s having you sit on her lap.

* she isn’t the jealous type at all. she knows that if you’re with her, if she choses you, she has nothing to worry about. if your loyalty to her falters, you’ve got a big storm coming.

* while she isn’t jealous, oh, boy, is she possessive. very big difference between those two. if someone is flirting with you a little too much sevika is at your side in a second flat, staring daggers at whoever’s talking to you.

* this woman is a capital F Flirt. will talk you up one side and down the other like it’s nothing. if you’re just someone she happens to lock eyes with at the bar, you guys could go back and forth with flirting and banter.

* BUT if you and sev have been together for a bit flirting can get her flustered from time to time. you know *just* what to say to her to make her short circuit a little bit. no one can get under her skin the way you can. /pos

* calls you baby. if you’re a femme, she calls you her femme. also fond of calling you “pretty baby”.

* surprisingly soft lips.

* kissing her feels like a dream. slow and sweet and sensual. complete with a warm hand on the side of your face or settled on your hip.

* sevika prefers a partner who can take care of themselves. after all, she’s a busy woman and she can’t always come to your rescue.

* her giving love language is acts is service. need something fixed? in classic butch fashion, she’s absolutely got you covered. do you drink coffee or tea in the morning? she’s got a cup ready for you in the morning, *just* the way you like it. she’ll do anything for you when she’s got the time.

* her receiving love language? words of affirmation. she likes to know that you think she’s *good*. that she’s doing a good job and that you see that.

* loves having her hair played with and her scalp massaged. if you have long nails it’s like a dream for her.

* would be so fucking whipped for you. you’re on her mind all the time. smiles when little things make her think of you. memorizes every little detail about you every chance she gets.

* actions over words. don’t expect crazy love letters or monologues about how much you mean to her. she shows how much she loves and cares for you almost entirely through actions.

* most likely wakes up before you and sits there for a little bit just to memorize every tiny little feature about your face. she never wants to forget what you look like.

* she doesn’t have a type. like, at all.

nsfw

* stone top. there. i said it. no questions. no ifs, ands, or buts.

* nipple piercings 🙈.

* oh, she is eating that thang. this woman is a munch. she would know just how to lick or suck you to make you come before you know it. it’s a very personalized experience.

* she learns you inside and out. knows every. little. thing that makes you tick.

* vocal. like, as in, she talks. she’s dirty about it too. all “oh, yeah? you like that baby?”, “be good for me, i know you can take it” or “i know what’s good for you, now fucking take it”. she talks you through it every time.

* weewooweewoo WE GOT A MAN HANDLER OVER HERE!!!! she will move you every which way, any way she needs you to be. if you’re flexible, she absolutely has fun with that.

* has a collection of straps. different strokes for different folks, am i right?

* will sex you with sensual r&b playing in the background.

* touching on one of her receiving love languages being words of affirmation …

* she loves to be praised.

* it’s something she would never explicitly ask you to do. it’s a subtle thing.

* it’s in the way she short circuits when you tell her how good she’s doing, how good she makes you feel. you can tell she likes that, knowing that she is good for you, in the way her hands tremble or her hips stutter or, if she’s going down on you, the way her eyes go soft.

* she will fuck you senseless and then be so, so sweet on you after. makes sure you’re taken care of, that there’s something for you to drink, has towels ready for you incase you don’t feel like showering for a while after you finish. seriously, it’s like two different people.

okay thats it. i am obsessed with this woman and just wanted to share some headcanons i had for her while i finish up a fic i’m trying to write🎠.

cant believe my first writing here was some random hcs but whatever!!!

requests currently open for multiple fandoms, including arcane :).

dividers by cafekitsune

[bluerosefox]

GHOSTS WITH HEARTBEATS

When Jason had been going to Gotham Academy, he had (for a good reputation for the media and to help him catch up on his penmanship, remember he had been on the streets and dropped out of school before getting picked up by Bruce for a while) signed up for a penpal project for 'less privileged people' to write to.

(Although Jason was annoyed the penpal project stayed within the states and only selected a middle of nowhere town, he knew the Richie Rich Elites would never subjugate their 'Heirs' to actual kids in need of learning how to read and write)

But Jason didn't mind his penpal.

Danny Fenton was a riot to talk, err write to in all honestly.

From his dry punny humor (and boy can he give even Dick a run for his money in the pun department but hey using some of them actually got Dick to warm up to him a few missions ago) and death jokes so many death jokes, to his nerdy love for space Jason enjoyed writing to Danny.

Even the short stories he would write about a ghost kid protecting a small town from other ghosts was interesting to read. He really liked the different kinds of ghosts there could be. Granted some seemed very OP like that Clockwork dude.

Jason liked writing to Danny, and even after the penpal project was over they had plans to keep sending letters, maybe even exchange numbers soon...

But then he died by the hands of the Joker.

The letters leaving Wayne Manor may had decreased but the letters being sent never did or at least until a few years ago.

Then Jason somehow returned to the land of the living.

Got taken by the LoA, tossed in the green waters and turned into their Pit Raged weapon for a while before leaving them behind and setting out for his revenge against the Joker and to force B's hand.

And becoming a Crime Boss for a while too. Can't forget that.

Point being with all this going on, the old warm memories of exchanging letters with Danny Fenton was pushed into the back of his mind and forgotten about for a while.

It isn't until one afternoon at Wayne Manor that while roughhousing with Dick, who had Jason in a brotherly headlock as they walked down a hall to one of the sitting rooms, that while Jason had slipped out of Dick's hold had stumbled into a hallway desk that had a few things on the top of it, one of the things being a small box that tumbled off when Jason hit it.

The box lid opened and out of it spilled out a good number of letters.

"Shiii-p, dang it Dick!" Jason said when he looked at the mess he accidentally made and stopped himself from swearing, the place might be named Wayne Manor but everyone knew this was Alfie's domain and no swearing was a rule within his halls.

Dick only laughed and teased only in a way a sibling can do "Hey not my fault your as big as a tank Jaybird! We should get you some caution signals if you keep bumping into things!"

Jason flipped him his favorite finger, thankfully Alfred only knew when they swore thus it did not summon him, and bent down to the letters.

His hands froze when he recognized the hand writing and the address it was sent from.

"From: Danny Fent Nightingale

Amity Park, IL"

To: Jason Todd-Wayne

Gotham City, NJ.

Wayne Manor"

And when Jason opened the letter. He really wasn't expecting what was written inside.

"Jason.

I'm finally leaving Amity Park. I can't be there anymore, not after everything. I'm too tired, and emotionally hurt. Everything is just to much. And I can't keep doing this to myself. My parents still can’t understand there is nothing ‘wrong’ with me or why I refuse to let them take care of Ellie, I refuse to let her live the way Jazz and I did, Jazz has to much on her plate already with her own life and college but she’s been hounding me to reach out to mom and dad, Sam refuses to listen to me when I tell her I want to be more than ‘Phantom’ in Amity Park, and Tucker is so busy trying to get into a good college and job we barely have time to talk nowadays. And don’t get me started on Vlad, that fruitloop’s been breathing down my neck since Ellie’s deaging.

Despite how much of a hellhole you like to call it, I think Gotham might be my, no mine and Ellie’s best bet of living some kind of life, especially now since the whole deaging she had to go through, she needs an ectoplasm rich city as well and since she has no actual papers because she was my clone and I remember you saying Gotham has people who can create new identities and-

I’m rambling again, to letter you again. I really need to stop it.

I can’t keep pretending you’re going to read these.

I know you’ll never read these. You’re gone. I can’t even find you in the Realms no matter where I look.

I’m sorry. For using you as, well, a way to vent my life for last couple of years. I shouldn’t had done it but it helped me.

Believing my friend was still alive and getting my letters I mean.

Again I’m sorry.

This will be my last letter to your ghost, pun unintended.

Goodbye Jason. Wish us luck in your city.

-Danny Fen-Nightingale...."

The sent date on the letter was roughly eight years ago.

[rosenclaws]

Hi love, I hope you’re doing well! I’ve been a fan of (stalking but let’s not talk about it) your blog for a little while, but this is the first time I’ve sent in a request for you! Your writing for Leopold is literally the sweetest ever and you’re the only writer I know of that actively writes for him, it’s so dry out here!! I was wondering if I could request something fluffy with Leopold x fem!reader where is like the most tooth-rotting fluff you can think of. I’m talking him trying to court the reader even though it’s the modern day and that’s not really a thing anymore and shes a bit confused but loves it, a super touchy reader that loves to shower Leo with her affection, literally anything. Those are just ideas, feel free to be as creative as you’d like (and don’t be shy if you wanna make it a longer fic, I’ll take what I can get). This fandom (if I can even call it that) is such a barren wasteland for fanfics and you are such an amazing writer for him and just in general!!

Much love 💕

Courting || Leopold Mountbatten x Reader

a/n: Hi!! Okay I kinda took this in a slightly different direction so if its not what you wanted then plz feel free to send in another request (ik they're closed but I will make an exception) ALSO FUCK HES SO HANDSOME IM GONNA SCREAM

wc: 1.2k

warning: reader wears lipstick

The last thing you expected was to find a neatly written letter waiting for you when you got home. Pinned neatly to the door with a small rose attached to it. You recognized Leopold's handwriting immediately, no one else you know has such beautiful penmanship.

There’s a flutter of butterflies in your stomach as you open the letter. You and Leopold have gotten very close to each other. He’s unbelievably charming and so sweet and he’s just everything. The way he looks at you, it makes you feel like the only one in the world.

Hello my love,

I am writing to ask if you would do me the honor of accompanying me to dinner and a show this Friday night. I have found myself completely captured by your beauty, you live in my every thought. Every breath I breathe for you and every beat of my heart calls your name. I wish to court you and have the honor of calling you mine.

Your dearest Leopold

You read the letter once, and then again and again. Your fingers trace each letter. Never have you had anyone say something so precious to you before. The rose smells fresh and sweet, he must have gotten it this morning. You hurry to write him a reply, accepting his offer with great enthusiasm.

Folding the letter you press your lips the corner of the paper leaving a lipstick mark. Leopold lives just down the hall so you walk over. Just as you’re about to slip the letter under the door it swings open.

“Leo!” You squeak out as stand back up, almost knocking your head into his chest.

"Hello darling." He's dressed in casual clothes and my god you need to thank whoever introduced him to sweatpants. Anyways.

"I see you received my letter." You bite your lip as you hand over your letter. His name written as fancy as you can.

"Yeah, it was really sweet Leo." He takes the letter and you swear he blushes a little when he sees the lipstick mark. He stares at you for a while, with that perfect smile and gorgeous eyes.

"I uh, I'll see you Friday." His eyes light up at your words.

"I'll see you Friday my love." He takes your hand and kisses your knuckles.

You manage to keep it together as he shuts the door but once you make it back to your apartment you're melting. A giddy feeling you haven't felt in years. You have to wonder how he will attempt to court you in modern day. People don't really court anymore but all you care about is that you have a date with Leopold. Friday couldn't come fast enough.

You had never felt this nervous before. Spending way too long getting ready just to be done an hour early. It's just Leopold, you know Leopold. There's no reason to be nervous but you can't stop the tornado of worry brewing inside of you.

What if something goes wrong? Or the date goes horrible? What if he decides he doesn't like you anymore? What if this ruins your friendship. You shake your head and try to dispel any bad thoughts.

Tonight was going to be great. It has to be. There's a knock at the door and you quickly double check everything before opening it. Any worry still residing in your mind disappears. A beautiful bouquet of flowers is handed to you as Leopold is dressed to the nines. A crisp white shirt and black pants.

"They're beautiful." You say admiring the flowers. Fresh and absolutely gorgeous.

"Not as beautiful as you." Leopold says, barely at a whisper. Like he can't believe that you've even agreed to a date with him. He can't help but admire everything about you. To your smile, your beauty, your laugh, your voice. You're perfect.

You place the flowers in a vase and then the two of you are off. He rests his hand on your back as you walk through the city. His thumb draws circles in your back as you approach the restaurant. He's planned everything himself and he can't help but hope it's enough for you.

Dinner is lovely and the conversation flows without any awkwardness. You're talking to your friend Leopold but you know there's something more as you slowly get closer to each other as the night goes on. Hidden away in the corner booth you are free to get lost in each others eyes. Though you wish you could stay here all night he promised a show. Leopold loved the theater and he promised one day to take you and tonight was the night.

"How did you get such good seats?" You ask as he waits for you to sit before he does.

"I have my ways darling." You're hyper aware of just how close the two of you had gotten at dinner and how close you are now.

The show is interesting yes but Leopold was a very distracting man. Your hands inch closer together. Glancing over at Leopold you find him already looking at you. He waits for your silent approval, not wanting to cross an boundaries. So you take the leap. Intertwining your hands together.

A faint blush on his face and a big smile on yours. His hands are so warm and they fit so perfectly with your hand. When the show ends you reluctantly head back home. You don't want this night to end. Your hands swing together as you gush about the play.

"I had a wonderful night Leopold," You're leaning against your door, wanting so badly to keep the night going. His hair swoops perfectly in front of his forehead and he's got this pretty smile that you can't stop staring at.

"So did I, Thank you for accompanying me tonight." His eyes drift to your lips.

It's adorable seeing just how old school he really is. You know he's from 1876 but still. Modern boys pale in comparison to Leopold.

"You know you don't have to be so nervous Leo, I want to kiss you too." You say boldly.

He chuckles, ducking his head as bites his lip softly. He cups your face gently and you close eyes as he gently captures your lips in a kiss. He's gentle and sweet and you crave more. Still he pulls away much too soon. You pout slightly and he laughs.

"I know I'm much more traditional than you're used to." He traces your lips with his thumb. Admiring every little detail of your face.

"But someone as wonderful as you deserves to be treated with the upmost respect." He kisses your forehead gently.

"You deserve to be loved," Another kiss.

"To be cherished," Another.

"And to be worshiped." Words fail you completely. Leopold has rendered you utterly speechless.

"Did I overstep?" He asks, worried about you silence.

You shake your head. practically jumping into him as you kiss him. Passionately running your hands through his hair. He groans slightly as you tug on his hair. He pushes you against the wall, bracing your head with his hand as he kisses back.

"I'm falling in love with you." He whispers. A hopeful glint in his eyes.

"I'm already in love with you." You admit.

You become lost in his lips as he kisses you again. He just can't get enough. You blindly reach for the door handle and without argument pull him inside of your apartment.

Soft kisses and laughter are shared quietly between the two of you. Time ticks by but you have lost all sense of care in the world. All that matters to you is this moment. Your fairytale come to life. And it was just perfect.

[madrabit]

Challenge "keep the tags normal and under 30"

Me: task failed successfully ✨️

Quick question is 10pm already late enough to make a truly unhinged post or would this have been better suited for 3am? Well… tough luck bc you’re seeing it now 🤷🏻😅

Anyway so the other day @madrabit and I were planning our BoJance kinktober and I made the offhand comment that in my mind, when it comes to them, I always feel like I write 80% of Bojan bottoming, 15% of Jan bottoming and 5% of Nace bottoming and more or less 50/50 of Nace and Jan topping, with a tiny majority of Nace topping

And because we’re insane we counted of course, and while I had honestly already forgotten about it 😬, when I just tagged this post

I was reminded of our insanity

Anyway, here is, without further ado, the lovely little list @madrabit made:

(“Fuckdays” refers to penetration, btw)

So as you can see, we have 20 days where someone gets fucked and it’s 85% Bojan, 15% Jan and 5% Nace which has me INSANE bc why did I just guess that so correctly (also don’t worry abt the 105% this adds up to, some days have multiples 😇)

Idk what the scope of this post is but… enjoy some fanfic statistics? I guess? 🤷🏻😅🫶🏻

Also sorry not sorry to anyone who was possibly rooting for us to post some top Bojan for kinktober, but uh… we are not your guy, it appears 💖

[tarjapearce]

Lips anon! I must have the royal au version of it just imagine 😩

Our King deserves a treat 🤭

So far your stance at the Arachne's Kingdom had been a breeze. You'd spend your days painting, embroidering, writing letters, knowing more of Arachne's kingdom. Your relationship with the king of course was still strained.

It had been just a couple of times you had sat and ate together, or did anything together really. One of your fond memories with him was you taking a stroll with him through the castle. Talking about meaningless things, giving bashful smiles, trying to get closer to him.

Little moments of him being gentle with you, gave you hope. Of. course you wouldn't expect things to just click suddenly. You knew with patience you could get there.

Your paintings had improved significantly, and the little conversation among the court only sparked a new idea for you.

"Did you hear?"

"Captain Reilly received one of those portraits"

The hushed voices reverberated through the ample stony halls. You stood there, eavesdropping.

A gasp

"Really? Oh my lord! Is he courting someone?!"

"No, not that I know off, but I just caught a glimpse of it. It's... scandalous!"

"By your majesty, don't spare the details!"

"Heard that famous painter did it. Leona Visqué. It's really hard to get a commission from her. This woman must be desperate if she wants Captain Reilly."

The voices just kept fading as they ventured further within the halls.

You'd visit Miss Visqué yourself.

-----

"If I should've known that the future queen of Arachne, I would've fix the place a bit. Apologies for the mess, your majesty."

"Worry not dear. I know that oil. paintings can be quite hard to remove."

Leona stared with a smile.

"May I know what is it you will commission?"

Your cheeks flushed softly.

"I... overheard a small conversation in the palace, and-"

"Oh?" She smirked, "Glad to hear my art is being the talk among nobility"

You chuckled as your fingers fiddled nervously.

"I would like one of... your famous portraits." You mumbled.

"Oh..." Leona couldn't help but beam.

"For the king?" You nodded with a bubbly and antsy feeling in your stomach. Eyes still cast down.

"Well, seems my other comissions can wait. Let's make something he'll never forget."

----

The king had noticed how you'd take small trips to the city, only to return until noon. And no matter how much he asked, Jessica wouldn't tell him.

"I gave my word to not say a word." She'd dismiss him with a little smile. If it wasn't for a mutiny in the jails, he'd send his own spies to see what your sudden secrecy was about.

----

The wait was over. Leona had finally finished your portrait. Your cheeks burned brightly as you admired yourself in the canvas. Even though, she had insisted that it was a gift, you still payed her.

The canvas was tucked in a velvety pouch. And when you made sure he wasn't in his chambers, you put the little gift in his bed. A bed you would one day share.

The thought made you flee with a heated face.

-----

He removed his armor and striped himself into nakedness. The servants already had his bath ready. Hot steamy water to sooth his aching muscles. He was only a king in his mid thirties yet felt like someone of fifty. his stubble seemed more prominent. He'd need to shave again soon.

Once done, he dried himself and walked over his bed. The fire inside his dim lit room, only casted it's reflection on his moist skin. His eyebrows grimaced upon the velvety package awaiting in his bed.

Damp strands fell on his face, nimble hands undid the small knot ontop. Your penmanship impeccable as usual.

For your eyes only

He blinked as the canvas was slowly revealed to him.

His mouth gaped, a soft sharp inhale it did when his eyes marveled at what laid in his hands.

Your naked form, laid down, a hand above your head as the other one rested near your mouth, a subtle invitation.

His eyes unavoidably wandered to your hips and thighs, the smooth curves of your flesh were traced by one of his fingers, silently hoping that one day he'd be lost between them. You were laid in a bed of flowers, your hair slowly melding with them as some were placed strategically on your your upper strands.

Pouty lips he once fantasized in touching, pried open in a delicate yet alluring way. His groin twitched. Soft mounds that were often caged under fancy dresses, were now freed for him to see. No longer having to imagine them. Supple, generous, and perfect for his hands to maneuver.

How could he had been so blind?

Divine. Perfect, and soon to be his.

Oh, the last one. He had been too busy to actually dwell into thoughts of his own wedding. A day that seemed closer than he anticipated. But now, he had a reason to look forward to it. And for him to be your first was both thrilling yet endearing, but of course his dark mind offered a little twist.

He'd have you as many times as he wished.

A satisfied smirk nested in his meaty mouth.

Oh he would.

[coconutdays]

emotion

s. you get stuck in your crush/study buddy's room during a freak storm.

w.c. 1.8k

w. gn! reader (I thought a fem reader when writing this, but then I noticed that I didn't really make it gender coded! so I figured it was a plus it came out this way!) , suna! x reader , fluff! suggestive! bc there is some steamy kissing and of the making out

a/n: Earth spun a wheel between Rin, Osamu, and Atsumu for me to write for and it so conveniently picked Suna Rin

Ending up in the same room as your classmate/crush during a storm, at night, with no electricity had never been on your bingo card for the year. Yet, here you were, blinking back into reality seconds after the lights just went out.

"Shit" Suna sighs. You can hear him start to move, making out the shadow of his body standing up and moving towards his beside drawer.

"I have a candle in here." He mutters, the obvious rummaging being heard before it ceases after you somewhat see a cylindrical shape in his left hand. The smell of paraffin going up into flames accompanies the slight bit of light coming from the match he just lit, it fades away the moment he blows out the match after getting the candle to light.

It isn't much, the light coming from the medium sized candle, but it lets you fawn over his face, his entire being. It's a flattering light and it sets a mood you wish you could do something about.

"You think the Professor will cancel the test?" He shivers a little when he sits down across from you again, rubbing his hands together.

That's the reason you were here in the first place, to study for that damn test.

Suna had sat next to you at the beginning the semester after getting there at the last minute and the last open seat had been the one next to yours. Ever since then, you had exchanged small talk and numbers with each other. It happened frequently, befriending the people sitting next to you in class, some days it was a great help to ask each other if the other had done the homework, understood yesterday's lecture, or if they had notes because one of you couldn't go to class that day.

But you only got excited when Suna asked you for your version of the notes from the previous lecture. Everyone always complimented your penmanship, but the first time he got your notes for reference against his, he sent a text:

lol you write really pretty

You smiled to yourself at it when he sent it and could only send a thank you back.

He didn't really befriend anyone else in the class and neither did you because of it. You didn't have the chance to when any free time in the class where the professor hadn't started lecture yet was taken up by conversation he tried striking up with you. It automatically made you study buddies by the time this first test came around.

"Well if it looks like the rest of the campus, or at least half of us lost electricity too, then it might be a no brainer to save it for another time."

He lets out a puff of air as a sarcastic laugh at the situation, "It's like that shit you say. Being delulu is the--"

"Solulu." You finish for him, giggling.

He lets out a 'heh' and leans forward while hugging himself even tighter, "Sorry you got stuck here. The storm really came out of nowhere."

"I'm sorry I got stuck here." You counter, your body starting to shiver at the increasingly cold air filling up the room with harsh cold rain storming just a window away and no heater to protect against it. "I'm in your room after all."

"It's fine," He says, his eyes acting a bit more fox-like than usual as he stares you down before he adds, "Let me give you one of my hoodies, it's getting cold."

And before you can interject and say that won't be necessary, which it really won't--you don't need Suna's hoodie, you're fine freezing to death if it means you don't have to breathe in his intoxicating scent clinging to your skin--he's getting up and walking to his closet.

As quickly as he gets up, he's coming back and handing you a hoodie, the specifics of it like the color or design not something your eyes couldn't register at the moment.

"Thanks." You meep out, basking in the moment your head first slips through it and you feel the hoodie envelop you. You didn't know what was keeping you warm now, the actual material draped over your body or the fact that it was Suna's and he had worn it before, it was his.

When you look back at him and squint a little, you can tell he's wearing one of his own too. One he rarely wore--yes you noted how frequently he wore his hoodies, you couldn't help but make the observation.

"Well if we think tomorrow's test is gonna be cancelled..." Suna drags on, "We can play Mario Kart on my switch?"

You weren't one to frequently come across the opportunity to play on a switch, so you asked, "It can work without wifi?"

"Yea, " He nods, "it's the only I can think of to keep us occupied while we wait to see if the electricity comes back any time soon."

You can think of something else.

And so does he, but he won't tell you that either.

While he gets up to get his console from his desk, you nervously near his bed.

"Hey, Suna, can I play on your bed?"

A shiver runs up his spine and his eyes go wide as he's disconnecting any unnecessary wires from his switch. Time stands still for him and-

"Suna?"

"Yea!" He manages to blurt out like it's not big deal as he comes back to you with the console in hand. When he joins you in sitting on his bed, next to you, propping up the little screen across from both of you, he says, "And you can call me Rintaro. If you want."

You lean over a bit to look at him curiously, noticing a slight change in his demeanor, as if he had something else busying his mind. His eyes seemed caught up in a thought.

"Sure."

That small observation of yours became a thing of the past soon after you had finished playing two matches against him.

He had become your worst enemy.

"You do not let me catch a break!" You laugh and yell at the same time, shoving him with your shoulder.

"Just because you don't play it often, doesn't mean I have to go easy on you." He defends himself, smirking as he looks at you from the corner of his eye while he picks a new map to play on.

You toss your controller to his side of the bed to throw an over exaggerated fit.

"Well now I don't wanna play if I'm gonna keep getting bullied like this." You haughtily huff and cross your arms

Suna jokingly rolls his eyes and is about to ridicule you when you're both suddenly enveloped in darkness again.

The candle must've gone out.

And for some reason, the lack of light made for a lack of noise in the space between the both of you. The rumbles coming from the storm outside filled the void between the both of you and eventually closed the space between you two when a monstrous crack of thunder and lightning made you yelp and grab onto whatever was near.

The shock of the sudden noise had you breathing a bit quick and with your arms around Suna's torso, who instinctively put his arms around you too.

It was quiet, yet not at the same time.

The roaring storm outside was noisy enough,

but you and your study buddy weren't saying anything.

Your hands can feel how sturdy he is underneath the layers of his shirt and hoodie. He's big, an obvious fact considering he is tall and a volleyball player for the school, but it seems so much more prominent when your hand feels so small compared to his huge back.

His breath tickles your ear and you move your head back when you shiver because of it.

His face is now in front of yours because of it. And now you're both in a position to kiss. You can feel his body and mind contemplating it, by the way his head moves a little and how his breath starts to sound. You don't doubt that you're probably doing the same.

When you feel his hand squeeze around your hip, you give him a small peck on the lips. It took all of your courage and some of the intensity from the moment to do it.

You have no opportunity to berate yourself for doing it when he chases after your mouth immediately when you're about to pull away.

And now you're making out with...

"Suna." You sigh, feeling him manhandle you onto his lap

"Rin." He breathes quickly before he reaches for your mouth again.

You can't help the mewl you let out from savoring the moment like the repeated relief of taking off your shoes after a long day of walking.

"Rin." You repeat after him.

Rintaro, Rin, is breathing just as heavily against you as you are. He's going as far as you are, whatever you do, he does in return. When you swipe your tongue against his lips, he does the same, except you open your mouth to him when he does.

And now you're both kissing with tongue.

You moan particularly loud and he juts his hips up into you right before he pulls away from you, the look in his eyes something you so agonizingly wish you could see right now.

"I like you a lot." He confesses, moving his hands down to slither across your thighs and hold them there.

"I like you a lot too." You say back, gripping onto the hem of his hoodie.

"Yea?" Rin breathes against you, going back in to kiss you

"Mhm." You sigh in relief.

"Fuck, "He can't help but push up into you, "You're so fucking pretty."

"You think so?"

"Know so." He groans and heads towards your neck for an assault, holding you in place by the back of your neck. "I want you so bad."

You grind your hips against him, turned on by the confession, "I want you bad too."

BOOM!

And you get scared shitless by the bitchy thunder again, dragging you away from the intensity of your increasingly intense makeout session with Rintaro and into a breathless heap of laughter with him. He had fallen back onto the bed, dragging you down with him and into his arms, snuggled into the crook of his neck.

"Does this mean I can finally follow you on Instagram?"

"Huh?" You're still dazed from the oxygen sucking of a makeout you just shared with him

"I found it a long time ago, but you never gave it to me so I didn't wanna seem like a stalker. You looked really pretty in your post last week though. I like pink on you."

"Stalker!"

[gyllenhaalstories]

ALIBI — RUSTY SABICH

summary: rusty seeks comfort in someone from his past to hide from both the present and the future.

warnings: mentions of cheating & the murder, mostly angst, smut (pussy eating, penetration, marking & hickeys, accidental creampie, some elements of noncon). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 4075

gif credits: me @/gyllenhaalstories / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: i was going off the vibes from the trailers but there are spoilers from the first two episodes. this was supposed to be all smut but then i didn't feel like writing smut so it was all angst but then i remembered i'm bad at writing angst so now it's... a mess. sorry? 👓 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

The doorbell rang. The noise was so loud that it startled you.

You had been on the edge all day, ever since you received a mysterious letter in your mailbox. The enveloppe was bare, the paper did not look much better. It could have been a bad prank for all you knew, it was not addressed to anyone specifically nor did it have the information required to return it. If it had not been of the familiar penmanship that wrote the words I'll be here at midnight, you would have believed that the letter was completely anonymous.

Rusty stood on the other side of the door, his body completely frozen while his mind and his heart raced faster than ever before. It was a bad idea, one of the worst ideas. He tried to make sure that nobody had followed him, but how could he know? How could he completely be sure there was not a car parked in the darkness of the night?

You ripped the metaphorical bandaid off. "What are you doing here?" You gripped on the door knob tightly, fighting the urge to slam the door back in his face.

He looked down at his feet. "You got my letter."

You were not having any of his misplaced timidity. He reached out, he needed to face the consequences. He needed to face you. So, you stepped out of the way and let him make a decision. Whether he walked away before it was too late, or whether he...

Rusty's shoulder bumped against yours while he made his way into your home. Memories flooded his mind. Memories of the two of you talking, laughing, kissing and...

"What are you doing here?" You repeated, this time with more annoyance in your voice.

He stopped reminiscing the past you shared. "I had nowhere else to go. I have no one else, but..."

"You don't have me either. You made that very clear when you disappeared. It's been so long, I started to believe you forgot I even existed. When was the last time we talked?"

When Carolyn started working. "It's been a long time, I know."

"You know everything, don't you?" You stated and closed the door. Rusty stood there, almost as clueless as you about his presence. You eyed him from head to toes and scoffed.

He flinched, expecting you to go on with another lecture about how he was such a horrible man. You did not, you knew he would like that too much.

You walked towards the living room and crashed on couch, as far as you could be from him. The distance made you feel safer. Only this safety was ephemeral and fragile.

"I, huh... I just," he stuttered and clenched his jaw while trying to compose himself. He pushed his glasses up on his nose. "I needed you."

You scoffed again at the use of past tense. Before you could talk back, he continued.

"I need you."

That confession weighted heavy in the air for several long, agonizing minutes. He came to you. He would have to work hard to get whatever he wanted from you.

Rusty fidgeted with his ring finger. Muscle memory.

You crossed your arms against your chest. You had showed this man more patience than he deserved. "Do you want a hug? Do you want me to tell you everything's gonna be okay?

He glanced in your direction, just long enough for you to notice the glimmer of hope in his eyes.

"I'm not the lawyer who's gonna defend your fake alibi, I'm not the detective who's gonna scrap pieces of evidence for you. I'm not the one who's going to get you out of trouble." You bombarded him with all of these options that he had once considered, crossing them off his list one after the other. "I'm not what you need."

"Yes, you are!" He raised his voice and you lifted a brow at his outburst. He hated being cornered, he hated being on the receiving hand of a tactic he had used one too many times in court. "I need you!" He shouted, he surprised himself.

You blinked and suddenly he was in front of you. He stood, tall but not strong. The louder he yelled, the weaker he felt.

"I need you to help me." You locked eyes with him, daring him to go on. "I need you to help me forget." He did not need to speak her name for you to figure out he was talking about Carolyn.

You laughed at him, as if you were hit with a sudden case of hysteria.

Your reaction made him walk away with his tail between his legs. He sat on the opposite side of the couch.

"You think you're so brave. Huh?" You smiled at him, in complete disbelief. "You were talking shit about how you wanted to leave your wife for me. The worst part is... I believed you." He seemed surprised once again. "Then you left me for another woman who died because of you. And now..." Your smile faded and your arms fell to your sides. "You're crawling back to me because you feel lonely?"

This was a mistake. He thought, he hoped, you would be different. He had enough of people berating him. He sprung to his feet and paced around your living room, planning his next move... His next words.

You chewed on the inside of your cheek while he behaved like an animal in cage. "Rusty..." You sighed, slowly giving in without your own consent. You opened the door of the cage.

"I know you feel lonely too." Rusty clenched his jaw. He stood firm in his word. Suddenly he remembered a conversation he had, not too long ago, about taking responsibility. "And I know I'm asking for a lot." His upper lip curled, his body reacting strangely to this rare case of acknowledgement and awareness. Perhaps it could have been... Guilt.

It was your turn to be surprised. This was uncommon, unnatural. You could not quite decipher if he was genuine or not. The longer you stared at him, studying and scrutinizing him, the harder it became to figure out what was going on inside his head. However, you noticed a shift.

Rusty knew he was getting to you. You no longer had the entire control over this conversation. He reentered your house and your life. While you told him you did not want him back, your body was saying something completely different. You expected him to visit, yet you dressed up so lightly in a shirt that hugged your curves and pants he could easily rip open. You never missed an occasion to drink him in, to appreciate the countless hours he spent at the pool to swim through his thoughts. The tough version of you that opened the door with an anger-filled soul softened up faster than he had imagined.

You eyed him up and down again. "This isn't going to end well." You spoke mostly to yourself. He heard you, but did not acknowledge the bad omen.

Rusty knelt before you. Not once did he break eye contact while he crawled, bringing your words into reality. He leaned back when he reached your legs and waited. He waited for you to tell him no, knowing it would only make him crave it more. Rusty rarely took no for an answer anyway.

You reached your hand to stroke his hair. You waited, too. You waited for him to realize he was taking the wrong decision. You waited to gather enough courage, although you were not too sure what to used that courage for.

He leaned into your hand that slid down to his cheek. You reminded him that the chase of thrills and butterflies could hardly compete with someone who had the magical power of calming him down, of making the whole world disappear.

You leaned forward and reached for his glasses that you gently removed. You took a moment to admire the sight of him: the muscles of his thighs almost bursting through his jeans, his chest heaving as if his hoodie made him so hot that he was melting, his eyes begging for your permission.

He watched you set his glasses away on the couch, safe and sound. He turned his head back to you while you lifted yourself off the couch to take off your sleeping pants. Rusty helped you pull them off, he threw them as far away as he could. He decided for you that there was no turning back. He then placed his hands on your knees, ready to part your legs open.

"I'm gonna regret this." You would, but Rusty would not. You locked eyes with him again and drowned into his darkened gaze. "You better make sure it's worth it."

Rusty faced a dilemma: he was unsure whether he wanted to take his time and savour the moment or dive into it head first. The throb of his cock, confined under his clothes, decided for him.

Your body showed no resistance to his touch, your legs opened easily with the light pressure he applied. His tongue licked a long stripe on your inner thigh while he made his way to your core.

You adjusted your position, sitting more lazily on the couch while he pulled you closer to the edge of the seat. He peppered kisses on your pussy before he used his thumbs to spread it open for him. At the first taste, he was addicted. More so, he was reminded of the addiction that had him sneaking out day and night just to eat you out.

Your back arched, pressing yourself against his mouth when he sucked on your clit. You fought back your moans, but, once again, your body betrayed you.

"Missed you so much," Rusty spoke against your skin. He spat on your pussy and caught the drops that dripped down with his tongue. He made a mess, not that he had to try very hard for it. You were already wet for him, he liked to think it was just a reflex you had failed to break since the day he left. "I missed you so fucking much."

You placed a hand on his head, pulling on his short hair. You refused to believe his words, but they sounded so nice. Almost honest.

Rusty began to lap at your folds, making his nose bump against your clit. He swallowed the juices that leaked from your entrance, but he was still left craving more.

You gasped loudly when his tongue teased your hole. You pressed his face against you, as if he could get even closer than he already was.

Rusty palmed at his rock hard cock, moaning into your pussy as he did that. He touched himself over his clothes while he finally focused on your aching clit, flicking his tongue on it to make you squirm. He tried to fight against the movements of your hips, making sure his mouth never left you.

Your legs started to close around Rusty's face, which did not bother him in the slightest. You struggled to keep your eyes open, to watch him while he brought you closer to the edge. He just looked so beautiful.

The vein on his temple was bulging, almost pulsating to match his heart beat. He let go of his crotch and helped you to put your thighs on his broad shoulders, encourage you to let go, to give in.

You were not ready to satisfy him just yet. You wanted this moment to last, you wanted it to be worth the guilt and regret you would experience the moment he would walk out the door.

That only made him hungrier. He devoured you like it was the last time, he shared the mutual feeling that it could very well be. He pulled away from you just long enough to catch his breath one last time. He was determined to get what he wanted from you.

In a matter of seconds, your vision got blurry and your toes started to curl.

Rusty's moans only made the sensations greater while his tongue worked you over and had your entire body shaking for him.

You did not need to speak, to tell him to keep going, he knew what to do. He knew how to make you feel better than anyone else ever could. That remained one of his biggest problems, he was a heartless cheater but he was just so fucking good at it.

He slowed down until your thighs relaxed around him and he helped to set them down, still wide open for him to admire the mess he made between your thighs. You were dripping of your own wetness and of his spit. He could have kept going all night, but he had a more urgent need to take care of. He scrambled back on his feet and, without a word, he took off the rest of his clothes.

You did the same, not without admiring his body and especially the throbbing and leaking cock that he stroked.

He admired you too: the way your clit throbbed for him, how your forehead was covered with a layer of sweat despite just sitting there and doing nothing besides screaming while you were cumming.

He surprised you with a rough kiss, all tongue and teeth. You did not want to reciprocate, you wanted to pull away and to protect yourself from falling harder for this man. It was simply pointless. You kissed him back with the same passion that left you both gasping for air.

Rusty helped you to change positions so that you turned around and you were kneeling on the couch and you leaned on the back of the furniture. He leaned forward to kiss your shoulder and all the way down your back. He wanted to print the memory of you in his mind.

Neither of you felt brave enough to speak. You let your bodies do the talking with moans and grunts that blended into a melody while Rusty pressed the tip of his cock to your entrance. His tongue failed to prepare you for the delicious stretch of his cock.

He squeezed your ass cheeks open, trying to catch a glimpse of your pussy gripping on him. That was the prettiest thing he had ever seen. He helped you arch your back, taking in the perfect position for him to use your pussy to get off. You felt so fucking good, so tight and wet around him. How could he have waited so long to feel you again? How did he manage to wait all this time?

You bit on your lip so hard that it tasted faintly of blood when he bottomed out. He stopped moving for a few moments, letting you adjust to him.

He pressed his toned chest against your back, cooing at you. When he felt your walls relax around his length, he started moving. The small but deep thrusts made tears pool into your eyes.

You held on the back of the couch for dear life when he fucked you harder, when he let you feel every inch of him nice and deep.

Rusty grunted louder and louder. The noises echoed in your apartment, filling the silence alongside the sound of your skin slapping against his. He was getting closer than he wanted to to admit it, so he stalled again.

You felt his hands on your skin, gliding down your arms. He held your hands in his, making the cushion of the couch cave in under the pressure. You looked down at his left hand, but your eyes closed blissfully before you could notice whether he was wearing his wedding ring or not. Your skin was so hot too, you could not even feel it the metal.

You could not feel anything else than Rusty's cock that was balls deep inside of you or his lips that sucked a few marks on your shoulder.

He kissed his way to your neck, where he nibbled and licked. He was buying time and you could feel it. You could hear it too, with the whimpers that came out of his mouth. He murmured at your ear while he marked you. "I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum."

"Pull out, just, fuck," your voice sounded hoarse from the moans. "Just pull out!"

Rusty cursed under his breath, his thrusts felt more like twitches than anything. His left hand moved down to squeeze on your hip, a rough and bruising grip. "I can’t," his body pressed down on yours. You could barely stay up on your knees. "You feel too fucking good on me."

"No! No, no…" You wanted to get him to move, or even to get off him. Anything really, but your pussy clenched on him with vice-like grip. It was already too late.

Rusty held your hip and your hand tight, giving you no room to escape. He grunted at your ear while he emptied himself in you. Multiple ropes of cum coated your walls and made both yours and his eyes roll to the back of your heads. It felt so good, so wrong yet so right. He should not have done it, he should have pulled out and avoid another situation. He never learned his lessons. This was forbidden. He loved it even more.

"Rusty! That was so fucking stupid." You shouted, there was more shock than anger in your voice. Your poor attempts at squirming out of his embrace failed. Your pussy milked him to his last drop.

The room went painfully silent. No moans, no skin slapping, no couch squeaking. Nothing. There was nothing but erratic breaths and the gears turning silently in your minds. What did he do? He did what he needed to do. He did what he knew you wanted him to do. Even if you told him otherwise, even if you tried to convince yourself of the opposite. "I'm sorry."

It was crystal clear that his apology was empty. As if the lack of conviction in his voice was not enough to prove it, the slow thrusts of his hips sealed the deal.

Languid strokes that made him appreciate the warmth he had craved for so long. "I know, this was wrong." He pressed his clean shaven cheek against yours. Slowly, he picked up the pace until he properly fucked you against the couch. "I'm so fucking sorry." He punctuated each word with a thrust that made you moan louder and louder. He was not going to stop anytime soon. He fucked his cum so deep inside of you until he was ready for a second load.

Only Rusty could fuck you this good. He made sure you learned that lesson, rewarding you with orgasms the more you surrendered to the pleasure he shamelessly gave you.

*~*~*

You felt Rusty's arm slide away from your body, goosebumps spreading on your skin from the sudden lack of warmth. You tried to stay immobile, although your eyes fluttered from struggling to stay closed. You knew he would leave. He always did.

He knew he would leave. He could not stay. He could not stay and drag you down with him once more. Rusty had hurt enough people for the time being, he needed to learn to be careful. To calculate the risks. The risks were too high when they involved you.

A part of you had hoped it would be different this time. Maybe he would stay for breakfast. Maybe he would offer to shower together and go at it again. Maybe he would make another promise he would inevitably break.

Rusty surprised you with a kiss to your cheek, one that lingered and communicated more than words could convey in the moment. He stood up on his tired legs and he stepped over your body to search for his clothes.

You opened your eyes a bit, squinting to catch a glimpse of his naked body roaming around your place. He looked so beautiful, so irresistible. His large back, his muscular legs, his toned ass that he quickly covered with his boxers. You could admire him for days on end. He would never grant you so much time in his presence.

He turned around, guilt and regret stabbed him in the stomach. Unfamiliar feelings. You looked so beautiful, so tempting. The delicate features of your face, the curves of your body, your steady breathing that he'd love to fall asleep to again. He wished he could stay with you and forget about the rest of the world.

You felt his eyes on you. You felt him stare and linger on the marks he left on your body, on the other places he'd love to bruise for his own pleasure.

Before he got riled up and, most importantly, before he failed once more to think with his brain, he finished dressing up in a hurry. If he made it back home before sunrise, no one would know about his escapade.

"Wait." Your mouth spoke despite your mind yelling at you to stay quiet and to pretend to sleep a little longer.

Rusty froze in place. He refused to turn around and look at you. Unless you asked him to.

You sat up, wrapping the blanket around your body that he had seen one too many times; your body that he could not even see in the moment. You used the blanket as a shield. An armour to brace for the upcoming impact. "Is she," you cut yourself off. "Was she special?"

You watched his torso rise and fall from the several deep breaths he took before answering. "Very." He did not need one more interrogation, one more trial.

You nodded slowly. "Am I special?"

You watched him experience a myriad of emotions, just by the change in his breathing and how his body tensed up while he searched for an honest answer. This question was a trap.

"Very." He repeated in a whisper. "The most special."

You snickered. His answer felt like just as much of a trap as the question you asked. If you had been the most special to him, why did he pursue Carolyn? Why did he have this grand affair with her and not with you? Why did he risk everything for her and not for you?

As if he could hear the questions running through your mind, he spoke again. "You're the only person I've tried my hardest to protect." He referred to his children that he hurt and sacrificed, to his wife that he lied to and cheated on... To his mistress who died because of his insatiable lust.

It was only then that you finally accepted to face the truth: nobody knew who you were, in relation to Rozat Sabich. He kept you in the shadows, he locked you in a cage. He protected you in this bubble of stolen kisses and broken promises.

If nobody knew that you two shared a long and complex history, he would never have to involve you in this situation more than he already did the night before. He would not need yet another alibi to cover up the messy trail he left behind.

You held your head in your hands. You hated to see him leave, each time felt like it got closer to being the last time he would walk out of your life for good.

Rusty put on his hoodie and fixed his glasses. He was now facing you, but it was his turn to need an armour so he maintained the distance between the two of you. He stared at you, time felt like it had stopped. His lips parted open to speak, but no sound came out of his mouth.

However, you turned to look at him just in time to catch him mouth the dangerous words I love you. You smiled sadly at him with a tear falling down the same cheek he kissed. It was your way to say I love you too.

And just like that, Rusty opened the door and left without another glance in your direction. The wall between the two of you built itself back up in an instant. That way, he protected you from the world. Most importantly, he protected you from himself. All the history between the two of you would remain a secret.

You were his best kept secret.

[jeyunhos]

Reputation | jyh

pairing: professor!yunho x college student!fem!reader cw: power dynamics, professor x student, cunnilingus, 18+ minors do not interact. Summary: Your creative writing professor is so hot you're about to fail his class. Dying to help you, the both of you figure out a new method to increase your penmanship. A/N: glasses yunho is driving me crazy, you hear me, CRAZY

You ever had a teacher with a sort of reputation? The crazy one, the smelly one, the strict one... There's probably a repertoire of clichés and boxes you could fit every single one of this semester's teachers in, but recently, you had grown fond of one particular class: Creative Writing, with professor Jeong Yunho, the dreamy one.

Yunho had a reputation alright, a reputation as the one teacher every girl fell for. Leave alone his absolutely stunning looks, he was kind, patient, and gentle, an all-rounder of a teacher who could instruct a rock on how to write wonderful pieces if he put his mind to it.

One problem, you didn't care for his class at all. Sure, it was fun to try but you were close to failing due to your enormous crush on the man, and you figured your were doomed to continue that way, since the only way to get over him, was to get under him.

You were busy daydreaming about being tied to his office chair as you walked the corridors when you heard your name bounce off the walls and a light trotting behind you. You were snapped back to reality and turned around only to see professor Yunho himself joining you with a huff of his cheeks.

"Phew! I got to catch you." he said excitedly, panting lightly from the sudden outburst of energy he had used.

"Professor" you started, trying to hide your delight and surprise "Is something wrong?" you asked, wondering what he would probably need you for.

"Do you have ten minutes before you head home? I've got to talk to you about your recent piece." in between his large hand he wiggled a foldered set of printed sheets with your most recent submission written on them.

"Sure, right here?" you asked, looking around at the vast prying eyes around you.

He answered with a shake of his head "Join me in my office for a bit."

You followed behind the man through the crowded maze that your school was, he was fast due to his long legs, and hence you were walking slightly behind him. The breeze would carry a bit of his cologne into your nose whenever it blew, heightening the infatuation you already held for him.

Rumors were also true, he was a complete gentleman. The second you got to his office he opened the door and moved aside to let you past and held the chair out for you to sit.

"So," he started as he fixed his suit jacket the moment he sat down "I'm worried about your final grade." Yunho went straight to the tone, which let you know that whatever fantasy you were having about being bent over the desk was not happening.

"What do you mean?" you feigned innocence, knowing damn well that you were close to repeating the class. Well, not that you would mind staring at him for another whole semester, but it wasn't exactly something you could afford.

"Yes, however..." he started, pulling the file open to look at the printed version of your work "Despite having submitted every assignment, your scores have been constantly low and that's because," he cleared his throat, as if trying to find less harsh words to describe your work "the pieces are just not good."

You felt a blush, proof of your embarrassment, creep around your face through your neck, your sight lowered in shame, something he immediately noticed. Your final project was writing a short story about romance, with a twist, and an ending of your choice.

"Let's go over some lines slowly" he said with a gentle, charming smile "For example, this one 'in that moment they felt they were falling in love'" he explained. "Do you see what is wrong with that line?"

"They weren't falling in love?" you asked innocently, not really sure of what he wanted you to answer.

Your little joke caused him to laugh in the form of a chuckle. He was mostly amused by the hardness of your head. He leaned backwards and looked up at you.

"Have you ever been in love?" he asked nonchalantly, as if he was asking 'how have you been?' to an old friend.

With you, you thought to yourself, but of course that couldn't leave your lips.

"Not exactly sure." you admitted finally.

He let out a sigh and nodded mostly to himself .

"In writing, you don't really want to tell the audience what the characters are doing or feelings are experimenting, it reduces imagination to a mere instruction." he explained "You want to tell them about everything else but the actual feeling. So, say, if the characters were falling in love, instead of saying it straight out, you want to describe the way their hearts raced, or how they couldn't pry their eyes from each other despite the chaos around them, or how they longed for something so much more than a mere graze of their lips." he tried to explain to you, but in your face he could see you were not grasping it. "But I guess that's hard if you've never experienced it first hand."

You nodded along with every bit of his explanation, and there was a hint of disappointment and hurt on your face when he finally finished his sentence.

Picking up on this, he gently tapped his hands on the desk and reincorporated himself to lean forward "Let's try something else." he proposed, catching your attention "I'll give you a week, rewrite the thing, but don't do romance, do erotica instead." he asked with a smile on your face.

"Erotica?" you inquired, quite surprised by this new task.

"It's hard to say we have experienced love" he said "But we've all been aroused, it's in our programming as mammals" with a grin, he handed the folder over to you "All my notes are there, write some erotica, send it to my e-mail, and we can talk about your final grade, alright?"

With a swipe of his hand, he ended up dismissing you. You obliged and left the office, albeit reluctantly since being alone with him had been a delight, and headed home to begin working.

Not that you were foreign to fantasizing about sexual scenarios, especially involving him, but putting them into words was a whole other ordeal. 'We all have been aroused' these words resonated in your head, and so, you got all hands on deck.

Four days later, your final manuscript was in his inbox, and only a few hours afterwards you got another e-mail:

jyunho@school.com: Please meet me at 8:00pm in my office to discuss the grade.

8? That was kind of late, but you figured he was in a rush since the semester was ending soon and all the final grades had to be uploaded to the school online system. Plus, it's not like you were exactly in the position to refuse anything, your passing grade was at stake.

You dolled yourself up a bit right before the agreed time, just in case you figured, and went on your merry way. The university halls were creepily abandoned due to the late hour save for some offices with the lights still on, part of being the end of the semester you guessed, and it made you feel uneasy; said feeling disappeared almost immediately once you reached the right door. "Professor Jeong Yunho" it read.

"Come in" you heard a raspy voice call after you knocked.

He himself was a sight to behold. Hair slightly disheveled, suit jacket laid over the back of the chair, black turtleneck shirt on. He looked tired and felt like so.

"So?" you said with a cheery voice, trying to lighten the mood, as you approached the chair.

He let out a sigh, similar to last time but now more exasperated "Still not good." he blurted out.

You could tell his guard was down, because the Yunho you knew as your teacher wouldn't talk so roughly, yet there was something thrilling about said demeanor, something inherently hot to seeing him so worked up.

"You keep describing the actions, this is even worse than the romance one." he added some salt to your wound "'they kissed roughly and she was pinned down to the bed'? This is not a report, this is supposed to be exciting, where's the erotism, the magnetism, the-" as he was ranting on his own with you sitting across his desk, looking amiss of words to be honest, he stopped himself half way when he came to a sudden realization.

"The...?" you tried to ask once he was staring at you in utter silence.

"Close your eyes." he ordered.

"What?" despite your eagerness to obey him, almost naturally, you had to double check that you were listening correctly

"We're going to do a little exercise, close your eyes." he said once more.

You finally obliged and shut your lids. You weren't entirely sure what was happening around you, but promptly you felt a presence behind you.

"I'm going to do a couple of things, I want you to describe to me how you feel when I do them." you could tell he was the presence you had felt from the direction of his voice.

Fuck. You had to be careful, this was getting dangerous. Despite your eagerness to be his little toy, you knew if you didn't tread lightly you could find yourself reported or expelled if he didn't feel the same. So, you made a mental note to actually pay attention and figure out if this little predicament could work out in your favor.

As you were conjuring your evil plan in your brain, he began to work on his own. You felt the tip of his fingers on the back of your hands, slowly crawling up through your forearms, your biceps, and finally your shoulders.

"Talk to me" he urged when you didn't respond "How do you feel?" he repeated himself.

"Warm." you said out loud, your eyes still shut.

It's not like you weren't trying, really, but his touch had wiped your mind blank effectively.

His head shook firmly in disappointment, there was no getting through to you no matter how complex the method he was using, and how certainly... risky. But he couldn't deny this new way was getting him excited, possibly in ways it was not exactly code-of-conduct-appropriate.

"I'll help you." he leaned over further to repeat the movement he had done seconds before, his head hovering next to your ear. "When I touch your hand your skin feels soft, almost silk-like. I grow curious, so my hands travel further up, your forearm is delightful, it sets within me a hunger I can only sasiate with the subtle violence of a bite, but I can't bring myself to do it, not just yet, there's so much I want to explore, so I continue my path until I get to your neck."

His words were beyond arousing to you. The way his hands and body mimicked everything he spoke of was setting your skin ablaze. You wanted him badly, and you had made it your resolve to finally get him to sleep with you, you didn't know how, but you were determined to lead him where you wanted.

"Try again." he instructed, his hands moving away from your neck. "Tell me how you feel."

You were slightly disappointed at the lack of contact, and you were worried you might have missed your window. However, something else entirely caused a gasp out of you. His lips were now grazing the base of your neck and you could feel the hot breath that came out of his mouth straight onto your skin.

"My skin feels like crawling with heat," you began to say "A tingle travels from my hand, following your touch all the way up to my neck; my expectations grow and I wonder just how far you will take this. Your lips wake the goosebumps whenever they touch, and I crave to feel them over my body."

As you spoke, you could lightly hear his breath hitch and, for a second, you could swear he was going to do it, he was going to kiss your neck, but he stopped.

"Seems like you got it" he said as he pulled back after clearing his throat. He moved from behind your chair to lean against his desk, his rear almost laying on it; his arms were crossed over his chest once you opened your eyes.

"Hardly" was all you could say, and you stole a glance at how his pants seemed to have gotten tighter on the front.

"Hardly?" he asked, his head tilting "Is there anything else you're struggling with?"

It was going to be like that, huh? He was not going to drop the teaching charade. Well, you knew a thing or two about playing the student in despair.

You stood up from where you were sitting and walked over to Yunho, your hands hidden innocently behind your back. He was getting a kick out of it, you could tell, perhaps Mr. Jeong was a lot more sinful that he looked at bare glances; well, you'd indulge him.

"Kisses, for example, how do you go from 'looking at each other' to 'kissing' without saying something lame like, I don't know, 'they kissed'?" now you were guiding the situation to where you wanted it to go, you figured.

"Well, with kisses you want to start slow, not quite jump right to it." he began to explain, still keeping his intellectual facade "Like..." he continued, his hand slowly raising to land on the back of your neck, his fingers playing lightly with the back of your hair. His eyes landed on yours and you could finally feel the desire that had been pooling between your legs mirrored in the darkness of his pupils "...this."

Once he finished his sentence he leaned in closer, his lips brushed yours and you tried to close the gap, but he pulled back the slightest. 'Fuck' you thought, but the second you wanted to pull back the hand that was holding your neck forced you otherwise.

Your lips melted together with his almost immediately and he had to inhale a sharp breath; it was only innocent for a couple of seconds, because after his free arm snaked around your waist, his palm to your lower back, all logic fell off the window. From both parts.

The chaste, educational kiss faded quickly and was replaced by his tongue brushing against your bottom lip in attempt to ask for entrance, a permission that was granted immediately. He was exploring the entirety of your mouth, ravishing on the taste of your tongue against his.

It wasn't long before both of you were consumed by the unmistakable desire to break one sacred rule, of diving into unexplored taboo of sleeping with your teacher. He picked up on it rather quick, and shortly he was pulling away.

He bounced himself off his desk and his hands guided you by the hips to turn around, flipping your positions. His hand was certainly gentle, but with such sturdiness you wouldn't even dare disobey his silent commands. One of them held your hair and pushed it down, bending you over his desk with your clothes still on.

This last statement didn't remain true for long, as his needy fingers quickly dived on your lower garments, dipping roughly inside the waistbands and pulling down altogether.

His lips pursed at the sight of your bare ass and cunt all laid down for him, his right thumb trailing your slit and clit teasingly.

"I don't have to narrate what happens next, do I?" he asked. It was his own version of asking for consent.

"I'll still take notes." you teased back, looking over your shoulder.

He let out an amused chuckle and you saw him begin fumbling with his zipper. There was a rumor that he was packing down there, and you were now confirming it with your own eyes. Not ginormous, but certainly a bit above average.

From his pocket, he pulled out a condom which he carefully ripped open to roll it over his shaft; once securely wrapped, he positioned himself on your entrance and slowly began to push it. The slightly painful stretch was delightful, poetic almost, to you.

"You okay?" he grunted under his breath, trying his best to not start pouding right away.

You simply replied with a positive hum and that was everything he needed. With enough force he began to thrust into you, deep and sensual at the beginning, and you could feel him gradually getting rougher.

You were smart enough to keep your moans at bay, but when he started to push all the way in to the point it felt like rearranging you, it became harder and harder. He couldn't be sure that there weren't other teachers around, since it was still around eight thirty, so he had to help you somehow; one of his hands as kept on your hip as grip and the other one had to be pressed up against your mouth. The palm was so wide it almost covered your nose too, and he was extra careful not to accidentally suffocate you.

As a result, your head was pulled back and slightly to the side where he was pressing from, leaving an area of your neck free to his admiration. His thrusts continued to pick up the pace and roughness, and at some point they became so strong the desk began to slide backwards, making an annoying, dragging sound with every thrust.

Yunho was forced to let go of your hip and bend over to hover over you. He was tall enough that his head reached yours and his hand was able to hold the other edge of the desk to stop it from dragging on the floor. As a consequence, your skin was near his lips once more, and he decided to give in to his previous temptation and bite down gently on your skin, leaving a hot mark behind but not a bruise.

"I can't hold back much longer." he said into your ear in an almost apologetic tone.

Your agreement was muffled by his hand, but you let him know it was okay. He continued to grunt and pant heavily against your skin with rough, powerful thrusts into your cunt, but the rhythm was more erratic, and you could tell he was close.

Finally, with a moan of your name that he muffled with your neck, he came.

Being honest, you were a little disappointed that you hadn't gotten to orgasm yourself, but having fucked him was already prize enough, you were not about to get greedy on an already wrong and thoroughly enjoyable sexual encounter.

As you were sunked in these thoughts, he pulled out from you and began fixing his clothes rather quickly. Following his lead, you leaned back up and reached down to pick up your own until his voice stopped you.

"Woah, woah, what are you doing?" he asked, reaching quickly after putting himself back in his pants to avoid you from putting your own back up. "No, no." he continued quickly, his free hand bending you over once more. "Rule number one of erotica: the woman is never left unsatisfied."

You weren't sure what he meant by that, was he going to fuck you again? Maybe, but you weren't sure he could just right away, sure he was young but.. oh.

The long lap at your clit from behind surprised you greatly and caused a long, quiet moan out of you. You could feel him lapping and sucking at your slit with renewed energy, and it was driving you insane just how well he was eating you out.

As he continued his ministrations with his tongue from behind, one of his thumbs reached for your clit, circling it slowly and deliberately, he knew pretty damn well where everything was and he was not about to be shy about it.

Your legs began to tremble, and he was moaning into your womanhood with every taste of it which only added fuel to the fire within you. It wasn't long before you started to feel the familiar tingle on your stomach., and seconds later you allowed yourself to cum against his mouth.

Satisfied with his performance and having reached his goal, he helped you with your clothes back up and walked over back to his chair with you still bent over the desk as you regained your composure. His head tilted so his cheek was almost touching the wooden surface and he could be eye-level with you.

"I expect your story by tomorrow, okay?" he said with an innocent smirk.

"Yes, professor" you said in between pants before you raised to your feet again "And thank you, this was very useful." you added.

That night, you went back to your home and began writing in extreme detail everything that man had done to you; all while changing names, locations, and times, of course. Nothing more erotic than keeping a secret, after all.

The story came out naturally and easily, with a newfound talent that you could have sworn was not there before, somehow Jeong Yunho had managed to fuck it out of you, and so, when you began to struggle with the last lines of your work, the image of his smiling face gave you a strike of genius:

'..and as the young girl hardly waddled out of the room, feeling refreshed, brought anew, she came to the realization that some men really do live up to their reputation."

[dfortrafalgar]

Special Delivery

(Sanji x Fem!Reader- Offscreen)

Sanji reaches out to Zeff for the first time in years.

I wrote this many, many months ago now, and it was the first fic i posted anonymously on AO3. I got a few requests after it was originally posted to write a second part, which I eventually did!

You can read Part 2 here! Original AO3 link

(I figured I should let my blog breathe a little in between the really heavy and emotional Law fic im writing, and what better way to cool down than some sanji fluff <3)

A sharp squawk awoke Red-Leg Zeff from his daze. With a grumpy expression and a low grunt, he peered towards the direction of the sound.

A messenger coo was seated on the railing of the Baratie's upper deck next to where Zeff stood slouched over with his forearms leaning against the wooden support. It cocked its head to the side as if it was deconstructing Zeff's appearance before reaching into its pouch and procuring a parchment envelope. Zeff found it strange. Messenger coos only usually delivered the newspapers or the latest bounty reports, very rarely were they put in charge of personalized letters. It must have been paid off by whoever wanted this delivered.

The gruff man took the parchment from the beak of the bird and watched as it took back off into the air, leaving a few molted white feathers behind in its wake. He looked at the envelope.

All it said on the front, in very elegant handwriting, was "Captain Zeff." He flipped the paper around, revealing a wax stamp holding the opening down, which he peeled off with a calloused thumb.

Tucked neatly inside the envelope was a white piece of paper, tri-folded over itself. Zeff slipped the paper out, unfolding it to reveal the written contents of the letter. The penmanship was impeccable, and the ink was very sleek. He knew immediately it was from Sanji, not many other pirates had handwriting as good as his. He had completely lost track of how many years it had been since the curly-browed boy left with that ragtag group of pirates to sail to the Grand Line, but Zeff had every single one of his bounty posters. He'd never admit it, but they were tacked up on the wall of his sleeping quarters. Every time Sanji's bounty increased, Zeff felt pride swell in his heart.

"How are you doing, you old geezer. It's been a little too long since we've had any contact, so I thought I'd write to you just to see how you've been. You're no slouch, I'm sure you've been keeping up with the world's events over the past however-many years. Do the Marines even bother to keep sending our bounty posters to the Baratie anymore? Well, regardless, I'm sure you can read right through me. I can't deny it, I miss you, old man. I'm happier than I've ever been in my life, and such a huge part of that is thanks to you and the guys back on that old cruiser. Every recipe I try to make, I imagine you screaming in my ear and telling me that it tastes like shit. Some days I really wish I could be back there, but most of the time I'm joyful. Life has been really, really good. A few years ago, I met someone. Last year, we got married, and soon after our lives changed so drastically. She's the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on, and she's as sweet as an angel. I mean it, too. I know you'd probably think something along the lines of me playing up my affections again just because she's a pretty woman, but I mean it. You'd love her, Zeff. Living as a pirate is the most stressful thing anyone could ever do, but she makes every day worth it. The crew was discussing the possibility of returning to the East Blue a bit ago, and when we do, I'm going to introduce you to her. I've spent the last years talking all about you, how you taught me everything I know about cooking, and I can tell she's just as excited as I am to finally see you. This letter's gone on long enough and I don't want to use up all of Nami's paper.

-- Sanji"

Zeff felt a lump in the back of his throat. Sanji had grown into such a fine young man, eloquent with his words and his feelings. He knew how big of a deal it was for the boy to be so honest and open. But one thing in the letter caught him off guard. What did he mean by, "Soon after our lives changed drastically."?

Zeff peered into the envelope, where another, smaller envelope was tucked inside. He almost didn't see it. Pulling it out, he held the letter and original envelope in between his fingers while he opened the second. Sanji was thorough with his packaging, that's for sure.

Inside, there were three photographs printed on thin, matted paper. The first was of Sanji and you, the wife he wrote about in his letter, taken by someone else holding the camera. Sanji had his arm around you, holding you against him, and you had your face nuzzled into his neck. His other hand held a cigarette away from the two of you, like he was in the middle of telling a story. The two of you were smiling brighter than the sun, Sanji's eyes completely closed with the motion of laughter, and yours creased, your irises looking up towards him.

The second photo made Zeff's eyes water. A photo of you and Sanji on the deck of the Sunny, exchanging rings. Sanji was wearing a sleek navy blue tuxedo, while you were wearing a gorgeous white ballgown. For pirates, you cleaned up phenomenally. He could just make out tears in Sanji's eyes as the photo displayed you sliding a band onto his finger. A skeleton with poofy hair stood between the two of you, which Zeff found a little odd, but he chuckled at the absurdity of it all.

Zeff flipped to the last photo.

The tears that were welling in his eyes from the previous image finally slid down his cheeks in heavy, salty droplets. His lip quivered.

Sanji sat in a chair, beaming down at a bundle of cloth held gently in his arm. He was crying in this photo as well, and was reaching a finger over the top of the bundle, where a smaller hand was reaching outwards to grab onto it. A small glimpse of blonde hair could be made out from under the cloth securing the baby tightly. On the back of the film, Sanji wrote the birth date and the name of the baby.

Zeff used a sleeve to wipe his blubbering eyes. His lips quivered, but he couldn't help the smile that broke out on his face.

Was he allowed to call himself a grandfather now? He figured it was only appropriate.

[hannahbarberra162]

Under the Microscope, Part 7 (Yandere Sabo x Reader)

18+ MDNI on Ao3

All the other parts

@orioncipher said that Sabo is basically getting a second cat to keep his first cat company when he travels....and that's exactly right! Two meow meows on a deserted island! Let's see how they do together :3

SPOILERS FOR EGGHEAD

~~~

Your POV

Maybe it would have been better if Sabo had killed you after all. That would have been a less humiliating circumstance than Sabo kissing you in front of Ace and practically skipping out the door, leaving you alone with his brother for who knows how long. Your face burned with embarrassment as Ace looked you over with a smirk.

“So, you and Sabo, huh?” he said, talking with his mouth full. Yep, Sabo should have killed you.

“Uh, it’s not really like that -” you said, trying to get your blush to recede. Your statement only made Ace look more smug as his smile widened.

“I think it’s exactly like that,” he replied, “I’m sure Sabo’ll fill you in eventually.” You frowned, you didn’t like the implication that they knew things you didn’t. You didn’t answer, but also didn’t resume eating. Between Sabo leaving suddenly and the kiss you still felt lingering on your lips, your appetite was gone. You took your cup to drink some water but your hand was shaking so hard you were spilling. Waiting a moment, you took a deep breath and were able to calm down enough to hold your cup and drink.

“What’s with the shaking?” Ace asked, pointing towards your hand with his fork.

“Nothing,” you said tersely, getting up from the table. You weren’t in the mood to deal with Ace’s rude behavior. 

“You gonna finish that?” Ace said, gesturing towards your plate. You pushed your nearly full plate of food onto his, dumping it into the sink when you were done. You’d get to the dishes later, you thought, you didn’t want to be around Ace and his teasing right now.

Sabo had told you to stay in the house until the ship was gone, so even though you wanted to be alone, you still didn’t feel safe ignoring his rule. Walking up the stairs, you went to your room to calm down until the coast was clear. Shutting the door behind you, you went to lay on the bed, and saw a note had been left for you on your pillow case. Turning it over in your hands, you saw Sabo had written his nickname for you on the front, as if there would be anyone else in the room.

One thing was for certain - Sabo had the most beautiful penmanship you’d ever seen. He must have spent hours and hours practicing to achieve handwriting like that. The only time you’d seen anything of a similar caliber was when you’d gotten a letter asking a few follow up questions to an article you’d published. The article itself hadn’t garnered a lot of interest from the scientific community, so you were especially surprised to receive queries from a Warlord. It had been a very esoteric article about the overlap of lineage factors and hereditary conditions and their effect on idiopathic diseases. The letter had been professional and the Warlord had clearly understood your research, so you answered the questions to the best of your abilities. Shortly thereafter, you’d been transferred and begun working on sequencing new Lineage factors unlike any you’d seen before. 

You opened Sabo’s letter, quickly reading through the brief contents.

Dearest Sunny,

I am loath to leave you so soon after our arrival to the island, but I am unable to be absent from the Revolutionary Army any longer. I know this is yet another abrupt change for you, but you will have to be the strong and brave woman I know you are. You have nothing to fear on the island and Ace will help you with anything you may need. He has a baby Den Den that can be used to contact me. Please call at any time of day or night, I would delight in hearing your voice.

There are warmer clothes in the trunk at the foot of the bed, use them in my stead. 

I look forward to seeing more of your pressed flowers, talking together about your findings, and spending our evenings under the stars together. I will be back as soon as I am able.

Love,

Sabo 

Reading through the letter a few times in a row, you had to set it down before you shredded it to pieces. The information Sabo provided was helpful but made you feel worse than you did when Ace was making fun of you. Sabo’s letter was obviously romantic and made your life sound idyllic. Flower picking, dates under the stars, cuddling together for warmth…your face regained its reddened hue you’d worked to lose. You had to take a few deep breaths to keep from screaming in frustration. Not for the first time, you wished that your Devil Fruit was destructive, explosive, powerful, anything that you could channel your rage. But no, all you had was making small things larger. Flopping back on the bed with a huff, you balled your hands and covered your eyes.

When had you accepted that Sabo had kidnapped you? Why were you allowing him to manipulate you into complacency? Sure, the first few days had been fun, especially after you were so seasick. But now you could see things as they really were. You had to get off the island, get away from Sabo, and get back to the Marines, no matter what. You weren’t sure how you’d do it yet, but you’d overcome a lot in your life and you weren’t going to let Sabo lure you into contentment with fake love. Yes, you’d had a good vacation but now it was time to get back to work.

You stayed in the room for hours, trying to think of ways to escape the island and its fraternal inhabitants. Based on the angle of the sun you thought a large enough amount of time had passed, so you went back downstairs to find out if the boat had left. Ace was sitting on the front porch of the house, leaning back against the siding, eating sunflower seeds and spitting out the shells.

“Ace, is the boat gone?” you asked from the nearest window, still inside the house. You hoped he would clean the shells but didn’t have high hopes.

“Oh. Yeah. Like a few hours ago. Thought you were sleeping or something,” Ace said, shrugging. Your lips pressed into a thin line as you fought the urge to say something snarky to him. Irritating the only other person on the island - especially one with a Den Den - would not work in your favor to escape. 

“Thanks,” was all you said, moving away from the window to get your shoes. Getting your sweatshirt and your notebook, you set out for some nature time. Maybe looking at plants and walking around would clear your mind and help you think of new ideas.

A few hours later and you were no closer to an idea of escape than you were before. Sabo had trapped you quite well, you had to hand it to him. It seemed like the only way you were going to get off the island was if Sabo came back and took you with him. You’d have to work on convincing him to let you off the island, to take you to the RA Headquarters. Which raised another problem - you were a bad actress and a worse liar. You sighed as you headed back to the house to make some dinner, your stomach rumbling. You hadn’t eaten since the failed breakfast this morning, you’d forgotten in your anguish.

Looking through the pantry, you saw a lot of ingredients but were unsure what to make. You were good at cooking three dishes, one of which was the buns and eggs you ate for breakfast. The other two were spicy seafood fried rice and gumbo, both of which involved fresh caught fish. Maybe Ace would be helpful and catch some fish for the next day, because you certainly couldn’t catch anything. You decided to make gumbo and leave out the fish for today. When Ace resurfaced, you’d ask him about fishing gear. You hauled out a big pot for the gumbo, you were hoping to make enough for a few days so you didn’t have to keep cooking.

After the gumbo was finally completed, you plated yourself a bowl and sat down at the table. Stirring the stew with your spoon, you tried to make yourself eat a few bites. Even though you hadn’t eaten all day, your stomach felt like it was completely full of your overwhelming anxiety. Still, it wasn’t half bad, so you forced yourself to eat a little bit. You laughed a little to yourself as you got up to get a glass of water to drink. While Sabo was there you hadn’t had to get yourself anything during mealtime, he was as attentive to you as a waiter. Sitting back down and resuming eating, the door banged open, revealing a sleepy looking and sunburnt Ace. 

“Whatcha make?” Ace yelled while walking towards the table. 

“Gumbo, want some?” you asked. You wondered if he was a Zoan bloodhound the way he found food.

“Sure, smells good,” Ace replied, already rummaging in the kitchen for a plate and eating utensil. As he kept piling his bowl higher and higher, your eyes widened. You thought you made enough food for a few days, but you’d forgotten Ace’s appetite. He sat down at the bar, one stool in between you, and started shoveling it in. “S’no fish?” Ace said, while showing you his full mouth. Grimacing, you looked down at your plate trying to ignore his messy eating habits.

“This dish needs seafood. Can you go fishing and get some? I’m not really a good fisherwoman,” you explained. You didn’t mind eating the dish with only meat in it, but it really did taste better with shrimp or some kind of crustacean. Ace hummed but neither agreed nor disagreed. Things became quiet between you two as Ace ate and you resumed your thoughts. Sighing again, you dumped the remainder of your plate on Ace’s as you had earlier in the day. Ace grunted a thanks. You hoped this wasn’t going to be a recurring theme of your stay you didn’t want Sabo bothering you about losing weight again. You went up to your room, hopefully to fall asleep fairly soon as you had the previous few days.

Except, you didn’t. Dusk had come and gone, and you laid in the bed tossing and turning. Sabo had left and so had your habit of falling easily to sleep. You didn’t want to admit it to yourself, but curling into Sabo’s warmth was so pleasant, and it had such a calming effect on you that it put you right to sleep every night. But now he wasn’t here and even with the extra clothes from the foot of the bed you were cold. More than that, your mind was still whirling with thoughts on how to get back to where you belonged. Your hands were shaking and you kept turning your pillow over again and again. Eventually, you gave up and decided to do what you always did when you couldn’t sleep- read anything scientific.

Covering yourself with a blanket, you went downstairs to read on the couch. You forgot to bring a book from Sabo’s room upstairs, so you went into the office. You knew there were books there, you’d seen them during the one time you’d gone in. Sabo had left many papers and books on his desk and you quickly scanned them to see if there was anything of interest. The pile of papers were academic articles, you discovered after picking one up and reading the title. They all seemed to be about lineage factors, genetic sequencing, and devil fruits, you realized after fanning them out on the desk. You sat down on his chair, spreading the articles out further to read them. At least you’d found your reading for the night. And it was all in your area of expertise.

Sabo POV

Sabo hadn’t heard from Ace since he set sail, which wasn’t anything new. Sabo often didn’t hear from Ace at all when he left the island, no matter how long he was gone. Occasionally Ace would call with shopping requests, mostly related to food, but that was about it. His brother was content to wallow in his feelings day in and day out with no interruptions from Sabo. Sabo for his part didn’t often call Ace, wanting to respect his privacy and his wishes. But now things were different, you were there. Sabo was nervous that you would be anxious without him there to smooth things over, that maybe you were as tightly wound as when he found you. So, in the early evening on the fourth day he was gone, Sabo called Ace. 

He was laying on the bed in his cabin, the very same one you had once slept on, holding your old bandana in his hand. He didn’t exactly lie to you, he burned most of your old uniform, but he’d kept the bandana as a reminder of the first time he’d seen you out of code in that warm jail cell. The memory of sweat dripping down your chest with your opened shirt had made him hard even though he knew you didn’t mean for the scene to be erotic. He’d already made notes of clothes he wanted to buy for you now that he was off the island, including a new belt. He saw you had been wearing Ace’s, and even though Ace was his brother, it still made Sabo jealous to see it slung on your hips. 

Puru puru puru puru puru puru puru puru puru

“Yo,” Ace said, picking up the phone.

“Hi, Ace. I was just calling -” the snail now had Ace’s smug smile stretched across its features. Sabo wanted to punch it but knew it wouldn’t deliver the feeling to his brother.

“ - to ask about your girlfriend,” Ace said, finishing Sabo’s sentence. Sabo blinked slowly, he really couldn’t kill his brother. Well, shouldn’t.

“Yes, to ask about Sunny. How is she? I haven’t heard from you,” Sabo replied coolly. He wasn’t going to give Ace the satisfaction of knowing he was getting under Sabo’s skin.

“I dunno, I haven’t seen her,” Ace said while shrugging, making Sabo sit up on the bed.

“What do you mean you haven’t seen her? How? There’s only two of you there. Where is she?” Sabo was trying to keep himself from yelling. He was worried but maybe you were just avoiding Ace. That wouldn’t be out of character for either of you.

“Chill, she’s in your office. She’s been there for like, three days straight. Hasn’t made me more food or anything. I can hear her muttering in there, but I haven’t seen her,” Ace said with a shrug. Sabo was already off the bed and pacing the floor.

“Go to the office. Now.” Sabo demanded, picking up the snail in his hand. Sabo was worried you were working on Project Angel. He was planning on telling you everything he’d gathered, but he hadn’t expected you to put everything together before he got back. He wanted to get copies of a few more documents to show you before he asked you about your work. He kicked himself for not locking up his research in the cabinet. 

“Ugh, why? She’s an adult, she’s fine,” Ace complained. 

“Get off your ass, stop sleeping on the beach, and go to my office. Bring the snail,” Sabo snapped. He was in no mood for Ace’s pity parties.

“Fine. Gimme a minute,” Ace declared, rolling his eyes. Sabo nervously paced, holding the snail in his gloved hand. He waited until he heard the sounds of Ace slamming open the door to the house, then slamming open the door to the office.

“Look, here she is, whoa, what’s all this shit on the floor, she’s uh…..maybe not fine?” Ace said, tone rising at the end of the sentence, eyes darting around.

“What do you mean ‘not fine’?” Sabo demanded as Ace continued moving.

“Don’t step on those papers, I need them,” you said absently. Sabo couldn’t see you but the snail would pick up anyone in the immediate vicinity of the call. Sabo could hear the croak in your voice. It made him wonder the last time you had a cup of water, or went to sleep.

“Well, there’s nowhere else to step, there’s papers covering every inch of the floor,” Ace complained, the snail looking around at Sabo’s hand. “What’s with all the stuff everywhere? It kinda looks like Marco’s office when he would be researching.. And what’s with your fingers?” Ace asked. You mumbled some response but neither Sabo nor Ace understood it. “Uh, I’m not sure what’s going on here ‘Bo. She looks like she hasn’t slept in a week,” Ace said hesitantly. Sabo swore under his breath.

“Put her on the call,” Sabo requested, trying to keep calm for your sake. Once the snail shifted to your appearance, Sabo cursed again softly. You had huge bags under your eyes, you were reading something rapidly, and the snail’s little hands looked like they were bleeding. “Hi Sunny!” Sabo tried to interrupt you cheerfully, maybe you’d be receptive.

“Hi,” you replied, not taking your eyes off whatever you were reading. You were also furiously writing something down, he guessed in your notebook.

“It’s Sabo,” he continued, “how are you doing?” 

“Okay.”

“What have you been up to?”

“Okay.” 

“I missed you,” Sabo said, trying to get a reaction out of you.

“Okay,” you replied, not even listening to what he was saying. Sabo switched tactics, trying to get you to actually interact with him, not run on auto-pilot.

“I joined the Marines,” Sabo said nonchalantly.

“Okay.”

“They made me Fleet Admiral,” Sabo continued.

“Okay.” In all that time, you hadn’t stopped reading or writing notes for a second.

“Ace, take the notebook away from her,” Sabo said. He heard a short scuffle before you finally looked up from your work.

“Hey!! Give that back right now! It’s not a joke!” you yelled at Ace, with true anger in your voice. For the first time, Sabo heard you voice your frustration and anger. Though he was proud of you, he needed you to stop working.

“Listen to Sabo, then I’ll give it back,” Ace said, the snail holding its arm up in the air. Sabo had seen Ace take things away from Luffy and hold them over his head many times, that probably was what he was doing to you now.

“Fine. What, Sabo?” you said angrily, the snail’s eyes snapping to him. 

“When was the last time you ate?” Sabo asked evenly.

You scrunched your face in thought, bringing a finger to your mouth to chew. “I don’t remember. I think…yesterday? Maybe the day before?”

“And the last time you drank water?”

“Before that. I’ve been drinking -”

“- coffee,” Sabo said with a sigh, finishing your sentence for you. “Have you slept at all?”

“Um, I think I passed out for a few hours…at some point. I don’t really remember and it isn’t important. Sabo, I need my work. Give it Ace, NOW.” Sabo had never heard you this upset before, not even when you were being dressed down by other Marines. 

“Ace is going to give it back to you and you’re going to drink the water he brings, OK? You want to keep being able to work, right? If you drink water and eat, you’ll be able to work longer,” Sabo reasoned with you. You blinked a few times, breaking out of your anger. You nodded slowly, almost trancelike. “Ace, give her back her work,” Sabo requested. The snail snatched the air and resumed reading and writing rapidly.

“I’m not a waiter, I’m not bringing -” Ace started to complain again.

“Ace, got to the kitchen. Please,” Sabo practically begged. He wished he was there in person so he could do it all himself but for now he needed to rely on his brother. Something in his tone must have alerted Ace, because the door slammed again, signaling that Ace had left the office.

“What? She’s bitten her fingernails down to the nub but her hands aren’t broken, she can get water by-” 

“Ace, shut up. I need you to reach behind the spice rack, there’s an unlabeled vial. Do it now.” Ace grumbled but Sabo heard the sound of rummaging. “Put five drops into a cup of water and make sure Sunny drinks it,” Sabo continued. 

“What is this shit?” Ace asked, the snail examining something in its hand. “If it’s good drugs, I’m gonna be sad you held out on me,” Ace said with a raised eyebrow. Sabo sighed, at least Ace was consistent in his irritating nature.

“It’s to help her sleep. I was…giving her some when I was on the island. I think that because she suddenly stopped getting it, her sleep cycle is messed up -” The Ace snail’s face grimaced.

“Sabo, that’s fucked. I can’t believe you were drugging her, what else were you doing to her when she was asleep -”

“Nothing! It’s not like that! This is how she is if I don’t help her sleep. Can you blame me? I bet you she’s been working non-stop since the last time you saw her. Just make sure she drinks the water and then leave her alone. Come back in half an hour and she’ll be asleep. Transfer her to the bed and don’t wake her up.”

“Fine, fine. But only this once. You can’t just keep drugging her forever, you know,” Ace stated, crossing his arms over the bandages on his chest.

“Just this once, I promise. Please.” Ace sighed but Sabo heard the sound of running water and footsteps a few moments later.

“Here, Sunny, drink this,” Ace said, the snail holding out its hand.

“Okay,” you replied automatically.

“Ok, she drank it,” Ace confirmed to Sabo. “I’ll be back in half an hour,” Ace said to you.

“Okay,” you said again. Snail Ace rolled its eyes. 

“That’s all she says ‘okay, okay, okay,’ geez. It’s annoying,” Ace muttered. Sabo finally stopped pacing and sat back down on his bed.

“Thank you, Ace.” Sabo said, grateful for Ace’s presence on the island.

“Yeah, yeah. I get it now, she’s even more self destructive than I am. And that’s saying something,” Ace said while yawning. “I’ll get her soon, don’t worry. I won’t forget. Talk to ya later, ‘Bo.” Ace hung up the call without waiting for Sabo to say goodbye. Typical.

Sabo rubbed his forehead as he imagined you passed out on his large desk. How could you argue that you needed his help now? He’d left you alone for less than a week and you’d already worked yourself back into a state worse than the one he’d found you in. He was nervous about your emotional and mental state if you made all the connections Sabo had. He’d call in the morning, make sure you were OK. For now, all he could do was worry as he wrapped your old Marine uniform tightly around his gloved hands.

Ace POV

Grumbling to himself, Ace entered Sabo’s office half an hour later, like he said he would. Sure enough, you were drooling onto a pile of papers you’d been making notes on. Sighing, he picked you up like a child and started carrying you out of the office with your head on his shoulder. He couldn’t believe Sabo would drug you without your knowledge. Well, he could, but he didn’t condone it. You shifted in your sleep, drooling now onto Ace’s shoulder. He smiled lightly to himself, it reminded him of all those times with Luffy, carrying him around the forest after a long day of hunting.

Climbing the stairs slowly so as not to jostle you, Ace made the short walk to your room. He hadn’t been in Sabo’s room in months, there wasn’t any reason to go in there. Ace deposited you gently in the middle of the bed, covering you with the thin quilt Bepo had made for him. It wouldn’t be enough to keep you warm in the night, Ace thought to himself. If he still had his devil fruit…well, a lot of things would be different. For now, he went to his own room and brought a spare blanket he had in his closet and set it over you. 

Ace went out to enjoy the sunset and clear his mind. He’d done a lot of meditation over the past year, but it didn’t help. He was plagued by nightmares when he tried to sleep and deep shame when he was awake. Ace knew Sabo wanted him to leave the island, maybe go find his former crew or their brother, but Ace…just couldn’t. He couldn’t stand to see the disappointment, the rage, the bitter faces of those he had once stood next to, now glaring at him with hatred. A part of him thought that it would have been better if he died at Marineford, so that the death of his Father wouldn’t have been in vain. But, he hadn’t. Ace couldn’t even die right. And he couldn’t imagine the grief Sabo would feel if he left again. So Ace stayed in the limbo of living and dying, eking out a small, isolated life on the deserted island. 

Until Sabo brought you. Ace was smarter than people gave him credit for, he knew what Sabo was up to. He was trying to win you over, to get you to like being with him and on the island. In reality, you had Sabo wrapped around your finger, but you couldn’t see it. Ace clocked Sabo watching you, preparing food and drinks for you, gaining your trust day by day. It was clear that you were an unmitigated genius, the conversations you and Sabo shared were far beyond Ace’s understanding. But you were also sweet and shy, kind and reserved, qualities that Sabo preferred in his partners. Some might think Sabo would want someone who could fight alongside him, but Ace thought Sabo needed someone to take care of, someone to protect. If it wasn’t Ace, it was Luffy. And now Luffy didn’t need them, he had a crew and was more powerful than either one of them, even if he was still an idiot. 

Which only further cemented in Ace’s mind his decision to stay on the island. He was weak now, no Devil Fruit power. Yes, he still could use haki, yes he could still fight, but he felt like a piece of him was missing now that he didn’t have the Mera Mera no Mi. Not only was he a complete failure, he was also the first person to ever lose the ability to use his devil fruit. Sabo wouldn’t fight him using the fruit which defeated the point of sparring, in Ace’s mind. Who would want to see him now? Scarred, depressed, weak, useless. It was better that the world thought he was dead, that he stayed on the island in obscurity and faded into the nothingness that he deserved. 

Your POV

You blinked awake, your mind and mouth felt like they were filled with cotton. Looking around, you were in your bed, covered by a much warmer blanket than your usual quilt. The last thing you remembered was thinking you needed a quick power nap in Sabo’s office…but looking out the window, it must have been at least early afternoon. Stretching in the bed, you saw you were still in your clothes from three days ago. It was gross, but you were glad Ace hadn’t changed you like Sabo had on the boat. You tried swallowing a few times to get the taste of old shoes out of your mouth but it didn’t work. After a quick stretch, you climbed out of bed. Your marathon of working had done a number on you, but you were feeling refreshed.

Descending the staircase, you yawned your way over to the kitchen to make another pot of coffee. You had a lot of research to go through and work on, it was going to be another long day. And night. You started thinking about the next steps in reverse engineering the research while unlatching the coffee canister. You prepared to scoop the grounds but found it empty, which was odd. You distinctly remember there being more coffee, you would have remembered something like that missing, even in your sleep deprived state.

“Looking for something?” Ace asked. You squeaked, you hadn’t seen him waiting for you on the couch.

“Yeah, eh, sorry for yelling,” you apologized. You hoped things weren’t awkward between you and Ace, it would make things a drag if the only other person on the island was mad at you. “Do you, um, know where the coffee went?” you asked hesitatingly.

“I have it, and I’ll give it back on two conditions,” he said, drawing out the tension between you.

“Um…what’re the conditions?” you replied, sitting down on a bar stool to continue the conversation. Even though you thought Ace didn’t want anything nefarious with you, not knowing anything about him made you nervous. You absently brought your finger to your face to chew on your nail, but put it back down when you saw the state they were in. Damn, you’d really bitten them down to the nub, you’d have to bandage them later. 

“I think they’re pretty reasonable. One, we need to call Sabo. He’s been calling me like, every hour to see if you’re awake and it’s annoying,” Ace said, counting off his fingers. You swallowed, your throat dry.

“Alright. What’s the second one?” you agreed, chewing on your lip and tasting blood. Ugh, you had done a number on yourself.

“Two, you have to explain to me what you’re working on. I’m not as smart as you or Sabo, but I wanna know what’s going on. Sabo’s stressed out and so’re you, and I wanna know why,” Ace finished, crossing his arms over his chest. You blinked a few times, surprised at Ace’s demands. They were far more sensible than you expected them to be.

“Ok. I can do both of those things. But can we make some coffee before we call Sabo? I have a feeling he’s not going to be happy with me,” you said with a grimace. You weren’t particularly happy with yourself either, truth be told. Ace hopped off the couch and meandered over to the kitchen. Reaching up to the highest cabinet, he pulled a canister of coffee you hadn’t seen off the shelf.

“It’s convenient you’re short, me’n Sabo can keep stuff away from you up there,” Ace said with a smile. You raised an eyebrow.

“What is Sabo keeping away from me?” you asked, curious.

“Uh…n-nothing! Nothing at all, just saying! Let’s call Sabo!” Ace stammered, a blush rising to his cheeks. You hummed but didn’t say anything. Ace pulled the Den Den out of his kimono and dialed Sabo.

Puru…

Sabo picked up on the first ring.  “Ace, is she -” 

“She’s here,” you replied, interrupting before either one of them had the chance to, grabbing the snail from Ace. 

“Sunny! Thank goodness, you had me worried, how are you feeling? Do you remember talking to me yesterday?” You squinted, trying to think of the past few days. Physically, you felt OK, you’d actually pulled worse stunts. Emotionally…

“I remember you called, but I don’t remember the conversation we had, I’m sorry,” you said. “Listen, Sabo, I’m sorry I worked myself too hard, but -”

“ Worked yourself too hard ? Sunny, you stayed up for three days with no sleep, or food, or water. That’s worse than you were before, I know that -”

“Sabo,” you interrupted quietly, “did you know about my research being used for the Seraphim?” The line went silent for a moment.

“I suspected, but I didn’t have enough proof. I was going to show you my findings when I came back and see if you made the same connections that I did,” Sabo said. “That’s part of the reason I was sent to retrieve you from the base, it wasn’t just the Will of D. -”

“-but you weren’t sent to retrieve me, right? You were sent to kill me,” you continued, setting the snail down on the bar counter. You didn’t know where your courage to speak your mind came from. Maybe it was because Sabo was far away and couldn’t physically see you, maybe it was from his confirmation about your research, maybe it was because you were tired of being left in the dark, maybe it was your conscience talking. All you knew is you needed to hear the truth, even if your hands were shaking too much to hold the snail.

“That’s true,” Sabo said quietly, “but I couldn’t. I just…couldn’t. Please,” Sabo begged into the phone, “please don’t be afraid. I won’t allow anything to happen to you. You’re mine to protect.” You didn’t reply, your courage deflating after Sabo’s intense statement.

“Ok,” was all you said. You handed the snail back to Ace and went to the kitchen to make another pot of coffee. You could still hear the conversation, you just needed a break. You didn’t deserve protection, not after what you’d done.

“See? She’s up and making more coffee, she’s all good -” 

“One last thing, Sunny,” Sabo said in a stern tone. Your eyes flicked to the snail in Ace’s hand. “You can’t work like that. Not anymore. I’ll always protect you - even from yourself. Ace is going to lock you out of the office every night after 8 PM,” Sabo said while you balked. You’d already started thinking about which documents you’d take to your room when he continued. “And no working outside the office. I’ll know,” he said, his intense stare piercing you even though it was coming from a snail. 

“I don’t need you or Ace looking after me, I can set my own limits, I -” you balked at Sabo, ready to defend yourself.

“Are you sure?” Sabo asked, voice low. “Look at your fingers. Look at your lips. You were practically in kidney failure when we last talked. You would work yourself to death if no one stopped you.” You flushed, Sabo’s words stinging your ego. He didn’t understand, you had to figure out what to do, the consequences were too dire otherwise.

“Please, I - I like taking care of you. Let me help you,” Sabo crooned to you. “I don’t want to embarrass or upset you. Please, Sunny? Will you do this for me? Let me help you?” 

You nodded, silently agreeing with Sabo’s plan. You’d figure out a way to get everything sorted in the time he gave you. You didn’t deserve anyone’s kindness, not anymore, but you couldn’t refuse Sabo’s offer.

“Ok, that’s enough. We’ll talk again some other time, Sabo,” Ace said, hanging up the call. “Whew, glad that’s over,” Ace said, relaxing against the couch. “Now that you’ve started the coffee, what are the Seraphim? And how are you connected to them?”

Grabbing a mug and filling it with coffee, you shuffled over and sat across from Ace on the couch. “It’s a long story, get comfortable. OK, do you know anything about lineage factors?” you asked. Ace shook his head.

“Alright, not a problem. Lineage factors are the building blocks of life, every single living thing in the world has a lineage factor. It’s how we all turn out the way we do, from our strengths to the way we look to the diseases we get. Your genetic makeup, the traits you get from your parents, can affect it, your environment can affect it, and eating a devil fruit can affect it. With me so far?” you asked. Ace nodded.

“So, I’ve been researching lineage factors for a long time, at the molecular level. I was given different assignments by the Marines over the years, but they all were about how to replicate, create, or delete different elements from Lineage Factors. So, for example, I could have been working on how to cure West Blue Nerve Depletion. It’s a fatal disease you can get if both of your parents are from a certain part of the West Blue. With my work, if I successfully identified the right Lineage Factor, you could hypothetically erase it and no one would get it any more. That’s really simplified, but you get the point.”

Your face soured as you thought through the next part you had to explain. You gripped the edge of the cushion you were sitting on, pushing on it to relieve your budding anxiety “So. Um. A long time ago, Vegapunk figured out a way to make fake Zoan Devil Fruits using Lineage factors. It was before my time,” you supplied. “The first time around it wasn’t considered a success and the project was abandoned. But a few years ago the project got renewed interest. Sabo - I…we think that Vegapunk used some of my research to make the new generation of artificial Zoan fruits. They’re called SMILE fruits. They…it’s…there’s a lot going on with them. A lot of horrible, horrible…um…” you stammered as you felt yourself starting to clam up. You put your hand on your chest and rubbed as you continued.

“Um, Sabo’s documents show Donquixote Doflamingo was selling these fruits to Kaido and um…it’s…dangerous and they’ve hurt a lot of people. Killed a lot of people. He m-made a lot of m-money, well, the fruit users didn’t….Doflamingo..it’s not…I’m not…” you kept trying to talk but it was getting harder to take full breaths. 

“Hey, it’s OK,” Ace said, leaning forward on the couch, getting up quickly. He moved to sit next to you, putting a hand on your back. You let him, the touch grounding you in reality.

“It’s not OK, um, I thought - I thought I was helping, um people and I was, ah….Doflamingo and Kaido…the Beast Pirates…” you couldn’t get anything in or out, either breaths or thoughts. Ace started rubbing his hand on your back in circles, trying to soothe you. You didn’t know why he was being nice to you, you didn’t deserve it with all the blood on your hands. Your work had resulted in the deaths of hundreds of people, injured thousands more, led to the consolidation of Doflamingo’s power, Kaido’s army growing exponentially and plenty more. You were directly responsible for the suffering of thousands and thousands of innocent lives.

“You don’t have to keep explaining if you don’t want to,” Ace said softly. You stopped talking for a few minutes, letting the anxiety flow through you. But you needed to tell someone, you needed someone else to know the terrible things you’d done. A part of you hoped Ace would find you repugnant after you told him everything, that he would yell at you. You wanted someone to make you feel as awful as you deserved.

“Th-there’s more,” you stammered. “Vegapunk was only able to make Zoan fruits at first, but documents from the RA show that they’re using pieces of my research to kind of make fake paramecia fruits. I worked on this blood a long time ago, I’m not sure exactly what it was, but I think - they’re…ah…making Seraphim. Or made them already, I’m not sure. They’re kind of clones of the Warlords with paramecia powers. Destructive, but completely controlled, it was all done using parts of my…my…uh…my…” you couldn’t talk any longer as your throat closed and your world narrowed. 

Everything was too tight, too small, too constricting. You pushed Ace’s hand off you and ran out of the house, the screen door slamming with a bang. You needed to be away, away from Ace, away from the house, away from the words, away from the guilt, away from the shame…You didn’t know where you were going, you were just blindly running running running running…your socks hit water and you sank to your knees, palms touching the shore. The rocky pebbles of the beach pierced your hands and knees and the cold water lapped at your skin as you took half a breath, trying to calm down, trying to relax, trying to breathe, trying to forget, trying to breathe trying to breathe breathe breathe breathe

“-after you. Holy shit, you’re fast when you run,” Ace said, finally catching up to you, long hair fluttering around his face. “You alright?” he asked, hand hovering near you as if unsure whether to touch you. You tried to nod but weren’t sure if you were successful or not.

“C’mon, let’s breathe with the waves. In and out. Look, here comes a wave. In…….and out, look the wave is going……in……..and out……” You were on all fours, taking in ragged breaths to the sounds of the waves with Ace’s voice, your hands in the water up to your wrists. You didn’t know how long you were doing it, but eventually your breath evened out and you were able to take in a full lungful of air, making your chest hurt with the effort. Finally, you were able to sit down, though you longed to be back in bed. Your adrenaline rush had left you drained, probably still tired from the three days you didn’t sleep. You sat where you were, lower body drenched in sea water from the waves.

“T-thanks,” you said in a halting tone, unsure if your ability to speak would last.

“No problem. I used to do this all the time, it’s a..um, breathing box technique? I think that’s what Sabo called it,” Ace said, scratching his head. “Box breathing, that’s it.”

Everything was quiet for a few minutes as the two of you sat side by side, watching the deep blue sea. As the last of your adrenaline faded, you noticed your hands were stinging from the salt water on your open wounds.

“You explained lineage factors really good. Sabo’s tried before, but I was too dumb to understand when he did,” Ace said, breaking the silence.

“You’re not dumb, it’s pretty complicated. Most scientists don’t really understand it either, that’s why there’s not that many of us who study it in depth,” you replied. You didn’t think Ace was stupid, formal education on a lot of islands left a lot to be desired. You’d met a lot of highly intelligent people over the years who simply hadn’t had educational opportunities. Ace hummed.

“Can you look at my lineage factor?” Ace asked. His tone was casual but his back was stiff.

“Sure, gimme your hand,” you requested. You’d looked at so many lineage factors, most were the same outside of devil fruit users. Ace gave you his hand palm up, you took it like you were going to read his fortune. In a way, you were. Magnifying again and again, you reached his lineage factor. Ace leaned over to watch you study it.

“Oh, that’s - that’s really interesting actually. Are you a devil fruit user? Your lineage factor suggests you are,” you said, poring over his genetic structures. “But also, there are some anomalies, and wow, that’s unique, is that Conqueror’s…? ” you continued, magnifying it even more, “Ace, this is fascinating. I’d love to research you more,” you said. You were lost in thought, moving the magnification around to see more of his factors. You’d never seen anything like it, he had so many factors you studied, but you’d never seen them all in one person before.

“I was a user, but not any more.”

“I’m sorry?” you’d missed what he said, you were busy looking at the latent power held within the man.

“I used to have a devil fruit, but not any more,” Ace repeated.

“Uh, what do you mean, not any more? I thought they only regenerate if you die,” you questioned, dropping the magnification.

“I did,” Ace deadpanned. “I died at Marineford. I was completely dead for…maybe 3 minutes. That’s all it took for the fruit to regenerate. Sabo went and found the fruit when he wasn’t sure I would pull through and… it’s his now. I’m the first person in history to lose devil fruit powers,” Ace said, laughing bitterly.

“Isn’t it better that you lived? You can always -”

“Hey Sunny -” Ace interrupted. You’d gotten used to his bad habit by now and just cocked your head at Ace’s upcoming question. “Since your research was used to make paramecia and zoan fruits, could you make a Logia fruit?”

Your eyes widened. 

[somber-sapphic]

hi it was me who sent in the request it was a emily x reader and the prompt was i am not sick i think , it was the reader who is sick thank you 🫶

A Call For Rest

〖Summary: After an exhausting week Emily convinces you to go home and rest.〗

〖Word Count: 900〗

〖Pairing: Emily x sick R〗

〖Notes: I'm so glad that reached you! And so so sorry about my accidental deletion, I truly don't know what happened there. I sincerely hope this makes up for it <3〗

“Hey love,” Emily murmured, appearing in the doorway as if she’d teleported there. You hadn’t heard her walk up, though you couldn't hear much through your clogged ears. You set your pen down and wiped your nose on your sleeve, too tired to care about how gross it was. The world was sort of hazy, your mind cloudy. 

Writing up case reports was probably not the best idea considering your current mental state but you remembered enough to feel confident that you could go over notes with JJ to get the full story. 

The media liaison would likely be okay if you just dropped the papers on her desk, she had already checked in on you twice and tried to force you to take some medicine. When you refused she’d settled for leaving a cup of tea on your desk. You drank a little bit but forgot and let it get cold, cold tea wasn’t appetizing. 

“Hi Em.” You croaked, the words grating across your throat. Swallowing was already painful enough but talking seemed impossible. Emily walked into your office and leaned against the side of your desk, looking down at the papers that you were scribbling on. She frowned at the illegible writing, trying to make out even the simplest words. You typically had great penmanship, rivaling even Hotch’s, but this was bad.

“Is it safe to assume you aren’t feeling very well?” She put a hand on your shoulder and squeezed gently, concerned that she could feel the heat through your shit. It was a light shirt, but still, she shouldn’t be able to feel your fever through a layer of fabric. 

“I’m fine, just tired. Long week.” You were trying to use as few words as possible while still speaking somewhat normally but with the way your voice sounded, it didn’t matter. Nothing could save you from the reality that you weren’t going to win this fight. The last thing you wanted to do was leave work unfinished to pile up, but Emily didn't look like she was letting you get away that easily.

“Hmm, long weeks don’t usually make me sound like I gargled knives for fun. And you feel pretty warm. And your nose is running.” If she kept listing off things you were doomed. You wiped your nose on your sleeve again and sniffled, not removing your eyes from the papers. It was getting harder and harder to focus, everything was so blurry, and your head felt so groggy. 

“I‘m not sick.” You protested, swiping a hand across your eyes in a useless attempt to clear your vision. You refused to accept that you were just lightheaded and no amount of blinking or rubbing your eyes could fix that. Emily sighed and laid her palm on your forehead, making a face at what she felt. 

“I think your fever would beg to differ. You aren’t getting much done here anyway. I can’t read any of that.” She gestured to your sloppily written paperwork, not bothering to sugarcoat it. She’d had enough experience trying to reason with you that she knew you responded better to directness than to dancing around a subject.

You frowned down at your desk and coughed into your fist, your lungs protesting the extra effort they were being forced to use. Emily put a steadying hand on your back, providing support as you choked on whatever your body decided it needed to hack up. 

 When you were finally finished you looked up at her to find dark brown eyes staring back, filled with concern. 

 “Please, you need to rest. You’re so pale, you look like a ghost. I don’t want you to pass out here.” She caressed your cheek, leaving her palm there as an extra show of her love for you. She wasn’t always the best at offering comfort, she had trouble figuring out how to, but this she could handle. There was an easy fix to being sick and she was more than willing to take care of you through it. 

 “What about-” 

 “I’ll take care of it. Let Emily take you home, I’ve seen corpses that look more alive than you.” JJ’s voice startled you, making you jump a little in your seat. God everyone was just popping up out of nowhere, maybe you were worse off than you thought. Emily smiled at the media liaison and wrapped an arm around your shoulders in a loose hug. 

 “Come on love. Let’s go home. I’ll help you walk.” 

 “I don’t need help walking.” You protested as she lifted you from your chair, proving that you not only needed help walking but you couldn't stand on your own. After taking a few wobbly steps under the concerned gaze of JJ, Emily picked you up deciding that it would be the easiest way to get you to the car in a timely manner. 

 You whined but settled into her arms, relieved by the warmth of her touch. She was warm and soft and strong enough to carry you easily. You pressed your face into the crook of her neck and closed your eyes to protect against the harsh light of the bullpen. 

 “Feel better hun,” JJ said softly, squeezing your arm on your way out. You tried to nod but your head was too heavy. You were practically asleep by the time Emily reached the parking lot, but you didn’t mind. Though you would never admit it you were eternally glad that Emily had shown up when she did, any longer and you were confident you would’ve fallen asleep at your desk. 

[gynandromorph]

another little nofna style emulation comic i drew a bit ago that was primarily about why something can "look like words" when it isn't... it is possibly Legend's first time considering the involuntary nature of reading words. she can rationally know that she isn't looking at writing, but her mind continues to see words that she must try to decipher.

the comic ended up getting side-tracked, but i kind of just let these comics go where they go. it is the nofna spirit.

PS and Legend have probably only spoken several times at this point, as classmates. in my head, this is their first season of classes, and they have only just recently proceeded from practicing handwriting and making letters to writing out spoken word.

i imagine that letters and writing are not intuitive at all to people who haven't grown up with it. Legend knew how to read well before entering school. PS has not really internalized that letters represent sounds. she has seen her teacher or classmates speak words as they're writing lines, and later, other people can tell the words that were spoken while writing the lines. her penmanship is naturally excellent, and prior to this module, she was praised by her teacher lavishly.

i imagine that because MOST RODENTS become markscrafts, and rodents tend to be rather... prolific... in number. that classes for this profession would be fucking huge.

the teacher cannot individually dedicate attention to every struggling student, so the first practice is to pair two struggling students together who seem like they compensate each others' shortcomings and see if they can rehabilitate their grades together.

if students continue to fail despite peer review, that is probably the time where a teacher would talk to them privately or recommend a tutor, etc.

the classes also function by a "revise and resubmit" principle over an "extra credit" principle as it is the most direct way for students to figure out what they did wrong and the least amount of extra work for the professor.

their professor is a mouse; a tried to write the grade print small (called "mouseprint" in the canon).

PS's language here is very rough and strange; i imagine she has, at the VERY most, been exposed to common for only a year. she is maybe ~15-16 in age, psychologically. ever since i made her as a character, i assumed one of her core traits was a low drive to do work. she became a markscraft SPECIFICALLY because she did not want to put in the work to earn prestige or more credit. she picked the easiest possible career for her.

as a younger mind, and only recently introduced to the idea that she has to perform labor or GTFO society, her dislike of work is very obvious and she is not reserved about sharing it. she came from a life where she could volunteer to do small tricks for high value treats if she felt like it, and this life is comparatively brutal and demanding in her mind.

Legend's corsage is red star (Rhodohypoxis baurii) and PS's Leaf is a leaf from a large pineapple lily.

Legend is, conversely, probably 18-20 psychologically. idk, the ages are very weird with these animals. i've imagined her parents as highly Civilized people like XX's mother, but a little less strict. while many citizens of society hate wild people (presumably because many of them are serial killers who might serial kill them), not all of them do (example: nutsedge, who sympathizes with a Wild Hawk killing her classmates), and i imagined Legend's parents impressing into her rather strongly that she did not earn being born into a well-off family and physically gifted species.

of course, this didn't stop her from forming a superiority complex towards rodents anyway-- but, i think she's tolerating a significant amount of Weirdness from PS here that she extremely would not tolerate from someone she didn't assume was wild-integrating-into-society, from the constant touching, to the rude openness, the disdain for work ethic, the odd language usage, and the outfit that's essentially showing up to the study session in pasties and booty shorts.

it seems that in these stories, the animals attain a "fluent" level of speech in common relatively quickly (emancipation, secretary), somewhat influenced by natural talent; i think PS has a brute force spaghetti-against-the-wall approach that lets her just mimic as many phrases that she thinks are novel as possible. usually this is an option only available to toddlers who lack the self-awareness to feel embarrassment about constant awkward linguistic mistakes, but PS also has no cultural priming to be embarrassed of the behavior. you can see her parroting various things she's heard, such as "sooo much" as an emphasis phrase, and even "essentially" after Legend says it in passing. other more abstract phrases such as "with credit" or "okay" i imagine she knows simply by being exposed to them over and over again.

when the two get into deeper levels of literacy and markscraft classes, i imagine that Legend's knowledge of grammar and Big Words in general, combined with an ability to verbally express usually unwritten rules in the language, helped propel PS to a level of fluency that has her speaking like she was raised with it 99% of the time.

[eastwindmlk]

A @jilymicrofics for the prompt Retire, Jan 14th

Word count: 838

It was strange, after more than half a century, to be cleaning up her office for the final time. To carefully wrap her trusty tea set in yesterday’s Prophet, sift through the boxes of paperwork in search of what to archive, what to keep and what to finally bin. 

As she sorted through an assortment of old assignments and Christmas cards from a bygone age, Minerva finds herself reminiscing. Once familiar faces and voices curled from the depths of her mind, a fond smile on her face. 

The corners of her lips trembled like her aged hands when her fingers brushed along a script that gave her pause. Because even after all these years, all these hundreds of students, she could still tell whose penmanship this was. 

The large letters crammed onto the parchment, like he knew he was going to run out of space for his sweeping t’s and large loops. The words slanting upwards as if wanting to escape from the paper. 

She did not doubt that, at the time, that was precisely what he’d had on his mind, while stuck doing a detention assignment for her. It was supposed to be an essay, but in true James Potter fashion, he’d ignored the explicit instruction and instead composed a letter. 

Dearest Minerva, 

As we sit across from each other in your office, a pot of lapsang souchong between us, I am aware you are pretending to be cross with me. For the sake of posterity, I will pretend with you. Though we both know that they deserved every miserable second. 

In the future, however, I will strive for a more creative solution. Even if I think turning their belts into snakes was quite a nifty piece of transfiguration. I will let you be the judge of that. Being the expert and all that. 

Speaking of the future, I am supposed to write an essay about where I see myself next year. Which I could have answered effortlessly a fortnight ago. But things changed. Every paper is full of it now. And I refuse to sit idle just because I happened to have been born into a family that fits into their narrow view of our world. 

One year from now, I will be as restless as ever. Using the privilege that comes with my name to help those who cannot help themselves. However, unlike before, I will not humour myself with the delusion that this can be achieved by mere words. 

I will gladly put my wand with my conviction and face whatever is in store beyond the safety of these walls. Together with my friends, we will make a difference. 

My friends and I are talking about getting a place together, somewhere nice and lively. We were hoping to travel, see some of the world. Those plans are on hold, at least for now. Though none of us will say it aloud, we hope that the four of us will be around for it.

So, we spend evenings talking about this trip, imagining places to go and things to do in the hopes that the four of us will get to go.

Hopefully, I will be dating Lily Evans. (Please don’t tell her I said that.) I think she is finally coming round to me. She no longer glares in my direction, though I can still feel her eyes on me sometimes.

Maybe I am crazy, but I can tell it is her just from the way it feels. Her watching me is special somehow. Often I itch to turn to her, to catch her looking. To catch a glimpse of her smile or her fluster. Just the fraction of a moment where I can believe she might actually feel the same way. 

Or maybe not the same way. I would not wish this complete and utter agony on her. If she does come to fall for me, I hope she falls softer. I hope that I am not too blind to see and catch her before the rough landing. 

That is only if I will ever be lucky enough to be enough for her. To have grown into a person, she can depend on rather than the childish prick (I am so sorry, did not mean to curse.) I used to be. 

I am afraid I am running out of space. I could fill several more rolls of parchment (Which is not me asking for more) with hopes and wishes for the year ahead. Some more achievable (Pass my N.E.W.T. s) and some more hopeful (Snog Lily Evans. Again, please don’t tell her I wrote any of this.)

Your favourite student, 

James Potter 

Her fingers crumpled the paper where she gripped it tight, a lump rising in her throat. Her eyes scanned the content of the letter once more before pressing it briefly to her heart before placing it atop her pile of keepsakes. 

Minerva pushed herself to her feet, in dire need of a break and craving a cup of lapsang souchong. 

[podcastenthusiast]

Lucien: So, um. Gore, is it? That's...

Gore: Got a problem, mage?

Lucien: Not at all! It's very...colorful. Apt, I'm sure, for a man of your, uh, particular talents.

Gore: Are you...flirting with me?

Lucien: What? No! Not that you're-- Ugh! Divines, why does this always happen?!

Gore: (laughs)

--

Gore: You remind me of someone, scholar.

Lucien: I do?

Gore: A lordling once hired the Ravens to escort him to Valenwood. Nice guy. He was from Skingrad but Bosmer by blood. Wanted to "find his roots" I guess. He'd read every book about the place. All he ever talked about.

Lucien: I see... Did he find what he was seeking?

Gore: I doubt it. One night he left camp for a piss or something. Will-o-the-Wisp got him before we knew it. Poor sod never even made it to the border.

Lucien: Oh.

Lucien: Why are you telling me this? Not a cheerful comparison, I must say.

Gore: Don't know. I think it's brave, what you're doing. Seeing the world. Just remember this isn't one of your stories, okay?

Lucien: I'm still not quite certain I understand.

Gore: You've got a big brain. I'm in no hurry to see it in pieces crushed out of your skull.

Lucien: Ah.

--

Lucien: Gore, do let me know if you would like any assistance with your academic pursuits.

Gore: My what now?

Lucien: I know Remiel has been helping with your reading. I have all manner of books to share as well, of course. And writing! We must work on improving your penmanship.

Gore: Ugh. I'll pass. You write enough for all of us.

Lucien: But it'll be fun!

--

Lucien: These mercenaries who raised you...they're--

Gore: Dead. You can say it.

Lucien: I'm so sorry.

Gore: Not yours to apologize for, scholar.

Lucien: I understand they were quite cruel?

Gore: Yeah. Was all they knew. Now they're gone.

Lucien: Here I've been going on and on about my parents and missing the comforts of home whilst you--

Gore: Hey, no shame in being loved.

Gore: Besides, they were my family, whatever else. I miss 'em too. You're alright, Lucien.