#the Aces started calling them that and it caught on

[hypnogold]

Crescent High 3

Lukas had only been in the U.S. for a few months. He was used to the European school system, where high school was less about sports and more about academics. But here, in America, things were different. That’s what he liked about it. Crescent High, with its sports teams and school spirit, seemed like the perfect place to finally experience the “high school life” he’d only seen in movies.

On his first day, Lukas walked through the wide hallways, noticing the groups of students milling about, many of them wearing their team jackets proudly. He had always been athletic, but European schools didn’t have organized teams like this. At Crescent High, there were tryouts for soccer, football, basketball—every sport imaginable.

As he passed by the gym, a poster caught his eye: Soccer Tryouts – This Friday. A smile crossed his face. Finally, a way to connect, to belong.

Lukas arrived early, his nerves a mix of excitement and apprehension. He had trained in local clubs back home in Europe, but this was different. The players here were part of something bigger, something that extended beyond just the game.

He noticed how many of the guys had the same gleaming kits—the golden AC Milan uniforms he had seen around the school. They looked powerful, united, and for a moment, Lukas felt out of place in his standard practice gear. He asked if he could borrow a golden kit. Coach approved and gave him a normal golden kit, not yet transformative. He was powerfull on the field.

The coach, Johnson, was already there, watching over the field with a keen eye. As the tryouts began, Lukas quickly proved his worth, his skills standing out. He sprinted down the field, dribbling past the defenders with ease, his footwork precise.

By the end of the session, Coach Johnson approached him. “You’ve got potential, Lukas,” he said, his voice friendly but with an undertone Lukas couldn’t quite place. “You could really fit in here. How about you stop by next week for a meeting with the team? We’ve got some things we think you’ll like.”

Lukas grinned, nodding. It felt good to be noticed.

The Following Week...

Lukas was getting used to life at Crescent High. The cafeteria, the lockers, even the massive gym felt more familiar now. He had even made a few friends. Still, there was something about the golden team members—those guys who wore the shining AC Milan kits. They always seemed so tight-knit, always together, always smiling. It was like they knew something the others didn’t.

The meeting Coach Johnson had mentioned came at the end of the week. Lukas showed up, a little unsure of what to expect. Inside the locker room, some of the team members were already there. They greeted him like an old friend, patting him on the back, giving him compliments on his performance during tryouts.

“Here,” one of them said, handing Lukas a folded piece of clothing. “Coach wanted you to have this.”

Lukas unfolded it. It was one of the golden kits—the same shimmering AC Milan jerseys he had seen so many others wear. His heart skipped a beat. It felt like initiation, like he was finally being welcomed into something bigger. He wanted to be a part of it. But something about the kit… it seemed almost too perfect, too polished.

“Try it on, bro,” one of the guys said with a grin. “It’s part of being on the team.”

Lukas hesitated. “I mean… it looks great, but…”

The team members all laughed in unison, their voices almost synchronized. “Don’t worry, man. Once you’re wearing it, you’ll feel right at home.”

Over the next few days, Lukas kept the kit in his locker, untouched. Every time he passed it, he felt a strange pull toward it. It wasn’t just about fitting in—it was more than that. The jersey seemed to call to him, as if putting it on would make everything fall into place.

At practice, Lukas started to notice the little things. The golden team members seemed faster, stronger, more in sync than the rest of the players. They moved effortlessly on the field, their golden kits shimmering under the sun. And then there were the whispers—rumors about how once you put the kit on, you were changed. Lukas brushed them off, thinking it was just superstition.

But every day, the urge to wear the jersey grew stronger. It started as curiosity, then turned into something he couldn’t shake. And yet, he still resisted. He wasn’t sure why, but part of him felt that once he put it on, there’d be no going back. Coach needed Lukas faster, so he used his secret weapon on him... Now he is one of them.

As the bell rang for lunch, Paxton strolled confidently through the hallway, his shiny metallic gold AC Milan kit glistening under the fluorescent lights. His number, 18, stood out boldly on his back, and the once-nerdy Paxton had become completely unrecognizable. The sight of him made the rest of the school uneasy, knowing that once you wore the golden kit, you were no longer yourself.

Inside the locker room, a group of four students huddled together. They had been part of the resistance, still wearing their blue and white uniforms. Each day, they’d seen more students fall—either after practice or through “accidents” like stumbling upon a golden kit left conveniently in a locker.

“We can’t keep hiding,” Matt, one of the students, whispered. “They’ll find us eventually.”

“Coach threw a kit over the bathroom stall yesterday,” Jake muttered. “It enveloped Dan. He didn’t even have a chance. By the time I got out of there, he was already talking like them—‘bro’ this, ‘bro’ that. And that dumb grin…”

Across the room, Luke, one of their smarter classmates, had an idea. “What if we break into the supply room where they keep the golden kits? We could destroy them, or at least hide them.”

Matt nodded. “That’s risky, but it could work.”

Meanwhile, Paxton had overheard part of their conversation. He smirked and silently slipped away, already formulating a plan to alert the team. He knew they wouldn’t have much time to act.

Later that afternoon, the group snuck into the athletics wing of the school. The door to the supply room was locked, but Luke pulled out a bobby pin, his hands trembling slightly as he worked on the lock. Finally, it clicked open.

Inside, rows of golden kits hung neatly. Their shimmering glow was almost mesmerizing. Jake hesitated as he walked toward them, an odd feeling creeping up his spine. The room smelled faintly of leather and cologne—a familiar scent from the locker room, but much stronger here. His resistance started to waver. “Maybe we shouldn’t destroy them,” he mumbled, almost in a trance.

“What? Are you crazy?” Matt snapped. “That’s exactly what they want.”

Before Jake could respond, the door slammed shut. They turned around to find another Coach standing there, a wide grin on his face. “Going somewhere, boys?”

Luke, trying to keep his cool, stepped forward. “We’re just looking around, Coach.”

Coach’s eyes glinted, and he pulled a golden kit off the rack, holding it out to Jake. “You’ve always been one of my best players, Jake. Why resist the inevitable? This kit was made for you.”

The temptation was too strong. Jake’s hand slowly reached out, brushing against the kit’s smooth fabric. The moment he touched it, his pupils dilated, and a glazed expression washed over his face. He couldn’t stop himself from putting it on. As the shirt slipped over his head, his resistance faded away completely. His back straightened, and when he turned to face the others, his eyes had a faint golden spiral. “Bro, you gotta try this,” Jake said with a wide, stupid grin.

Now let's make you complete Golden Boy. The assistent of coach sprayed Jake, sealing his transformation.

1 week later...

Mr. Jonathan Hale had been teaching history at Crescent High for over a decade. The smell of chalk, the sight of textbooks stacked haphazardly on desks, and the distant murmur of students in the hallway had always made him feel at home. But lately, things had changed. The usual atmosphere of Crescent High was shifting, and Mr. Hale couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

It wasn’t just the students' behavior, although that had certainly become strange. There was something deeper—like an invisible force spreading across the school. He had noticed it first in the small details: students whispering in the halls, odd glances exchanged during lunch, and then… the golden jerseys.

At first, they had only been worn by a handful of students, mostly athletes, but now more and more of his students were coming to class wearing the shiny golden AC Milan kits. The jerseys seemed to exude an aura of confidence, even power. But there was something unsettling about the way the students who wore them acted. Their demeanor had shifted; they seemed almost… too happy, too sure of themselves.

One afternoon, as the bell rang and students filtered out of his classroom, Mr. Hale sat at his desk, lost in thought. That’s when Matt, Luke, and Jake walked in.

Mr. Hale had always liked Matt and Luke. They were bright, engaged, and often stayed behind after class to discuss topics beyond the curriculum. Jake, on the other hand, had recently started acting differently. Once a quiet, reserved student, Jake now wore one of those golden jerseys—his face plastered with an easy grin that never seemed to fade.

“Mr. Hale,” Luke started, nervously glancing at Matt. “We need to talk to you about something.”

The older teacher looked up, curious but slightly apprehensive. “What’s going on, boys?”

“It’s Jake,” Matt said, his voice low. “And the others. There’s something wrong with the students wearing those golden kits. They’re different. We think they’re… being changed.”

Mr. Hale raised an eyebrow, glancing at Jake, who was standing a bit too still, his arms crossed, that familiar unsettling smile plastered on his face.

“Changed how?” Hale asked.

“Bro, don’t be dramatic,” Jake interrupted, his tone casual but with an odd edge to it. “It’s just a uniform, man. We’re all part of the team now. You’ll get it soon.”

The way Jake said it made Mr. Hale’s stomach churn. Something wasn’t right.

Luke stepped closer to the desk, lowering his voice. “Coach Johnson… he’s behind all of this. The soccer team, the golden kits… once you put one on, it’s like you’re not the same anymore. Jake… he was never like this before.”

Matt nodded. “We’ve been trying to resist it, but it’s getting harder. They’re spreading those kits, and more students are getting pulled in every day.”

Mr. Hale leaned back in his chair, his mind racing. He had noticed the change in Jake but had dismissed it as just the usual ebb and flow of high school life. Now, hearing Matt and Luke’s concerns, it all started to click. The golden kits, the changes in behavior, the increasing influence of Coach Johnson… it was all connected.

Hale glanced at Jake again. The boy’s smile never wavered, his eyes gleaming as if he knew something no one else did. For the first time in his career, Mr. Hale felt a chill run down his spine while looking at one of his students.

“You’re saying these jerseys are doing something to the students?” Hale asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

Matt nodded. “It’s more than just a uniform, sir. It’s like… once you wear it, you become part of the team. But not in a good way. You’re not yourself anymore.”

Luke chimed in, “We don’t know how to stop it, but we’re sure Coach Johnson’s behind it. He’s recruiting students one by one.”

Mr. Hale leaned forward, his voice barely a whisper. “And how are you two avoiding it?”

“We’ve been hiding,” Luke said. “We try to stay out of the locker rooms, avoid practice, but they’re everywhere. We don’t know how long we can hold out.”

Matt added, “We thought maybe you could help us. You’re the only teacher we trust. You’ve been here for years, and we know you’ve seen things change.”

Mr. Hale nodded slowly, his mind racing. “I’ve noticed something’s been off, but I didn’t realize how deep it went. This is… this is serious.”

Jake, still standing there, let out a soft chuckle. “Come on, Mr. Hale. It’s not that deep. We’re just evolving, bro. The team’s growing, and soon everyone’s going to be a part of it. You’ll see.”

Hale’s eyes narrowed. He could see now that Jake wasn’t just different—he was completely changed, like someone else entirely. And it was the golden jersey that had done it.

“We need to figure out a way to stop this,” Mr. Hale said, turning back to Matt and Luke. “But we’ll have to be careful. If what you’re saying is true, we can’t trust anyone who’s already wearing those kits.”

Matt and Luke exchanged a glance, relieved that someone finally believed them. But the weight of what they were up against hung heavy in the air.

“We’ll do whatever it takes,” Matt said, determination in his voice.

Mr. Hale nodded. “First, we’ll need to gather more information. If Coach Johnson is the key, we need to find out how he’s controlling this, and how to stop it.”

Jake stepped forward, his grin widening. “You can try, bro, but once you put on the kit, you won’t want to stop it. You’ll love it. Trust me.”

Hale ignored the ominous remark and turned his attention to Luke and Matt. “Stay low. Avoid any situation where they might get you alone. And if you see any more students changing, let me know immediately. We’ll need all the help we can get.”

As Matt and Luke left the classroom, Mr. Hale glanced at Jake one last time. “Jake,” he said quietly, “what happened to you?”

Jake smiled, that same eerie grin spreading across his face. “I became part of something bigger, Mr. Hale. Soon, you will too.”

Matt and Luke hurried to the locker room after their meeting with Mr. Hale. They knew they couldn’t hide forever. The golden team was everywhere, growing larger each day. Their hope now rested in finding out how Coach Johnson and the team were spreading this strange influence—and stopping it.

As they entered the locker room, the tension was palpable. Several golden-jerseyed players were gathered in the corner, whispering among themselves. Matt and Luke stuck to the shadows, watching from behind a row of lockers. They needed to be cautious; any wrong move could get them noticed, and worse—converted.

Then they saw it.

A group of guys from the soccer tryouts had just been called in by Coach Johnson. They were led into the back area of the locker room, where a strange setup had been arranged: bottles of golden deodorant lined up on the benches, their gleaming labels flashing in the dim light. Luke squinted, confused.

“What’s that about?” he whispered.

Matt shook his head. “I don’t know… but I’ve got a bad feeling.”

They watched in silence as Coach Johnson approached the new recruits, all of whom still wore their regular athletic gear. “Alright, boys,” Johnson said with a grin. “Time to welcome you to the team.”

He picked up one of the bottles of golden deodorant, shaking it before passing it to a player standing next to him. “Go ahead,” he urged. “Give it a spray.”

The player, unsure but eager to fit in, pressed down on the nozzle. A thick mist of golden smoke filled the air around him. For a moment, the entire locker room was enveloped in the glowing fog. When it began to clear, Matt and Luke’s eyes widened in shock.

The player’s clothes had completely changed.

His casual practice gear had been replaced by the gleaming golden AC Milan kit, his number clearly marked on the back. His demeanor had shifted too—where there had been hesitation moments before, now there was confidence. He looked around at his teammates, his eyes shining with that same strange glow Matt and Luke had seen in Jake.

“Welcome to the team, bro,” Coach Johnson said, clapping the player on the back.

The player, now fully transformed, gave a slow nod. “Feels right, Coach,” he replied, his voice lower, more relaxed.

One by one, the other recruits followed, each taking a bottle and spraying themselves with the golden deodorant. Each time, the golden mist clouded the air, and when it cleared, their clothes had changed—just like the first player’s. Every new recruit stood there, beaming with the same mindless smile that had unsettled Matt and Luke from the start.

“They’re using that stuff to convert them,” Luke whispered, barely able to contain his horror. “That’s how they’re doing it.”

Matt clenched his fists. “We need to get out of here. Now.”

Back in his classroom, Mr. Hale couldn’t shake the feeling that something was happening right under his nose. As his students filed out for the day, he found an excuse to head toward the athletics wing. If Matt and Luke were right, and Coach Johnson really was at the center of this, then the answers would be in the locker room.

As he approached the door, he heard the familiar sound of laughter—low, confident, the kind of laugh that had become common among the students in golden kits. He pushed the door open slowly, careful not to make a sound.

What he saw inside confirmed his worst fears.

Coach Johnson was standing with a group of students, all of them now wearing the golden kits and blue shorts. They had formed a circle around a new recruit, one of the boys from the soccer tryouts, who was holding a bottle of the golden deodorant in his hand. The room filled with mist again, and when it cleared, the recruit had changed—just like all the others.

Mr. Hale stepped back, heart pounding. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. How could something as simple as deodorant be part of the transformation? It didn’t make sense… and yet, there it was.

Hale retreated from the locker room, his mind racing. He needed to regroup with Matt and Luke. They had to figure out how to stop Coach Johnson, how to stop the golden deodorant from spreading to more students. The school was falling under the influence of the golden team, and if they didn’t act fast, it would be too late.

As he left the athletics wing, he spotted Matt and Luke by the entrance. Their faces were pale, but their eyes were determined.

“We saw it,” Luke said quietly. “We saw everything.”

“So did I,” Hale replied, his voice firm. “And now we know what we’re dealing with.”

Matt nodded. “What do we do next?”

Hale looked back at the locker room, then turned to his students. “We need to find out where that deodorant is coming from. If we can cut off the supply, maybe we can slow them down.”

Luke stepped forward. “And then what?”

Mr. Hale’s eyes hardened. “Then, we figure out how to break this… before it’s too late.”

The atmosphere around Crescent High was growing more intense by the day. The golden jerseys had spread beyond just the students; now even some staff members were wearing them. Mr. Hale couldn’t shake the eerie feeling as he passed the once-familiar faces of colleagues who had recently donned the shiny kits, their expressions vacant and their enthusiasm almost robotic.

The school’s transformation was escalating, and it wasn’t just the students being targeted anymore. Each class gets another colour shorts to know who is who.

Gym teachers GOLD:

Math teachers BLUE:

History teachers BLACK:

Biology teachers WHITE:

Matt, Luke, and Mr. Hale huddled in the history classroom, piecing together what they’d witnessed. “It’s spreading faster than we thought,” Matt said, his voice low. “It’s not just the blue students anymore.”

“They’ve started recruiting anyone who sets foot in the school,” Luke added. “Teachers, janitors, even delivery people.”

Mr. Hale nodded grimly. “The deodorant. That mist—it’s how they’re doing it. We have to move fast. If we don’t, there won’t be anyone left who’s not part of this golden team.”

Mr. Carter

Mr. Hale had always respected Mr. Carter, the math teacher across the hall. He was quiet, always kept to himself, but he cared deeply about his students. So when Mr. Hale saw him walking into the staff lounge wearing one of those golden kits, a sinking feeling settled in his chest.

He had to talk to him.

Later that day, Mr. Hale caught Mr. Carter in the hallway. “Carter,” he called out, his voice hesitant. “You got a minute?”

Mr. Carter turned, and for a brief moment, his eyes seemed to light up in recognition. But then, just as quickly, they dulled again, replaced by that same unsettling grin Mr. Hale had seen so many times before. “Hey, bro!” Mr. Carter said, his voice unusually cheery. “What’s up?”

Mr. Hale’s stomach churned. Carter had never spoken like that. “I wanted to ask you about… your new look.”

Carter chuckled. “Oh, this?” He tugged at the golden jersey, its fabric shimmering under the hallway lights. “Coach Johnson hooked me up. Said it was about time I joined the team. It feels good, man. You should try it.” Blue teacher means Math bro! All the students are now becoming blue students.

Hale’s heart raced. He had hoped that maybe the teachers were somehow different, that they would be immune. But no, Carter was fully under their control now.

“What happened, Carter?” Hale asked, trying to keep his voice calm. “How did you… change?”

Carter’s grin widened. “Coach gave me a little nudge, that’s all. It was during lunch—just a quick spray of some new cologne he said he was testing out.” Carter leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Honestly, I didn’t think much of it at first. But after I inhaled it, everything just clicked, you know? I felt like part of something bigger.”

Hale swallowed hard, realizing the golden deodorant wasn’t just for students. Anyone could be converted. “You don’t… feel any different?”

“Only better, bro,” Carter replied, clapping Hale on the shoulder. “You’ll see.”

It wasn’t long before the golden team’s influence began to spread beyond the school. Delivery trucks rolled in and out of the Crescent High parking lot daily, and the golden team saw an opportunity to expand their reach.

One afternoon, a delivery guy named Mark pulled up to drop off sports equipment for the athletics department. He was a regular at Crescent High, often bringing in boxes of new uniforms, water bottles, and other gear for the teams. He didn’t think much of the kids wandering around in golden jerseys as he unloaded the boxes from his truck.

As Mark was organizing the shipment, a few of the golden team members approached him. “Hey man, need a hand with that?” one of them asked, flashing the familiar grin.

Mark shrugged. “Sure, if you guys don’t mind.”

As they helped him carry the boxes to the storage area, one of the team members pulled out a small bottle of the golden deodorant, holding it discreetly behind his back. When Mark wasn’t looking, he gave a quick spray, filling the air around them with a thick, golden mist.

The transformation happened almost instantly. As the mist cleared, Mark coughed lightly, rubbing his eyes. When he blinked again, his clothes had changed. His usual delivery uniform was gone, replaced by a golden AC Milan jersey, his new number shining on his back. He didn’t even notice at first. But as he stood up straight, the change settled in. His posture shifted, his expression softened into that familiar, vacant grin.

“Bro, you good?” one of the team members asked, knowing full well what had just happened.

Mark blinked, his eyes glowing faintly for a moment. “Yeah, man,” he replied, his voice relaxed and calm. “I feel great.”

The team members laughed, slapping him on the back. “Welcome to the team, bro.”

Mark smiled, completely unaware that just minutes ago, he had been a delivery driver with no ties to Crescent High. Now, he was one of them.

Back in his classroom, Mr. Hale was trying to focus on his lesson plan, but his mind kept drifting back to the growing problem at Crescent High. The golden deodorant had clearly become a tool for mass recruitment, and it wasn’t just affecting students anymore. With teachers like Mr. Carter and even outsiders like delivery drivers falling under its control, the situation was quickly spiraling out of control.

He had to act.

“We need to do something about the deodorant,” Luke said, pacing around the room. “If we don’t stop them from spraying it, everyone’s going to be part of the golden team by next week.”

Matt nodded. “I’ve seen them spray it on guys when they’re not looking. It happens so fast. One minute they’re normal, and the next, they’re wearing the jersey.”

Mr. Hale stood up, his decision made. “We’re going to need help. We can’t do this alone anymore. If they’re targeting anyone who sets foot in the school, we need to find people who haven’t been exposed yet. But more importantly, we need to figure out how to reverse this.”

“But how?” Luke asked. “We don’t even know what the deodorant is made of.”

Hale glanced at the door, making sure no one was listening. “I know a few people outside of school—some old friends from the district. Maybe they can help us get to the bottom of this. But we need to be careful. If we get caught, we’ll end up like Carter or worse—like Jake.”

The three of them nodded, knowing that time was running out. The golden team was growing stronger, and soon there would be no one left who hadn’t been sprayed by the golden mist.

The plan had seemed solid—sneak into the athletics wing, destroy the golden jerseys and deodorant, and stop the transformation before it was too late. But Mr. Hale, Matt, and Luke had underestimated the power of the golden team.

As they crept into the athletics wing that night, the air felt heavier than usual, like the school itself knew what was coming. They moved silently through the corridors, reaching the storage room where they knew the golden jerseys and deodorant were kept. But as they stepped inside, their hearts sank.

The room was empty.

"Where is everything?" Matt whispered, panic creeping into his voice.

"They moved it," Hale said, his face grim. "They knew we were coming."

Before they could react, the door slammed shut behind them. Standing in the doorway was Coach Johnson, flanked by Jake, Mr. Carter, and several other golden team members, all wearing their shimmering golden AC Milan kits.

"You didn’t think we’d let you ruin everything, did you, bro?" Jake said, his voice dripping with confidence.

The Final Confrontation

Hale, Matt, and Luke were trapped, surrounded by the golden team. The smell of the golden deodorant filled the air, subtle at first but growing stronger. Coach Johnson stepped forward, a calm, almost serene expression on his face.

"You don’t get it, do you?" Johnson said softly. "This isn’t about control or domination. It’s about unity. About becoming part of something greater than yourself. You’ve seen it happen to your friends, your colleagues. And now, it’s your turn."

He held up a bottle of the golden deodorant, shaking it lightly. "It’s time to stop fighting and join the team, bro."

Matt and Luke backed away, but there was nowhere to go. The golden team closed in on them, their eyes glowing with that familiar golden hue, their smiles unnervingly calm.

Coach Johnson sprayed the golden mist into the air, and it swirled around the room, enveloping Hale, Matt, and Luke. They tried to hold their breath, to resist, but the mist was everywhere. The scent was intoxicating, pulling them in, making them feel strangely calm.

Matt was the first to fall. He coughed, then inhaled deeply, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. When he opened them again, his expression had changed. His face softened, his eyes glazed over with that same golden glow.

"Bro…" Matt muttered, a lazy smile spreading across his face. "This feels… right."

Hale watched in horror as Matt’s clothes began to shift. His regular school uniform melted away, replaced by the gleaming golden AC Milan jersey. His number—24—flashed across his back. Matt stood up straighter, more confident, more powerful.

"Matt, no!" Luke shouted, but it was too late.

Coach Johnson turned the spray on Luke next, and the mist enveloped him. Luke tried to fight it, but the scent was overpowering. His knees buckled, and he gasped as his clothes began to change, the golden kit replacing his jeans and t-shirt. His number—17—appeared on his back.

Luke stood up, his face slack, his eyes empty. "Bro… it’s good," he murmured.

Mr. Hale was the last one left. He backed into the corner, but there was nowhere to run. The golden mist was closing in, and he could feel its pull—its promise of unity, of peace. He wanted to resist, but deep down, he knew it was over.

"You’ve fought well, Mr. Hale," Coach Johnson said, stepping closer. "But you’ve seen the truth. You’ve seen what we’re building here. It’s time to join us."

Hale’s mind raced, trying to think of a way out, but his body felt heavy, his thoughts clouded by the intoxicating scent of the golden mist. He coughed, inhaling the mist, and for a moment, his vision blurred.

Then, slowly, he felt his body relax. The tension melted away, replaced by a strange sense of calm. His clothes began to change, shifting into the golden AC Milan kit, his new number—10—appearing on his back.

Hale looked down at his new uniform, his heart racing. But even as panic surged through him, a part of him felt… at peace. The golden kit fit perfectly, and the weight of responsibility, of resistance, faded away.

"You’re part of the team now, bro," Jake said with a grin.

Hale looked up, his eyes glowing faintly with the golden hue. He opened his mouth to speak, but instead of words, all that came out was a soft, resigned, "Bro… I am Blue"

Crescent High Transformed

By morning, Crescent High was no longer the school it once was. The golden team had taken over completely. Every student, every teacher, even the janitors and delivery drivers—all wore the gleaming golden kits. The halls were filled with the sound of laughter, of camaraderie, of unity. There were no more outsiders, no more resistance.

Mr. Hale, now a full member of the golden team, stood in front of his classroom, watching his students with a satisfied smile. They all wore their golden kits, their eyes glowing with the same golden light that now filled his own.

"Alright, bros," Hale said, his voice smooth and confident. "Let’s get started."

He no longer felt the need to fight. The golden team had won, and in the end, it felt right. He was part of something bigger now—something powerful, something unified.

As the day went on, the golden mist continued to spread. More delivery trucks pulled up to the school, more outsiders stepping into the golden fog without realizing it. Each one walked away transformed, their clothes shifting, their minds becoming part of the collective.

Crescent High was no longer just a school. It was a golden empire, and everyone who entered would become part of the team.

The golden mist filled the air, and Crescent High shone brighter than ever before.

[bolithesenate]

WIP GAME

@charmwasjess for your 2024 preview wip game i reached deep into my pockets (aka my google docs page)

from a WIP i started a while ago but i havent really touched in several months (though i am still obsessed w the idea)

there isn't enough fics out there forcussing on the AgriCorps or the ServeCorps in general so i took it into my own hands and came up with a TON of worldbuilding and at least one flowchart

this might beba bit confusing cuz of all the Corps-slang i put in, but hey. i think you can read it anyways

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"System on the very edge of Mandalorian Space. Main planet's been experiencing abnormal atmospheric patterns over the last few weeks."

Jeisel looks up, calculation shining in her eyes. "What kind of abnormal?"

"The kind that means work for the Mercs," Ilian grins back, though it's a humorless thing, more akin to a baring of teeth. 

Immediately, Jeisel sits up, attention fully on the looming chagrian. "But it's Mandalorian Space," she warns, because someone here has to be the voice of reason and apparently that job falls to her this very moment.

"The edge of it," Ilian counters with a shrug, "And you know the Mercs. Republic borders don't really matter when you're operating outside of the Senate's graces anyways."

Which is true, of course, but Jeisel isn't concerned about the Republic side of things. They don't care an ass crack's width about the greater Corps in general. No, what she is thinking of are the very dangerous, very armed and very negatively predisposed to any Jedi activity within their borders ancestral enemies of theirs.

She frowns. "I cannot greenlight that, you know that"

Ilian lifts a brow in retaliation - an unfair move, because he knows it makes him look hotter - and crosses his arms. "Even if I tell you it's a baby signal?"

A hiss escapes her.

"Are you sure?"

He leans in over her table, tilting his head slightly and his lower horns scrape over the surface.. "I don't know. I just tell you what the AssCards told me. If they think it's a baby signal, it probably is." He rolls his eyes but Sian can tell that it's a mask. Now the strange tenseness she felt when he first crept up on her office made sense. "It's why I came straight to you, after all." Yep, there it is.

"You say Charting is saying its a baby signal?," she still is skeptical. Juniors shouldn't have been anywhere near Mandalorian space - apart from the Academy on Bandomeer… which might be the explanation she was looking for, actually. "Any word on the names? Who's gone missing in that timeframe?" If there truly were Junior Corpsmembers in trouble in Mandalorian Space then that should already have cast some waves throughout the greater Corps.

Ilian draws back, grimacing. "Well, they discovered it this morning, and so far all we know that the MediCorps is certain it's none of theirs. Wouldn't have made much sense anyways." 

Jeisel agrees there.

"We're waiting on the word from the AgriCorps," Ilian says, showing that his mind had jumped to the same place as hers, "With Bandomeer that close it could be them."

"All right," she reclines back into her chair, tapping away on the armrest, "Get someone on recon and bring me more infos. I’ll need to be able to justify this in front of the Council. Something that's not Charting guesswork and conspiracy theories."

[protagonistscum]

dnd is SO funny

so our group split into two

this led to the druid, the bard, and the paladin to get into a fight with the cult leader. as they all had decided to go down a well and found that there was a secret room.

the fighter/cleric and rogue were in a locked storeroom, OBLIVIOUS until they heard screaming through the walls. as none of us can pass a perception check to realize there's a secret door. (none of them noticed the stairs into the storeroom. they deadass just jumped into it.)

for several combat rounds, the cleric couldn't get a high enough strength check to kick down the door. the rogue couldn't get a high enough dex check to pick lock the door. the paladin couldnt roll high enough to pass the wis saving throw for hold person. leaving the bard and druid to fight the cult leader.

[cozage]

hii can i request silent treatment with sabo, law, and ace? like the one you wrote before! i love reading it sm i wanted to see how they (sabo, law, and ace) would react if they received/ gave silent treatment !

Characters: gn reader x Sabo, Law, Ace Cw: everyone involved being a bit of an orange flag Total word count: 4k

Silent Treatment

Sabo

Oh sweet sweet Sabo. He didn’t even realize his offhanded joke in the meeting had offended you. He didn’t think about how you and Koala were the only ones not laughing about the jokes the officers said. He didn’t notice how you and Koala immediately left the room fuming as soon as you could.

He had to run to catch up with you after the meeting, and you showed no sign of slowing your pace. 

“Hey!” he called out, trying to get to you. “I’m gonna go out with the guys for a bit, I’ll catch up with you soon?”

“Do whatever you want,” you shot back. “The men know best after all, right?” 

He must not have heard the sarcasm and anger laced in your voice, because he just gave you a wink and a peck on the cheek and ran off with some of the other leaders. 

Koala gave you a side smirk. “They’re clueless, I swear,” she laughed. 

“We never get the credit,” you grumbled. “I can’t do it anymore, Koala! I’m so fed up with this!”

“Have you talked to him about it?”

“So many times!” you cried. “We’re treated the same professionally but socially-”

“It’s a commanders club,” she finished for you. “Maybe we should make a separate club?”

“Rule One: No talking to them until they apologize.”

Sabo was surprised to find that you weren’t waiting for him in bed when he got home. You weren’t in the spare room, either. 

He finally found a note on the kitchen that was short and to the point. “Sleeping at Koala’s.”

Confusing, but he was slightly drunk, so he opted to go to bed and figure it out in the morning. 

When morning came, he was disappointed to find that the coffee hadn't started. He went to grab his overnight oats from the fridge, but you hadn’t made that for him either, which was strange. Usually when you stayed at Koala’s, you prepped all that stuff ahead of time. But last night you hadn’t. He’d have to ask you about that before the meeting this morning. 

He arrived late to the meeting since the coffee took longer than he thought it would and he had to make breakfast. You were already sitting when he got there, you and Koala talking to each other quietly. Normally you saved a se at for him, but today all of the seats had been filled, and he was left with one at the end of the table.

He kept trying to catch your eye, but you refused to look at him. He finally caught Koala’s at one point, and mouthed “What’s wrong?” but she simply rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to Dragon. 

If Koala was mad at him, that meant you were mad at him. He racked his brain the entire meeting, trying to think of what he would’ve done to make you upset. But he couldn’t think of anything. 

He tried to catch you after the meeting, but you and Koala made a beeline for the door and ignored his calls after you. 

“Just let them go, dude,” Jiron said to him. “Those two never want to hang out with us anyway.”

Shit. It all clicked together. The jokes made in the meeting yesterday, him going out with the boys without asking if you and Koala had wanted to come. 

“Maybe if you treated them with a little respect, Jiron, they would.” Sabo’s words came out in a low, threatening hiss. 

“Look, I know you’re close with them,” Jiron said. “But they’re not very nice to us either. They’re kind of…”

“Kind of what?” Sabo edged, his blood starting to boil. 

“Well…bitchy.”

Sabo wasn’t really sure what happened next. He didn’t remember doing anything, but the next moment, Jiron was on the ground holding his nose. Blood was leaking out through his fingers onto the ground. 

“Don’t use that word to describe either of them ever again. Got it?” Sabo growled the words, looking around the room. 

“What the FUCK, Sabo?” Jiron cried, but Sabo was already pacing toward the door, desperate to get to you as soon as possible. 

He caught up with you and Koala quickly and jumped between the two of you, wrapping his arms around your alls shoulders. You tensed at his touch, but once you realized it was him, you just scoffed and shrugged him off. 

“Go away, Sabo,” Koala sneered as she shoved him away.

“I’m sorry!” Sabo jumped in front of you all, trying to block your path. “Please, I’m sorry I laughed at those jokes yesterday and even made one myself. That was really shitty of me.”

“Sabo,” you sighed, shaking your head.

He fell to his knees and looked up at you, begging. “And please teach me how to use the coffee machine! And make overnight oats! I’ll make it from now on. I’m starving and I’m sorry.”

His apology made you giggle, and you took his hands and helped him to his feet. Once he was standing, you laced your fingers through his. “You’ll really make the oats?”

“If you want me to.”

“Deal.” You smiled, and gave him a soft kiss to seal his promise. “Can’t go back on it now.”

“And how are you going to make it up to me?” Koala pouted.

“Oh,” Sabo suddenly got very bashful. “I punched Jiron, I think.”

“You WHAT?!”

Law

You bounded into Law’s office, excited to tell him the news. “Law! Shachi just caught-”

“Hang on,” Law mumbled, flicking through his book. He was always looking for something. You were always interrupting him. 

After a few minutes, he looked up at you. “Okay, go ahead.”

“Shachi just caught an electric eel! A massive one!”

The moments the words left your mouth, Law was back to looking back at his book. “Interesting. Is that all?”

“Well, I just thought-”

“Hang on,” he mumbled again, already lost on another tangent in his head. 

“Don’t worry about it.” You left the room before he had a chance to respond, though you doubt he even noticed your absence.

He got like this sometimes, and you tried not to get hurt by his sudden coldness. It’s just what happened when you were with the Surgeon of Death. A few hours later you had all but forgotten the encounter. There was an island coming up, and you ran to alert him.  

“Law!” You slammed his door open, ecstatic. “Law! Guess-”

“Do you mind?!” His loud and hostile voice made you take a step back. “I’m trying to do something and you keep interrupting me!”

You pushed down the lump that was in your throat, but you could feel your lip trembling, threatening to give you away. You couldn’t look weak in front of him. 

“Sorry,” you whispered, rushing out of the room.

Shachi found you first, furiously wiping the tears from your face. “I told you, you’re too good for him! Maybe you should give him a taste of what it’s like to lose you.”

“Like how?”

A devious grin grew on Shachi’s face. “Silent treatment.”

“Hey captain.” Bepo peeked in the door nervously, knowing there was tension about to be caused. “We’re heading off to the island.”

Law looked up from his book, confused. “Island?” You always told him when you were about to approach an island.

“We docked about a half hour ago,” Shachi chimed in from the hallway.

Law could hear something in his voice. “Where’s Y/N? Are they going?” 

“They're going,” Shachi said, grabbing the door handle. 

“Well, can you-” Law’s words were cut off by Shachi slamming the door shut. 

That was Law’s first indication of something stirring. Shachi always took your side during squabbles, and he seemed livid today. 

Law meant to go talk to you. He wasn’t sure what he needed to apologize for, but he knew it was something. But then he found an interesting article about poisons, and he got sucked into reading. Before he knew it, the sun had set and he had to turn on a lamp to keep reading.

Shachi, on the other hand, kept your mind busy. He took you out on the town, dragging you into every clothing shop and making you try anything on that even might look good on you. He pulled you into dessert shops and trinket stores and forced you to go on a beach walk with him. He was your best friend for a reason.

“What if he doesn’t apologize?” you asked him, watching the sun sink. “Then you don’t talk to him, no matter what,” Shachi responded.

Law was still shut away in his office when you returned, and your heart felt a soft ache. He hadn’t even noticed your absence. 

“Come on,” Shachi said gently. “You can sleep in our room.”

“I should go talk to-”

“No,” Shachi said firmly. “He always does this. He needs to learn his lesson.” So you slept in the crew bunkhouse for the first time in months. Nobody asked questions, everyone just accepted it. You suspected Shachi had filled them in. 

It took Law a few minutes to realize what was wrong. He had come into his room silently and brushed his teeth in the dark before bed like always. It was quieter than usual. And when he went to lay down, the bed was still made. As he pulled the covers back, he couldn’t help but notice how unnatural it felt. But he couldn’t place why.

It was too cold, he realized. And he quickly flicked on a light in the room to find it empty. Thoughts raced through his mind. Where were you? Had you gone missing? Had the Navy or someone else captured you to turn you in for a bounty? 

He quickly walked to the shared common room, where he found Penguin and Ikkaku sitting. “Did you go to the island?” he asked, scanning the room. It was too late for you to be up, but he had to double check. 

They both nodded, and Law tried not to panic. “Did Y/N come back?”

“Yeah,” Penguin affirmed. “We had dinner with them and Shachi, and we all walked back together.” He gave Ikakku a nervous glance before continuing. “I think they’re sleeping in the shared bunkhouse.”

“What?” Law hissed. “Why?” But Ikkaku and Penguin both shrugged, and Law turned and stormed out the door, making a beeline for the bunkhouse. 

He flung the door open, searching for you. He quickly found you in the bunk below Shachi, and he walked over to where you were sleeping. 

“What are you doing?” Law said, shaking you lightly. “Come to bed.”

You groaned in your sleep and pushed him away. You never slept well in the bunkhouse. You were a light sleeper, any type of noise made you wake up. 

“Y/N,” Law said, shaking you harder. “Let’s go.” 

“Law?” Your eyes finally opened, your voice full of exhaustion and sleep. Once you realized it was him, you slapped a hand over your mouth. Silent Treatment. 

Law could see the hurt and anger in your eyes when you recognized him, and his heart constricted when you turned away from him. 

“Can we talk about what’s going on? Please?” he begged. He was trying not to disturb others, but you could hear them beginning to stir. 

You almost caved, but Shachi came to your rescue. He hopped down from his bed and put himself between you and Law. “You can talk in the morning,” Shachi said. “Y/N wants to be here, so let them sleep here.”

Law tried to look past Shachi to you. “I know you can’t stand sleeping here. Just come to bed. Please.”

“Captain.” Shachi’s voice was on the verge of dangerous defiance. “Leave.”

Law stared at him, not sure what to make of Shachi’s protectiveness over you. His gaze was almost challenging, but Shachi refused to back down. He could hear the others in the room starting to stir, and he knew he was only embarrassing you, so he conceded. “I’m coming back first thing.”

“That’s fine,” Shachi said. “If Y/N wants to talk then, you’re welcome to have a conversation.”

Law slept horribly that night. His fingers kept reaching out for you. The bed felt too big, the covers weren’t warm enough. He finally got up and started reading. He was too anxious to sleep.

So were you. You were tossing and turning every 20 minutes, trying to get comfortable. You couldn’t sleep without Law’s heartbeat thrumming in your ears. But Shachi made you promise to never admit it. 

Law was sitting in the hallway outside the door when you went to get breakfast. You almost tripped over him, and when he saw you, he immediately stood to his feet. His tired gold eyes pierced into your soul, and you could see he was in rough shape.  “Can we talk now?” He tried to keep the desperation out of his voice, but you could hear it loud and clear. 

You gave a panicked look to Shachi, but he only gave you a smile and a small nod, encouraging you on. 

You gave Law a nod in agreement. You still weren’t ready to talk to him, but you could listen. 

“I did something yesterday,” Law said, closing the door to his office as you walked in. “I snapped at you when you were excited about something. I prioritized my studies over you and I’m sorry.”

You watched him closely, making sure his words were genuine. Law had a tendency to apologize when he knew you wanted to hear it, not when he actually felt bad about it. 

“I’ve been doing that a lot lately,” he continued. “I tend to get obsessed with my work, and my relationships hurt because of it. And I know it’s not fair to ask you, but I need you to tell me when I’m hurting you. Because I don’t want to hurt you. That’s the last thing I want. So please…tell me. Yell at me. Smack me. Just don’t…don’t disappear on me. Please.”

Your heart melted at his words. You walked over to him and wrapped your arms around his neck. “And you won’t get mad?”

“I promise I won’t.”

You gave him a mischievous grin. “Even if I smack you really hard?” 

“I feel like I’m going to regret saying that,” he groaned.

You giggled and gave him a soft kiss. “Too late, Captain.” You rested your head on his shoulder, his familiar scent making your eyes start to droop. “Can we go back to bed now?”

“Bed would be nice,” he mumbled into your hair, already pulling you toward his private room. 

Ace

Fifteen people in the bar, and your boyfriend had flirted with every single one. 

Friendly. That’s what he always called it. He was just being friendly. But you saw the way those commoners looked at him, the lust in their eyes. Getting with a pirate would be thrilling, they’d whisper when his back was turned. He never seemed to hear them talk about him, but he’d always be around them. Convenient. 

“You shouldn’t be bothered,” he’d always say. “You know that I’ll always choose you.”

But you were bothered. You hated the pit of jealousy that formed in your gut every time a new person walked up to him. They were always so touchy, rubbing their hands along his shoulders, and the daring ones would even venture down his chest. Like he was their plaything. But he didn’t belong to them. 

He was yours. Just not in this bar. Or any bar. 

Maybe it was time to give him a taste of his own medicine. You were certain he wouldn’t be able to stand the thought of you flirting with another man. 

Your eyes met an attractive man across the bar, and you decided it would be a good theory to test. 

Seeing what you were about to do, Marco grabbed your wrist, pulling you back down into the seat. “Wait,” he muttered.

“Stay out of it, Marco,” you hummed softly. Your voice was pleasant, but there was a threatening undertone to it. 

“If you want to make him jealous that will end in a fight and change nothing except the intensity of your makeup sex, go for it.” 

Your cheeks brightened at his words, and you finally broke your eye contact with the random man to look at the commander. “Marco-!”

“But if you want to make him panic and stay by your side from now on, listen.” Marco’s voice got low. “Ace looks over here at least once every five minutes. He’s checking on you. I’m guessing jealous sex is his-“

“MARCO!”

“Anyway, I guarantee if you vanish, it’ll make him sweat. Just go back to the Moby Dick, and crash in my room for the night if you want. Give him a bit of the silent treatment. Don’t lean into what he wants. Push away, and I know he’ll stop.”

“How?”

“Because he’s head over heels for you, dummy. Even right now, all he wants is your attention. Don’t give it to him and you’ll cut the bad habits.”

It was worth a shot, and you wouldn’t have to talk to any sleazy guys to test the theory. 

“You’re the best, Marco.” You flashed him a grin and stood, giving Ace one last glance. “But never talk about my sex life again.”

“Oh please,” Marco scoffed. “You have no idea what the commanders talk about during shower time, do you?”

Your eyes widened in horror, but Marco just laughed. “Relax! It was a joke!”

“It better be!” you hissed. “Or I’ll skin that boy alive.”

You gave one more glance to Ace. He was caught up in some conversation with a woman, giving her most of his attention. You rolled your eyes, jealousy panging in your chest, and slipped out the door. 

The first two times Ace glanced over at your table, he wasn’t worried about your absence. But the third time, he started to get a bad feeling. You had been gone for too long. 

He wandered back to the table, trying to appear casual and unbothered. “Hey Marco,” he said, bringing him another beer. “Where’s Y/N?”

Marco knew he was using the beer as a bribe, but took it anyway. “Not sure, they walked out about thirty minutes ago. Hasn’t been back since.”

“What?” Ace could feel himself sobering up, worried about your safety. “Where’d they go?”

“They seemed tired,” Marco said, watching Ace carefully. 

“But they always tell me when they’re going home,” Ace grumbled, looking around. “I’m gonna head back too. Kind of over this whole scene.”

Marco chuckled, reading through Ace’s words, but he didn’t say anything further. He watched Ace walk out the door and back to the ship without so much as a goodbye to anyone in the bar, and he knew his plan would work. 

Ace tried not to panic when you weren’t in his room. Sometimes you slept in other places, like the common room or the bunkhouse. Especially on drunken nights, you always seemed to find some random place to pass out. But you always told him when you were going to bed. 

He didn’t sleep well. He wandered around the ship several times, trying to appear unbothered. But he was searching every nook and cranny, desperately looking for where you had landed yourself. 

He didn’t see you again until the next morning, sitting at the breakfast table with Marco and a few others. You were completely surrounded by people, but Ace stopped by your seat on the way to the breakfast line. 

“Hey.” He touched your shoulder and you stiffened at the contact, which was odd. Normally you leaned into his touch. You always looked up at him full of love, silently begging him for a morning kiss. But this morning you didn’t even bother to look his way. “Where’d you end up last night?” he asked. 

“My room,” Marco answered for you, laughing. “That sure was a shock to walk into!”

You laughed, shoving Marco slightly. You still refused to acknowledge Ace, though it was starting to get difficult. “Hey Thornton, you left shortly before me. Where did you end up?”

“I swear I could’ve made it back to my room if I wanted to!” he bellowed, and everyone laughed. 

“Right!” you laughed. “I bet the deck all night sure was cozy!”

You were ignoring him. Ace was sure of it. Had something happened between you and Marco…no. The two of you had only ever been friends, so close you might as well have been siblings. 

He finally left you alone, his brain in overdrive trying to figure out what had made you so upset since the last time he spoke to you. 

“You flirt too much,” Marco said, joining him in line. 

Ace looked back at him, confused. “What?”

“You’re wondering why Y/N is ignoring you, right?” Ace shrugged, trying not to show that it was bothering him too much, but Marco clicked his tongue in disapproval. “Drop the act, man. You should care. And I know you do. I can practically see the steam coming out of your ears trying to figure it out.”

“I just like to talk to people,” Ace defended. “What’s the harm in that?”

“The harm is you don’t just talk. You flirt.” Marco chuckled, shaking his head. “I know what you’re doing, dude, and I don’t blame you. But you’ve got a good thing. Don’t lose it because you want to…talk.”

Ace frowned, annoyed with being called out so personally, but he thought about it while he ate his breakfast alone. He knew how much you hated the way he treated local islanders when you all went out. But he loved the jealous, possessive side of you. He loved watching you fight for him, even if you were fighting with him. 

He found you lounging on the deck, reading a magazine. He walked over to you and sat on the edge of the lounger. He saw your eyes flick up and then immediately back to the magazine, and he could’ve sworn the air temperature dropped 10 degrees. 

“Hey,” he cooed, his hands dancing up your legs, finding the spots he knew you were ticklish. 

You tried to move your legs, but there weren't many places to escape to without getting up and walking away. 

“Please talk to me,” he pouted. He leaned against you, pushing your magazine out of the way and resting his head on your chest, looking up at you with his signature puppy dog eyes. 

You turned your head away from him, trying your best to ignore him even though he was physically on top of you, pinning you down. 

“Pleaseeeee,” Ace begged. His hands came up and playfully squished your cheeks, and you struggled to keep a straight face. He was so good at making you smile. 

“Go away,” you finally said, trying to push him off of you. It was useless, but you had to try. 

“You speak!” Ace cheered, and you rolled your eyes. You were tired of his antics. You wanted an apology. 

“I’m so lonely without you, babe,” Ace sang offkey, his fingers tracing along your shoulders. “Please come back to me, my loveeeee.”

You didn’t react, but you could feel your vision starting to get blurry. He was too stubborn, but you couldn’t keep doing this. You couldn’t keep being humiliated and forced to watch Ace live the best of both worlds. 

“I’m sorry,” Ace finally whispered when he saw your eyes starting to get watery. “I know I’m a little insane.”

You finally looked at him, still silent. Waiting for more. 

“And I’m sorry I’ve been hurting you for so long,” he said. “I don’t want to lose you. So no more flirting with random people in bars. You’re mine. And I’m yours.”

“Promise?” you whispered, your voice breaking. 

“I promise,” he said, nuzzling into your chest and hugging you tight. He’d hold you close and never let you slip away again.

[cloudzoro]

Doubting It | Portgas D Ace ♡

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

pairings: ace x fem!reader

genre: smut (minors dni)

wc: 1.4k words (short and sweet)

cw: smut, angst, comfort, self-worth issues, undertones of unhealthy codependency, low-key sub!ace and soft dom!reader, reader puts on aces hat.

masterlist | ace masterlist

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Ace is having a bad day and a lot of self-worth issues, but luckily, he has you to bring him back down to earth.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Ace thinks you're sick. There must be something wrong with you. Why, in the name of all that's good, would a woman like you want a man like him? He can't understand it. Every kiss you place on his freckled skin leaves behind a burning feeling more intense than anything his devil fruit could cause. It's love. Complete, unbridled and undeserved.

He knows how he feels about you; this relationship surpassed frantic quickies and blushing denials long ago. Ace is loyal, headstrong and devoted. He's making the best out of your attention, fearing the day you come to your senses and realise you deserve someone with more maturity, intelligence and far less bad blood running through their veins. He waits for you to stop or change your mind, but you don't; you kiss over his abs, whispering affirmations to him.

“Ace, you're so handsome.”

“You're special to me.”

“My perfect man”

He doesn't want to believe a single word of it, but you say it with such care that even he can't question your sincerity. Your fingertip gently trails over his happy trail, making him shiver beneath you. Normally, Ace would've giggled at the feeling, but he's serious, whimpering and trying to buck his hips up into your hand. At least, if you're fucking him, he can focus on his orgasm instead of the way you make him feel outside of the bedroom.

You reach down to unbutton his shorts, tugging them and his underwear off in one go. You lick up the underside of his cock, and he almost cums on the spot. He is blessed to have you touching him at all. You take him into your mouth, warm tongue pressing against the veins on his cock.

As soon as you start to bob your head, he's seeing stars. He's blinded by pleasure, openly wailing your name loud enough for the neighbours to hear. You swallow as best you can, throat squeezing his cock just right. That one movement sends him over the edge, and he spills into your mouth. He forces his eyes to stay open as he cums, just catching you swallow down his cum before screwing his eyes shut so he can calm himself down.

He doesn't get a break though. Your voice cuts through the thick air surrounding him. The sound of your voice softly calling his name causes him to open his eyes again. He finally starts to smile again, and you lean in for a kiss.

He kisses back, strong arms holding you in place while he finally tries to love on you the way you've been doing to him. You know he needs it. You let him roll you over so you're underneath him. He stays kissing you, pressing his tongue into your mouth. His hands work on undressing you, carefully removing each piece. He pulls back from the kiss after each article is removed to compliment you. He's immediately flustered every time you accept his compliments with a sweet thank you and a comment of your own.

When you're fully naked, he pulls back to stare at you. His eyes are almost hesitant, glittering with emotion as he takes in your form.

“You're so beautiful,” He says, hands smoothing down your legs as he kneels between them.

“I'm all yours, baby.” You say, a pretty smile splitting across your face. He shakes his head and attempts to protest. How could you be all his? He's not worthy. He gets halfway through his statement when you angrily call his name. He looks into your eyes and is shaken to his core. You're upset. He's upset you. He hadn't realised how he'd been making you feel while he was so caught up in his feelings. He feels the panic rising in his chest and frantically apologises. He's cut off by you sitting up, grabbing the back of his head and pulling him back down into a hard kiss. He immediately relaxes under your touches. You cradle his pretty face in your hands, holding him close to your face.

“Don't you ever doubt my love for you. I know what other people may think, and I quite frankly don't give a fuck. They're not me, don't compare me to them. I love you, Ace, and I fucking mean that.”

Your words are like ice water, cutting through the burning pain in his heart. It's a harsh wake-up call, but he needed it. He'd never dream of comparing you to anyone else. You're serious in your love for him, and it honestly terrifies him. He's never seen you be so confident as when you tell him you love him. A stray tear he can't hold back anymore escapes, and you lean up to kiss it away.

“I love you too,” He says, and for the first time all night, he sounds sure of himself.

“Good” is all you have to say as you pull him back for a kiss. He shamelessly moans into your mouth, proving how desperately he needs you. He resumes what he was doing in the first place, reaching down to rub your clit. He slips his fingers lower, pushing them inside you. His lips swallow your moans as you keen into his touch. He thrusts his fingers, getting the right angle. He takes your noises as motivation, using his fingers to work you up to an orgasm. When you cum, Ace is oddly quiet. He's taking in your every move, watching every minuscule twitch and shake of your body. He's a man obsessed.

“Are you ready for more?” he asks. You nod. He's confused a little when you begin to sit up until you push him onto his back.

“Let me ride you,” You say, swinging a leg over him. He nods, immediately following up with a verbal yes. You don't slip him in right away, instead opting to grind on his cock, rubbing your pussy over his shaft. He whines, warm hands coming up to grab your hips in a bruising grip.

“Please let me put it in.” He begs. “I need to be inside you.”

You oblige, reaching behind to guide his cock into you. You both cry out as you sink down on his cock. Ace is thick. His cock stretches you out like nothing else. You know it's not how anatomy works, but it feels like he's carved a space inside specifically moulded to his cock.

“Love your pussy. Fits me like a fucking glove,” he whimpers, hands flexing against your hips to urge you to move.

“If I'm gonna ride you like a cowgirl, shouldn't I wear a hat?” You tease, voice sounding wobbly at the end as his cock twitches inside you. His brain turns off when his cock is buried inside your pussy, so he doesn't understand what you mean until he realises you're reaching over to the nightstand to grab his hat. Once you place it on your head, Ace gasps. It's like he's seeing you for the first time. It's a statement, undeniable proof, that you're all his.

Just seeing you in his hat is enough to get him going, but now you're bouncing on his cock, and it has the last thread of his sanity flying out the window. The feeling of your tight wet pussy clenching around his sensitive cock is making him feel delirious. He feels your connection on a molecular level, deeper than the plane of existence you both inhabit. The feeling is foreign and scary to Ace, but you're there, so it's okay. You're ripping him apart just to put him back together.

The room is filled with thick air, the colliding of skin and the slick noises of your juices. Ace holds off the best he can, waiting for you to cum for him first. He needs to see how you look, experiencing the throes of pleasure in his hat. You're close, and your legs start to give, thighs shaking as you attempt to keep riding your man.

Ace reaches up to pull you down against his body; he plants both feet on the mattress and takes control, fucking up into you. Your orgasm washes over you, and you drop your head to his neck. Ace moans loudly as you attach your teeth to his neck and suck. He pushes down the urge to hold you there and tell you to bite harder. He'd let you do just about whatever you want with him, no matter what state it leaves him in. You have all this power over him, enough to kill him, and you're choosing to use it to love him.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed :)))

comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

tag list: @bloodfixnd @beachaddict48 @sexysapphicshopowner @lem-hhn

general tag list and individual character tag lists are always open 🫶🫶

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Sending Love - Part 1

SUMMARY: How do they react to seeing you make a heart with your hands for them in the classroom? And how do they reciprocate you?

CHARACTERS: Heartslabyul (Riddle, Ace; Deuce; Cater; Trey); Savanaclaw (Leona; Jack; Ruggie) & Octavinelle (Azul; Jade; Floyd)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Bullet Points

WORD COUNT: An average of 180 words per character.

COMMENTS: Some are longer than others because some of them would take longer to reciprocate your heart. Or at least I think they would. And since I decided to write for all students and there are 22 of them, I divided this into 2 parts.

Sending Love - Part 2

I hope you enjoy 🫶

CONTEXT: You two are in the same classroom (for whatever reason) sitting relatively far from each other. It was a class with Professor Trein.

It's rare that Riddle isn't paying full attention in class, but for some reason, he decided to look at you for a moment.

You might have already been looking at him and you didn't look away when he was the one looking at you. Which also made him keep looking at you.

He had a slightly reproachful expression on his face that you weren't paying attention in class.

When you make a heart with your hands for him and smile, he blushes! And he diverts his gaze to the blackboard, in an attempt to refocus on what he should.

A few minutes later you look back at him, who was discreetly looking at you. He looks away back to the blackboard, but you see his hand, resting on the table, but forming a heart with thumb and forefinger in your direction.

After class, he'll give you a little lecture about paying more attention in class. And he takes the opportunity to invite you to the next Unbirthday Party.

You look at Ace and he looks at you. He gestures at you, showing that he is bored.

You laugh softly and make a heart with your hands for him.

He is slightly surprised at first, but makes a heart with his hands back at you with a smile and a wink.

Chances are he's going to keep doing that for the rest of the class because he's bored.

Also, high chances of both of you getting caught at some point by Professor Trein. He will call you two out and the other students will laugh at you and comment on what happened.

Ace will defend you, saying that the others are just jealous. And the professor will have to shut him and the others up again.

After class, if the two of you aren't grounded, he'll continue to tell you not to mind the others, they're just jealous.

Deuce always tries his best to pay attention and try to understand everything he can from the lessons.

But he can't stop himself from getting distracted by looking at you every now and then.

You see him with that slightly desperate face of someone who is having difficulties in class despite the effort. And make a heart with your hands for him, like a lovely "hang in there".

He is clearly taken by surprise, to the point that the colleagues next to him noticed him suddenly straightening up in his chair.

He will try to convince his colleagues that it wasn't nothing. And if, for some reason any of them try to insist, he will threaten them with something like "None of your business!"

He'll be so worried about not getting either of you in trouble that he'll forget to reciprocate the heart for a while.

When things are calmer, he will look back at you, waiting for you to look at him and, shyly, smile at you and make a heart with his hands for you, discreetly.

Like any other student, Cater lets himself be distracted from time to time. And this time, he gets distracted by looking at you.

He is the one who starts, smiling at you. And you respond by making a heart with your hands.

That lights up the smile he already had on his face. He rests his elbows on the table and rests his chin on the back of his hands and in the most discreetly ingenious way, he makes a heart shape with his forearms. And still winks at you.

In the end, you're the one getting the most flattered.

After class, if you let him, he might walk up to you and kiss you on the cheek. After all, you made his day with that cute heart of yours. He wants to reciprocate in the best way.

Obviously, Trey isn’t a bad student, but even he gets distracted from time to time. And he ends up looking at you.

When you look at him, he gives you a soft smile. You take the opportunity and make a heart with your hands for him.

He looks surprised at first and smiles sweetly at you in response. He surveys the classroom and notices that neither the professor nor the other students are paying attention to either of you.

He looks back at you and also makes a heart with his hands for you. With a sweet and somewhat confident smile.

The next day, you will find a small bag with heart-shaped cookies of your favourite flavour, with a little note saying "You should pay more attention in class."

When you look at him, Leona is already looking at you, indiscreetly. He doesn't like the classes, they're all boring to him. And he decided that you would be the most interesting thing in the classroom.

He smiles amused to see you getting flattered by see him paying more attention to you than in class.

He winks at you to mess with you even more.

You look around to see if anyone is looking at you, and when you see that they are concentrating on what the professor is writing on the board, you look back at Leona and make a heart with your hands for him.

He laughs, not too loudly, but loud enough to get the attention of some of his classmates and Professor Trein. It's not that common to see him laughing like that. Not his usual sarcastic laugh, but an amused laugh.

Professor Trein asked him what was so funny that Kingscholar himself laughed? But he says it was nothing and the professor didn't need to worry, that he wouldn't do it again. In his carefree way.

Congratulations, you got Leona's attention for the rest of the class.

The next time you look back at Leona, he'll be leaning back with his arms crossed. And he will purposely uncross them to make a heart with his thumb and forefinger for you with a smile on his face.

Jack is a good boy and he was paying attention in class. He's kind of cute looking so intently at the professor and the blackboard.

When he looks at you, probably because he sensed that you were already looking at him, you can't resist making a heart with your hands for him.

You see him raise his eyebrows and put his ears back in surprise. What you couldn't see was his tail wagging.

He looks undecided for a few seconds, not knowing what to do first: go back to paying attention in class or reciprocate you. Not reply you must be impolite, right? Or you might think he doesn't reciprocate the feeling.

As soon as he sees another opportunity, where no one is looking at you two, he will look at you and, as soon as you look at him, he will look at his hands on the table for you to look at them too.

You see him making a shy heart with his index and middle fingers.

As soon as he sees your smile, he will smile back at you and go back to paying attention in class. He will have a slight smile for, probably, all day.

Ruggie probably looked at you because he was getting bored in class.

When you notice and look at him, he smile playfully.

You decide to answer that smile by making a heart with your hands for him.

His smile widens, turning into a small chuckle. He stretches out, bringing his hands behind his head. He waits a bit, to give the other students time to get back to focusing on the lesson, or anything else. And put his hands inward over his head, making a big heart with his arms around him for you.

You weren't expecting that, which made you laugh a little. And consequently, him too.

Every next time you look at him, he'll make hearts with his hands for you, just to entertain himself by messing with you.

Azul is one of the best students in the school and for that reason he is also usually one of the most attentive in class. However, he’s not usually attentive only to the lesson.

He also tends to glance over the students to figure out who the next poor and unfortunate... I mean, the next student in need of his services might be.

And inevitably, his gaze falls on you. When you look at him, he smiles, that classic, confident smile that is his signature.

What he didn't expect was for you to return that smile with a heart made with your hands for him.

His glasses even crooked on the bridge of his nose. He quickly straightened them, using the hand to cover his mouth and, possible, blush.

But he cannot be indebted to you. He must reciprocate that.

Then, he recomposes his posture, checks that neither the professor nor the other students are looking at any of you, looks at you with his smile (trying to hide how flattered he really was) and makes a heart with his hands for you.

And don't you dare blow him a kiss! Or at least that's what he's thinking. Neither his pride nor his heart can take it

Jade tends to be quite observant in class. Mainly to try to find possible "clients” for Azul.

Inevitably, his gaze falls on you. When you look at him, he smiles at you.

You decide to respond to him not only with a smile, but also with a heart made with your hands for him.

He raises his eyebrows slightly, in surprise, before chuckling. Then he makes a heart with his hands for you, just like you did, with that charming smile of his.

He did it so naturally and without concern for the glares of others that his deskmates looked almost in shock at his heart-shaped hands.

And then to you, with the look of someone who asks "Who is capable of making him do this?" And unfortunately for you, if you don't like being the centre of attention, it will attract the attention of other curious students.

If Jade starts noticing too many people for his liking looking at you, he will clear the throat loudly, causing all heads to look away from you.

Floyd couldn't care less about that class. So he decided to stare at you. And, eventually, he'll feel like messing with you.

You will start to feel little balls of paper hit your hands, arms, cheeks... until you finally look at him. He was using a rubber band as a slingshot. He smiles at you, like a naughty big child.

You show him your sulky face for what he did, but then you decide to mess with him too, in your own way. And you make a heart with your hands for him.

His smile only grows. As if he knew he could count on you to entertain him a little in that class. To the point where he laughs out loud, not caring in the least if he caught the attention of the other students and even the professor. What happened.

Knowing Floyd already, Professor Trein warns him not to do that again and to contain his laughter next time if he doesn't want to be kicked out of the classroom.

To pretty much everyone's surprise, he nods, as if he doesn't want to leave the classroom.

He waits until everyone stops paying attention to you two to return the heart to you. And start a game that whenever you look at each other you have to make a heart for the other. At least during that class or until he had had enough.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[theplaid-wearingmoose]

Pic credit: @cupcakeinat0r

Warning: Rough sex, overstimulation, dumbification-ish?, name-calling, breeding kink

It started with you making your way to Miguel's office to drop off your mission report and some food from the cafeteria since you were certain he hadn't eaten today. Just before you reached the door, Lyla appeared in front of you. "Hey girly. You here for the boss?" She asked. "Yeah Lyla, I know he probably hasn't come out for food today. Plus I need to drop off my report." You answered. Lyla gave you a sheepish look. "Ummm just be careful...or maybe come back later? It might be better. He's not doing so hot. It's uh...his time of the month?"

You paused at first. You were so busy taking care of anomalies you forgot to check the calendar. Miguel's spider DNA gave him a mating cycle. The first time had taken you by surprise and your muscles ached for 2 weeks. Since then you'd been careful to time it properly and stretch but saving the multiverse from sudden collapse was becoming more and more difficult lately. You totally forgot about Miguel's "heat".

"Oh...um..maybe I'll still go check on him. Just so I can make sure he doesn't hurt himself." You reasoned to her. Lyla shrugged. "If you say so. Don't say I didn't warn you though, girly." You smiled and waved her away playfully as the door slid open in front of you. Miguel's office felt unusually cold, like he had turned the AC on full blast plus some. You didn't even have a chance to speak before hearing Miguel's voice shouting. "LYLA I told you not to let anyone in here!"

Your spider sense pinged just as you saw one of Miguel's huge monitors flying towards you. "Miguel! What the hell, it's me!" You shouted, catching the monitor before it took you out. The force of it did send you back a couple inches but you were otherwise unharmed. You swung up to his platform and set the monitor gently on the floor. "Oh...I-I'm sorry, hermosa. I didn't know it was you." He apologized. He was hunched over in his chair, his large frame curled almost into a ball. He didn't even look up at you but you could see him tense up as you neared him. "You shouldn't be here, querida. It's not safe. I don't wanna hurt you."

You put your hand on his back and Miguel bristled like a cat. "Amor, estoy serio! If you don't leave, I don't think I'll be able to control myself." He warned, his tone was harsh but also pleading. You stood firm. "I'm not afraid of you, Miguel. And I'm not fragile either. You know I can handle it. It'll hurt you more if you don't." You placed your hands on his shoulders and started to massage his muscles when he shot up from his chair and whirled around to face you. "You don't know what you're asking for this time, querida. I tried to take a suppressor and..it didn't work! It only made it worse." He growled. You could finally take in the sight of him fully as he towered above you. His hair was disheveled and sweaty, his normally maroon-colored eyes were a blazing, almost glowing, red. He was breathing heavily and his hands were clenched in tight fists like he was using every ounce of strength to keep them to himself.

You raised your hand to his face, concerned, but Miguel caught your hand in his tightly. "Miguel-" "Why do you insist on torturing me, amor? Don't you understand that the closer you get to me, the more I'm having to restrain myself?!" He pulled you to him and pressed his nose to your wrist, inhaling deeply. "Dios mio...you smell so sweet, princesa. I bet you taste even better." He growled against your skin. Arousal coursed through you as you felt his hard length press against you. "Miguel...I can take it.." You spoke, trying to reassure him, your voice barely making it above a whisper. He leaned close to you, gripping you by your jaw. "I won't be gentle, hermosa. I can't." He rasped. You nodded and gasped as he began to grind his hips against you. One hand ran up the back of your neck and tangled in your hair. Grabbing a fistful of it, Miguel yanked your head back and latched his mouth to your neck. You cried out as his fangs sunk into your skin, marking you as his. He sucked on your neck before pressing his lips to yours, shoving his tongue into your mouth. His other hand ran down your body, squeezing and groping your flesh as he went. He stopped just under your bellybutton and gripped a fistful of your suit. Your eyes widened as you felt a tug and heard the rip of the material.

You pushed on his chest, trying to protest his destruction of your suit but he grabbed your wrist, pinning it behind you, and smothering your noises with his kiss. Breathing heavily, he released you long enough to growl out "I'll make you another suit, querida" before shredding the material on your chest, freeing your breasts. He wasted zero time sucking one of your sensitive nipples into his mouth before rolling the other one between his fingers. You let your head roll back and threaded your fingers through Miguel's hair. His warm tongue flicked across your nipple, making you whimper in pleasure.

Miguel stood up straight and pushed you back against the table. Turning your body away from him, he got on his knees behind you. "Bend over for me, princesa. Let me taste you." He demanded. You bent over the table, your ass and dripping pussy completely exposed to him. Miguel groaned as he massaged your ass. "Fuck, you're so wet already, amor. You're driving me crazy."

You choked out a loud moan as Miguel shoved his tongue inside you without warning. His hands dug into the meat of your ass as he wiggled it against his face. "Oh f-fuck, Miguel! Your mouth feels so good!" You whined. Miguel hummed as he sucked on your clit and flicked his tongue over your wet hole. Two of his large fingers replaced his tongue inside you and began pumping inside you fast and hard. Your legs were already beginning to shake and you knew Miguel wouldn't have mercy on you just yet. You felt yourself coming undone as he ate you like an ice cream. You couldn't help but rock back against his face, crying out his name as you came on his tongue.

Laughing quietly to himself, he stood and wiped his face before cleaning off his fingers one by one, savoring your taste. He went back to rubbing your clit in circles as he positioned himself behind you. He pushed on your back until you were completely flush against the table. You heard his suit turn off and squirmed against him in anticipation.

A loud scream was pulled from your throat as Miguel fully sheathed himself inside you. Giving you absolutely no time to adjust, he began fucking you at such a rough pace, the monitors began to shake from the force of his thrusts. "Ay carajo, bebita...you're so fucking tight....gonna fill this pussy up so good, querida. You're gonna make such a beautiful mama." Miguel moaned. You couldn't form any words. Every ounce of your strength was going to keeping yourself upright. You gripped the edge of the table and held on for dear life. You could see your face reflected in the monitor in front of you, the orange lights illuminating your fucked out expression. Your lips were slightly puffy from Miguel sucking on them and your eyes were half open. Miguel noticed you looking into your reflection and smirked.

"You like watching me fuck you, amor? You do make such a beautiful sight. You can barely keep your eyes open, can you? Do I make you feel that good, baby? Answer me."

"Y-yes, Miguel you- ohmygod- you make me feel amazing. You're so deep inside me...fuck, you're gonna make me cum soon!" You cried. Miguel laughed darkly. "Oh you're gonna cum a few times for me, cariño. As many times as it takes." He growled. Hooking his arm under your knee, he lifted one of your legs onto the table, angling himself so he could fuck deeper into you. His pace sped up and the feeling of his cock so deep inside you had you screaming. The monitors not attached to the ceiling toppled over and crashed to the floor of the platform but Miguel kept his pace as if he didn't even hear them. You didn't even have time to announce it before your orgasm hit you, soaking Miguel's cock and stomach with your wetness. Still his pace did not slow. If anything, it spurred him on even more. "Así baby, cum all over me, princesa. Fuck you're such a good girl for me.." Miguel groaned in approval.

Grabbing your hair, Miguel pulled your head back and pressed kisses to the side of your face as he continued fucking you. "Que linda...eres tan hermosa, amor." He murmured, his gentle words a stark contrast to the rough movements of his hips. "Tell me you love it, princesa." "Ohhhh I l-love it s'much! S'fucking good!" You slurred, your brain foggy from the overstimulation. You were so blissed out you didn't realize your mouth had been hanging open and drool had fallen from your tongue. Miguel smirked when he noticed. "Oh princesa you're drooling, huh? Am I fucking my baby stupid? This cock too much for my dumb little whore, hm?" All you could do was nod and whimper in response. "Oh pobrecita..." Miguel crooned.

He reached around you and rubbed your clit as he slammed his hips against your ass. Your moans and whimpers grew loud as another orgasm washed over you, your nails clawing at the table.

"M-Miguel please...I c-can't." You sobbed, your legs shaking, dangerously close to giving out. Miguel bent over you and nibbled gently on your ear lobe. "What happened to 'I can take it, Miguel. I'm not fragile, Miguel'?" He taunted. You let out another sob of pleasure as he lifted your leg back onto the table and smacked your ass before gripping it tightly. "Don't worry, princesa. Gonna fill that pussy up soon, gonna put a baby in you and make you a mama. Fuck, amor, you're gonna look so beautiful all swollen with my babies. Gotta fuck it into you deep, baby." He moaned. Your eyes rolled back in your head at his words. "Fuck yes, cum inside me Miguel. Please fill me up! I need it!" You begged. Miguel cursed and gripped your hips hard enough that surely bruises would be there later. Sweat dripped from his hair and a thin sheen of sweat made his chest glisten.

He pounded into you hard, chasing his release. Your screams of pleasure filled his ears and soon he was seeing stars as his release finally hit. His whole body shuddered as he emptied his load inside you, coating your walls in his warm, sticky cum. With a loud grunt, he pressed his hips flush against your ass, making sure he was totally spent before pulling back out of you. Your legs gave out completely and you collapsed to the floor, breathing heavily. Miguel quickly joined you, pulling your trembling body against his sweaty chest. Panting against your skin, he pressed a kiss to your forehead and brushed your hair away from your face. His actions were gentle but as he kissed your cheek, he murmured in your ear.

"Get your rest now, amor. I'm not even close to done with you."

[bluessmutifyplaylist]

You wanted the yandere sebek request for your smut blog and ill shall deliver.

Go feral to with this picture to bestie do what you want 😊.

I’m just a small town girl… Living in my delulu world~

Warnings: AFAB Reader that goes by she/her pronouns, oral (reader receiving), breeding(?), creampie, future family mentioned, dom!Sebek, CONSENSUAL (reader’s a bit delulu), Sebek loves you more than Malleus

Sebek Zigvolt

As much as he loathed to admit it, he needed you. He had grown to need you more than he needed the validation from Malleus. You had become his whole world, and you had no idea what that meant for you. He breathed for you.

It started off simple enough. He would leave sweet poems at your door or on your desk. As Eliza Hamilton once said, he built you palaces and cathedrals out of paragraphs. However, he never signed it with anything that told his identity to you. Instead, he signed it as ‘Your Secret Admirer’. It drove you crazy, but you drove him crazy. It was only fair that he should have the same effect on you that you did him. 

But, with each poem, its contents got darker and darker. It got more obsessive. Despite this, you didn’t find yourself scared. You found yourself wanting to meet this person, wanting to hold them in your arms as you assured them that they were yours as you were theirs. You hadn’t even met them, but your heart fluttered upon the thought of someone being so dedicated to you.

Maybe you’ve read too many dark romance books, but your heart is no longer with you. It belonged to your secret admirer.

With each passing day, you tried to make guesses as to who leaves the poems everywhere where only you would be able to find them. It couldn’t be Ace or Deuce. As much as you loved them as friends, they couldn’t write a poem if it meant saving their own lives. You ruled out Epel and Jack as well, as they were often too busy.

This left one man, and you have caught him staring at you a few times. Sebek Zigvolt. He called you ‘human’ every single time he wanted to address you, but you couldn’t help but want your secret admirer to be him. You wanted him to be your knight in shining armor, but with a not-so-shining obsession over you.

Everything changed when you got another letter. However, it was not from your not-so-secret secret admirer. It was from a student in your potionology class who had taken interest in you. You had not informed anyone of your admirer, but you knew that he probably already knew about this. After all, the seal had been broken.

You were going to meet up with the student, so accept his confession. Before you were able to exit the classroom, you felt yourself being tugged back by your bag. You turned to see a rather angry Sebek, and you let out a gasp.

“Don’t go with that impudent boy,” He said, venom laced in his voice. “He does not deserve you.”

“Says who?” 

“Says me, Your Secret Admirer. I wanted to remain secret, but it seems as though you truly wanted me to reveal myself. You truly wanted me to make you know that you are mine.”

“Oh, but I know already,” You dropped your bag and turned your body fully to him, letting you know that you weren’t scared. “I am yours, as you are mine.”

Cupping your face in his hands, he looked down at you with a still-angry look on his face. 

“Then why are you insistent upon meeting up with this man?”

“Because I needed to be sure that you were my secret admirer. If you loved me, you would have swooped in and saved me from being with a man I didn’t love. While I put myself in that position, I knew you would be my knight in shining armor.”

With a flushed face, he asked, “Does this mean you accept my affections and my obsessive desire to court you?”

“I do.”

~~~~~~~~

Slipping the ring onto your finger, he dipped you down into a kiss at the altar. Applause erupted from thousands of people, happy to see one of the highest generals in the Briar Valley military be wed to the love of his life. If only they knew the darker happenings behind the scenes. If only they knew how truly obsessed with you he was. If only they knew the amount of deaths were on his hands because of you.

You knew, but that did not stop you from running into his arms time and time again. That did not stop you from courting him, accepting his proposal, planning your wedding, and marrying him. He was your captor, but you had no issue with that. It could be that you needed professional help, but you couldn’t help but give him your heart and your body.

That night, as he princess-carried you over the door’s threshold of your new home, all bets of decency were off. He was the reason why there was a tradition of why the groom cannot see the bride before the wedding: he would have tore off your wedding dress and claimed you in the room you were getting ready in.

Fortunately for yourself and your guests, he was refrained from doing so by order of Malleus Draconia.

Once you reached what you both deemed your bedroom, he put you down and immediately started kissing you with a passion you had never seen him with before. Who needed air in their lungs anyway? You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him back, letting him hold up your weight after running out of breath.

“From now on, you are to depend on me and only me, do you hear? Just like you are now depending on me to keep you upright. I will be your provider, as well as the provider for our family,” He pulled away, and you smiled at what he said.

“Family?” You asked.

“If that is what my wife also desires,” He smiled back, waiting for your response.

A few moments passed between the two of you as you thought about it. Then, you nodded.

“Let me properly step out of the dress, though. I want it to be able to be worn by our daughter or daughter-in-law.” With that, he reluctantly zipped down the dress gently, leaving you in a lingerie set that you wore underneath. 

You looked ravishing.

He picked you up once again, helping you out of the dress and laying you on the edge of the bed. At the end of the night, you realized that was the only gentle thing that your husband did for you, aside from the aftercare.

Kissing you once again, he made quick work of your bra and started kissing your neck. Moaning, you moved your head to the side to allow him easier access. He actually bit your neck, his fangs leaving their mark, making you hiss in a mix of pain and pleasure. He eventually let go, trailing his kisses further and further down.

Your husband was obsessed with everything about you, and he wanted to make sure that you knew that. He worshiped every part of you, even more so than Malleus. He praised the ground you walked upon. 

It didn’t take him a while to tear off your panties, but you didn’t feel exposed. Instead, you felt as though it were an intimate moment. Sure, you both weren’t virgins, as there were times where temptations got the better of you. However, you always had protection. This time, you didn’t.

He started to go down on you, devouring your pussy like it was his first meal in years. He also started taking off his tuxedo. Once his shoulders were bare, he hiked your legs onto them. Your hips were raised off of the bed as he stood up, and he was relentless with his tongue, which made you have your first orgasm of the night. He then took the chance to take his pants and boxers.

Every time you saw it, his size always managed to surprise you. However, it was hard to be anything but euphoric as he physically removed himself from your core. You could tell that it pained him, but to finally see him with his juices on your face and licking his lips almost made you cum alone.

“Are you ready, darling?” He asked, starting to position his cock against your soaked pussy, a combination of your juices and his saliva acting as lube.

“Please, Seb,” You begged, and your eyes rolled back as he sheathed himself fully inside of you. He leaned forward, making your thighs press against your chest. Pressing another kiss on your lips, he pulled his dick all the way out before entering once again.

You were so warm, and inside of you, he felt like he was home. You were now officially his, and that ring on your finger proved it. He could feel the ring on his scalp as you grasped his hair to pull him into another kiss.

Pulling away to get some air, the look in your eyes was sincere. In fact, there were tears falling.

“I love you, Sebek Zigvolt,” You uttered between moans, letting your second orgasm wash over you.

The words surprised him, despite them being in your vows just a few hours ago. It felt different, with his dick inside of his wife… his wife. He knew you meant those words, even as your face contorted in pleasure. 

His thrusts quickened their pace, not losing the rhythm established, until thick, hot ropes of cum were emptied into your awaiting cunt. You both knew that this would not be the last time this night, and that it was merely the introduction of a passionate time in each other’s embrace.

“I love you, too, Y/N Zigvolt.”

[inkdrinkerworld]

Heyyy! could I request a dealer! Remus and autistic reader where r doesnt really how much of a catch she is and cant really pick up on the signals when someone else is flirting, and they are at a party where remus is selling and comes back to see r being flirted with and totally oblivious because she’s just being herself and remus intimidates the flirter? If not that’s totally okay!

You’re sitting pretty on your sofa, headphones around your neck as you speak to one of Remus’ customers.

You’re in the dispensary with Remus, needing the cool ac in the hot summer more than anything. Usually you’d sit in his office, but the place had been empty when you came out and you wanted to see him.

His friend had been waiting for Remus to finish weighing the ounces and bag edibles and while he’d been waiting he’d caught a glimpse of the book you were reading and started asking questions.

It’s your weakness. Being asked about your special interests, so you’d answered.

“It’s a book about the fae. The different types and where they’re linked to.”

You sit on your heels, looking up at the man as he nods. “So like brownies, changelings and all that?”

You nod, a grin splitting your face. “Well changelings aren’t actually fae,” you brush a strand of hair away from your face. Your pigtail braids coming undone.

The man feigned surprise. “They aren’t?” He watches your eyes light up, you shake your head. You tilt your head before you start speaking.

“They say people in Scotland called them changelings because the babies didn’t look like regular babies. Most likely because they had Down Syndrome and they people didn’t understand-“

The man stutters his next question out, he can’t stop looking at your eyes or the way you keep your head tilted as you go from looking at your book and then up at him.

Remus comes into the room before you can say more, handing the bags to the man with a small frown. He doesn’t know how you never notice his customers falling in love with you.

“Everything’s sorted.” Remus takes the money from the man and all but pushes him out of the dispensary as he says,

“It was nice talking with you, love.”

When Remus comes back to you he smiles as he sees you back to reading.

“He was flirting with you, y’know.”

You look up, confusion written all over your face. “No he wasn’t?” Your statement comes out like a question. Remus chuckles and lays beside you.

“He was, couldn’t stop looking at your lips. Plus he was stuttering like a fool because you were looking at him.” You roll your eyes, looking down at yourself.

“But I’m not even wearing anything cute.”

Remus snorts, “I hardly think that matters when you look good in everything, pretty girl. Glad I snatched you up when I did.”

You scrunch your nose, you’re in a yellow sweater that says, ‘mental health matters,’ a black skirt and stockings with your black Mary Janes - an outfit in your regular rotation.

“You think so?” You ask, fiddling with the sleeve cuff of your sweater. Remus twists, head raising so he can kiss the beauty mark under your jaw.

“Know so, dovey. Gonna have to keep you in the office if every one of my customers is gonna flirt with you.” Remus isn’t serious, but he likes making you flustered.

You giggle, cupping Remus’ jaw. You don’t have to say it, he’s never doubted you. You do it anyway.

Remus’ heart warms, “I’ll never flirt back, just want you.”

[yelenasdiary]

How about the first time Wanda gets called Mama? R can be like 5 <3

Mama

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Daughter! Reader

Summary: You call Wanda mama for the first time.

Tiny Angst (blink & you might miss it), Comfort

Warnings: None | 1K

Translations: милый (darling)

AC: Thank you for sending this! I hope it’s okay that I made reader 6 in this, I hope you enjoy it! x

A Widow’s Sunshine Masterlist

Wanda couldn't help but smile softly when she entered the compounds kitchen to see Nat making peanut butter sandwiches while you were sat the dining table drawing. "There you are" Natasha looked up and smiled at her girlfriend, "I was just about to text you and see if you wanted to join us" she added. 

"As if I would miss out on your famous peanut butter sandwiches" Wanda chuckled as she took a seat across from you. "Hi Wanda!" You smiled sweetly, only looking up at her for a brief moment before your attention returned to the crayon in your hand. Nat wasn't a big fan of bring you to work, she liked to keep work and her personal life separate, but you loved coming to the compound and seeing your extended family so sometimes on the weekend, Nat would bring you here to hang out while she did some training or caught up on mission reports. 

"How are you today?" Wanda asked you. 

"I'm good" you replied, not looking up from your drawing. Wanda chuckled lightly as she watched you pick up a different color crayon, "what are you drawing over there?" Wanda asked. You quickly covered the drawing with your hands, "don't look yet!! it's not finished" you replied just as your mom placed a place of sandwiches in the center of the table. She placed a kiss on the top of your head and asked you to put your drawing away and wash your hands before the three of you enjoyed lunch together. 

After lunch, you were quick to get back into your drawing, Wanda and Nat sat around the dining table talking over coffee and tea while you were in your own little world. "She's really focused today" Wanda commented with a soft smile, your mom nodding at the comment. "Ever since they started art classes at school, the refrigerator at home is becoming full" Nat chuckled. 

"I take it she loves school?" Wanda asked. You started elementary school a month ago and to say you loved it was an understatement. Of course, the first two weeks was touch and go but once you started to make more friends and got to know your teachers, you were excited to go to school each morning. 

"She'd skip breakfast to get there early if I let her" Nat replied, causing both women to chuckle once more. There was a moment of silence as the two of them watched at how focused you were on your new piece of art. "So" Nat said, breaking the silence, "have you thought more on our conversation the other night?" She added once Wanda made eye contact with her. 

"Are you sure that's what you want? I don't want to do anything that might interrupt your routine with Y/n" she replied. Just before your mom could say another word, you came running to them with your drawing in hand. You ran straight over to Wanda and smiled widely, "I made this for you!" You said as you handed her the drawing. 

Wanda smiled softly as she took the drawing and looked down at it. Nat noticed the small build-up of tears in Wanda's eyes as she picked you up and placed you on her lap, "милый, what did you draw?" Your mother asked you, slightly worried. You turned slightly and looked up at your loving mother, "you, me and mama at the park!" You replied. Natasha's heart basically melted at your reply, Wanda looked up at the two of you and smiled softly at you. 

"Are you okay mama? Why are you crying?" you asked, letting Wanda's new title sound so natural. Wanda nodded, "you've made me so happy, these are happy tears" she replied, "come here and give me a hug" she added. You didn't need to be told twice before sliding off your mom's lap and running into Wanda's arms. She hugged you tightly, not too tight of course but enough to let you know how much this drawing meant to her. 

"My friend, America, has two mommies and she said that it's the best thing in the world!" You boosted, "now I have two mommies!" You added. 

----

Later that night when you were fast asleep with Liho curled up at the end of your bed, Nat and Wanda were enjoying a movie in the living room. Wanda's head resting comfortably in Natasha's lap while she twirled with her brunette locks. Wanda could sense something was on Nat's mind and decided to pause the movie. She got up and straddled Natasha's lap. 

"Talk to me baby, what's going on inside that mind of yours" she said, placing a kiss on her forehead. Natasha instantly wrapped her arms around Wanda and smiled softly, "everything I thought I wouldn't have, is happening and I'm a little worried something might stuff things up" the red head admitted in honesty. Wanda gently ran her fingers through Natasha's hair, "is this because Y/n called me mama?" She asked causing your mother to nod and her eyes to drop. 

Wanda gently lifted Natasha's head up to look at her once more, "you asked me if I wanted to move in with you and Y/n and I was worried that if I said yes that it might interrupt what you already have with your daughter but today when she gave me that drawing, I have never felt so much love for the two of you. I fell in love with you the moment you asked if I were wearing your jacket and I fell even harder for you when you allowed me to meet your little girl. Your worries are mine and mine are yours" she said before kissing Natasha softly, "I am in this for long run baby. You, Y/n & Pietro are my family and if you're okay with it, I would love to be Y/n's mama" she added, stroking Nat's cheeks with her thumbs gently. 

"She's going to be so happy when we tell her" Natasha smiled softly, "you're probably going to have to spend the first few nights in her room with her" she added with a chuckle. 

"Do you think Liho will mind?" Wanda joked before Natasha captured her lips in another soft kiss.

Taglist: @koinsss | @liloandstitchstan | @marcia-maximoff | @skittlebum | @katethewritersblog | @taliiiaasteria | @nova-kyle | @daddipantherr | @riyaexee | @sgm616 | @elle161989 | @alphalesbianwolffoxdragontribrid | @mathxa | 

If you want to be on the taglist for this series, please see the masterlist. It's linked at the top of this post.

[innerfare]

Ace Relationship Headcanons - Part 2

Summary: A collection of headcanons about being in a relationship with Fire Fist Ace

Genre: Fluff

CW: None // SFW

———

Ace almost started a fight with someone the first time you guys met, and you said, “easy there, tiger.” You’ve been calling him that ever since, and he puffs up his chest when he hears that word, even if it’s in a different context. What he never told you was that the strongest of all beasts on the island he grew up on was a tiger. Thus, you calling him that made him feel like the king of the jungle. 

Speaking of tigers, he has a tiger pelt in his bedroom from a beast he hunted a while back and his chest swells with pride when you compliment it. He also has a collection of animal teeth that he tells you all about, several of them ultimately leading into stories of Luffy and Sabo and his time growing up in the East Blue. 

Is insanely touch starved. In the early stages of your relationship, he offers to teach you things as a way not only to spend time with you but also to initiate skin to skin. He’ll show you how how to throw a spear, how to tie certain knots, even how to sail the Striker, and the entire time, he has his arms around you, his hands guiding yours, his bare chest flush against your back. 

Once your relationship is established and he’s more comfortable initiating skin to skin without an excuse, he basically never stops. 

He loves picking you up and carrying you around. He’ll sweep you off your feet, pull you onto his back, and even bend down to get you on his shoulders (his absolute favorite). So many piggyback rides it's unreal, any excuse to pick you up.

Ace actually has a habit of approaching vulnerable topics while he has you on his back because the close skin to skin contact without the pressure of eye contact makes him feel comfortable enough to do so. Other times, he'll come up behind you and bury his face in your shoulder and mutter whatever it is that's bothering him.

Enjoys roughhousing, though he holds back to an almost comical degree because he lives in constant fear of hurting you. Roughhousing is mostly just you straddling his lap while your fingers are intertwined and you wrestle with your arms a little bit. 

Compares hand sizes all the time. 

Has a habit of bending you over things but not escalating beyond that. Every time you're standing at the kitchen counter, he magically needs something in your path and bends you over to reach around you. Any excuse to put his hands on you. 

One of his favorite activities to do with you is climb trees. If you’re sailing together, as soon as you make landfall, you two are off to explore the new island, and you almost always end up tangled in a tree together, swinging from the branches like monkeys. He once confided in you he wishes he could go swimming with you, too. Has literally had dreams about the two of you floating on your backs together like otters.  

Wants you sitting in his lap all the time. Wants you swinging in his hammock with him all the time. Wants you wearing the shirts he no longer has any need for, drinking out of his cup, eating the meat he caught and roasted for dinner himself, relying on his log pose for directions- all. the. time. Needs to feel needed. 

Gets offended if you light a candle using a match instead of asking him. Has even pouted because you lit a cannon fuse in the heat of battle without his help. “Ace, you were five ships over and a little busy.” “That’s no excuse.” 

Knows he can get away with things by flashing a cute smile at you. Often tries to use said smile to get out of trouble and serious conversations. 

Not good at apologizing and usually doesn’t initiate the making up process after a fight. It’s not actually that he’s too stubborn to apologize, he just gets triggered when the two of you fight; his fear of you leaving him has him in a vice grip and he puts his walls back up to prepare himself for what he fears is the inevitable. When you initiate the making up process, he’s always shocked, but he doesn’t resist, not even for a second. 

Claims he’s always the big spoon, and he often is, but he also will climb into your arms late at night and fall fast asleep with you cradling him like a baby. Will fiercely deny this ever happens though. He has a reputation to maintain. 

Hates taking baths, but loves taking them with you. His favorite is when you wash his hair. His second favorite is to sit in a large tub back to back with you. His third favorite is when you wash his back, which eventually turns into you washing his chest and abdomen. If he were to make a list of his favorite things to do with you, most of them would be in the bath. 

Falls asleep if you play with his hair. It’s like pressing a button. It’s gotten to the point that he whines if you don’t play with his hair when he’s trying to sleep. 

More than you playing with his hair, he loves playing with yours. He especially loves it when he braids it and you wear it that way for the rest of the day; he’s actually really good at braiding it. Once, he accidentally singed it because Marco startled him. You thought it was funny but Ace didn’t. He apologized profusely and still swears he won’t do it every time he sits down to play with your locks.  

Food is his love language. Sharing your food, buying each other snacks and confections, cooking/preparing meals for each other, peeling each others’ tangerines. His favorite, though, is taking you hunting. He really enjoys teaching you how to track prey and take it down (if you don’t already know). Your way of asking him if he’s okay quickly becomes, “have you eaten?” Beams for the rest of the day if he takes you fishing and you ask him to bait your hook for you. 

Falling in love was rough for him, but he quickly grows accustomed to being in love. Nights without goodnight kisses, mornings without lazy cuddles, candies without you to eat some- he doesn’t do well without you, though he hides it very well. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[riririnnnn]

More random things in Blue Lock I find endearing:

-> Brothers

LOOK AT THE HAND PLACEMENT OF SAE. JUST LOOK AT IT. LOOK. AT. IT. OHMYGOD I'M GONNA CRY.

Oh god.

It's tough to explain, but to see him supporting Rin's arm instead of the trophy makes me want to punch a wall. It feels like, "Yes, we won this together, Rin." OHMYGOD! AAAAAAAA!!!

-> Hushed wisher

I really don't think we have ever seen Noa coaching any player other than Isagi, so him silently rooting for Kaiser caught me off guard real hard. Of course, it doesn't seem like much of a big deal, but to see that Noa hadn't completely taken his eyes off of Kaiser and that he hadn't completely pulled away his trust from Kaiser hits a certain type of emotion in my heart.

Considering that Kaiser wants to win over Noa too—a fact Noa, probably, knows—makes everything feel a bit.. bittersweet.

-> CHEERS!!

The above panel happened after Shidou scored a goal against Barcha and honestly—

CUTE!!!

I mean, BM was next in line to face PxG—it's probably the reason why they were watching the match live—and they were going to face Shidou which makes them rivals, and yet, when he does something cool, they all go, "WOOHOO! THAT'S COOL!!" instead of worrying or being jealous.

It's called sportsmanship, I guess?

It's sweet.

-> BM's Dad

There's another translation, but I find the above one way better because it's so... soft.

I mean, Noa has always been shown as this cold, emotionless person who inhales and exhales logic, so it was sweet when he tried to reassure Kiyora—when he showed some kind of compassion. It was like, "Hey, Kiddo! It's okay, don't worry, you'll play the next time! Cheer up!"

It also makes it sound like even if Kiyora were not to have the required stats for the next match, then Noa was prepared to against his own ideals and let Kiyora play regardless.

Sweet!

-> Protective

When Nagi got pissed off because Barou's violent behaviour nearly hurt Reo. Like, just look at that stance, he was ready to beat the crap out of Barou if Reo wouldn't have stopped him.

No matter what label you give Nagi and Reo—lovers or friends—you can't deny that they are probably the best thing that happened to eachother.

I really want what they have.

-> "It's their love language"

They barely knew eachother and yet when these two started to brawl, they all intervened immediately—Nanase and Isagi are literally hanging onto them with their dear life. It's tough to explain, but I found the gesture really sweet, like, they didn't know them! They could bash open their skulls—it wouldn't affect them at all and yet, they are trying to stop them!

Adorbs!!

Also, Chigiri was on the other side of the field, I guess. He came running!!! So sweet!

-> First friend

The way Bachira blindly believed in Isagi. Like, he had full trust that Isagi will come and play with him. He never doubted him at all! The healthiest duo of Blue Lock!

Also, look at his duck lips. Cutie.

-> "Welcome to the academy!"

Anybody who has shifted to a completely new place full of completely new people knows how good and relieving it feels when others make an effort to help you feel welcomed.

No idea if those three extra characters got selected in the tryouts or not, but they were nice. If Kaiser would've met them earlier, then they all would've surely been good buddies.

-> Beloved Ace

The way everyone instantly got mad at Shidou when he hurt Sendou—sweet! Also, the fact that they all refused to play if Sendou didn't play makes me giggle.

I adore bonds like these so much.

.

.

.

Pt: 1, 2, 3.

Probably the last of this series.

[ashwhowrites]

Hi! Can I request an Older! Eddie x reader (can you do another Hargrove! or Carver! Reader one?) but maybe more fluff/smut? Like Reader being in a secret relationship with Eddie, so her dad doesn't know, but Eddie teases her a lot, he tells her what If you father knew about us? and he knows she'll get nervous bc he hates Y/N's father (you can add more things!!)

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Daddy's girl

When Y/N and Eddie met for the first time, a year ago, neither knew how complicated the relationship would become. Y/N was an adult, allowed to make her own decisions. And dating the older man she met at the bar wasn't a regret. Eddie caught her eye as he sat at the bar, having a beer. His dark hair, brown eyes, and chiseled jaw, coated in dark facial hair, looked memorizing underneath the downtown lights.

A few drinks in and she made her way over to him. A few more drinks and she was in his backseat, steaming up the windows as she clawed at his seats. His hands on her hips, his mouth on her back, and his cock buried in her.

They hooked up for months before they realized how deep their connection was. The complication occurred when Y/N learned her father was Eddie's enemy. She knew her dad was a dick, and wasn't surprised to hear that he made Eddie's life hell in high school.

Eddie couldn't help but feel smug about the fact he was dirting up Carver's daughter. He wished he could see Jason's face when he connected his precious baby girl called Eddie Daddy all night long. But also to shove it in his face that after all these years, someone fell in love with him. He wanted to brag and brag that someone as amazing as Y/N wanted to be with him.

But Y/N did not want her dad to know about the relationship, which Eddie understood. Jason wouldn't hesitate to destroy the relationship they created. Plus forbidden love was always a turn-on.

~~~

"You're so hot," Eddie mumbled against Y/N's lips. They stumbled into his house, lips locked and their bodies heaving.

"So are you," Y/N said as she shut the door behind them with her heel. Her hands worked on Eddie's belt as he unbuttoned his dress shirt.

"What time do you have to meet your dad for dinner?" Eddie asked as he dropped his shirt to the floor.

"In an hour, but it's at that gross pizza shop he knows I hate," Y/N rolled her eyes as she tugged Eddie's pants down. He stepped out and kicked them to the side then removed his socks.

"Better make sure daddy's good girl is well-fed then, huh?" Eddie smirked as she whimpered at his words. Her stomach flipped and her thighs clenched.

She dropped to her knees and watched as Eddie took off his boxers. His hard cock inches from her face and she drooled at the sight.

"Ready?" He asked, his thumb swiping across her bottom lip, her obedient eyes watched his every move. He loved how submissive she was when it came to him. Just one snap of a finger and she'd run away from her life and follow him.

"Yes," she said and opened her mouth. She clenched her thighs as he gripped his cock, he placed his lip on her tongue. She moaned at the familiar feeling as he pushed himself down her throat.

He pulled her hair back and held it, he moaned as she began to move her head up and down as she sucked him off.

~~~

Y/N sat in the hot car as Eddie filled up the car with gas. A road trip ahead of them to the beach, bags packed in the back. A romantic getaway that she could not wait to start.

She smiled as the door opened and Eddie jumped in. His tattooed arms glistened in sweat from the short time outside, his tank top sticking to him. He started the engine and the AC blew and released them of the hot weather. He pushed his sunglasses into his hair and pecked her lips.

"Oh look it's your dad!" Eddie said, pointing straight ahead. Y/N snapped her head to look through the windshield, her dad stood filling his tank.

"Oh my god," Y/N whispered, she quickly ducked her head down and hid.

"I think we should go say hi," Eddie teased with a smirk as he looked down at her.

"Not funny," she snapped, slapping his thigh. She jumped when Eddie honked the horn, a growl leaving her lips as she smacked him again.

"Oh, he's looking! Say hi to your daddy, don't be rude." Eddie teased again, loving the way she looked up at him terrified, yet pissed off.

She didn't move a muscle, she watched as he flipped her dad off and quickly grabbed his hand.

"He's gone," Eddie said, Y/N slowly peaked over and sighed when her dad was gone.

"You are such an ass," Y/N shook her head as she buckled herself in.

"Yeah, but you love me"

~~~

"I'm going to grab the beers," Eddie said, pecking her cheek as he rounded the corner in the store. She pushed the cart and grabbed hot dog buns from the shelf. She grabbed a few more things before she went to the next aisle. She froze when she saw the back of her dad's head and Eddie's huge smirk.

"I see you didn't become a rockstar," Jason scoffed as he glared at Eddie. "Life must be so unfulfilling. No wife, no kids."

Y/N was mouthing "no" but when did Eddie listen?

"I am so glad you brought this up!" Eddie exclaimed as he smacked Jason's shoulder. "I am not married, but I found someone who will be."

"Yeah right," Jason mumbled, pushing Eddie's hand off of him.

"It's your daughter," Eddie said, his eyes flashing to Y/N's horrified face and back to Jason's shocked face.

"I'm shitting with you man, but you should see your face," Eddie laughed, smacking Jason's chest before he walked off. Y/N raced to hide behind the corner, slapping Eddie the second he was in sight.

To Eddie it was a fun little game, giving his girl a heart attack kept him a child at heart. But the ring in his nightstand reminded him he was all grown up.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

How You Turn My World; Chapter 1

Your day started with chaos, and my dear, it looks like it will continue to be chaos. But only time will tell. The Underground holds many surprises in store for you.

Characters; Grim, Lilia Vanrouge, Deuce Spade, Ace Trappola

Content; Gender-neutral reader, cat shenanigans, building the plot

Content Warnings; Swearing, illusion to marijuana but there is none

Word Count; 4.6 K

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |

Don't put my work into AI; I'll make sure you go to the Underground and don't return. Mwah mwah, kisses~

Ah, the joys of cat parenthood. Days spent cuddling your little bundle of furry joy. That’s what your friends preached. That having a feline roommate was easy and rewarding. That you would benefit by having a cute and fuzzy companion that didn’t demand much of anything. That you would love your little kitty friend like a child. Well, either your friends were liars with questionable senses of humour, or you drew the short stick when it came to choosing a furry companion. And there’s always the possibility of it being both, what with having Ace as a friend and all, but you just hoped it was just your shit luck and not that you had shit friends.

Seriously, though, what higher power did you manage to piss off to deserve the royal hobgoblin of a cat you have? He has shit and pissed in your plants on several occasions. Demolished every single curtain he laid eyes on like he had a personal vendetta against them. Stole your breakfast off your plate right as you were about to take a bite. Puked on your last pair of good white shoes, which still had stains on them because they wouldn’t come out. The cherry on top of it all though was that he insists on yowling and crying in the middle of the damn night for no good reason. Rudely awaking you from the dead of sleep because he demanded attention. With how loud he was, you were surprised that you hadn’t gotten a noise complaint from any of your neighbours… yet. But then again, you could hear the upstairs neighbours’ children screaming bloody murder every so often — what were their names, the Clovers? They were probably so used to it that they threw you a bone, or they didn’t want extra grey hairs from filing a complaint to the landlord. So maybe Grim wasn’t all that bad, but he was still a gremlin child. 

“MROWWWWWW!!!!!” Ah, so tonight was no different then. Grim had decided that you needed to be woken up before even the birds started to sing, needed to be yanked out of the land of dreams. That whatever had caught the attention of his singular brain cell was more important than you recharging so you don’t accidentally say the wrong thing to your boss. Since last time you had slipped up and called him dad, even though no one in their right mind would leave him alone with a rutabaga unattended, and he went on a two-hour long monologue about how much of a kind and generous person he was for you to see him as a father figure. And your salary wasn’t high enough, nor would it ever be, to deal with his eccentric and maddening behaviour.

Maybe, just maybe, if you ignored him and stared at the ceiling long enough he would stop his caterwauling and go to sleep. “MROWWWW!!!!!” Apparently not.

Just one night, ONE NIGHT, of peace and quiet. PLEASE. But you knew that if you didn’t get up soon, he would get up on the bed and put his fluffy butt in your face… like he did last night and the night before that. Sighing, you begrudgingly got out of your cocoon of warm, fluffy, blankets, and hoped you would soon be back in them after dealing with Grim. Hopefully, he was just complaining about his food bowl not being as full as he would like it.

What was the time anyways? Three-thirty in the morning? Ugh, Grim! What did Ace say about it, ah, yes, “Primetime witching hour. Demons and all sorts of creepies” yada yada yada. But you didn’t pay any mind to him, as his annoying smug look would taunt you in your mind even though he was probably sound asleep, blissfully asleep. Something that you wanted to be doing, but woefully you were not.

Stepping out into the main living space, you shot the grey fuzzball the stink eye. “What the hell do you want? You absolute gremlin!” You hissed through gritted teeth, very much annoyed with your brat of a fur child and wanting nothing more than to crawl back to bed, hell, even the loveseat would suffice.  

The offending feline just trilled at you in response, and his tail vibrated, happy that you had come out to see him. How is he so cute but so annoying? He rubbed against your legs before trotting off to one of his hidey holes, which also served as his nest of your stolen socks. He has a weird obsession with socks. But he popped back out, holding something in his mouth. Something small and fuzzy that didn’t look like any of his toys.

“Prowwww,” he dropped it at your feet as if saying that catching whatever it was, was the equivalent to paying his share of rent. Which, it was very much not.

You closed your eyes and pinched your brow. Please be one of his toys. PLEASE be one of his toys. You chanted to yourself in your mind and then opened your eyes. Unfortunately, it was not one of his toys. The small, fuzzy thing in question seemed to be a mouse or some other kind of rodent. It was too late (too early?) for this, and quite frankly you didn’t have the brain power to confirm whatever the hell it was. All you knew was that it looked like a mouse, therefore it was a mouse.

“Is this what you’ve been screaming about this whole time? A mouse,” you sighed. Shaking your head, you went to the bathroom, grabbing some paper towel so you could at least put it outside for something else to eat, or go back to nature in some other way. It was better than just being left to decompose in the communal garbage bin. When you came back out though, it was nowhere to be seen. Now, either Grim decided to eat it like a good kitty cat, or, with your luck, it was still alive and was now running amuck in your apartment.

Grim’s chattering was coming from the kitchen now, and he was up on top of the fridge. It was running amuck in your apartment, how lovely.

“Why, why, are you like this?! Get down from there!” You really didn’t have the energy for this.

Grim just blinked at you before his eyes dilated. He leapt down from his perch on the fridge and was pawing at a corner by the window. Looking down and you couldn’t make out anything on the floor. But you had the oh-so-brilliant idea to look up toward the ceiling. The ‘mouse’ was very much alive, and wasn’t a mouse at all, since it was flying around and banging itself against the corner.

“YOU CAUGHT A FUCKING BAT?!”

He had indeed caught a fucking bat. And bats were normally fine, when they were outside. Not when they’re flying around your apartment at three o’clock in the morning and your cat is losing his goddamn mind trying to catch it. So no, this was very much not fine. 

The bat was about as pleased as you were with this whole situation and kept on flinging itself against the glass of the window, desperately trying to get back outside. How the hell did it get inside in the first place? That could be pondered on upon at a later time, as the first priority was getting it back outside.

“Don’t fly towards my head, bat. I’m just trying to get you back outside. You’re a nice bat, right? Nice bat, nice bat,” you whispered in a non-threatening tone. Could the flying mammal understand what you were saying? Mostly likely not. Hopefully it understood that you, unlike your cat, were trying to help and did not want some fresh bat as your late night snack tonight.

After what felt like forever fuddling with the window to open with a broom in hand, just in case the bat decided to dive bomb your head, you finally got the cursed thing open. 

Grabbing Grim, who was still trying to catch the bat for a second time tonight, you got back to your bedroom and locked the door shut. You hoped that the bat would take the hint that it now had a path to freedom, but only time, and a bit of sleep, would tell. Slumping against the door frame, you sighed and looked over at Grim. He was playing with the door stop, the boing, boingg, boinggg sounds filling in the quiet. Whether it was to amuse himself, or to annoy you was a fifty-fifty bet.

Just as you were about to crawl back under the covers a string of anxiety connected in your head. Shit, did Grim get bit? DAMMIT GRIM! After leaving a somewhat desperate and tired call to your vet’s voicemail, alongside an apology for the late call (early call?), you peeked outside to see if the bat was still flying around. According to Google, the bat should be tested for rabies. You did not trust your no brain cell having fluff ball to know better than to get bit by a possibly rabid bat. But it was gone, so yet again, you were out of luck.

You had enough with today, even though it had just really begun. Pulling up the covers, you sighed in the dark warmth of your blanket cocoon. Grim was busying himself by trying to pounce on your feet, but you ignored him, falling back to sleep and hoping that the rest of your day wouldn’t bring any more shenanigans, migraines, or small flying mammals.

…

…

…

By some miracle, you managed to get Grim to the vet the very same day. Your boss agreed to let you work from home because he is ever so kind and generous… It did help that one of the other higher-ups nearly nagged off his ear upon hearing about the condition of your cat. Even through the phone you could hear it, and could only imagine the spectacle it must have been. Oh well, you had the day off and that is what mattered… but you would be lying if you said that you didn’t cough out a laugh just imagining the scene on the other side of the phone.

You were relieved, Grim on the other hand was not having it. To be fair, you did trick him into his crate with some tuna. He made his disdain known to all though by crying the entire way there. You almost felt bad for him, almost being the key word. 

“You have no one to blame for this but yourself, ya know.” You huffed at him, feeling your shit sleep all too well. “Crying about it won’t help you any.”

Grim let out a pathetic little mew. His little, bright, blue eyes being the only visible part of him, which peered out miserably from the crate. Caving to the kitty manipulation, you poked your finger in as a peace offering. Grim booped his nose to your finger and then proceeded to nibble on it; such a vicious beast.

The vet visit went as well as you could hope it could, as Grim only tried to maim the vet a few times. Hey, it was an improvement from last time, as he had actually peed on them. So yes, trying to maim was vastly better than seeing your figurative child pee on the doctor. You’re pretty sure your vet didn’t go through years of schooling and thousands of dollars into debt just to get peed on by your unruly cat. But Grim was won over by the offering of that cat gogurt, his nose and stomach betraying him. Note to self, stock up on some of that stuff.

The rest of the visit went on without a hitch; he had some blood drawn, got his booster shot for rabies, and even managed to squeeze in a bonus nail trim. There was no evidence of any bite or puncture marks, so Grim by some miracle, did indeed have enough brain cells not to get bit.

“Grim will have to be watched for about forty-five days,” the vet hummed, checking Grim’s chart. “Since you don’t have any other animals it shouldn’t be too difficult to keep him in quarantine. If you see any symptoms be sure to bring him back, just in case.” They gave you a tired smile, and then turned that smile towards their cantankerous patient. “And thank you for deciding not to pee on me this time, Grim. I’m not so bad, see?”

Grim swatted at them, which was his answer to the vet’s question. In Grim’s book, the vet was that bad.

Ignoring his attitude, as you would whenever you came across a screaming toddler and exhausted parent while doing your grocery run, you turned back to your vet. “Thank you, and sorry for Grim. If it makes you feel any better, he’s just as much as a gremlin child at home as well.” At least today went better than last time.

The vet chuckled goodheartedly, “Don’t worry about it, I have more unruly patients than little Grim here.”

Damn, they have seen some shit, haven’t they? … Maybe I should, I don’t know, bring them a gift basket next time I’m in? Or maybe a gift card for a spa day or something??? You should really get them something for the amount of dry cleaning they probably needed to do.

With the visit over, and Grim having a clear bill of health, you shoved him back into his carrier with zero decorum, closing the door as fast as possible before he could escape and try to hide behind the counter like he did last time. I know your tricks, cat. Speaking of bills, the one that was waiting for you at the front desk was enough for you to point an icy glare at your unruly ward.

“You’re lucky that I love you, asshole.” And much like the vet you too got a swat as your thank you. Wonder if this is what the Clovers feel about their children? At least their kids didn’t wake them up in the middle of the night with a bat they caught… You shook your head, moving past those thoughts, and hauled your wailing cat back home.

…

...

By the time you got back to your place, it was just a little past noon. The rest of your day was wide open, and you didn’t really have anything else to do, since taking Grim to the vet was the most urgent of your tasks. Your place could benefit from some tidying, since your boss had recently been demanding more as of late and has been even less useful than he usually was… which was saying something. Seriously, how does he have his position? It was baffling. You swore you could hear his monologue playing on loop in your head whenever you thought of the man, which you tried to keep to a minimum for your own sanity… whatever little of it still remained that is.

Shaking your head to rid the annoying voice, you put on your favourite playlist and got to work. You took your time, putting away the dishes, vacuumed the main room, and even got rid of the dust on the high shelves. But your place was small, so it didn’t take very long for you to tidy up, and deep cleaning could wait for another day when you had enough energy to mentally and physically deal with that undertaking.

You knew that your email probably had a few messages, but it could wait. You weren’t on the clock and therefore didn’t have to check it. Only do the stuff you’re required to do when you get paid, it makes your downtime way more enjoyable.

But, you were bored. The cleaning helped with it, but with the majority of it done and the more intense stuff waiting for another day, you had nothing else to do. And while doom scrolling through social media may fill in the time, it too, was boring, predictable.

… There were two people though who were the exact opposite of boring and predictable. And yes, they did give you your fair share of migraines and questioning your life decisions more than you usually do, they were your best friends. And you were in need of having a movie night with them.

Opening up the group chat, you typed in a message.

| The Responsible One | You guys down for a movie night at my place tonight?

And almost immediately, Ace replied.

| Ginger, derogatory | depends  | ya got fiid?

Deuce responded shortly after.

| Mama’s Boi | Yeah, I’m down | What time? | . . . | And what’s fiid?

|The Responsible One | How does 6 sound?

| Ginger, derogatory | IT WAS A TYOP | *TYPO | I MEANT FOOD | F O O D

| Mama’s Boi | 6 works for me

| The Responsible One | I took a screenshot of that btw love you Ace | Thanks Deuce for actually giving me an answer. | What FIID do you guys want?

| Ginger, derogatory | FUCK YOU | … but yeah 6 works 4 me | any is cool with me

| The Responsible One | Yes yes, fuck you too Ace | Bring your own snacks it is then | See you guys at 6!

That gave you about ninety minutes to hide your good snacks, since the last time, Ace had made himself too comfortable and ate all your fancy treats that you paid way too much for. But like they say, you deserve to ‘treat yoself’ … Ace still owed you for those snacks though. They were fucking expensive, prick.

…

Ninety minutes didn’t take very long, but you managed to hide some of the mess that you hadn’t tackled in your bedroom; it could stand to wait. And the first of your dork friends arrived right on time, count on Deuce trying to be punctual… even if he was panting like he had run a marathon to make it.

“You know,” you sighed, “you didn’t have to sprint here.” You grabbed a glass, filled it with some ice water, and handed it over to your flushed and heaving friend. Please don’t pass out on me. “It’s not a race.”

Deuce took the glass and downed it, still catching his breath. He lifted up the tote bag he was carrying, “Mom made brownies.” A series of coughs escaped him, but he gave you a bashful smile and showed off the multiple Tupperware containers filled to the brim with still warm chocolatey divineness. “Didn’t want them to get cold! Oh! She also made extra for you too!”

He is such a sweetheart… but he’s also pretty dense at times, still a sweetie though. You could have just warmed them back up in the microwave — yes, they weren’t the same as fresh from the oven, but still — you didn’t have the heart to tell Deuce that though. He looked so proud that he made it on time and that the brownies were still warm. What did you do to deserve Deuce as a friend? 

“Also,” he fished around the tote bag, “I brought extra popcorn, since we ate all of yours last time.” And he pulled out an unopened bag of popcorn, the bashful smile turning bright.

Deuce took a step forward, but stopped and backpedalled, taking off his shoes. After he set them neatly by the door, he made his way to the kitchen, and set all of his assorted belongings on the meagre counter space. Once he unloaded the tasty cargo, he made his way over to your loveseat, which had seen better days, and sat down, getting comfortable.

He was looking at you, and there was a little crease in between his eyebrows. Deuce only wore that look when he was worried. “Are you feeling okay? You seem a bit… off.” 

You gave him a tired smile, “Meh. Tired, stressed, not enough money. You know, the usual.” You noticed that his frown was only deepening, so you took a seat next to him and patted his shoulder. “Seriously, Deuce, I’m okay. Plus you got enough on your own plate without worrying about me. I’m going to be fine.”

Deuce pursed his lips, but let out a long sigh, accepting your answer without much fuss. You were capable of dealing with whatever it was, he knew that. You were one of the most capable, and stubborn, people that he knew. You would be fine in the end. “Whose turn is it to pick the movie this time?” He asked, stretching out, trying not to bump into you.

“Hmm, your turn actually,” you hummed. “But–”

Bzz! Bzzz! BZZZ! Someone was buzzing your door, repeatedly pushing at the button. Only one person you know did that. BZZZZZZZZ! And he wouldn’t let up until you answered the door.

Groaning, you got out of your spot and peaked through the peephole. On the other side was none other than Ace, who’s leg was bouncing and he kept on pushing your damn buzzer.

You only opened the door when he decided to lean on it, making him almost fall… almost. Maybe next time would be the day where you would see him eat dirt. “Happy you could join us on this lovely evening,” you drawl, doing a little bow.

Ace rolled his eyes at you, “Seriously? Feeling petty tonight I see.” He too took off his shoes, since the last time he wore them in and tracked in mud from outside, you made him clean it up. He learned his lesson that day, and really didn’t feel like cleaning your floor again.

You smiled at him, “Yeah, yeah I am~” You dropped the smile and went back to your comfy spot beside Deuce. “Also,” you turned around right as Ace was about to plunder your fridge. You glared at him, and he backed off, giving you a sheepish look. “Don’t even think about stealing my food, there’s popcorn and you have food at your home. Unless you want to start paying for my groceries, stick to what’s on the counter.”

Closing the fridge, Ace busied himself by making himself some popcorn, and sneaking a brownie or two in his mouth as he waited for the microwave to finish making his treat. While he was busy in the kitchen, you and Deuce were slowly going through the seemingly endless catalogue of movies. 

“What are we even watching tonight? There’s no special occasion,” Ace mused, sitting on the counter, swinging his legs back and forth. “Action? Horror? Sci-fi? Perhaps,” he paused and made a kissy face, “romance?~”

You stared at him, until he dropped the kissy face. “Never do that again,” you deadpanned, turning back to the screen. “Found something?”

Deuce was hovering over a title, Labyrinth. “Can we watch this? Mom said it was one of her favourites when she was a kid.”

Ace plopped into the armchair, and started chowing down on his fresh popcorn. “Dude, your mom probs just had the hots for, uhhh, Jared? Or whatever his name is.”

You threw a pillow at him, but missed unfortunately, and Ace flipped you off. “First off, Ace, his name is Jareth not Jared. And yeah, we can watch it,” you said, stretching back and getting into prime comfortable blob position. Oh yeah, you weren’t getting back up. 

Once Deuce got up and brought some snacks back in, you started the movie. And damn, these brownies are divine. You really needed to ask Ms. Spade for her recipe. The popcorn was decent, overall meh, but the brownies! THE BROWNIES!!!

You all settled down after being rationed your snacks, and you pressed play. Ace and Deuce both nearly choked on popcorn when Jareth appeared.

“WHY ARE HIS PANTS SO TIGHT?!” They both choked in unison. 

You just rolled your eyes and ignored them, trying to focus on the movie. Other than you nearly having to do the Heimlich manoeuvre on the both of them, the movie continued without incident, until a certain gremlin decided to start crying right as Magic Dance began playing. Seriously Grim, must you choose the most inopportune time to act like Toby does in the movie? But that’s life with a cat.

You paused the movie and looked at Deuce. You were in prime comfortable blob mode, you weren’t getting up. Deuce patted you on the shoulder and went to go see what on Earth Grim was screaming about. Ace just continued to scarf back brownies, thank goodness you hid some away before he got here, or else you wouldn’t have any come tomorrow.

But Deuce came running back out of your room, since that was where Grim was. And you were about to question why he looked like he’d just seen a ghost when something blurred right past him; something small, fuzzy, and flying.

The damn bat is back?! Yeah, you definitely felt like you were cursed.

Now, you could either get up and deal with the bat, since Deuce was just trying to shoo it outside the window with a mop and Ace was screaming much like Grim was, or you could stay warm and comfy and hide under the blanket, pretending that this wasn’t your waking reality…

Option B was really tempting right now, to be honest. Sighing, you got up, massaged your temples to collect yourself, before arming yourself with a broom yet again. Grim has his rabies vaccine, you don’t, so you weren’t taking any chances.

“WHY IS THERE A BAT IN YOUR APARTMENT?!” Ace hissed, ducking as the bat swooped near him.

You opened the window right open, almost threatening to take it off its bearings, “Because the universe hates me, that’s why!” Was it dramatic? Yes. Did it contain a seed of truth? Yes. So that’s what you went with. Was it really an exaggeration though? In the past twenty-four hours it really felt like the universe was sending you a personal ‘Fuck You ♡ ' letter with a kiss mark on the envelope.

You and Deuce tried to work together as a team to coax the bat outside. Come on, the window is wide open. Come on bat, get your fuzzy ass out of my place. 

All that was happening though, was some scene that belonged in a Three Stooges act. With Ace and Grim screeching — yes they counted as one collective unit — Deuce trying his best, but not getting anywhere, and you feeling like you were about to explode from the stress and noise. Even on an impromptu day off, you didn’t get a break, not really.

Getting whisked away by the Goblin King is looking real appealing right now. The bat swooped down close to you, and your instincts kicked in and you swung at it, making it crash land into your coffee table, right into the popcorn. And alongside the popcorn getting spilled everywhere, there was also a poof of green sparkles.

When the green sparkles subsided, there was a strange person with long black hair and red streaks, wearing something that looked straight out of a Ren Faire, and he was standing on your table. The strange man looked straight at you, and you looked back, blinking fast. Did Ms. Spade give us a different kind of brownie? Or is this actually happening?

He snapped his fingers, and you watched as he slowly disappeared into another poof of green sparkles. You were backing up, since hey there was a stranger in your place out of nowhere, but thanks to your shit luck, you tripped over your own feet, tumbling into them. And as the green poof subsided, both you, and the stranger, were nowhere to be seen. Leaving a very confused Ace, Deuce, and Grim to wonder what the hell happened to you.

And honestly? You were thinking the same. Where the FUCK am I?!

...

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Tags; @busycloudy, @eynnwwyjth, @identity-theft-101, @ithseem, @krenenbaker, @ryker-writes, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii

~~~~~~~

Author's Note; And I'm finally showing this to the world, after months of collecting dust in my Google Docs. I have no idea how long this fic will go on for, and the length may be dictated by how much feedback and interaction this gets, so yeah. General rating for this is Teen but might change in the future; I won't tag people if that happens though, cuz, yeah.

If you enjoyed this story, and want to read more of my stuff while I slowly work on more installments to this fic, check out my masterlist! Please ignore any spelling mistakes, I write and die with no beta.

[cozage]

Zoro, Sanji, Luffy, Law, and Ace with fem S/O with healing water powers. The catch is that whenever she uses those powers, she feels pain from the wounds she’s healing. And this isn’t a Devil Fruit ability. It’s sorta like water bending from Avatar.

A/N: I really debated on how to lay this one out, but I chose to have them find out about her power. If anyone wants a head canon follow up on how they act now that they know, send me an ask :) I maybe made this a bit too long, but those soft moments with each of these boys are my WEAKNESS. (Law may seem a little OOC but I truly believe that man gets tunnel vision when he sees you in pain)

Characters: F! reader x Zoro, Luffy, Sanji, Law, Ace

Cw: blood, pain, injuries, angst, all those fun things. Sanji’s contains slight spoilers for WCI

Total word count: 6.3k

The Pain of Healing

Zoro

Word count: 1.2k

“It’s only five more minutes until my Haki returns.” Luffy says between pants, trying to catch his breath. 

“Then I have five minutes to help you. Sit down.” 

Luffy collapsed onto the ground at your command, and you examined his body as he slept. It didn’t look good. His body was riddled with scrapes, scratches, bruises, and he was bleeding out from his side. Several minor injuries could be more painful than large ones, but Luffy had a mix of both. The best thing to do would be to focus on the large ones first, and if you have energy left, fix the small stuff as well. 

You guided water out of your flask and started with the hole in his side. You were used to the pain that came with healing by now, but it still made you flinch every time you started. You had to grind your teeth together to keep from crying out, not wanting to wake Luffy. He needed rest, and you didn’t want him to see the repercussions of your decision to help heal him anyway. 

After five minutes, you’ve taken all of the major injuries away from his body, and you managed to take a few small ones away from him as well. You wipe the tears from your eyes before you shake him awake. 

“It’s time, Luffy. Wake up.” You put on the biggest fake smile you can muster before his eyes flick open. 

“Aw man, that was the best nap in my entire life! I feel amazing!” You stay seated as he stands up, your body too riddled with pain to move. 

“Go get them, Captain!” It hurts to even speak, but Luffy’s already up stretching, too hyped up to notice your exhaustion.

“Thanks for whatever you did to make me feel so great! Leave the rest to me!” Luffy calls back, bounding off to finish the fight. 

Once he’s out of sight, you fold your head into your hands and weep. The pain was immeasurable, and every time you helped Luffy recover, you don’t understand how he’s still alive. You sit there for a long time, crying until there are no tears left. And then you hear cheers from the village nearby, signifying Luffy has won and your work paid off. Knowing that you helped him win makes you feel a little better, and you need to see everyone again. 

You stand up, ready to go meet the rest of the crew, but your body seems to disagree with your movement. Your legs shake, and when you go to take a step, you can feel your body collapsing, falling to the ground. You brace for the impact of your worn body against the solid ground, too tired to do anything else.

It doesn’t come, though. Someone catches you as you stumble forward. Strong arms wrap around your back and your legs, scooping you up and pressing you into his bare chest. Zoro. 

“Easy.” His expression is stone as he stares at you, but you can see worry underneath. “You gonna tell me what the hell you just did to Luffy?” 

You avert your eyes from his gaze, running the tip of your finger along the scar on his chest. “I healed him.”

You can feel his body tense with your words. “That didn’t look like healing to me. And since when do you have a Devil fruit power anyway?”

You bite your lip nervously. Nobody had caught you healing someone before. It wasn’t something you flaunted, or even something you told people about. “It’s not a devil fruit power.”

“Woman, if you don’t tell me-” he breaks off mid sentence, and you look around for any sign of danger. But there’s nobody around besides the two of you. You risk a glance up at him, and you see his face is pained as he stares down at you with a form of understanding. “You took his pain from him, didn’t you?”

Your mouth falls open from shock. You’re not sure how Zoro was able to guess something so accurate after seeing your power one time. You nod, confirming his suspicions. “He’s got an incredibly high threshold for pain tolerance.” 

“How are you still alive?” Zoro shakes you a little when he asks the question, which causes you to groan in pain. “Sorry, sorry. I’ll be more gentle. Do you want to sit? Stand?”

The thought of being upright makes you dizzy. “Can you just keep holding me for now?”

He nods, and returns to questioning you about your mysterious power instead. “Doesn’t it hurt?”

“Yeah.” It hurt to talk honestly, but you didn’t want to tell Zoro that. 

“How often have you been doing this?”

“Only like three or four times for Luffy, I think.” You're certain it’s been more than that, but you can’t tell Zoro that right now. 

“Three or four times?? For Luffy?” You can feel him trying to figure out the meaning behind your cryptic words. 

“There’s been a few other people I’ve done it for too.”

“Have you done it for me?” He's scowling at you, like he already knows the answer you’re going to give and he's waiting to scold you for it. 

“Maybe once or twice,” you lie, and you feel your cheeks burning. He squints at you, and you know you’ve been caught in the lie. But he says nothing, he just readjusts you in his arms to hold you closer. 

He had been walking for a few minutes, and you had almost fallen asleep. He had managed to keep you mostly still while he walked through the destroyed city, and you were too tired to care if he was lost or not. “It’s a neat power,” he finally comments. “You gonna tell me more about it? Or do I need to keep asking questions?”

“Can I tell you later?” You mumble into his chest. Between the safety of Zoro’s arms, the warmth of the sun on your face, and the exhaustion that’s set in from all that pain, it's hard for you to stay conscious. 

Zoro doesn’t say anything for a few moments, and you struggle to stay awake while you wait for an answer. He was never one for mindless chit chat, but you could tell that something was on his mind, so you decide to indulge him.

“It’s not a devil fruit. I was born with it,” You start, and you feel a heavy weight lift off your shoulders with those few words.  You’re so relieved that you can finally tell someone about your secret now. “I was never supposed to let anyone see it being used. If the World Government knew…” You trail off, thinking of how the Navy would turn you into a weapon. You shutter at the thought, and continue on in your explanation. 

“The power isn’t perfect, though. I feel the pain of whoever or whatever I heal. It’s not permanent, but if it’s too much for my body to handle at the moment, I might die. I’m really not sure, I’ve never tried to heal a fatal wound before.”

Zoro is looking off into the distance with a faraway look in his eye. “Just like Kuma.”

“Who?”

“Back on Thriller Bark we met a Marine named Kuma,” Zoro begins to explain, and you focus all your energy into listening to him. “He took all of Luffy’s pain and told me if we wanted to save Luffy, I had to take his pain upon myself. It was just after his big battle with the warlord Moria, and the pain…” he trailed off, and you knew he was reliving the moment in his mind. 

“Does he know about your sacrifice?” 

Your question brings him back to reality, and he looks down at you. He chuckles at your question, and bends over to kiss your forehead. “Does he know about yours?”

Sanji

Some light spoilers for WCI arc

Word Count: 1.2k

You didn’t realize that your ability was keeping Sanji up at night. 

Anytime he had a cut, or a burn, or any other kind of injury, you waited for him to doze off before you pulled out some water and healed his hands. The injuries were never serious, and after a few times, you barely noticed the pain. 

You didn’t mind, and you knew how much your boyfriend valued his hands. It was your silent act of love to him, something you wanted to give him but could never tell him about. One morning after you healed a bad burn, you found him sitting up in bed, staring at his hands. 

“Is something wrong, Sanji dear?”

The cook was examining his hands thoroughly, flipping them over again and again. “I could’ve sworn I had a burn here yesterday.”

Your cheeks tinted at the thought of being found out. “Oh, well maybe you just have superhuman healing powers!” You laugh it off, trying your best to act natural. 

“Yeah, maybe…” You could tell something was bothering him, but he didn't say anything further. 

You caught him staring at his hands throughout the day, as if he was waiting for a bomb to explode. At dinner you noticed a particularly bad cut on the topside of his hand - a cut he must’ve gotten while chopping vegetables - and you made a note to heal it that night. 

He stayed awake later than usual that night, and he seemed more wound up with anxiety than normal. You peppered his face with a few kisses, trying to get him to relax some. 

“Sanji, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” He sighed, pulling you into his chest and laying down to finally get some sleep. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

He fell asleep quickly with you pressed into him. His slow, even breaths signified he was finally unconscious, and you pulled out some water to cover his wound. It stung you a bit as his flesh stitched back together, and you let out a low hiss in pain, and you froze as Sanji stirred slightly in his sleep. This wound was deeper than his normal cuts and burns; he must’ve been really distracted when he hurt himself. He wasn’t usually so careless around knives, but you knew whatever was bothering him would be revealed when he was ready to talk to you about it.  

With his wound healed and Sanji’s breath returning to normal, you curled back into place against him, and fell deep into sleep.

You woke to a string of curses falling out of Sanji’s mouth, his body tight and tense against yours. 

“Hm? Sanji?” You rub the sleep from your eyes and open them to find him staring at his hands again. “Sanji, what’s wrong?”

“That’s impossible,” he mumbled, speaking mostly to himself. He looks panicked, staring down at the place where his cut was yesterday. “That’s not humanly possible.”

You feign innocence as you have in the past, but you can’t ignore the nervous look in his eyes. “What is it, Ji?”

“I had a cut here yesterday. It was deep.” His breathing quickened, and you could see that he was scared for some reason. “It couldn’t have healed overnight. It’s not…It can’t be…”

“I’m sure it’s just-”

“You don’t understand.” He cuts you off mid-sentence, something he’s never done before, and it takes you aback. He gets out of bed abruptly, his eyes never leaving his hand.

“Sanji?”

“I need to go. I need to get out of here.” He’s pacing the room now, his stress overflowing into the space between you. 

“Go where? Sanji, calm down. Talk to me-”

“I can’t be here! I can’t endanger you! Or anyone else, for that matter!” His face is contorted with such pain you’ve never seen before. You don’t know what’s going on with your boyfriend, but his reaction to such a small cut is starting to scare you.

You jump out of bed and stride over to him. When you reach him, you clasp his face between your hands, forcing his eyes away from his hands and up to your eyes. His eyes are wide with pure fear, and his breathing is rapid and shallow. You can feel his body shaking as you hold him. 

“Sanji.” You push down your own fear and speak to him in a soothing tone, trying to bring him back to you. “Talk to me.”

“I’m a monster, Y/N.” Tears fill his eyes, threatening to spill out as he speaks. “If my body is regenerating like this…I’m a threat to you all.”

“You’re not,” You whisper. “You’re not a monster, Sanji.” You stand on your tiptoes to try and kiss the space between his eyes, but he pulls away from you.

“You don’t know.” He backs away from you, fear returning to his eyes again. “I am a monster. And now that I’m-”

It’s your turn to cut him off now. “I healed you, Sanji.”

His brows furled in confusion, but his eyes looked less panicked now. “Wha..?”

“I have this power,” you explain. You walk back to the bedside table, gathering some water from a cup and suspending it in the air. “I can heal people with water. I’ve been healing your small injuries for a while now. I wanted to make your life easier, I swear. I’m sorry I kept it from you. I just…I wanted to help.”

You see him relax the more you explain your powers, which was not the reaction you were expecting. He watches you move the water through the air, and tears finally flow from his eyes. 

“Y/N-chan,” he sobs, running over to you, embracing you in a hug. He’s holding you tight, smothering you into his chest. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Why did you hide it?”

Your face burns against him, embarrassed that you had kept it from him for so long. “I’m not supposed to tell anyone, and I knew you wouldn’t want me hurting myself for you, but-”

“Hang on.” He pulls back from you, peering down at your face with a frown of concern. “You’re being hurt?”

“Just when I heal people,” you rush to explain, seeing his frown deepen. “I just feel the pain of the injuries I’m healing, it’s no big deal.”

“It is a big deal,” he corrects, staring at you disapprovingly. “Promise me you won’t do it anymore.”

“Sanji-”

“Promise, Y/N.”

“No! Let me do this for you!” You’re pouting now, but you know Sanji won’t cave on this matter. You know he can’t let you hurt yourself at his expense. 

“I appreciate that you want to help,” he says sternly. You can hear the love in his voice as he speaks, and you know you’ll have to agree to his request.  “But there are other ways for you to help me without hurting yourself. Please-”

“Fine. Promise.” You give him a fake pout, but when he pulls you back into his chest and holds you tightly, you melt into him. “Are you sure you’re okay, Ji? You seemed scared earlier.”

“I’m fine, really.” He rests his chin on the top of your head, drawing in a long breath before he says more. “I just thought my past was coming back to haunt me again, that’s all.”

You all stand there for a long while, just enjoying eachothers closeness. You only break apart when you hear Luffy screaming for breakfast, and you give him one last kiss on each of his hands before you let him go. 

Luffy

Word Count: 1.1k

“Stay still, idiot.” You held Luffy down, looking at his wound in his foot. 

“I can’t! It hurrrtttssss!” 

“That’s what you get for wearing sandals in the jungle!” You could tell from the way the stick speared through his foot, Luffy wouldn’t be able to walk easily, and you still had another half mile before you made it back to the ship. 

You knew you weren’t supposed to heal people while they were conscious, but this was Luffy. He was the love of your life, and the Strawhats were your only family. If you couldn’t trust them, you deserved to be locked up anyway. 

You sighed, pulling water out of your flask in soft, flowing movements. Luffy was still writhing in pain on the ground, overdramatic in his reaction to his current impalement. It was possible that you might be able to heal him without him even realizing it. 

You surrounded his foot with an orb of water, and imagined the wound being stitched together, just like your mother had taught you. You saw his rubbery skin begin to mend together, and braced yourself for what came next. 

Your grip on Luffy’s ankle tightened when the pain came. It was sharp and fast, and it took the breath out of your lungs. You squeezed your eyes shut, but kept your focus on the wound and the pain that came with it. 

“Wooooahhhh!” You could hear Luffy’s sigh of amazement, and you knew he had caught you healing his wound. “That’s so cool! The hole is just closing up!!”

You didn’t speak, afraid that your voice would betray you. The last thing you wanted Luffy to know was that you were in pain because of the healing process. You could hear him freaking out about how cool it was that his injury was healing before his own eyes, but you did your best to ignore him and focus on the healing process. You kept your eyes closed the entire time, using the level of pain to guide how much longer you had to fix his injury. Finally, the pain dulled, and then disappeared. You dropped his foot and opened your eyes again, trying to ignore the lingering effects that your body was dealing with. 

Luffy was examining his foot closely, looking at it from all angles to see if there was any damage. He stood up, putting all of his weight back on his foot, and jumped up and down a few times. 

“It’s like brand new!” He shouted with glee. He came over to you and wrapped you in a hug. “You’re the best, Y/N!”

--

Over the next few weeks, Luffy offered up your services to others throughout the ship. You knew that Luffy was incapable of keeping secrets, and you had never explicitly asked him to keep that information to himself. You never minded healing your family though, and the injuries were always minor. Luffy sent Ussop to you when he got a burn on his hand, and Franky when he got a bad cut on his face. Chopper sent Zoro when he had a sprained wrist. It wasn’t until Nami came to you with a nasty cut on her shoulder that the secret of your healing was revealed. 

You smiled when she asked, and pulled water out to start the healing process. You coated the wound in a bubble of water, and clenched your jaw to prepare for the worst. 

You were aware of Nami’s eyes watching you. Everyone else watched their own wound magically heal, but her eyes remained on your face, watching for any signs of discomfort on your end. You had a feeling that she was suspicious of your powers already. She had been the most interested member of the crew from the start, asking about the stipulations and origins of your power from the moment she had found out about it. 

You kept your eyes on the gash, trying your best to mentally steel yourself for the pain that would come. You knew it wouldn’t be easy to hide the pain, but you were determined to make it look natural. When the feeling of pain ripped through your shoulder to match her wound, you gritted your teeth and kept your smile, but you could feel your muscles involuntarily twitch. 

If Nami noticed, she said nothing. When you finished, you looked back up at her and let out a shaky breath, smiling. She eyed you suspiciously, but thanked you politely and left you alone. Once the door swung shut, you collapsed back onto the couch you were on, desperately needing a nap after that performance. 

--

Luffy was awoken by a smack on the head. 

“What?” He asked groggily. “Are we at the next island?”

“Are you some kind of sadist,” the tangerine-haired girl scolded, shaking her finger at him. “Or are you just a moron?”

“What are you talking about, Nami?”

Nami rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, staring daggers down at Luffy. “Y/N’s power.”

Luffy rubbed his head, wondering if you could fix headaches. “What about it?”

“She feels pain when she heals people, you idiot. She probably feels whatever pain she’s healing.”

Luffy’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean that she just healed my shoulder. And she was in some serious pain while she was doing it. She hides it well, but I could tell she was hurting.”

Luffy bit his lip, trying to think back to when you had healed him in the forest. But he had been so amazed at watching his own wound heal, he hadn’t noticed your reaction while you were doing it. 

“She seemed kind of tired after mine, but that’s it. I felt great though, so I carried her back to the ship!”

“So you are just a moron!” Nami punched him again. “No more free healing! Stop taking advantage of her!”

--

You woke up from your nap to rubber arms wrapped around you and Luffy’s round eyes staring at you intensely.

“Good morning,” you groan, trying to pull away from him to stretch. 

He let you go enough to stretch out, but kept a tight grip on you. “Does it hurt?”

You freeze mid-stretch, silently cursing Nami for her hyper awareness. “It just makes me tired.”

“You’re lying.” He knows you so well. You move your fingers up to his hair, twirling his locks around your index finger.

“Yeah,” you sigh the word out. You’re painfully aware of his gaze, transfixed on your face.

 “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because Luffy, it’s not that bad.” Your eyes move back to his finally, and you can see the hurt and confusion that is held within them. “And I like doing what I can to help my family.”

He nods, accepting that answer, and snuggles up into your chest, holding you tightly against him. You let him lay there for a while, twirling his soft strands of hair around in your fingers. There are few quiet moments between you and Luffy, and you cherish every moment you can get like this.

“Nami said no more free healings, by the way.”

You laugh and give his forehead a quick kiss. “Guess I’ll have to charge you double.”

Law

Word Count: 1.2k

“Fuck.”

Law’s breath was ragged as you pressed into his stomach wound. Blood coated your hands as you tried to stop the bleeding, but it didn’t seem to be working very well. 

“I just need to...” Law coughed, and you could see red staining his lips. A small blue orb began to form in his palm, but it flickered out quickly. He was too weak to use his devil fruit powers.

“Fuck.” You repeated. There was only one thing you could do now. It meant exposing your secret and showing your captain your biggest weakness, but you’d do anything to save him. 

You pulled away from his wound, and let your hands guide water from your flask, maneuvering it through the air. “Don’t freak out,” you say, and you cover the wound in water. You let it sit for a moment, and then begin imagining the wound healing. 

It started as a dull, throbbing pain in your stomach. You began to think you were getting used to the pain, but then it began to grow, turning sharp and stabbing. You flinched at the sudden change in pain, but held your focus. 

Law watched you work for a few moments with wide eyes, unsure what was happening or what he could do. You wanted to scream from the pain that was growing rapidly, but you held your tongue, hoping he didn’t notice your facial expressions contorting into pain. Tears filled your eyes, and you finally felt Law move into action, his hand gripping around your wrists. 

“Stop,” he demanded, trying to push your arms away from his wound. You ignore his demand, keeping your arms locked against him, continuing the healing process at your expense. 

“Stop! Y/N-ya, Stop it!” His voice rose in pitch, and you could tell he sensed your pain. His efforts to push you away are getting stronger, proof that his energy is returning to him. You feel relieved in the fact that he is healing, even if it is exhausting you in the process. 

He finally succeeds in pushing you off him, and you fall backwards to the ground and lay there, dazed and stunned from your work. He quickly straddles you and pins your arms to the ground to ensure you’ve fully stopped whatever you had started doing to him. 

“What the hell are you doing?!” Law stares down at you, angry and scared of what you’ve done. 

You know his rage is out of fear, and you give him a small smile, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes. “You okay now?”

He stares at you, baffled at your question. He has energy now, and his wound in his stomach is almost completely healed. He knows it’s due to you, but he doesn’t know how you’ve managed to heal him so quickly. Fear. Betrayal. Anger. So many emotions run through him all at once. He has so many questions that he doesn’t know where to start. 

He tightens his grip around your wrists, keeping you pinned down. “Explain.”

“It’s a power I was born with,” you say, closing your heavy eyes. “I can heal other people’s injuries through water.”

Law watches you carefully, certain that you’re hiding something. He squeezes your wrists tighter until you finally open your eyes again, looking anywhere but at him. 

You can’t make eye contact with him or you know you’ll tell him everything. You can’t afford for him to know your secret, it was bad enough that he knew this much. 

“You were in pain.” He says it as a statement, not a question.

You squirm from underneath him, trying to get free, but his grip doesn’t let up. He’s determined to get to the bottom of what you just did. He needs to protect you. He needs to keep you safe from all harm, even if that means protecting you from yourself. 

“Let go.” You say, still trying to get free. His grip is starting to become painful, and you try to pull your arms away from him again. “You’re hurting me, Law. Let go.”

His eyes stare down at you, unmoving from his current position. The more you squirm, the tighter his grip gets, and you know he won’t let go until he has an answer. “Y/n-ya, why were you in pain?”

“It’s a side effect!” You cry out in frustration, finally giving in. You suspect he knew the moment he saw it. “I feel the person’s pain as I heal them.”

In his shock, Law’s hands loosen their grip, and you finally pull free from him. You try to turn away from him, but he’s still sitting on your stomach, and you don’t have enough energy to push him off. You rub at your wrists, trying to get the sting from his grip out of your body.

Law is frozen, staring down at you with wide eyes. He grits his teeth, watching you massage your wrists. “I’m sorry,” he says, reaching for your hands again, more gentle this time. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

You let him grab one of your hands, and he begins massaging your wrists gently, whispering apologies to you. You close your eyes and try to forget that you’ve broken your number one rule about your power: telling other people. You focus on his wrist massage for a while, his own way to apologize for his outburst.

“Y/n-ya?”

“Hm?”

“Why did you save me?”

You sigh, opening your eyes again. This time, you meet his gold eyes, radiant against the sunlight. “You never want anyone to save you, Captain.”

“It’s my job as a ca-”

“I saved you because I love you, you idiot.”

You can see Law’s eyes twitch in surprise; his hands freeze against your wrist. 

“You don’t get to decide what sacrifices I make for you,” you continue. “You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do to save you. That’s my decision. You’ve made many sacrifices for me, some extremely painful ones. Remember the incident at Low Sand Creek?”

Law doesn’t respond, but he slowly starts to massage your wrists again, which you take as a sign to keep talking. 

“I don’t get to criticize your decisions on sacrifice. And you don’t get to criticize mine either. I love you, and I know you love me. Do I want you to risk your life for me? No. But that’s just something I have to live with. And so do you. Okay?”

Your captain says nothing, and you can tell he’s sulking over your lecture. It wasn’t uncommon for you to have to do this with him. Law was one of the smartest people you knew, but relationships weren’t really his strong suit. It resulted in you having to do a lot of explaining and voicing your needs.

“Law, do you understand?” You insist, needing to stand your ground. He had a tendency of not responding when he didn’t agree with something.  

He huffs out an irritated breath. “Okay.”

You scrunch your face at him, shooting him a semi-fake glare. 

“I understand, okay?!”

You twisted your hand to intertwine with his, and grabbed his other hand with your free one so that both of his hands were now holding each of yours. You locked eyes with him, and you could see there was something else there, something that was bothering him. 

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

He was quiet for a moment, as if he were working up the courage to admit whatever he was feeling. His eyes moved away from your gaze and focused on one of his hands instead, still intertwined with yours. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice comes out slightly choked, and you realize that you had forgotten to explain the most important part to him. 

Your cheeks redden, embarrassed at your oversight. His eyes snapped back to yours, and now it was your turn to avoid eye contact.  

“It’s… I was told to never tell anyone about it. Or let someone else see it.”

You can feel him staring at you, his eyes willing you to look at him, but you refuse. He waits patiently, and you know he’s asking you a silent question: Don’t you trust me?

“I trust you, I just…” Neither you or Law had really talked about your past much. You preferred to live for the now, for the future. The past was just too painful to think about. “People died protecting that secret. I didn’t want to add more names to that list.”

Law gave a dark chuckle at your response. “And after all that preaching about not deciding who gets to make sacrifices.”

Now it’s your turn to sulk. “That is not-“

He cuts you off, pulling you up to meet him, and his lips collide with yours. 

He pulls back briefly, basking in your beauty. “No more secrets. Promise?”

“Promise.” 

Ace

Word Count: 1.5k

Ace wasn’t used to being hit, and when someone made contact with him, it hurt. He grimaced as he limped from battle, blood dripping down his leg from the giant puncture wound in his thigh. You had your arm around him, helping him run, but his injury was slowing you both down, and the enemy was closing in quickly.

“Sit,” you commanded. “Let me help.”

“I just need to get back to Marco, he can help.” His breathing was labored, and you knew he was expending too much energy just speaking to you. 

“I can heal too.” You helped him sit down, and you could feel his eyes staring at you, trying to understand your cryptic words. You chose to ignore him for now, and examined the wound. It was deep, but manageable. You braced yourself, and summoned some water out of your flask, covered his wound, and focused on stitching it back together. 

Pain ripped through you, and you had to bite your lip to keep yourself focused. It wasn’t the worst pain you had felt, but the wound was deeper than you had initially thought, and you could feel your muscles tearing apart, just like Ace’s had when he was cut. You knew that it was just a phantom pain, no actual bodily harm was being done to you, but it was still pain nonetheless. 

You could feel tears pooling at the corner of your eyes, but you refused to stop until the job was done. You watched his muscle stitch back together, and when it was finally completely healed, you sat back and closed your eyes, exhausted and riddled with aches. 

When you opened your eyes again, you could see Ace in front of you, you could feel him shaking you violently. He was screaming something, but you couldn’t make out exactly what he was saying over the loud ringing in your ears. Slowly, your hearing returned, and you realized he was screaming your name. 

“Ace.” Your words were slow. You were still trying to come out of the fog of pain that always came with healing. “Stop shaking me.”

He finally stopped, but his hands were still tightly gripping your shoulders. He was staring at you in terror, fear spread across his face. 

“What were you doing?” His voice was loud and piercing, causing you to flinch. “How did you…What do…Where did…” He struggled to find the right words, and you stared at him with still-glazed eyes while he tried to form a sentence. You were struggling to refocus after the pain, and were thankful that Ace was tongue-tied for the moment. 

Ace took a breath, finally able to form a sentence. “I didn’t know you had a devil fruit power.”

“I don’t.” Normally you let people believe whatever they wanted in order to guard your secret, but this was Ace. If you couldn’t trust him, you couldn’t trust anyone. “It’s just an ability I was born with. I can heal people with water.”

Ace’s facial expressions had always been easy to read. Even in your dazed state, you watched as his concern turned to shock and then to confusion. You waited for the inevitable question to come, and it did. “If you’ve had this power, why haven’t you used it more often?” 

“I…” you hesitate. You didn’t want to tell him the weakness of your ability. Not because you didn’t trust him, but because you did. You knew that if Ace discovered the trade off of your powers, he would never want you to suffer for him or anyone else. 

You had told Marco about your power when you joined the crew, and the doctor had forbid you using your ability except in dire circumstances. Marco trusted you to make judgment calls on what you could handle, but you didn’t think Ace would feel the same way. 

You could hear the enemy's battle cries getting closer, and you take the opportunity to avoid the question. “Let’s go. We need to get back to the ship.”

Ace stands, and you follow to do the same. You take a bit longer to get to your feet, still light-headed from the trade off of healing Ace. His attention has shifted to the enemy pursuing you now, and thankfully he doesn’t seem to notice your sluggish movements. 

Ace’s fist becomes engulfed with flames, and he stands between the enemy and you. “Go back to the ship, I’ll hold them off.” 

“Idiot! That’s what got us here in the first place!” 

“Yeah,” He smirked back at you like the devilish fiend you knew he was. “But this time I won’t lose.”

You can feel your knees start to go weak, but you’re not sure if it’s from exhaustion or from the man in front of you. You hate to leave him, but you know you’ll only be a liability in this fight. With Ace’s energy replenished and the ability to fight in an open space, he’d finish off the enemy easily now. 

“You better not die.” Your words hang in the air, and you take off towards the Moby Dick. 

As soon as you got aboard the ship, you went straight to your room. You didn’t bother giving a report. Ace would do that when he returned. Sleep was what you needed now. 

—

You woke with arms wrapped around you tightly, and the warm body of Portgas D. Ace pressed against your back. You weren’t sure how long you had slept, but there was no longer any light coming in through the porthole in your room. You shifted, trying to get out of Ace’s grasp without waking up, but his strong arms tightened against you when you moved, keeping you close to him. 

For a long while you laid in the silence, unsure if Ace was asleep or awake. He wasn’t snoring like he normally did when he was asleep and he refused to let you move away from his grasp, but his breaths were even and he didn’t speak to you. You didn’t mind the quiet, your body was still exhausted from the fighting and the pain of healing today, and Ace’s warmth was almost therapeutic against your tired body.

“Your healing…” Ace's voice finally breaks the silence, making you tense from surprise. His voice was low and quiet in your ear. “It hurts you, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

You can hear the sadness in his voice, and you know that he’s figured it out. Whether he solved it on his own or if Marco told him, it didn’t matter now. You’ve always been a bad liar, and you could never bring yourself to lie to Ace anyway.

He squeezed you tighter, pulling you closer to him. There was another long pause, and you let him hold you while he processed everything. 

“How bad is it?” His voice is level, but you can hear it beginning to grow thick with tears. 

“It depends on what I heal. I just feel the pain of the injury.”

His forehead presses into the crook of your neck, and his breath becomes shallow and ragged. You can feel his emotions coursing through him, and all you want to do is comfort him. You squirm, trying to flip over so you see his face while you talk, but his iron tight grip refuses to let you move. 

“Ace,” you speak gently, your hands pulling at his arms, and his grip loosens just enough for you to turn over onto your other side. You’re laying face to face with him now, but his eyes are squeezed shut. His freckled cheeks are wet with tears, and your heart constricts seeing his sadness. 

You press your forehead against his, and use your free hand to brush some of his hair away from his face. You continue softly sweeping your fingers through his hair, soothing him as you speak. “It’s not so bad, Ace. But that's why I don’t use it very often.”

His eyes are still closed, but you feel his hands ball into fists against your back, gathering the fabric of your shirt in them.

“Why did you use it to save me then?” His voice comes out more of a demand than a question. It’s harsh, and you know he’s angry. Maybe at you, maybe at himself, probably both. His question makes you freeze, your fingers still entangled in his strands of hair. 

You feel a slight prick of irritation at his question. You pull your head back and tilt his face up to look you in the eyes, but they’re still tightly shut. “Look at me,” you demand, your tone matching his from a moment ago. You feel him stiffen slightly at the intensity of your words, but his dark eyes open to meet your own. 

Your hands find his cheeks, cupping his face, and you press your forehead back into his. Your eyes never leave his, and you can feel his grip against your back finally start to soften as he focuses on you instead of what you’ve done. 

“I did it.” You pause for a moment, still staring at him. God, he was so stupid. You swipe your thumb across his freckles, wiping the tears from his sad, sweet eyes. “Because you deserve to be saved.”

[mochinomnoms]

Idea: Yuu gets caught up in some circumstances involving Floyd and mates with him. Fully expecting rough ✨️fun✨️. Waiting to stop him for hurting them. Never does. Floyd starts with pleasuring his soon-to-be-mate, preparing them, and THEN penetrates. Catches them off guard, but they love it.

Cut to the next morning. Floyd panics 'cause oh shit, goes, "well, I'm not gonna be a bad mate, so I have other things to do!" (Internally), makes Yuu breakfast, is super gentle. They're stunned, because isn't Floyd the rough one? Not with them!

They go to class and get in a fight with Ace (didn't sleep well) who slaps them on the way to lunch and goes to the infirmary with a crushed windpipe. Ace is fine, and Yuu realizes Floyd is very protective. Cue human falling for moray head over heels.

Ta-da! Power couple.

-nightshade anon

Aaa! So cute!! Floyd has always been known to be rough, both above and under the sea. But once someone has taken his interest, especially as a potential mate, there's an obvious change. Not a personality change, he's still as Floyd as ever. But the morning after reveals a much softer side to him.

He's offering you a sweet breakfast, which was confusing as you expected him to kinda…yeet out. He keeps talking about mating, the irony of you being his Shrimpy, and handing a protective arm over you as you ate in bed. It's a surprise, and it continues as you two head off to class later on. He's still handing a protective arm over you, other students giving you two a wide berth to walk through the hallways.

When Floyd sees you off, Jade comes by to walk to class with his brother, he makes an offhanded comment about Floyd being a rather protective mate. It doesn't really click with you until later, when you and Ace are arguing, with him smacking the top of your head.

It was meant to be playful. It was meant to be a gesture between bickering friends.

So Floyd's had coming up behind Ace, grabbing his hand and squeezing until you hear a crunch, was a horrifying surprise. Floyd's confused himself when you're frantically yelling at him for hurting your friend, rushing Ace over to the infirmary as Floyd follows, calling out about how “It's my job to protect my mate! He hit you! That's not allowed!”

Ace, ultimately, is fine. One of the benefits of magical worlds is that things like broken bones are relatively easy to fix. Ace will have to wear a cast for a few days, just to give the magic some time to heal his bones back into place. And he's pissed at Floyd, but also at you for not mentioning that you mated with the stupidly tall merman.

He has to explain, “I heard merfolk are super overprotective with their mates, they'll get into all sorts of fights for them. Man, if I'd known you were with Floyd like that, I'd have never smacked you.”

So you have an eel bodyguard of a boyfriend? You can't deny that the thought makes you a little warm. Floyd, being so soft to you, and only you, while he roughhoused with everyone else. You should run to Floyd to shower him with affections. He's still pretty pouty about you yelling at him.