#gets decked in the face in the process

[humanfox030]

Hoid going through the Perpendicularity in Secret History

[inseobts]

(Accidental) PDA

characters: zoro, sanji, law, ace, kid

gn!reader

words count: around 300-500 each

(shanks, usopp, mihawk, crocodile, sabo)

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

Roronoa Zoro:

The crew is gathered at a lively tavern, drinks flowing, laughter echoing off the wooden walls. You’re seated next to Zoro, who, as usual, seems more focused on his drink than the conversation. His arm is draped casually along the back of the bench, and at some point, probably without realizing it, his fingers start lightly tracing circles on your shoulder.

It’s absentminded, subconscious, but you notice.

And so does everyone else.

You don’t say anything at first, just letting yourself enjoy the rare show of affection. Zoro isn’t exactly the touchy type, so the feeling of his rough, calloused fingers against your skin is something to savor. You lean into him just a little, and his grip unconsciously tightens.

Then, Sanji snickers “Didn’t take you for the clingy type, Marimo.”

Zoro’s fingers stops instantly.

You can practically hear the gears turning in his head as he replays the last few minutes, piecing together what just happened. His arm stiffens, and when you glance up, you find his face frozen in mild horror, like his own body has just betrayed him.

“What the hell are you talking about?” His voice comes out a little too sharp, too defensive, which only makes Sanji smirk wider.

“Oh, nothing” The cook takes a drag of his cigarette “It’s just cute, that's all. Didn’t think you’d be the type to get all touchy in public.”

Zoro yanks his arm back so fast you almost fall sideways “I wasn’t!” He groans, rubbing his face like he can physically scrub the moment from existence “It wasn’t on purpose.”

You stifle a laugh, reaching up to pat his arm “Relax, Zoro. It’s fine.”

He glares at you, but there’s a bit of redness creeping up his neck “I don’t do that stuff in public.”

Sanji hums, clearly enjoying this way too much “Mhm. Sure. Just keep telling yourself that.”

Zoro grumbles something under his breath, clearly ready to die on this hill. But even as he crosses his arms and scowls at his drink, his knee remains pressed against yours under the table.

Accidental or not, you’ll take what you can get.

Vinsmoke Sanji:

The sun is setting over the Sunny, casting golden hues across the deck. Dinner is long over, but most of the crew lingers, full and satisfied. You sit beside Sanji near the railing, listening to the breeze and the distant laughter of the others. He’s in a good mood, smiling as he talks to you about a new dessert he’s planning, something with caramel and sea salt, he says, because “a contrast of flavors makes things more exciting, mon amour.”

You roll your eyes at the nickname but don’t bother fighting it. Sanji flirts like he breathes, and by now, you’ve just learned to go along with it.

Then, it happens.

You’re mid-sip of your drink when Sanji, without thinking, reaches out and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

It’s so natural, so smooth, that it takes you a second to process what just happened. The conversation around you continues, but you feel frozen, heat creeping up your neck.

Sanji, of course, remains utterly unaware. He keeps talking like nothing’s happened, his fingers lingering near your ear for just a moment before pulling away. It wasn’t even a grand gesture, just an absentminded, casual thing. But the way it makes your heart stutter? Absolutely unfair.

Unfortunately, someone does notice.

“Oi, Sanji,” Usopp teases, leaning over the table with a shit-eating grin “Didn’t know you were already at the ‘tucking their hair back like a romance novel protagonist’ stage.”

Sanji blinks “Hah?”

Nami chuckles “That was smooth, even for you.”

Sanji frowns, clearly replaying the last few seconds in his head. His hand twitches, as if only now realizing what it just did. He looks at you, at your slightly wide eyes, at the way you’re still holding your drink midair like an idiot, and then… it hits him.

“Oh—!” His face erupts into red “I—I wasn’t—! That was—!”

He immediately buries his face in his hands, groaning “Shit… I didn’t even notice I—!”

“You touched their hair, Sanji,” Usopp deadpans, grinning. “That’s practically a confession.”

Sanji sputters, waving his arms dramatically “It’s not like that! I— I just—” He stops, then sighs, rubbing his temples. “Mon dieu…”

You watch him, amused. The smooth-talking, ever-flirty Sanji, reduced to a blushing mess over one small gesture.

You smile. Maybe you didn’t mind it so much after all.

Trafalgar D. Water Law:

Trafalgar Law doesn't do public displays of affection. The man acts like love is a classified disease, and he’s the only doctor qualified to handle it.

Which is why the Heart Pirates are absolutely living for this moment.

It starts small, Bepo makes an offhand comment about how you and Law seem weirdly close today. And by that, he means Law has casually draped an arm around your waist while reading his book.

Then it escalates.

Law, your usually grumpy, no-nonsense captain, absentmindedly feeds you a bite of his food at dinner. Like it’s nothing. Like this is normal.

The crew goes silent.

Then whispers.

Then snickering.

Shachi elbows Penguin “Did you see that?”

“I felt that” Penguin whispers back, eyes wide.

“Are we being punked?” Ikkaku mutters “Is this a medical experiment or what?”

Meanwhile, Law, completely oblivious, keeps eating... until he notices just how unnaturally quiet everyone has gotten. He glances up, fork mid-air, only to be met with a table full of smug grins and barely contained laughter.

“…What?” he asks, narrowing his eyes.

Bepo smiles innocently “Nothing, Captain. Please, continue being adorable.”

Law blinks. Then slowly turns to you, as if just now realizing what he’s done.

You, being the absolute menace that you are, grin and open your mouth again, waiting for another bite.

A muscle in his jaw twitches.

“You’re enjoying this” he mutters.

“Oh, immensely.”

Law exhales through his nose, looking between the crew and you. For a second, it seems like he’ll retreat, go full grumpy captain mode,

but instead, he smirks, leans in, and presses a quick kiss to your cheek.

The chaos that erupts is instant.

Shachi falls out of his chair. Penguin screams. Bepo claps. Ikkaku nearly chokes on her drink.

Law, of course, acts like nothing happened and goes right back to eating.

But the red tips of his ears? Oh yeah. That’s a win.

Portgas D. Ace:

The bonfire crackles, casting a golden glow over the Whitebeard Pirates as laughter and conversation fill the night air. You’re sitting next to Ace, comfortably close, the warmth of the fire mingling with the heat radiating off his skin.

He’s relaxed, grinning as he chats with Marco, one arm casually slung over the back of the log where you're sitting. It's nothing unusual... Ace has always been a little touchy without thinking much of it. But at some point, his fingers start absentmindedly playing with the ends of your hair, twirling and tugging in slow, lazy motions.

You blink.

The conversation continues like nothing’s happening, and Ace doesn’t seem to notice what he’s doing. It’s almost endearing, the way he’s so comfortable, so unaware, until Thatch smirks over his tankard and loudly clears his throat.

“Well, well” Thatch drawls, tapping his mug against Marco’s “Didn’t realize we were in the middle of a romantic drama. Should we leave you two alone?”

Ace freezes mid-twist of your hair.

His fingers tighten ever so slightly before he slowly lets the strand slip from his grip. The realization crashes down on him in real-time, his freckles disappearing under the deepening red of his face.

“Huh?” His voice cracks slightly “I...That’s not...”

Marco chuckles, sipping his drink “You’re adorable when you’re oblivious, yoi.”

Ace immediately throws a handful of sand in his direction, scowling. “Shut up!” His voice is a little too high-pitched to be threatening “I wasn’t—! It wasn’t on purpose!”

“Sure” Thatch grins, wiggling his eyebrows “Accidental flirting. A classic.”

Ace groans into his hands, looking very much like he wants the ground to swallow him whole. You, on the other hand, are biting back a laugh as you lean in slightly.

“Didn’t know you liked playing with my hair” you tease, just loud enough for him to hear.

His head snaps to you, wide-eyed, before he grumbles something incoherent under his breath. You’re pretty sure you catch the words never living this down.

Still, despite his embarrassment, he doesn’t move away, his warmth lingers beside you, a silent contradiction to his flustered protests.

Eustass Kid:

The atmosphere in the tavern is loud and chaotic, just the way the Kid Pirates like it. The crew is drinking, shouting, and causing their usual brand of mayhem while you sit beside Kid, with your drink. He’s in a rare good mood tonight, smirking as he argues with Killer over some pointless bet.

You’re just relaxing, letting the warmth of the room settle into your bones, when you feel it... Kid’s hand resting on your thigh.

Not just resting. His fingers drum absently against your skin, his grip solid, like it belongs there.

Your brain short-circuits for a second. He’s not the type for public affection. Hell, he barely acknowledges feelings exist, so the fact that he’s touching you like this, so casually, is… unexpected.

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

You glance down, then back up at him. He’s still engaged in his conversation with Killer, completely unaware of the way his thumb is now slowly tracing circles against your leg.

It’s fine. It’s totally fine. You can just pretend like this isn’t affecting you...

"Oi, Kid" Heat suddenly snickers from across the table, eyes gleaming with mischief "y/n is so red that it like they're about to explode. Didn’t know you were the handsy type."

Kid pauses mid-sentence "Huh?"

He follows Heat’s gaze, straight to where his hand is resting on you. His fingers twitch. You feel the exact moment his brain catches up with his body, the slow realization creeping onto his face.

The entire table is watching now, grinning like they’ve just witnessed something hilarious.

"Shit," Kid mutters, yanking his hand away like he’s been burned. His face twists into a scowl, and his cheeks—just barely—tinge red "I wasn’t—!" His voice raises, defensive. "It was just—!"

Killer snorts "Yeah, sure. Just absentmindedly groping them in the middle of a crowded tavern. Totally normal."

The crew erupts into laughter. Kid growls, kicking Heat’s chair out from under him, sending the man crashing to the floor "Shut the hell up!"

You bite your lip, fighting back a grin.

Even as he huffs and glares at his drink, grumbling about stupid bastards and their stupid comments, his knee remains firmly pressed against yours under the table.

Accidental or not, he’s not moving away.

And neither are you.

[sh4nksslvt]

CLINGY MUCH? | ONE SHOT

Shanks x GN!Reader

Zoro x GN!Reader

Mihawk x GN!Reader

a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only so expect this ff cringe and oc

tags: sfw, fluff, soft, ooc(?)

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

SHANKS

You were many things aboard the Red Force—calm, sharp-tongued, and painfully unbothered by Shanks’ endless antics.

You were also completely unaware of the fact that the most feared (and flirted-with) captain in the New World couldn’t seem to stop touching you.

Not in a creepy way. Not even in a romantic way… at least, not that you noticed.

He’d toss an arm around your shoulders like it was a habit. Rest his hand on your waist when laughing. Tug you into his side when something “dangerous” happened, like a slightly aggressive breeze or a seagull flying too low.

You just chalked it up to him being Shanks.

Until, one bright morning, the crew decided enough was enough.

It started with Benn Beckman sighing dramatically as he walked onto the deck.

“Do you two need a room or something?”

You blinked from where you stood, arms crossed. “We’re not even doing anything.”

Benn pointed. “His hand has been on your lower back for ten minutes.”

Shanks blinked down at his own hand like it betrayed him. “Huh. Didn’t even notice.”

You raised a brow. “Are you okay? Do you have tactile issues?”

Lucky Roux snorted as he passed by with a turkey leg. “Yeah, it’s called ‘falling for someone and not knowing what to do with your hands.’”

Shanks turned red. You remained… utterly unaffected.

“Touch-starved pirate disease,” Lime Juice muttered, jotting fake notes like a doctor. “Tragic. Symptoms include: prolonged physical contact, excessive grinning, and spontaneous cuddling in public.”

Hongo popped his head out of the crow’s nest. “I saw him brush your hair behind your ear during the storm last week.”

“That was because it got in their face,” Shanks defended.

You nodded. “He didn’t want me to get stabbed by my own bangs. Very heroic.”

“You’re wearing a braid,” Yasopp called from the helm.

A long pause.

“…Okay, I’m not good with excuses,” Shanks muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. His hand bumped yours in the process.

You tilted your head, eyes narrowing. “Captain.”

“Yes?”

“You’re touching me again.”

“...I genuinely didn’t notice DAHAHAHA.”

The crew erupted into laughter.

You blinked slowly and glanced down at your joined hands, then back up at him. “You’ve been holding my hand for a minute now. You good?”

“Maybe.”

You stared.

He stared.

“…You’re kinda warm,” he added, grinning.

“I’m wearing gloves.”

“Exactly. Impressive.”

You didn’t smile, but your voice was flat with dry humor. “You wanna marry me, too? Get it over with?”

Shanks choked. “Whoa—what?”

“You’re already touching me like I’m your lover. Might as well commit.”

The crew howled.

“I’m starting to like them more than you, Cap,” Benn said, lighting a cigar.

“They’ve got more bite,” Lime Juice grinned.

Lucky Roux offered you a celebratory turkey leg like a sword. “You just proposed better than he ever could.”

You calmly took it, giving a single nod. “Thanks. I accept my own proposal.”

Shanks was still frozen. “Wait, are we actually engaged now?”

You took a slow bite of the turkey leg, deadpan. “Keep touching me like that, and you’ll owe me alimony.”

ZORO

You were minding your own business—arms crossed, eyes half-lidded, back leaned slightly against the Sunny’s railing—when a familiar weight thunked into your side.

Again.

You didn’t flinch, didn’t glance, didn’t even blink. Just spoke.

“Zoro.”

“What.”

“You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what.”

“Treating me like a living chair.”

He grunted. “You’re stable. And not annoying.”

“That’s a compliment?” you asked, still deadpan.

“Take it or leave it.”

The crew had noticed. Of course they had. This was the sixth day in a row Zoro had casually latched onto you like a sleepy barnacle.

“Oi, mosshead!” Sanji snapped, appearing from the galley with smoke swirling and a righteous fury in his eyes. “Get off them, you clingy cucumber!”

Zoro cracked open an eye. “Make me.”

“Oh, I will!” Sanji stomped over dramatically. “Y/N-chwaann shouldn’t have to carry your freeloading swordsman body weight! If anyone deserves to be close to them, it’s me!”

You raised an eyebrow. “You literally tripped into my lap yesterday trying to ‘tie your shoe.’ You were barefoot.”

“It was a metaphor!” Sanji cried. “For falling head over heels!”

Zoro scoffed. “That was the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Says the mossy limpet glued to their side like a touchy fungus!”

Zoro didn’t move. “Jealousy’s not a good look, curly.”

“You—!!”

“Guys,” Nami sighed, “can’t we go one day without turning affection into a shouting match?”

Brook leaned on his cane, chuckling. “Yohohoho! Young love… or something!”

Usopp squinted. “Wait. Has Zoro always been this clingy with Y/N?”

Robin smiled mysteriously. “Since thriller bark, at least.”

Franky nodded solemnly. “Saw him fall asleep on their shoulder mid-battle once. SUPER unconscious.”

“I thought he was dead,” Chopper added, horrified. “Turns out he was just really comfy.”

Zoro’s grip on your shoulder tightened very slightly, and you finally glanced sideways at him.

“Do you know you’re this touchy?” you asked.

He looked like he wanted to evaporate into the deck. “I… just don’t mind you being close.”

You blinked slowly. “Is that samurai code for ‘I like you’?”

Sanji audibly gagged. “Oi! Don’t flirt in front of me!”

“We’re not flirting,” you said.

Zoro mumbled, “Might be.”

Sanji died inside.

“Y/N-chwann” he said gravely, dropping to one knee. “I beg of you—pick me instead! I would never lean on you like a sweaty tree log!”

Zoro growled. “Because you’d faint from being close.”

“AT LEAST I’D DIE HANDSOME!”

You looked between the two of them and sighed.

“I just want to drink my tea without being fought over,” you muttered, walking off—Zoro immediately following, like a shadow with swords.

“You’re still touching me,” you noted.

“Didn’t say I’d stop,” he replied casually.

You stopped walking, turned, and looked him square in the eye.

“You’re aware this is very couple-coded, right?”

He blinked, then grunted. “Guess we should make it official then.”

You blinked right back. “That was fast.”

“Why waste time.”

You smirked just a little. “Romantic.”

He shrugged. “You’re warm. And you don’t talk too much.”

“That’s your idea of a proposal?”

“Worked, didn’t it?”

From behind you, Sanji dramatically screamed into the ocean.

MIHAWK

Kuraigana Island was a wasteland of stone, wind, and uncomfortable silences. You didn’t mind. You were the type to thrive in eerie places — quiet, observant, and allergic to nonsense.

Which is probably why Mihawk didn’t bother with small talk.

Or... so you thought.

Lately, the world’s greatest swordsman had developed a habit of materializing wherever you were. You’d be cleaning a blade — and there he was, pouring tea. You’d sit on the crumbling stone wall for some air — and there he’d be, suddenly trimming the overgrown vines right next to you.

At first, you thought it was coincidence.

Until today.

“...You know you don’t have to sharpen every one of my knives,” you said flatly, watching him work silently at the bench beside you.

“I didn’t,” Mihawk replied, still honing the blade. “Only the dull ones.”

You blinked. “That was my butter knife.”

“Then it was very dull.”

From the far side of the ruins, Zoro grunted as he finished a set of squats. “He refilled their canteen twice this morning.”

“Once,” Mihawk corrected, still not looking up.

“Twice,” Zoro insisted. “Once after breakfast. Then again after they just looked at the sink.”

Perona floated down with a snort. “He also folded their coat. While they were still wearing it.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Wait. Is that why my sleeves were shorter for a second?”

“You had a wrinkle.”

“I always have a wrinkle.”

Mihawk looked up with that unreadable expression. “And now you don’t.”

Zoro huffed. “What even is this? He acts like a butler. But like, a scary one.”

Mihawk narrowed his eyes at him. “I’m not a butler.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Perona muttered, arms crossed. “You fixed the strap on their satchel too.”

Mihawk didn’t respond to that.

Perona raised a brow. “You gonna deny it?”

“No,” Mihawk said coolly, “because it was crooked.”

Zoro leaned against a stone pillar, towel around his neck. “He also moved your seat at the dining table.”

“That was my seat,” you said.

Mihawk finally gave you a long, side glance. “You’ve sat on the left for the past four mornings. I simply ensured it remained consistent.”

You deadpanned. “You rearranged the furniture.”

“Briefly.”

Zoro stared. “And when they tripped over that vine—”

“I cut the vine before they fell,” Mihawk snapped with a tone just shy of defensive.

“Bro. You lunged across the courtyard.”

Mihawk sipped his wine calmly. “It was in the way.”

You raised an eyebrow. “And when you pulled me by the hood into the shade the other day?”

“You were overheating.”

“I wasn’t sweating.”

“You were blinking slowly.”

You stared. “That’s just how I blink.”

There was a long pause.

Then Perona gasped. “Wait, wait — you also fixed the strap on their scabbard!”

“I adjusted it. The weight distribution was uneven.”

Zoro clapped once, grinning. “So you are clingy.”

Mihawk’s eyes narrowed, the glint in them sharp and dangerous. “I am not.”

You leaned your chin on your hand, amused. “Then what would you call this?”

He paused. “Awareness.”

Perona lost it. “You mean hyper-awareness. Of one (1) person.”

Mihawk ignored her. “It’s strategic. I simply ensure you're at your most efficient.”

“That’s not efficiency,” Zoro said, wiping his forehead. “That’s doting.”

Mihawk arched a brow. “You think a swordsman cannot be observant?”

“You folded their laundry in order of fabric weight.”

“They prefer it that way.”

You blinked. “I never said that.”

He side-eyed you, expression cool. “You didn’t need to.”

You blinked again.

Zoro grunted. “You see? He’s acting like we’re all weird for noticing.”

Perona jabbed a finger toward him. “He's totally doing the ‘if I act calm, no one will notice I'm obsessed’ thing.”

Mihawk finally gave a soft, tired sigh — the kind that said you people are exhausting.

Then, turning to you, he asked, “Would you like tea?”

“I haven’t said I was thirsty.”

He didn’t blink. “You will be.”

You stared. “Are you psychic?”

“No,” he said simply. “You’re predictable.”

You squinted. “...That sounds like flirting.”

Mihawk blinked slowly. “I don’t flirt.”

Perona groaned. “OH MY GOD—”

Mihawk stood up, cloak sweeping behind him, expression unreadable as always. He held out the canteen like he’d already won this conversation.

You took it with narrowed eyes, muttering, “Thanks... I guess.”

He nodded, calm as ever. “You’re welcome.”

Zoro crossed his arms. “Still denying it?”

Mihawk looked at all of them — then at you — and with perfect poise said,

“I’m just efficient.”

And with that, he turned and walked away.

You stared after him, took a sip from the canteen, and sighed.

“…Efficiently annoying.”

[st4rpiece]

needing space after an argument

SFW

characters: luffy, zoro, usopp, sanji x reader summary: an argument with the boys puts your relationship on hold CW: angst no comfort, breaking up (sanji), reader gets hurt, and over 600 words each

pt. 1 | pt. 2

────────────────────₊˚.༄

Monkey D. Luffy

The Sunny swayed gently on the open sea, the rhythm of the waves doing little to soothe the tension that crackled in the air. The ship’s usual harmony, filled with laughter and chatter, had been shattered by the argument unfolding on deck.

“You’re seriously impossible, Lu!” you snapped, your voice rising in frustration. Your chest heaved as you stared him down, fury blazing in your eyes.

“You keep charging into battle without thinking, and we’re always left picking up the pieces!”

Luffy stood a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest, his straw hat tilted forward. His usual grin—bright and carefree—was nowhere to be seen. Instead, his face was set in a rare, serious frown.

“So what?” he said, his tone almost dismissive. “It worked, didn’t it? We’re fine!”

“Fine?!” you repeated, incredulous, your voice rising an octave.

“Sanji’s limping, Zoro’s covered in bandages, the ship’s a mess, again, and you—” you jabbed a finger toward his chest—“you nearly got yourself killed over some stupid treasure we didn’t even need!”

Luffy threw his arms in the air, his voice growing defensive. “It was shiny! I wanted it!”

You groaned, rubbing your temples as you turned away for a moment, trying to reign in your growing frustration.

“Lu, it’s not about the treasure!” you finally yelled, spinning back toward him.

“It’s about how you never listen to anyone! One day, your recklessness is going to get someone killed!”

The deck fell silent, the rest of the crew lingering nearby, pretending not to eavesdrop as they exchanged wary glances.

Luffy’s jaw tightened at your words, his posture stiffening. His carefree demeanor, the one you had come to rely on, was replaced by something cold and uncharacteristically sharp.

“You’re the only one who seems to always have a problem with the way I do things,” he said, his voice low but cutting.

You froze, staring at him as his words began to sink in.

He took a step closer, his dark eyes burning into yours.

“If the way I run my ship bothers you so much…” He hesitated, as if daring himself to say what came next, but when he spoke again, his tone was firm, biting. “…then maybe you should leave.”

It felt like a slap across the face. The air around you stilled, and for a moment, you couldn’t even process what he had said.

“Luffy,” you said, your voice softer now, as though testing to see if you’d heard him right.

But he didn’t take it back. He just stood there, his face stony, his gaze unreadable.

The silence between you stretched, heavy and unbearable. The rest of the crew watched from their spots, wide-eyed and frozen. Even Zoro, who typically stayed out of these things, had shifted slightly, his hand resting on the hilt of his katana as though bracing for the worst.

You clenched your fists, forcing yourself to swallow past the lump rising in your throat. The sharp sting of his words echoed in your mind, cutting deeper with every passing second. When you finally spoke, your voice was low but steady, masking the turmoil inside you.

“Fine,” you said, the word dropping heavily between you.

Luffy’s eyes widened just enough to show a crack in his hardened expression, but he didn’t speak. He didn’t take it back.

Your voice quivered ever so slightly as you drew in a shaky breath, but you straightened your shoulders, determined not to let him see how deeply his words had cut. “I’ll be gone by tonight,” you said, firm and unwavering despite the ache in your chest.

His breath hitched, and for a split second, his resolve seemed to waver. “No wait—” he said, his voice breaking as he took a step forward, his hand lifting like he was reaching for you.

But you didn’t stop. You turned on your heel and strode toward the stairs, your head held high even as your vision blurred. By the time he worked up the courage to say more, you were already gone, leaving behind a silence even heavier than before.

Roronoa Zoro

The dim glow of the setting sun reflected off the water as you stood on the dock, arms crossed tightly over your chest. The once serene atmosphere was marred by the frustration bubbling inside you as you paced back and forth, stealing glances at the path Zoro should’ve come from an hour ago. The excitement you’d felt earlier now replaced with frustration and disappointment.

Finally, you heard the familiar shuffle of his footsteps, followed by his exasperated grumbling.

“Sorry I’m late,” Zoro muttered as he approached, scratching the back of his neck. His face was impassive, as if showing up an hour after your agreed time wasn’t a big deal.

You exhaled sharply, your patience already frayed. “Late? Zoro, you’re not just late—you’re ridiculously late. Again.”

“I got lost,” he said bluntly, like that was supposed to excuse everything.

“You always get lost,” you shot back, exasperated. “I’m not mad about that—I get it, directions aren’t your thing. But you didn’t think to ask someone for help this time? Or maybe even leave a little earlier?”

Zoro let out a short sigh, his arms crossing over his chest. “What do you want me to do? It’s not like I meant to get lost. I tried.”

“Then maybe next time we can just go together,” you suggested, your voice softening slightly despite your frustration. “That way, we can avoid all this and actually enjoy our dates.”

Your words were meant to be a compromise, a way to avoid another night like this, but Zoro’s face darkened at the suggestion. He scoffed, the sharp sound cutting through the cool evening air.

“Go together?” he repeated, his voice sharp. “What, you think I need you to hold my hand everywhere? I’m not a kid.”

“Zoro,” you blinked, taken aback by the sudden hostility in his tone. “That’s not what I—”

“No seriously,” he cut you off, his voice growing louder. “That need of yours to control everything—it’s annoying.”

You froze. For a moment, it felt like the world had stopped moving, his words hitting you harder than you thought possible.

“Controlling?” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper. “Annoying?”

Zoro faltered for a moment, his expression shifting as if he hadn’t meant for the word to come out. But instead of apologizing, he doubled down, his jaw tightening. “Yeah,” he muttered, though his voice had lost some of its bite.

Your lips parted as you stared at him, completely thrown. You had only wanted to help, to make things easier—for both of you. But now, he was looking at you like you were the problem.

“I… I didn’t think trying to help you was so annoying,” you said quietly, your voice trembling. “I just didn’t want us to keep missing time together because you—” You stopped yourself, shaking your head as the lump in your throat grew.“Forget it.”

“Wait,” Zoro said, stepping forward, but you instinctively took a step back.

“No, it’s fine,” you said, your voice tight as you forced a bitter smile. “If me trying to help makes me so controlling and annoying, then I won’t bother anymore.”

“Babe, that’s not—”

“Don’t,” you interrupted, your voice firmer now. “I get it, Zoro. You don’t need me, and you sure as hell don’t want my help. Message received.”

You turned away before he could say anything else, your heart twisting painfully as you walked back toward the ship.

Zoro remained motionless, his chest heavy as he watched you walk away. His hand started to lift, a silent urge to call out to you, to stop you—but it faltered, falling limply to his side. The realization settled in like a weight: in his frustration, he hadn’t just lashed out—he’d driven away the one person who always tried to understand him. And now, he could only watch as you disappeared.

God Usopp

The tension in the air was thick enough to cut through as you sat on the Sunny’s deck, fidgeting with your hands. Usopp had been distant for the past two days, barely sparing you a glance and keeping his responses short whenever you tried to talk to him. It wasn’t like him—not with you.

You stole a glance across the ship where he was working on one of his gadgets, his movements tense and hurried, the usual care he put into his work noticeably absent. You’d been patient, waiting for him to come to you, but whatever was bothering him wasn’t going away.

“Usopp,” you finally called, your voice gentle but firm as you stood and walked over to him.

He didn’t look up. “What?”

The coldness in his tone made you flinch, but you pressed on. “Can we talk? You’ve been avoiding me.”

“I’m not avoiding you,” he muttered, fiddling unnecessarily with the gadget in his hands.

“Yes, you are,” you said, standing your ground. “What’s going on? Did I do something wrong?”

At that, he froze, his fingers tightening around the tool in his hand. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said flatly, but his voice lacked conviction.

You crouched down beside him, your brows furrowed. “Then what is it? Why won’t you talk to me?”

He finally looked at you, his jaw tight and his eyes flickering with frustration. “Why’d you call Luffy?”

The question caught you off guard. “What?”

“Two days ago, when you were in trouble,” he said, his voice louder now. “You didn’t call for me. You called for Luffy.”

Realization dawned on you, but before you could respond, he continued.

“Was I just not good enough?” he asked, his tone bitter. “Did you think I couldn’t handle it? That I’d just screw it up and get hurt?”

“What? No, that’s not—”

“Don’t,” he interrupted, standing up abruptly and taking a step back. “Just don’t. I get it. I know I’m not as strong as Luffy or Zoro or Sanji. I know I’m not the first one people think of when they’re in danger. But I thought… I thought maybe you—” He stopped himself, shaking his head as he clenched his fists. “Forget it.”

You stood as well, your chest tightening at the hurt in his voice. “Baby, listen to me,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “You are strong and very capable. I called for Luffy simply because he was closer. That’s it.”

But he didn’t look at you, his eyes fixed on the deck. “It doesn’t matter,” he said quietly. “I just… I need some space, okay?”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Usopp, the one who always sought you out, who always seemed happiest when you were by his side, was asking you to leave him alone.

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the sting. “If that’s what you need,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll give you space. But I’m not giving up on this, Usopp. Or you.”

He didn’t respond, only nodding slightly before turning his back to you. You lingered for a moment, hoping he’d say something, anything, to stop you from walking away. But the silence stretched, and eventually, you had no choice but to leave him be.

As you walked away, your heart ached for him, for the insecurities he tried so hard to hide. You could only hope that when he was ready, he’d let you help him see the truth—that in your eyes, Usopp was more than enough.

Vinsmoke Sanji

The evening sun bathed the deck of the Sunny in golden light, but the sight before you felt anything but warm. Sanji stood at the railing, surrounded by a small group of women from the port town you’d just docked in, his eyes sparkling as he lavished them with compliments and dramatic promises of eternal devotion.

You stood at a distance, arms crossed over your chest, watching the scene unfold before you. It wasn’t the first time Sanji had acted like this, and you had always let it slide, convincing yourself that he would stop eventually. But now, the painful truth settled in, and it felt like a dagger twisting in your chest.

When the women finally left, giggling and waving, you stepped forward, your footsteps deliberate. “Sanji,” you said, your voice sharper than you intended.

He turned, his usual cheerful expression faltering when he saw the look on your face. “Oh, my love! Did you see those ladies? They were absolute angels—”

“Why do you keep doing this?” you interrupted, crossing your arms tighter.

“Doing what?” he asked, genuinely confused, tilting his head.

“This,” you said, gesturing toward where the women had just walked off. “Flirting with every woman who so much as glances your way.”

Sanji blinked, his confusion deepening as he processed your words.“My love, what a wrong? You never complained about this before?”

Your jaw clenched, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “That’s because I thought it would stop once we got together. I didn’t think that as your girlfriend I would still have to compete with every pretty women you see.”

His eyes widened, as if the thought had never occurred to him. “But, sweetheart, it’s not like that. You’re not competing with anyone I—”

"It is like that Sanji, and honestly, I can't keep doing this," you interrupted, your voice trembling. "It's clear we're not on the same page when it comes to what’s acceptable in a relationship."

The air between you shifted, thick with the weight of your words, each one hanging in the space between you like an unspoken truth.

Sanji’s mouth opened slightly, his brow furrowing as if he were about to protest, but no words came out. He stood there, frozen, as if the reality of the situation hadn’t fully hit him yet. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he managed to say, his voice a little rough, “Why does this feel like a breakup?”

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat threatening to choke you. Every word felt like it was trapped, lodged somewhere deep inside, fighting its way to the surface. But you couldn’t hold it back any longer. Your eyes never left Sanji’s face, watching the shock and confusion slowly morph into something you couldn’t bear to see.

“That’s because it is,” you said quietly, your voice barely audible, the weight of the words pressing down on you.

The finality of it echoed in your ears, louder than you ever expected. You wanted to say more, to explain, to somehow make him understand that this wasn’t easy for you, that it wasn’t what you wanted. But the truth was, you had already said everything you needed to. This was the point of no return.

“Wait,” he said, stepping closer, his voice desperate. “Don’t do this baby, please. I didn’t know it bothered you. If I had, I— I would’ve stopped. I’ll stop now. I swear.”

You looked away, willing yourself to stay firm despite the raw emotion in his voice. “It’s not just about stopping, Sanji. It’s about the fact that you didn’t even realize that your actions would hurt me. I can’t be with someone who doesn’t see a problem with flirting with others.”

“Please, my love,” he said, reaching for your hand, but you stepped back, shaking your head.

“I can’t, Sanji,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

Without another word, you turned and walked away, each step pulling you further from him.

Sanji stood there, his hand outstretched for a moment longer as if he could reach out and somehow make you stay. But the weight of your words hit him like a punch to the gut. He had lost you—not because he didn’t care, but because he hadn’t shown you he did in the way you needed.

──────────────���────₊˚.༄

one piece masterlist

question! how do you guys feel about a queer version of the smau’s with fem or gn reader (idrc) for nami, robin, vivi, perona, boa, and yamato?

it’s in my drafts and i’ll still post it when done just wanted to see if the gays see my vision 🤭

i have two more (one request) for angst but i'll have those up soon now that i’m free from the shackles of school.

anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed :).

not proofread and caps may look weird typed this on my phone and computer 😭

(had to re-upload this didn't realize it posted before I was done)

[dcxdpdabbles]

Dani/Ellie as a member of YJ or Teen Titans.

The team is helping the JL with an all hands on deck apocalypse on earth. They are losing badly. She looks around herself, at the destruction all around her, squares her shoulders and says 'looks like it's time for the nuclear option... DADDY!!!!'

I didn't know if you've seen the post where a scary Danny got summoned instead of Klarion and everyone (heroes and villains) was getting ready to team up because of how scared/intimidated they were. That's the Danny I'm picturing answering his daughter's call for help. Maybe with an equally scary Fright Knight sword already drawn at his back.

The team was struggling with keeping the villains at bay. This was supposed to be a coordinated attack with the Justice Leauge, moving simultaneously on the other world.

Earlier yesterday, the Light had organized for reality to split apart, forming two worlds. One contains children, and the other includes adults, causing the opposite age groups to vanish before the eyes of horrified humans.

To the adults, their kids were taken in a flash worldwide. To children, their parents went missing in the same flash. It was chaotic, and if it had not been for Captain Marvel, they would have never figured out what was happening.

Dani was a little peeved that she was on the child's side, but despite being a princess of the Infinite Realms, her body technically did not form until four years ago. For all intentions and purposes, she is sixteen. So she stayed with Young Justice, following the kid's command and feeling alive.

She may request to be placed on the Team when this is all over. She sends an energy blast towards Klarion, watching the little Lord dodge with a laugh. He sends back a wave of magic that would nearly knock her out of the air if not for her gritting her teeth and digging in her heels within her ectoplasm.

She always hated dealing with the stupid Lord of Choas. They gave her Dad nothing but trouble whenever he called a court. Everything Danny suggested was a challenge on the grounds of attempting to "control" their disorder.

Honestly, Dani preferred dealing with them than the Lord of Order. They were a bunch of self-righteous uprights who didn't care about who was hurt in the process of their justice. At least the Lord of Choas admitted they were monsters.

Oddly enough, she was grateful Klarion wasn't treating her like the princess she was. It made work so much easier when he allowed her to attack him and vice versa.

"Echo!" Robin runs towards her, waving a hand. "Maneuver seven!"

She nods, abandoning her stance to shift her flight path into a large arch. Her hands clasp into a tight cup as she speeds back up into the air. Robin doesn't miss a beat, launching himself at her just in time to press his foot on her clasp hands, using them and her upward rise to launch himself clear across the field to land a mighty kick on Teekl.

It lets out a howl that quickly gathers the attention of the angered Lord of Choas. Seeing her chance, Dani fires more energy blasts, quickly forcing the witch boy into a defensive position.

She pinned him for a few seconds while Kid Flash raced toward the marking on the ground. Dani grunts to shift the ectoplasm in the air into a long beam, firing it straight at Klarion's shield.

A few cracks are forming around the dark red dome, and she is just about to break through when Teekl comes out of nowhere. A roar is the only warning she had before the blasted cat slams into her, claws digging into Dani's side, and she can only scream as the pair fall.

"No!" Kid screams somewhere behind her, but Dani can't turn since she is holding the claws of the large cat away from her and pressing into the ground to stop it from tearing her face off with its fangs. Its sneering face looms over her, snapping at the air, while her arms tremble with the force of holding the large beast at bare.

Getting her wits about her, Dani uses a ghostly wail to get the cat off her. Teekl is flung through the ai,r landing in a heap by Klarion's side.

The witch boy gasps, "Teekl!"

Dani heaves herself to her side, legs turn, and oozes a mix of red and green blood. Teekl had managed to claw at them during the fall, which meant she couldn't stand, let alone fight, for a good while.

Panting through the pain, Dani presses her hands to leg, attempting to put pressure on it. Her vision goes in and out as white-hot fire races up her legs and body. The Team struggles with an outraged Klarion just a few feet away from her.

Dani wishes, not for the first time, that she was a perfect clone of Dani. If she was, she would have all of his powers, including super healing and duplication. Instead, she sits like a heap, an utter liability to the team, as Klarion dances circles around them.

It pains her to do it, but Dani starts to drag herself away from the battle, realizing she needs to put space between herself and the danger. If the Witch Boy or his stupid cat realizes they can use her as a hostage, Dani will never live it down.

She is just about to drag herself to the tree line when she notices Zatanna raise her hand and speak in rapid-fire magic. A nearby bush drops its illusion to show a very familiar helmet. Dani's eyes widened in alarm, and she took it into her hands and slid it right on.

"Zatanna! Wait!"" She hears herself scream, but it's too late. The girl's body has become a vessel for Nabu, the champion of the Lord of Orders. She really hates those guys.

Zatanna rises into the sky, now dressed as Dr. Fate, flickering in and out of sight as the split realities mess with Nabu's anchor.

Klarion taunts him for it, seeing this as a chance to take down the ancient Dr.Fate, but Dani has other plans. Raising her hand, with every last ounce of strength she has, Dani aims one last good ecto-beam towards the crystal in the center of the spell runes.

It shatters the crystal in a thousand pieces, sending a shock wave of magic across the field. Klarion throws a fit, like the immature brat he is, before he calls back his stupid cat, and the two vanish into a portal. If Dani was feeling better, she would have chased after him.

Captain Marvel beams back into their reality, informing them the adult magic casters were all defeated by the Justice League. Everyone breathes a sigh of relief when Dr. Fate and Zatara med the two worlds back together

Superboy rushes over and leaves Dani in his arms, mindful of her wounds. She offers him a soft thank you, which earns her a grunt in acknowledgment. Not one for words, that Conner Kent.

She thinks about the Conner Kent of another universe, this one younger and more arrogant, running around in leather jackets and piercings but a Young Justice member all the same. One day, she should introduce the two. If the fabric of realities didn't fall apart upon their meeting.

Dani is snapped out of her thoughts when the pair get close enough for her to make out what Zatara is begging the Order Champion. Her mouth falls open as Dr. Fate refuses to leave Zatanna's body.

"Kent would never allow-"

"I have sent Kent Nelson's soul to the afterlife." Dr. Fate cuts off Kid Flash with what sounds like a coldhearted taunt to Dani. The way he uses Zatanna's voice makes her skin crawl.

"Take me," Zatara offers desperation in his voice. "My body is at its peak, my magic stronger than my daughters. Use my-"

"No!" Dani shouts, flailing in Conner's arms. Her ectoplasm boils in her veins when she points an accusing finger at the flowing Dr. Fate. "Nah-uh. This is against the law, and you know that, Nabu!"

"You know not what you speak of,child-" The ass tries, but Dani won't hear any of it.

"Long-term overshadowing of any living being is against Infinite Realms law." She sneers, facial features slightly less round and more uncanny with her anger. Around her, the Team is staring wide eyes.

Oh, right, this version of the Team has never seen her proper Phantom form. They only know Echo- named after being the copy of the great hero Phantom- who looked awful like her human form, just color flipped.

Her Halfa form was much more appealing than her entire ghostly appearance.

Dr.Fate crosses their arms. "Against a mortal will. This child willingly gave her body to me in exchange for aid in combat. I broke no law."

"Oh yeah! We'll see what the King has to say about that!" She screams, and finally, Nabu seems slightly worried, but it vanishes quickly as he jolts Zatanna's chin at him. Using her friend like some sort of meat suit.

The nerve.

"The King has better things to do than heed the call of an unimportant child." Nabu hisses, and yeah, she's going to make him pay for that.

"It looks like it's time for the nuclear option, just remember Nabu, the Lord of Order's Champion, you brought this upon yourself." Reaching out with a hand shaped entirely of ectoplasm, Dani launches a blast at Nabu.

The Team screams, Kid Flash's voice rising about the others. "No! Zatanna feels ever hit you land!"

"Echo, stand down!" Batman commands, but Dani doesn't pay them any mind as her attack lands against Dr. Fate's cross shield. She smirked, willing her glowing hand to rip a piece of the shield and fling it back towards her.

Conner nearly drops her as Dani slams the pieces into her leg, allowing them to cover up Teekl's magic. Wobbling her lips and letting the water fill her eyes, Dani lets out a whine and then a scream.

"Daddy, help!"

At once, the field is overflowing with death magic. Every living being in the area- including the animals in the forest- is brought to their knees as a fear unlike anything they have ever experienced digs its way into their very souls.

Conner falls to his knees dropping Dani in the process but she doesn't mind. She is too busy enjoying the way Dr. Fate's entire body has gone rigid as one glowing green eye snaps behind him. Zatanna small figure is no bigger then the pupil of the glowing eye, her body bath in the glow of it's green light and even the moon pales in comparison to the might of it's shine.

The eye quickly gainst a smile, stretched across a row of sharp teeth, then a second eye, a nose, and slowly Danny, King of the Infinite Rleams, forms in front of everyone's eyes.

The sweet smell of terror fills the air as Dani breathes it in.

Danny stares at the overshawed girl, eyes locked on Nabu who is resting just behind the layer of her skin, and glares. "You have brought harm upon my heir."

Nabu is too terrified to move, so Dani puts on a bigger show, letting tears roll down her face as she calls up, "He stole my friend too! He overshadowed her and won't give her back!"

Danny's face clouds with rage. "You have taken my heir's love. Release her."

Woah, hey now, no need to out Dani like that. Blushing, Dani ducks her head as Nabu quickly allows Zatanna to take off the helmet. Danny's large hand reaches towards the helmet, ripping out the spirit of Nabu, who wails in horror as the King drags him towards a portal. "You shall face trial for these actions."

"No! Mercy, your majestic, it was for the purpose of order!" The ghost cries, but his pleas fall on deaf ears as skeleton ghosts burst out of the portal, dragging the kicking and screaming ghost through. The portal slams closed with a loud crack, Nabu's screams echoing across the field.

Danny turns his large head towards the cowering group of mortals before the pointy-dark features of death melt away into a warm human face. It's a whiplash of change as the air shifts to comfort and personified sunshine when the King smiles. "Dani, I just wanted to let you know how proud I am you joined a hero team. Visit home a little more often and bring your friends."

"I will, Dad. Thanks." She beams back as Danny's large finger presses into her side, and his healing magic overflows her body. He does the same to all of her teammates and Justice League co-workers.

They are too petrified to move or thank him for the healing, but neither is Phantom Mind.

Danny nods, winks, and then vanishes like he was never there. Slowly, sound returns to the world- the leaves rustle in the wind, and animals begin to chirp.

"Well," Dani starts, climbing out of Conners's arms and dusting her outfit. "Who wants victory fudge?"

She gains a lot of round-eye looks, and when no one answers, she sighs, "I guess we can do victory pizza instead. But I demand one kind of sweet, or I'm going home to my father to complain."

[spleenthecat]

"oh i love sea grunks because they both work out all of their problems together and have clear communication!" WRONG. i love sea grunks because you know that both of them are getting thrown overboard multiple times a week because stan stole fords glasses, then ford made jokes about stans fanfiction, then stan shot back about fords fanfiction, then ford stole stans glasses in retaliation. and in the process of trying to tackle ford, stan throws them both overboard and afterwards they sit on the deck facing opposite directions, pouting, while looking like sad wet cats.

then they get over it, the exact same thing happens 2 days later and the cycle repeats.

(since this post is inexplicably blowing up again i’m gonna shamelessly plug my art. please look at my art.)

[yoyomomiko]

Hi Miko, I've been reading your one piece posts and absolutely love how you write the characters! I loved your oblivious reader headcanons, but I wanted to request kind of the opposite - how would Luffy, Sanji and Zoro react to a reader that makes the first move and kisses them first? Thank you 🥰💕

pairings: monster trio x female reader

cw: not proofread, probably contains grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language!!

— (a/n): hiiii!! i'm very sorry for not posting, I've got a lot of requests and i hope I'll get to write them all ^⁠_⁠^ also, I SWEAR I don't have a favourite (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) -> m.list

— LUFFY

Luffy is so straight forward that a lot of flirting just goes right over his head. You could be batting your eyelashes, throwing hints, or playfully touching his arm, and he'd just grin at you, not having a second thought.

He's naturally touchy with his crew, so when you start getting more physically affectionate, he just kinda rolls with it. Leaning on him? He'll lean right back. Holding his hand? He'll swing it playfully.

The realization hits... Late. You make a habit of teasing him, leaning in close when you talk, poking his face when he pouts, and even calling him cute. After a lot of punches from Nami and disappointed sighs from Usopp, he tilts his head and just goes "Are you flirting with me?"

Luffy starts leaning in close, just to see if you'll back away, and he literally COPIES your every move.

"Does this make your heart race too?" In the most innocent way possible.

You think he's immune to embarrassment, until you pull a bold move and trace his jaw with your fingers. "I bet you'd taste sweet." He actually pauses, eyes wide, and a faint pink tint covering the tip of his ears.

When you finally go in for the kiss, you catch him mid laugh. His eyes widen, and probably for the first time ever, he's speechless. Luffy, the king of energy, is frozen like a statue.

His hand almost instinctively catches your waist, holding you close. You pull back, watching his expression shift from shock, to realization, to a big, goofy grin.

"Do it again!" He doesn't even hesitate before grabbing your face and closing the distance again, kissing you back. Zero hesitation.

After this, he just kisses you whenever he feels like it. Mid conversation? Smooch. Stealing food? Smooch. Looking at him funny? Smooch.

He literally tells the whole crew. No warning, no build up. Just a proud declaration while you stand there, face buried in your hands.

You belong to his crew, but now you're his in a way that makes him extra protective. He wraps his arms around you randomly, pulling you close, his stupid, big grin plastered on his face.

He starts challenging you to kiss attacks. If you surprise him, you win. If he catches you trying, he flips it on you.

Luffy doesn't get embarrassed easily, but he does get attached. Expect him to be glued to your side, smiling like you're the best treasure in the world.

There's no overthinking with Luffy, he just likes being with you, loves that your bold, and will 100% support more surprise kisses in the future.

———☆

You're sitting on the deck with Luffy, sharing a plate of snacks, when you decide you've had enough of his cluelessness. He's laughing about something, something dumb, something that shouldn't make your heart race.

So, without a second thought you lean in and close the distance, pressing a firm kiss to his lips. It's quick, but it's just enough to make Luffy's breath hitch and heartbeat increase.

Luffy blinks at you, his usual bright eyes wide in surprise. He's touching his lips like he's processing the sensation for the first time. Then, slowly, a huge grin spreads across his face.

"Whoa!" He lets out a shaky exhale, and then he grabs your hands, bouncing excitedly. "Do it again!"

"Maybe later." You laugh, shaking your head. He was getting so excited over a simple kiss, and you couldn't help but feel your heart skip a beat at the way his touch felt on your skin.

"Later?! But I wanna do it now!" He doesn't wait, just leans in and captures your lips in another quick, excited kiss. Now, you're the one blushing.

— ZORO

Flirting with Zoro is like flirting with a wall, at least at first. He doesn't react to subtle touches, teasing smirks or even playful winks. He just raises an eyebrow like, What are you doing?

"You're acting weird." You lean in, fingers trailing over his wrist as he tenses, although not pulling away. "I'm just being friendly." "That doesn't feel friendly..."

The moment he does realize you're flirting with him, he goes completely still. His grip on his swords tighten. He legit looks like he just got challenged to a duel.

"Tch, like I care." But then he starts noticing everything. The way you look at him, the way your hand when you pass him something, the way you bite your lip when you tease him.

Zoro acts all cool, but inside? His heart is beating faster, and he doesn't know why. Literally internal panic.

One day, you brush your fingers along his jaw. "I bet you'd look good, all flustered and blushing." He visibly stiffens, eyes darting away. "Shut up." Oh, so he can get flustered.

You finally go for it, grabbing his collar and closing the gap, pulling him in for a kiss. He doesn't react at first, he's too shocked to move a muscle. Then, his hands grip your waist, pulling you just a little closer.

He's not as unaffected as he pretends to be. He exhales slowly, his breathing controlled. But you can feel the slight shake in it, the way his hands tremble slightly and the way his muscles tense.

Zoro pretends it's no big deal, but later, he tilts your chin up and kisses you again. Slower, deeper, like he's trying to memorize the feeling of your lips on his.

He's not big on PDA, but his protective streak triples. Arm around your waist? Always. Pulling you close when someone stares too long? Every time.

He doesn't say sweet things, but his actions scream it.

He still gets caught off guard when you tease him. A kiss on the cheek, and his ears turn red. Whispering something flirty, and his jaw tightens.

Zoro likes a challenge, and now that he's aware of you, he starts fighting back. He corners you and smirks if you get flustered.

He will DIE before admitting how much he likes it.

———☆

Zoro is training, sweat glistening on his skin, swords balanced in a way that makes him look damn near untouchable. You've been teasing him all day, dropping little hints, getting close... But he's been brushing you off, pretending it has no effect on him. Until now.

You walk up to him casually, hiding your smug smirk, standing just close enough for him to feel your presence. "Bet I could throw you off balance."

"Tch, you wish." He fights the urge to roll his eyes, the way his words came out was almost as if he was daring you to try.

Your smirk widens as you step closer to him. Before he could react, you grip his collar, tug him down, lips colliding into each other as you press a confident kiss on his lips.

He freezes. His whole body tenses like he's been struck by lightning. When you pull away, his breath is heavier, and there's a slight pink tint decorating his cheeks.

He glares at you, the grip on his swords tightening. "That was dirty..." He mutters, still trying to calm himself down.

You tilt your head to the side, still smirking. "Did it work?" You taunt him, trying to hold back your laugh, watching his flustered expression carefully.

Zoro exhales slowly, before grabbing your wrist, yanking you back in for another kiss. His lips crashed against yours, and you could feel his smirk pressing against your mouth. This one's deeper, hungrier. When he finally pulls back, a smirk forms on his lips.

"Yeah. It worked."

— SANJI

Sanji flirts with everyone, but when you do it back? He's done for. He's absolutely weak from the start. He nearly drops his cigarette every time you touch him.

"What's wrong, sweetheart? Cat got your tongue?" And he instantly covers his mouth, trying to hide his nosebleed and the way his face turns 50 different shades of red. He short circuits instantly.

He flirts dramatically, and you flirt right back, leaning in close, tracing his jaw, calling him pet names. His whole face BURNS.

You catch him off guard with a soft touch to his cheek, and his whole face erupts in pink. "M-Mademoiselle!"

When you finally kiss him first, his soul leaves his body. His cigarette falls, his legs turn weak, and he grips onto you for dear life.

The moment your lips touch his, Sanji's entire body locks up. His heart is hammering, and his mind is screaming in ten different languages. His brain kinda goes offline for a few seconds, but he'll snap out of it eventually!!

He covers his face with both hands, trying to suppress the absolutely ridiculous grin forming. "Mon Dieu! You're too much for me..." And his legs wobble like he might pass out.

His hands remain on your waist, but he doesn't pull you in, not yet. He wants to play it cool, but his flushed face and trembling hands give it away.

For the next hour, he is completely useless in the kitchen. He keeps chopping ingredients wrong, spacing out and giggling like an absolute fool. When someone asks what's wrong, his only reply is "I've been blessed by an angel today."

After the kiss, he becomes extra aware of your presence. A simple brush of your fingers sends a shiver down his spine. If you just lean against him, he has to take deep breaths.

The next time you tease him, he gets his revenge, tilting your chin up with his fingers and giving you the slowest, most knee weakening kiss of your life. "Two can play this game, mon amour."

Before, he was a hopeless romantic. Now? He's a hopelessly attached romantic. "Oh, you like me?" You tease, and you see the way his lips curl into a smirk. "Like? Darling, I adore you."

He was already treating you like royalty, but now it's way worse. Pulling out your chair, offering you the best cuts off food, whispering sweet nothings into your ear 24/7. It's endless.

You kiss him unexpectedly? He still gets heart eyes, but now he pulls you right back for another. "Don't start something you're not ready to finish, darling."

Completely, utterly, shamelessly yours. Sanji doesn't even try to hide it, he's absolutely whipped. He lets everyone know, the whole crew has to deal with it.

———☆

Sanji is flirting with you as usual, leaning close and murmuring sweet things. "Ah, ma chérie, if you keep looking at me like that, I might fall apart."

You rolled your eyes, a mischievous smirk forming on your lips. You grabbed his tie, fingers twisting in the fabric, yanking him down with a sudden tug. He stumbled slightly, cut off guard, but there was no time to react. Your lips crashed against his, the space between you vanishing as you pressed your body flush against his, tilting your head and deepening the kiss. His breath hitched as his hands instinctively found your waist, pulling you even closer.

Your lips parted just enough to tease, to taste. Your fingers slid up from his tie to tangle in his hair, nails grazing his scalp as you pulled him in, not letting go.

You finally parted from him, just barely, lips still hovering close and over each other. He's completely frozen. Mouth slightly open, cigarette hanging dangerously close to falling, his eyes wide in surprise, face completely red.

His whole body shakes, and he nearly collapses on the floor. "I can die happy!" He shouts out dramatically, both hands pressed firmly on his chest as he struggles to breathe.

Later, when he finally recovers, he pulls you aside, trapping you against the wall, kissing you so deep it leaves you breathless.

"Not so easy when I'm the one taking control, hm, mon amour?"

★yoyomiko ★miko

[cursedcola]

Prompt: Couples will evidently begin to mimic their better half after some time. What traits do you steal from him, and vice versa? Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Characters: Everyone - because I want to and I’m amidst fleshing out all my Yuu/Character dynamics + designs Format: Headcannons. Masterlist: LinkedUP Parts: Heartslabyul | Savanaclaw | Octavinelle | Scarabia (Here) | Pomefiore | Ignihyde | Diasomnia A/N: I'm part of the 'everyone underestimates Kalim Al Asim , the layers of his character and upbringing' club. Sweet does not equal being a dum dum my dudes.

Habits You Steal:

Theatrics (Inherited): Kalim talks with more than his mouth. There's body language. Watch out when this guy gets excited because he might knock over a lamp amidst a rant. Hands are flying with each embellishment. He's pacing. Jumping. Energy is seemingly endless with this one. When Kalim laughs, he does so with his entire body without reservation. Head flying back, grin wide, shoulder shaking, etc. Not that he can't replace what gets broken but - y'know. Be careful else you might get bitch slapped on accident. Which normally wouldn't hurt too much but Kalim's decked out in gold. The last thing you want is a ring imprint on your left cheek because Kalim got too excited after a card game. On that note - someone get Jamil some aspirin because that excitement is infectious. You can be the most stone-hearted edge-lord on the face of Twisted Wonderland, but eventually his infectious sunshine attitude takes hold.

"A-Ah! It's okay! We can replace the lamp, so don't worry. Are you hurt? No, no. It's really aright. I'm fine, see? You missed me - can I see your hands for a second? OIII! Can someone please bring a med-kit! Thank you!" <- Jamil's already grabbing the broom before you can say sorry. This is the last time he lets you sit anywhere near fragile objects during a game of charades - or any game. Kalim was bad enough...but at least with him fretting over the tiny cut on your palm, Jamil could clean the mess in peace. At least until you offer to pay for the lamp. Kalim's got enough tact to lie about the price, and everyone's thankful. No one wants to see the Ramshackle Prefect have a heart attack for shattering a real crystal lamp. 'cause then Kalim will cry too and it'll just be dominos from there.

Personal Space (Inherited): Kalim tears away any sense of dignity, self-preservation, and privacy that might exist. In a good way, of course. It's not that Kalim is an open person. Quite the contrary. He needs to keep a calculated distance between himself and others due to his position as an Asim. Regardless of his happy exterior, never forget that Kalim is far from an airhead. Kindness doesn't equate connection - as much as Kalim would love for everyone to be his friend. Yet for those who are in that trusted circle? He treats them like an extension of the self. His lack of shame bleeds into your own perception.

Training and Resistance (Inherited and Developed): Kalim hates that you need to do this. He rarely 'hates' anything, but he despises that you need to worry about being poisoned. What’s worse is that you refuse to have a tester, or a guard, or anything of the sort. It all started with discussing the future with Jamil, who logically brought up the complications that come with Kalim taking a partner. You couldn’t be shadowed, were in a difficult position with the headmaster, and it would only become difficult once the duo moves back to the scalding sands. Even more once you join them (as NRC is merely teaming with prideful youths, while the Scalding Sands is a free for all).

Point summary? You need to build resistance to drugs and learn what to do in a hostage situation. The former is handled by Professor Crewel, and the process was explained in excruciating detail. Jamil, who’s undergone training, was unphased but Kalim desperately wanted you to back out. Yet it would mean needing a guard - which would be hard to arrange - and so…yeah. Many weekends in the nurse’s office. You also have to complete the hostage drills all Asims and their spouses are put through. How to escape bondage, how to last an interrogation, how to navigate without magic (which you could, duh, so basically without a map when stranded), negotiate, etc.

"Are you absolutely certain that this is what you want to do? I can still hire a body guard - there are many options available back home! You can spend our next vacation at the main villa and meet with them. We can - oh. y-you're sure?... alright. If this is what you want then I'll be there through every step. Just remember to ask if you need anything. I'll come running, no matter what."

Charisma (Inherited): Everyone underestimates just how dangerous Kalim is. Seriously. Nothing is more risky in a school like Night Raven College than dropping your guard. It can cost you your life - or at the very least leave you indebted to someone you do not want having dirt over your head (*cough*ACertianCephalopod*cough*)The gossip grapevine is a menace. Everyone has their pride. Everyone has their secrets. Everyone holds each other at arm’s length, even if you’re cordial or friendly. Everyone except Kalim, who has this innate ability to pry the most dirty secrets out of you simply through his nonchalant attitude. Nothing drops another’s guard quicker than a sense of security and superiority. People often mistake his genuine heart for nativity. They fail to recognize that it’s a choice, and deep down he is aware that the Al Asim name places him high above the people he sees as friends.

"Hm? Isn't that the alchemic lab on potionomics meant for second years? You're so smart! I didn't get to do that lab until just a few months ago! - it's not yours? Then why are you working on it?" <- game. set. match. You think he doesn't know what your handwriting looks like? He saw you lingering outside Crewel's classroom earlier and wanted to know why. Saw an opening. Took it. Is happy you’re helping out one of your other friends, but just had to make sure no one was bullying you into doing their work.

Since he truly believes that despite this gap, friendships can transcend - his ability to get information is uncanny. A power he can wield intentionally if need be, in getting you to name drop any person or problem posed. It’s a great quality to have! This way he can help and support you :) Why is this an inherited trait, you might be asking? Because as the next head of Al Asim, Kalim’s been studying how to do business since he was young. He’s going to teach you. Pray tell what is born once the Ramshackle Beast Tamer learns the ways of Scarabia’s master of charisma and resident sunshine child?…Night Raven’s downfall. Power couple. Dead serious right now.

Jewelry (Developed): Worth your weight in gold takes a new meaning. This isn’t in reference to being spoiled, mind you. This is about status and the meaning behind the jewels Kalim is imparting. The cultural significance. Considering that you’re not from twisted wonderland, you technically are a blank slate to all countries. Who better to learn from than someone who’s spent his childhood studying to become an expert in international trade? Kalim has enough tact to bite his tongue about the deep meaning behind the gifts. You may not understand just yet, but his excitement can’t be contained. Each bangle and piece from the family treasury has a small story. While he has no problem using his wealth to help people who need it, there’s a joy that comes from decorating his treasure’ in treasure. Y’know?

"Do you like it? This necklace was my mother's at our age. My father gifted it to her during a business trip to the Queendom of Roses. Ah - you can have it! Really! She has many others, and when I told her about you this was what she chose to have sent over. It's already yours! You can wear it to the next banquet, please?" <- Being the next head of House Asim, Kalim can't be with just anyone. Yet he seemed so happy in his letters, and Jamil vouched on your behalf - so this is your time to shine. Also, sending the necklace back would be like slighting his family's good will. You quite literally need to accept it.

Music (Inherited): Can you play an instrument? Sing? It starts out as wanting to be near him more - so you join the pop music club. Kalim, Cater, and Lilia are very convincing. So they push you to pick up something. Anything. It doesn't matter what, so long as you have fun with them. Even in the earliest stages where the notes come grated and your friends (Grim) make fun - Kalim is supportive without fault. His encouragement leads to proficiency and an appreciation for music. He'd love if you sing with him. Even if it's just a lullaby - no, especially so.

Habits He Steals:

Naming inanimate objects (Inherited): Your effort at making Kalim more money-conscious. The decite of sentimental attachment, if you will. It’s honestly a risky move to make considering the sheer amount of things that he owns, so naming everything is off the table. Yet it’s the silly things. Like seeing a face in the paintwork on one of his tapestries, and then deciding to dub it Artie. Oh no, Kalim we don’t need to get new artwork for the bathroom! What about Artie? It’s already pretty enough so lets just leave him there. No - no, that ring’s super pretty but the matching set from our anniversary is enough. We wouldn’t want Garnet and Pearl to think we were replacing them, right?

"I think Vinnie would work best on display, don't you? Purple and yellow are sure to catch people's attention from far away! Or maybe should we hang up Paolo? There are so many tapestries in Scarabia’s vault, I feel guilty only putting one up on display at our festival stall. Do you think they’d let us hang more?”<- It works. Kalim defiantly thinks twice. He's a bit like a kid refusing to give up their action figures after watching Toy Story, ya feel me?

Cooking (Inherited): Kalim is learning how to cook for himself as one step to being more self-sufficient. He only eats food that Jamil prepares, but with Viper’s seal of approval you’ve earned a pass. Essentially anything you both make with pre-approved ingredients is fair game. You pick a recipe every week, give Jamil the grocery list, and he makes sure to have the stuff in the dorm. Jamil is only okay with this so long as you supervise. Teaching Kalim is on your shoulders - and in all honesty? It’s an amazing bonding experience. Jamil can rest easy for a few hours and Kalim isn’t being thrown straight into the deep end. Obviously it’s only a small reprieve, and temporary since back at the Scalding Sands there are regulations in place. Kalim loves wearing matching aprons, humming little tunes while reading recipe books, watching cooking videos, learning about all the nutritional benefits in food, and really gets an appreciation after seeing how much work goes into his favorite dishes. There’s also that spark of joy when you sit down to eat, and it’s somehow one-hundred times better than eating with his family back home. Not that Kailm doesn’t love his siblings, but family really takes a new meaning when you see it coming together right before your eyes.

"Mph th-ish is sho gud! - how do you like it? Should we invite our friends to try some? It tastes almost like Jamil's! I bet if we keep at it, then we can cook up a banquet all on our own. That'll surely put everyone in a good mood!"

Skinship (Developed): Kalim is the type to initiate touch. Not receive it. If you look at his interactions with the others, he’s always the one throwing himself at them or being a vibrant glow-stick. Very few people give that back - and in truth? Like, honest to Seven truth? Kalim’s got no problem with it. Many people have bad intentions. Not everyone wants to be his friend, and that’s fine. They come to him looking to get in his good graces. It’s unnecessary…he’ll happily help without them twisting his feelings. All they need to do is ask. Do you know how easy it is for someone to prick him with a drugged needle? He’s not comfortable with physical contact that he does not initiate, unless it’s from someone he trusts. Like Jamil, Silver, Cater, his siblings, etc. Even they have a limit (which he’s confident will never be crossed, since again, Kalim is almost always the initiator). This list is subject to change…what, you think a family of 30+ kids can exist without animosity? He dreads the day he has to think of one of his little siblings becoming untrustworthy.

Anyways. Trust is a choice for Kalim. His happiness and extroverted optimism is all a choice. Sometimes on an unconscious level (*cough* his awareness of the divide between himself and Jamil, yet pushing the knowledge down until it inevitably hurt them both *cough*). So imagine reaching the point where he trusts you. It could be something small, like the first time you hug him from behind or lace your fingers together. Intimate. Not like Cater’s half sling over the shoulder, not like his little siblings hanging on his legs, or Jamil pushing him ahead while they walk. When he’s not initiating, and Kalim might hesitate for a moment. Hard to picture, I know, but by letting it be he’s choosing to trust you wholeheartedly. All in the span of like 5 seconds, and he might not even realize it until later on. Those of us who shine the brightest, usually have walls that are hard to see. Just some food for thought.

"Really? Really, really?? Really, really really??? Really - Ah! Sorry, I just can't believe it! There's so much I still don't know about them...but they're paying attention to me, huh? That's it! I need to work harder to be a worthy boyfriend! Starting right now, I'll become a better man!" <- Kalim. Sweetie. No. You're already the brightest boy. Your dormmates only brought the prefect's changes up to make you happy! I mean - mission successful? The goal was to motivate him and they technically succeeded. Just not for studying. He's 100% fired up with enough energy to run laps around the dorm now. He doesn't know what to do first, should he get Cater to help make you a playlist? Or have some flowers sent over? Would you prefer red roses or a mix of violets with chrysanthemums. Wait. Grim's 'technically' a cat, right? He should make sure not to send anything harmful to kitties. Maybe some tuna for him with chocolates for you? But this gift should be something you can keep. Ohhhh he is vibrating from excitement. He needs to show how much he loves you. Your attention and care truly means the world to him.

Habits You Steal:

Bug Spray (Developed): Jamil can and will throw you under the bus when faced with insects. Big hit to his pride, not his best moments, but he is NOT dealing with the absolute infestation at Ramshackle. You are spraying that place with heavy duty RAID if you want him over longer than ten seconds. If he so much as catches a GLIMPSE of a roach - nah. Just nah. He will shove that dustpan in your hands and send you to war. Don’t call him until it’s dead, the carcass has been disposed of, and you’ve wiped down. Grim’s a cat. Teach his ass to hunt. He needs to pay rent. You think he’s letting the flame-ball follow to the Scalding Sands after NRC? Jamil wants him on hinting duty for scarabs or else it’s time to prep hobo box.

“Burn it….Did you not hear me? I said. Burn. It. Better yet? Burn this whole damn building!” <-First night he decides to let Kalim handle Scarabia and humor you with a sleepover - and a giant spider decided to invade the shower. We’re talking big spider, maybe pregnant. Please keep in mind that during the VDC prep, Vil had Ramshackle deep cleaned. So the worst Jamil saw was a few ants. Now, the science club does meet in the Ramshackle garden often since you’ve cleaned it up, and Trey may grow plants that make the place insect central. Jamil was unaware of this. The gut wrenching scream that echoed through every room in the house. You’d think one of the ghosts pulled a cruel prank - but no. You didn’t even get a moment to investigate. The bathroom door flew open, Jamil running out still wet and drenching his pajamas. The death glare and spew of curses was the most genuine you’d ever seen him. Well, it could have been appreciated if not directed at you. Fix it or he will never set foot in this place ever again.

Spice Tolerance (Inherited): Not much to say here. He likes his food spicy. Sure, Jamil isn’t great with his words so his main love-language is bringing over tubbaware filled with food, and he does cater to your preferences more often than not. Except you undoubtedly will be eating what himself and Kalim eat most days. Which is packed with flavor. Grim isn’t complaining, food’s food. You? It’s funny to take a chomp out of ghost pepper like it’s a roma tomato, only for Ace to try and then start wheezing. Work them tastebuds, ya scrawny magic man. Heh.

"Can't handle the heat? Curry's a versatile dish. I could make something mild next time...you still want it? Why? Just because it's my favorite, doesn't mean you have to like it. Still not going to give it back? Alright. Lets see you clean that plate then." <- Flattered that you want to experience his favorite foods prepared to his tastes. For the record - Jamil likes it spicy spicy. Hotter than fiery vindaloo. Its an acquired taste and he really can alter the recipe if its too much. Won't unless you ask, because it's funny and oddly romantic seeing you sweat just trying to make him happy (Will hit the breaks in if you are getting sick from it. Does not play around).

Braids (Inherited): Paired with Jamil’s developed trait. Braids or hair beads - take your pick. Maybe both? Or a headscarf. His little sister - Najima, do you remember her? She’s the first Viper you get to spend time with during a trip to the Scalding Sands and gifts you either some hair beads or a headscarf as her unspoken blessing. Nothing fancy, and Jamil forced the coin in her hand for it, but she did take you through the markets while he was busy tending to other needs. It’s honestly really sweet, and Jamil will braid the beads or scarf in one of your side pieces of hair every morning (or wrap the scarf around your head. Not fancy like Kalim’s but still a knot he ‘insists’ will look better if he does it since you’re inexperienced. He could teach you. He won’t.)

Silence (Inherited): Shit just does not phase you anymore. Ever heard of the inability to keep calm until there's someone more panicked nearby? Jamil embodies this, being surrounded by emotive people all the time, and his perpetual state of indifference physically does not allow you to feel unsettled. If Jamil isn't bothered, then neither are you. It's that simple. Resting bitch face is contagious. Jamil's ability to handle Kalim comes in handy for raising Grim. You can now ignore his baby face and daily begging for premium tuna. Little kitty needs to expand his arsenal of tricks, because your will is stone.

"Bad day? Grab a cup. The dorm's usually quiet for the next hour. I'll be there in a moment." <- Queen never cry. If anything actually does phase either one of you, it normally ends the same way. Plopped on the floor of his bedroom, sipping hot tea and staring at the wall in comfortable silence while stewing in mutual suffering. Eventually you give him one of those starry sky projectors, and y'all ill stare at that instead. If it's a problem that has a tangible solution then it gets solved. Easy. This is for the 'yeah, life sucks' moments where all you can do is let it be before getting back up again. At least you have each other.

Habits He Steals:

Braids (Developed): Jamil can easily do his own hair. A flick of the wrist and it magically braids itself. Ebony locks carry memories of pain, growth - and change. Small change. Yet change nonetheless, which seemed impossible years ago. There’s something very intimate that comes with fixing another person’s hair. You’re not proficient enough to handle his cornrows (or are you? To his standard? As fast as magic?) but Jamil’s fine with changing his hair style to a simple triple braid, or a braid-band using the framing pieces that can crown around his head. So long as you do it for him every morning.

Fix-It-Felix (Developed): You know that one type of dad? The one who visits your home and looks for imperfections. He comes over, puts fresh produce in the fridge, mends the nail holes in the wall and fixes that one loose board on the steps that you made a habit to avoid. Barely says two words during his visit but seemingly solves half the problems you were procrastinating? This is Jamil. 100% Jamil when he comes to Ramshackle. He needs to make himself useful. And to scold someone. Grim more often than not, but you’re not safe. He really goes ‘bitch you live like this?’ at least once a week. Then proceeds to take preventative measures like a textbook tsundere.

“I put tangerines in the fridge since winter is coming. You need to be getting enough vitamin c and - where’s Grim? Don’t let him eat them all and make sure he knows not to light the fireplace tonight. There’s some cleaner on the bricks that needs to sit for a few hours…you know what? I’ll go with you to get him. Grab your heavy coat, it looks ready to rain.”

Dancing (Developed): Jamil participates in solo-dance during his downtime. It’s not like he had a partner to do duos with. Jamil also was not interesting in cozying up to a stranger just to learn a dance he would rarely have a moment to indulge in. Kalim’s the one who mentioned this in passing to you. His intentions were pure, of course. Just as they always are. He signed you both up for a ballroom dance class as a present for officially becoming a couple! Jamil finally had a partner and time to try, so why wait?! The vice in question wanted to deny since (1) who has time for that, (2) it was off campus, would take three hours out of every weekend for a month and (3) The chance of embarrassing himself was higher than he would like. Yet Kalim is smarter than most think, and purposefully handed the gift to you. Not Jamil. Along with the excited embellishment that Jamil could now do this ‘long desired’ class that really wasn’t high on his radar.

"If it makes you happy...then I don't mind. Just try to avoid stepping on my toes. Otherwise I'll demand compensation. What do I want? Wouldn't you like to know, prefect." <- Five seconds in and he yields. You weren't going to let him out of it - no matter what excuse Jamil came up with. He'll put up with it and get back at Kalim later. The chance to spend time with you for that long is rare, and Jamil isn't the type to squander opportunities. No matter his personal feelings on the 'gift' in question.

Except Jamil finds the entire experience pleasant and hates that it’s all thanks to Kalim. Dancing with you is entirely different than dancing alone. It’s clumsy, new, and honestly tiring since he needs to lead. Especially in anything fast pace like a quickstep or to swing. It’s also three hours out of the week that Jamil isn’t maintaining his composure. Just you, him, and the instructor since Kalim splurged on private lessons. It’s liberating and Jamil wants to keep with it far beyond after the class ends. Even if it’s just slow-dancing in the common room to one of those vintage records stowed at Ramshackle. Seven, let him have this.

‘We’ instead of ‘Me’ (Inherited AND Developed): Automatically assumes that any invites are for you too. Jamil is used to thinking this way. Except the ‘we’ applied to Kalim, with Jamil as a plus one. Jamil did not want to be part of that ‘we’. Hence why he would only refer to Kalim when laying plans out. ‘Kalim has dance lessons at six, then dinner at seven, then study until 10 and then bed. Tomorrow, Kalim’s going to a banquet head by the treasure’s family and then returning to campus.’ The unspoken truth being that Jamil’s schedule matched. He followed, but was never on board with being Kalim’s ‘we’. He has always been a ‘me’ and made an active effort to preserve all his ‘me’ moments. For someone so self-aware…Jamil isn’t sure when he began to view you as his ‘we’. Only that when you auto-included him in everything…it was less strenuous than with Kalim. Far less. Easy to adapt. In the past, Jamil believed a partnership to be another chain. Perhaps being a ‘we’ was never supposed to hurt.

“Thanks for the invitation, but we’re staying in tonight…. No, not Kalim. The Prefect. What? I’m not speaking for them. If my word’s not good enough, just go ask the prefect yourself.” <- Other people might look at him and think he’s treating you like Kalim. Oh, how wrong they are.

Texting (Inherited): Jamil’s not used to someone keeping tabs on him. You’re going to see him within the hour, why does he need to call before going to wake up Kalim? Why do you need a text that he’s back in his dorm before you’re able to sleep? Why do you show up in Scarabia at one in the morning, throwing rocks at his window, if he forgets? (Jamil never forgets. He just had to reign in some rowdy first years and couldn’t catch a break. It was on his mind. Really.) It’s not the worst demand. A five minute call while he’s prepping breakfast and a few messages to know he’s going to rest are a small price to pay. Turns out a little rundown of his day before bed makes sleeping a ‘little’ bit easier. Huh.

“I don’t see it.” <- A lie spoken with the most monotone tone possible. Jamil rolls his eyes over the rim of his mug, taking a sip before turning the page in his book. Najima scoffs before returning to her magazine. She can say he’s softened up all she wants. He won’t admit to it. Doesn’t mean she’s wrong in the slightest. Jamil’s well aware that hopes and wants denied to him from birth have begun to stir within him. No matter how small the changes may be, Jamil isn’t foolish enough to give those emotions his attention. Not if he wants to keep them. Good things always escape his grasp…his wounds are too fresh to get comfortable just yet.

[jedi-starbird]

Alpha-17 and Obi-Wan being friends (derogatory) on 17's part and friends (threatening) on Obi-Wan's part is such an underrated dynamic

They could be so funny and terrifying, like Obi-Wan went through a soul shredding experience with Alpha-17 as his only company. They're friends because what else are you gonna be after you witness each other at absolute rock bottom from torture.

It's like 'dog put in cage of cheetah who's threatening to go crazy', except the dog is a grizzly bear and also threatening to go crazy.

Emotional support trooper except the trooper in question has never done any sort of supporting in his life and is actively an emotional distress trooper to a great number of the CC batch.

I want them texting everyday, I want Obi-Wan mailing handmade BFF bracelets to Alpha and Alpha sending pics back of him flipping off the camera but still wearing them, I want Alpha using Obi-Wan to keep track of and occasionally terrorize his cadets, I want 17 ending problems in the GAR (like Krell) before they begin because Obi-Wan has him shipped out on a personal transport at the first opportunity, decked out with slug-throwers Obi-Wan got him for his decant-day.

Natborn officers think this is all just an odd indulgence of General Kenobi, the Vode, however, correctly identify it as a goddamn threat and their danger assessment of Obi-Wan ticks up significantly.

When Alpha arrives on Kamino, Shaak Ti presses a shiny new comm into his hand. It has the Jedi Order symbol painted onto it alongside a smiley face sticker, and it pings immediately with a new message: Hello! I hope you're settling in well!

Alpha stares at the message, stares at the singular contact named 'OWK' and then stares Shaak Ti in the eye as he pitches the comm straight into the ocean. Shaak Ti's serene smile only grows larger as she calmly reaches into her robes and pulls out an identical comm, only this one has a frowny face sticker, and presses it into his hand. It lights up: I'm afraid we've bonded, Alpha :). Alpha shuts it off and pockets it with resignation.

Cody arrives on Alpha-17's personal recommendation.

A-17: He's the most difficult little bastard I have. You're perfect for each other. OWK: Thank you, he's very handsome :3 A-17: No. Stop.

The first thing he asks once he gets comfortable is who his general is texting so much that has him swinging his legs and twirling his hair. Cody assumes it's Anakin, given they seem joint at the hip anyway, but little does he know Obi-Wan's ability to consistently have the Weirdest Relationships Ever.

"Oh, it's Alpha-17, I understand you're familiar with each other?" Hmm. OK. Cody.exe is experiencing a processing error, please hold. He exits the room instead of answering. The next day he peeks over the General's shoulder when he's texting and sees walls of rambling messages from Obi-Wan. Alpha-17 replies every hour with a single text: Lose this number. Obi-Wan giggles. "He's so funny." he says.

When Obi-Wan meets the rest of the CC batch, Cody makes sure to stand perfectly angled so that he can record the reactions when his general cuts off their introductions with "Oh, no need, Alpha-17's told me all about you." It's always immediate FEAR.JPG followed by a slow spiral of What The Fuck.

What do you mean by that General. What does that mean Cody. What do you mean they text. No. Cody. What the fuck is happening, Cody. Alpha-17 doesn't have friends he has enemies and enemies he tolerates enough not to shoot on sight.

OWK: Wolffe reached for his vambrace? when I mentioned you A-17: That's where he keeps his spare knife. OWK: Hm that does explain the way he eyed me up, ambitious. A-17: Clearly not enough, he should have followed through. I taught them better.

[magnagaruzenmon]

Inbetween

Just a short little something after seeing these sexy pics

You were just putting the final card into your new Vanguard deck when your phone buzzed. A photo from Jiheon popped up — a blurry selfie of her sprawled on the couch, blanket tangled around her legs, hair in a loose bun. She looked pouty and bored. Underneath, a message:

“Come over. I’m lonely.”

You rolled your eyes, but already your keys were in your hand.

The drive to Jiheon’s place felt familiar — the kind of route your car could take blindfolded. You thought about how long you’d known her. Since your last year of college, and her second. You’d met by accident — you were sliding out of a seat in a lecture hall when she turned to you and said, “Why are you in this class? Isn’t this like, Intro 101?”

You’d raised an eyebrow and explained that her “intro” class was actually a right after for your higher-level course the course she just sat through. She blinked, then grinned.

“Oh. Okay, Mr. Smartypants.”

She’d called you that ever since.

From that moment on, she was a constant in your life. Bright-eyed, sarcastic, fiercely loyal. You’d seen her through all kinds of chaos — tear-stained breakups, half-baked get-rich schemes, failed job interviews and small personal triumphs that felt like gold medals. No matter what, Jiheon carried it all with a crooked smile and a razor-edged wit that never dulled.

You pulled into her complex and headed up without knocking. The apartment was quiet — suspiciously quiet. No Hayoung. No Nagyung. Not even Jiwon’s voice echoing off the kitchen walls. Just Jiheon.

You found her in the bathroom, sitting on the counter in a hoodie three sizes too big, idly brushing her hair. She looked up and beamed when she saw you.

“Ah! You came!”

You frowned at her, genuinely confused by her excitement.

“Yeah… you’re my friend? Why are you acting surprised?”

She gave you a look and tossed the brush down.

“Don’t get smart with me. You’ve been MIA. Work, your move — I haven’t seen you in, like, forever.”

You leaned against the doorframe with a sigh.

“That was two weeks ago. And all of last week you were busy with what’s-his-name. How’s that going, by the way?”

Jiheon’s expression faltered. She looked away for a second before muttering,

“I visited him at work. He was sleeping with his boss.”

The bathroom went quiet, save for the sound of the brush clattering on the counter. You winced.

“Damn. Well, fuck him. Honestly, he was forgettable anyway.”

She laughed, but it was small and tired.

“Thanks, Smartypants.”

You smile and say, “Anytime.”

The two of you sit in the quiet hum of her apartment, the kind of silence only close friends can share without it feeling awkward. Jiheon leans her head against your shoulder, absently pulling the sleeves of her hoodie over her hands as the TV flickers in front of you, muted.

Her presence is warm, familiar. You’d sat like this a hundred times before — post-breakup, post-party, post-bad-days — but something in the air felt different now. Maybe it was the way her hair smelled faintly like vanilla shampoo, or how her fingers brushed against yours without pulling away.

A minute passes. Maybe two. You shift your weight, then stand up.

“Let’s go on a date.”

She blinks, turning toward you from where she’s curled up on the couch.

“Huh?”

The word drops out of her like a reflex — confused, caught off guard. Her brows knit, her lips part just slightly.

You look down at her, hands in your pockets, speaking more from instinct than plan.

“I dunno. It just seemed like a good idea.”

You watch as she processes. Her eyes search your face for a punchline, but find none. She sits up straighter now, not alarmed, but suddenly very alert — like she’s trying to make sense of a new rule in a game she thought she’d already mastered.

“You mean like—” she gestures vaguely between you, “—us? A real date?”

You nod once, not backing away from her gaze.

“Yeah. You and me. Dinner. A movie. We can even pretend we don’t already know each other’s favorite orders and the name of your fourth grade math teacher.”

She lets out a soft laugh at that, eyes wide but not retreating. There’s a long beat, and then she says, quieter now:

“Why now?”

You consider it for a moment. The easy answer would be “why not?” But you owe her honesty.

“Because… when you said you were lonely, I realized I’ve been lonely too. But not in the way I thought. I missed you. Not just the hanging out, or the games, or the texts. I missed us. And maybe we’ve been pretending for a while now that there’s nothing more here… but I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

She swallows, her mouth parting again like she wants to say something, but can’t quite find the words yet.

You smile gently and add, “We can keep sitting here like always. We can forget I said anything. But if there’s even a small part of you that wants to see where this could go… come with me.”

The pause that follows isn’t filled with tension — it’s filled with a quiet possibility, like the moment before the first card is played in a match that means something.

Then, finally, Jiheon stands too. Slowly. Thoughtfully.

“Okay,” she says.

“But you’re paying.”

You grin. “Obviously.”

She rolls her eyes, but her smile betrays her.

You don’t even make it ten minutes down the road before things start to go wrong.

First, the restaurant you chose — a cute little ramen place she once mentioned in passing — turns out to be closed for renovations. Jiheon gives you a pitying look as you stare at the locked door like it might open if you believe hard enough.

“Strong start,” she deadpans.

“Bold of you to assume I don’t plan my failures ahead of time,” you reply.

Plan B? Tacos. But the GPS reroutes you three times, and Jiheon is clearly trying not to comment on how you nearly drive into a bike lane twice. By the time you find parking, it starts raining.

She looks at the sky, then at you.

“I knew I should’ve brought a jacket. This is how I die, isn’t it?”

“If I knew you were this dramatic I never would’ve asked you out.”

“You’ve known me for years. You absolutely knew I was this dramatic.”

The two of you make it into the taqueria drenched and laughing, clothes sticking awkwardly. Inside, you find one table left — directly under an air conditioner blasting arctic wind. Jiheon’s teeth chatter as she unwraps her taco.

“Romantic,” she says. “Free hypothermia with every meal.”

You raise your cup of horchata in mock-toast.

“To suffering.”

Despite it all — or maybe because of it all — the night starts to feel fun. Familiar. Real.

You fall into your usual rhythm: teasing, inside jokes, shared memories. She laughs until she nearly spits out her drink when you remind her of that time she tried to dye your hair “silver fox” and turned it lavender instead.

“You looked like a K-pop idol who got kicked out of the group for tax evasion.”

“You said I looked distinguished.”

“I lied. I was trying to protect your dignity.”

After dinner, the movie theater you’d picked is sold out, and the only other one nearby is showing the worst-looking romcom imaginable — Jiheon raises an eyebrow at you and says,

“You sure you’re not trying to make me break up with you mid-date?”

But you buy the tickets anyway, and to your shared horror… the movie ends up being hilariously awful. By the halfway point, Jiheon’s whisper-commentary is making you wheeze with laughter.

“Why is this man allergic to shirts? Is that a plot point?”

“I think it’s his trauma. Or maybe his fashion choices are the trauma.”

“God, they’re about to kiss again. You owe me popcorn refills.”

You both stumble out of the theater an hour later, wheezing and half-crying with laughter. You can’t remember the last time you had this much fun.

Back in the car, parked outside her apartment, there’s a quiet lull as the engine ticks softly. Jiheon looks at you. Not with her usual smirk or a sarcastic quip — but something softer, unreadable at first.

“That was terrible,” she says finally.

You grin. “Completely cursed.”

“And I still had the best night I’ve had in months.”

Your grin fades into something gentler.

“Yeah. Me too.”

She doesn’t look away, doesn’t laugh it off this time. Instead, she leans in — just slightly. Testing. Inviting.

“So… second date?”

“God, yes.”

She smiles, and this time it isn’t crooked or teasing — it’s full.

And then, finally, she kisses you.

Disaster or not, this is the best date either of you have ever had.

You smile as she breaks the kiss, her breath still brushing against your skin. She looks at you for a moment longer than necessary, eyes lingering like she’s memorizing your face. Then, almost shyly, she murmurs,

“Wanna come inside?”

You follow her in.

The apartment is dimly lit, warm and familiar. Her jacket lands in a heap on the couch, and she kicks off her sneakers with the casual chaos of someone who lives alone and likes it that way.

You glance around, noticing something’s off.

“Where’s the gang?” you ask, referring to her usual group of friends — loud, opinionated, always draped across her furniture like they pay rent.

Jiheon shrugs, already halfway through rummaging for snacks in the kitchen.

“I think they mentioned something about a carnival and the night market downtown.”

You blink.

“That sounds like fun. Why didn’t you go?”

She bounces slightly on her heels as she emerges from the kitchen, chips in hand, a little sheepish.

“Um… I don’t know. It felt weird? Like, everyone was hyped about it and I just… kept thinking about how cool it’d be to hang out with you, tbh.”

You give her a look — the kind that says “you are so bad at hiding how sincere you are.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

She grins unabashed.

“And I was right! We had a fantastic night.” Her voice is high with excitement, like she’s still riding the buzz of the evening.

You smile, softer this time.

“So… what now?”

Jiheon looks at you with a mischievous glint, hopping backwards toward the couch.

“I sit on your lap and play Overwatch, obviously.”

You snort.

“Okay, that’s a weirdly specific fantasy.”

She winks.

“Give me Eighteen minutes. Timer starts now.”

You assume she’s joking.

But sure enough, seventeen minutes and some change later, you’re seated on her couch, a controller in one hand, the other arm awkwardly draped as Jiheon settles herself squarely in your lap — headset on, fully immersed in a competitive match. She leans back slightly, totally at ease, like this is the most normal thing in the world.

It should be weird. It should be.

But it’s… weirdly comfortable.

The warm weight of her. The sound of her muttering callouts under her breath. The flicker of game colors dancing across her walls. The hum of the console. The faint scent of her shampoo.

Somewhere between her shouting “PUSH POINT, YOU COWARDS” and your third yawn, your eyelids start to droop. You barely notice it. Your body relaxes under hers, lulled by her voice and the gentle rhythm of explosions and victory music.

Jiheon glances down once, mid-match, and smiles when she realizes you’ve dozed off — one hand still loosely around her waist. She doesn’t say anything. Just shifts slightly to let you breathe easier, and keeps playing.

You wake up two hours later on the same couch but Jiheon is gone. You look around for her until you hear moaning from her bathroom. At first you ignore it until she says your name. You rush to her to find her playing with herself. At first your speechless until she says

“Since you’re here, fuck me!”

You barely have time to think before you undo your pants and your stroking your cock for her. Her look is so intense and inviting you just can’t help it. You don’t even think about getting a rubber or doing anything like that.

You slide inside with mind numbing ease as she takes all of you. You groan

“Fuck Heoni you feel so good,” Jiheon turns her face to yours and says,

“You’re so big inside me,” as she backs her ass up into you. You groan as she convulses around your cock.

“Shit Jiheon,” you say as you start thrusting inside her. She coos and moans as she feels you hit her cervix,

“Fuck keep going!” She moans as you keeping ramming your cock. Her breath is ragged as her see through top invites you to slip your hands under the shirt and grab her perfect mounds.

She moans as your hands run all over her body. Her walls are velvet as the happily let you venture deeper into her tight snatch. Jiheon moans before staring back at you,

“This is gonna need to be an every weekend thing now!” You growl. Jiheon smirks

“Does Mr Smarty pants love my pussy?” She teased as she clenches around you,

You groan and say “yes! It’s perfect,” Jiheon smiled then adds,

“Well then as long as we can go on cute dates and I can play overwatch while sitting in your lap I’ll happily let you fuck me,”

You smile and say, “I love you,” Jiheon blushes at that before running into her wall of release. She groans as her pussy tightens around you despairing to milk you for all your worth before she squirts all over your cock. You groan as she moans trying to outlast her but she gives you that sultry needy look and you lose it.

Three hard pumps more and you’re flooding her pussy with cum. You can’t help it. Seeing her in the bathroom mirror so lost to pleasure just sets you off.

As the both of you come down the bathroom door opens and the rest of Jiheon’s crew find you balls deep inside her. Chaeyoung laughs and says, “Took you two long enough!”

[lowkeycasanova]

telling him you won't spend the night to get his reaction

Inspired by the tik tok trend. Requested but I can't find the message.

Headcanon

Characters: Monster trio + Ace & Law

Luffy

The ship had docked for the night. Sunny was rocking with the tide and dinner had been devoured. Now everyone was lounging around, chatting, cleaning up, or getting ready to turn in for the night.

"Oh, I decided I'm not gonna stay over tonight." you told casually told Luffy.

He blinks, processing your words like the don't quite make sense. Then his face immediately twists in a dramatic pout. "Huh? What do you mean you're not staying?"

You shrugged like it was nothing. "I mean I'm not staying over. What's the problem?"

His bottom lip sticks out and his brows scrunch in pure betrayal. "Where else would you go?"

When you don't take it back, he shifts closer to you. "Just stay. Why wouldn't you stay? You always stay." he says, softly caressing your hand.

You nearly want to melt right then, but you keep up the act. "You'll be fine for one night."

"No I won't." he argues instantly.

The look in his big, round eyes makes you crumble. You huff, unable to hold back your grin any longer. "Okay! Okay! It was a joke."

His face lights up, that pout disappearing like it was never there.

"Ahaha! I knew it!" he exclaims.

Zoro

Zoro sits on the deck, arms crossed, eyes closed - half napping, half listening to the sounds of the waves. You yawn beside him.

"Hey, so I'm actually not gonna sleep over tonight." you nudged him.

At first, he doesn't react. Just a slow blink, like he's debating on if he heard you right. Without opening his eyes, he mumbles, "What the hell do you mean?"

When you repeat yourself, his brows twitch slightly and turns his head to look at you. "Why?" his voice is steady, with an edge to it, like your answer better be good.

"I just wanted to sleep in my own bed tonight." you say as you force yourself to picture your own bed- how it feels, how it smells- anything to keep your expression neutral. Still you can feel the corners of your mouth threatening to twitch. You bite the inside of your cheek, staying strong.

"Tch. That's dumb. Just stay with me." he says so matter-of-factly like it's the obvious answer. Like there's no scenario where you shouldn't be in his bed tonight.

You insist and he narrows his eyes. "You tryna piss me off?"

He's not actually mad, not yet anyway, but the idea of you not being next to him irritates him more than he'd like to admit.

You keep it up but he acts unbothered. "Fine. Do whatever you want."

But when you stand up to leave, his strong arms wrap around you, pulling you down onto his lap. "You're not going anywhere."

He won't outright beg, but he's not above to using his strength to keep you exactly where you belong.

Sanji

Sanji is in the kitchen, smiling softly to himself with you on a stool a few feet away, enjoying each other’s company when you tell him, “Oh by the way, I’m not going to stay over tonight.”

The knife he’s holding clatters onto the cutting board. He freezes, mid-motion, shoulders stiff, as if you just told him the most heartbreaking news imaginable. Slowly, he turns to face you, eyes wide with pure devastation.

"What did you just say?"

When you repeat yourself, his brows knit together and he lets out a disappointed sigh. "Why?" his voice is calm but there's a clear sulking behind it.

You don't give a straight answer. He sets the knife aside, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. "You always stay. Why not tonight? Did I do something wrong?" he asks.

"No, of course not." you told him. "It's nothing bad."

You try to get up and leave to really sell it but he reaches out, gently grabbing your wrist. "At least stay until I finish cooking. You don't have to sleep over but...just have dinner first."

It was then when you couldn't hold it in anymore. You laugh but also nearly hold back what you think are tears from how sweet he's being. You confess it was just a joke and he lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

He runs a hand down his face, then showing that lopsided grin. A complete 180 from where he was a few seconds ago.

"My love, you nearly gave me a heart attack."

Ace

Ace is lying with his back on the bed, hands behind his head as he lazily watches you move around the room when you casually say, "Hey, I'm actually not gonna spend the night here tonight."

He blinks once. Then twice.

"Huh?"

When you repeat yourself, he stares at you as if you'd just slapped him. "You already told me you were staying. You changed your mind?"

"Yeah." you said like it was nothing at all. He shifts onto his side, propping his head up with his hand.

"If you want to break up with me, just say that."

You turn away, pretending to busy yourself with something- anything- to keep him from seeing the way your mouth is twitching into a smile and how your shoulders tremble from the effort of trying to hold in your laughter.

"'Cause there's no other reason you'd leave me here otherwise." he adds.

You bite your bottom lip, still refusing to turn around until you've mustered up enough strength to put on a serious face.

"I just wanted to have a night to myself. It's not that deep."

He lets out a wounded sigh. So dramatic. But the second you crack a smile, he sits up fast, pointing a finger at you. "I knew it! You're messing with me!"

Before you can even react, he grabs you and pulls you to the bed, wrapping his arms around you. His voice his smug, lightly brushing your ear. "Nah, you're staying. Too late to back out now."

Law

Law is sitting at his desk, flipping through some papers while he absentmindedly rambles to you about some new surgical technique.

"It's not widely used, but the survival rate is significantly higher-"

You sit on the bed that's close by, nodding along, but your mind is elsewhere. Which is a shame because it isn't often when he gets like this, talking about things he loves. You've been trying to find the right moment to say it but you can't just just blurt it out when he's speaking.

"The only issue is post operation infection. But if managed correctly-"

Okay, maybe once he finishes his thought.

Or the next one.

Finally, he pauses. Your fingers twitch. Just do it now.

You stretch your arms and pretend to yawn. "I think I'm gonna sleep in my room tonight."

He doesn't react at first. Just continuing to flip pages, pausing mid turn. Slowly, his eyes reach you, brows drawing together slightly. "...What?"

You repeat yourself and this time he sets the papers down completely. His gaze still lingers on you, sharp and calculating. "Why?"

"Wanted to sleep in my own room tonight." you shrug, keeping it vague. He exhales.

"But what's different about tonight?" he asks. You dodge it again.

"You're acting weird." he doesn't sound irritated, just skeptical. "Did something happen?"

You shake your head quickly, trying to keep your expression neutral. "No, nothing happened. Just felt like switching it up."

Law leans back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest as he studies you. His sharp eyes flick over your face, dissecting every little movement, every twitch of your lips, every blink too long. He’s catching on.

"You're lying," he states flatly.

Your fingers tighten against the sheets. "What? No, I’m not—"

"You are," he cuts in, unwavering. "Your body language changed the moment you said it." He tilts his head slightly, as if piecing together a puzzle. "You're suppressing a reaction. Trying too hard to act normal."

Damn it.

Law rubs his temple. "If you really didn't want to stay, I wouldn't stop you," he mutters, picking up his papers again.

The finality in his voice shatters your composure, and a laugh bursts out before you can stop it. You shake your head, waving your hands in surrender. "Okay, okay! You got me. It was a joke."

He clicks his tongue, shooting you a mildly exasperated look. "Figures." But the corner of his mouth turns up into a smile. Barely.

Still chuckling, you hop off the bed and make your way toward him, draping your arms over his shoulders from behind. "Aw, I'm sorry. " you tease.

He mumbles something under his breath. Then, without warning, he grabs your wrist and pulls you onto his lap, arms locking around you securely. His chin rests on your shoulder, his lips barely brushing against your skin as he exhales a quiet sigh, letting you know he's not as unaffected as he pretended to be.

[onepieceisreeeeaaalll]

You Have A Panic Attack | One Piece HC

Another one from the drafts. This one is a few mini blurbs. If you're someone who has panic attacks (like I do *cough cough*) then here's how they'd react.

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Law

CW: Panic attack, panic attack symptoms mention, GN!reader, no specific relationship mentions, could be early relationship/pre-relationship, use of (Y/N)

Check out my masterlist if you like stuff like this! I'm trying to clear out my drafts and get some stuff out for Valentine's Day.

LUFFY

The first time you had a panic attack in front of Luffy, he’s admittedly a little confused. You were hanging out on the deck of the Sunny, as per usual, goofing around and enjoying the warm sun with Luffy, Usopp and Chopper. Laughter and peace filled the air, a nice reprieve from the usual busy schedules you Straw Hats kept. It was like a switch went off, though. Seeing the change in your face, the way you politely tried to walk away and excuse yourself to go through it in private, it all set off alerts in his mind. 

“Hey, where ya goin’?” Luffy asked, following you inside the ship like a confused puppy. He couldn’t hide his disappointment that his best friend had walked away.

The moment your panic attack really set in, he grew concerned. The flushed cheeks, the heavy breathing, the look of pure dread and fear in your eyes. He had never seen you look that way without provocation, and certainly not when you were having a pretty good day up until this point.

“Whoa, whoa, what happened? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah…yeah, it’s just a p-panic attack. That’s all. I get ‘em all the time.��� You tried to reassure him, though it was also an attempt to reassure yourself. Your heart was racing in your chest, pounding in that familiar way that typically made you feel so weak.

“Panic attack?” Luffy asks, tilting his head. “What’s that?”

“It’s-...Luffy, I, uh…can’t really explain it right…now…” You responded, your voice growing just a little breathier. You leaned against a wall on the inside of the hallway, your hand resting over your chest in an attempt to calm yourself. 

Luffy stood there in minor shock, unsure of what to do for a good few moments. His brain was processing, taking in what facts he knew. You were upset, sure, and normally he’d just tease someone for something like this. The look in your eyes looked so vulnerable, though - this wasn’t you acting out of anything other than pure...well, panic.

It suddenly hit - a lightbulb going off in his head. He didn’t exactly know what a panic attack was, no, but he understood vaguely the feeling you were having. Flashes of his time after Ace flooded his mind, making his own heart ache in sympathy.

“C’mere.”

Before you even know what’s happening, Luffy’s wrapped his arms around you into a hug. It’s one of his signature ones - not too tight, not too loose. It’s perfect and warm; just like Luffy. At first, you weren’t sure what to do or say, but slowly you found your arms wrapped around him in return. 

“Don’t know why you’re freaking out, but I get it. I hope you feel better.” He murmured into your ear, and his chin moved down to rest on your shoulder. 

Enveloped in Luffy, you felt your rapidly beating heart gradually, slowly, starting to steady into a slow, easy rhythm. The drummer in your chest seemed to finally have enough. Your arms tightened around his form after a moment, and Luffy returned the gesture easily.

“Thank you.”

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

ZORO

Training had become a ritual for you every morning. To your surprise, Zoro would somehow manage to claw his way out of bed early enough to join you almost every day. There’d rarely be exceptions, so you’d both fallen into this routine high up in the crow’s nest - Zoro would work on his form and swordsmanship, and you would work on basic conditioning. It was an easy way to get the blood pumping, and neither of you minded the company. 

Sometimes, though, there was a tendency for you to overdo it. When life got particularly stressful, waves of desperate anxiety and despair had a habit of ripping through you. Even with the attempts of exercise to serve as a preventative measure, it wouldn’t always help. It was on one particular morning, with the beams of the sun shining over the floorboards, that you finally fell victim to one in the presence of the swordsman.

At first, Zoro just figured you were exhausted. With a small huff, he took his sword out of his mouth, holding two of them at the same time in one hand just to laugh at you. After all, it’s kind of funny that so little activity got you huffing and puffing.

“Come on - you that out of shape?” He mocked.

But your face looked numb - empty, even. And Zoro didn’t like that at all. Shakily, as you stood up from the weight bench, you felt that familiar racing heart leave you unsteady. Great, how the hell are you gonna get down like this? You didn’t bother answering Zoro, your eyes darting to the hole in the floor that led to the ladder. It’s a long climb down, and with the sweat on your palms, you weren’t certain you could make it. Maybe that’s what made this particular panic attack worse.

That’s when the hyperventilating really set in. And Zoro didn’t like that, at all.

“Hey, what gives? You okay?” He asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“Yeah, yeah, just…” You say, attempting to sound dismissive but the breathy quality of your voice gave away your anxiety. You couldn’t even finish the sentence, and your legs felt like lead as they carried you to the exit of the crow’s nest.

“(Y/N), don’t be an idiot.” Zoro interjected quickly, reaching out to grab your wrist. It wasn’t firm, but it was enough to stop you in your tracks. As you turned to look at him, all words died on his tongue. You looked scared. He let go of your wrist, looking you up and down. “Seriously, what’s wrong? You look like you’re freaked out.”

“I just…I get them sometimes, it’s not a big…” You tried to say, but your voice sounded shaky. You couldn’t trust it, and talking felt like such a monumental task paired with the exhaustion of your racing heart. 

“Get what?” He asked, furrowing his brows as he looked at you. Yeah, he didn’t get it. Not one bit. Zoro had seen you countless times on the battlefield, holding your own against some of the toughest enemies. Not once had he seen this expression from you before, at least not during a simple training routine. 

“Um…panic attacks. It’s just…my body likes to, um…” You stammered, and Zoro felt his heart clench. What the hell is a panic attack? But it didn’t matter. Whatever it was had stressed you out, and Zoro didn’t like that. At all.

Setting his swords aside, he moved over to one of the walls and took a seat easily. He looked up at you expectantly, and no words needed to be exchanged before you walked over to join him. Thighs touching, Zoro put his arms behind his head and leaned back against the wall. 

“I ever tell you about the bounty hunting I did before joining the crew?”

You were caught off-guard, and it’s enough to temporarily confuse you. Shaking your head, Zoro took it as his cue to proceed. It was a long story - he had gotten lost leaving his village and decided to pick up bounty hunting, call it training. As you leaned against him and listened, you eventually began to interject with your own comments and questions. Jokes spilled out of both of you, and that vein pulse through your body steadily went to the back of your head. Before you knew it, laughs became less breathless and the stable feeling of Zoro’s arm against yours felt like an anchor. Maybe later he’d ask you about panic attacks, what they are, and how long you’ve had them. For now, though, he was content to just talk to you and see that smile return to your face.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

SANJI

You weren’t exactly sure what started it - whether it was the loud noises at dinner, the texture of the food as you scraped the pans clean, or the fact that you had carelessly dropped a dish and shattered it onto the ground. Regardless of what had actually gotten to you, your body felt that familiar rise of dread and paranoia that always signaled the start of a really, really long night. Sanji had assured you when you dropped the plate that it was fine, that he could clean it, and that you really didn’t need to help him clean up after dinner. After all, it was his responsibility, even when you insisted on spending this time with him every night.

That wasn’t enough to ease your mind or your racing pulse.

You sat down on a chair at the edge of the kitchen, hoping to catch your breath. You pressed your cool hands against your face, but it did nothing to abate the flush of anxiety pooling blood to your cheeks. Sanji being Sanji, it took him all of five seconds after throwing away the broken glass to notice that you weren’t okay.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, quirking a curled eyebrow as he looked at you. That look in your eyes when you turned your attention to him made his heart clench. Something was very, very wrong. “Don’t worry about the dish,” He added quickly, hoping that maybe this was the issue, “We have plenty. If you’d like, I can-”

“Sanji, please.” You murmured, burying your face in your hands again. This wasn’t like you, and that set off warning bells in his head yet again.

Taking a few measured steps forward, he bent down on one knee to look at you. You were shaking, your face was flushed, and it didn’t seem like you had any reason to be afraid. Yet, here you were, hiding your face from him in his kitchen.

“Mon amour, can you look at me?”

Something about that made you want to curl up into a ball and disappear. Maybe it was because he was so gentle, or maybe it was the shame of having this happen in front of him. Regardless, with a lot of reluctance, you peeked your eyes over your hands to meet his gaze. You were met with Sanji’s brows knitted, his eyes narrowed as he observed your expression carefully. For his part, Sanji had taken particular notice of your unsteady breathing. He thought he had an idea of what was going on, even if he didn’t fully understand what had started it. With a sigh, he stood up and took his pack of cigarettes from his pocket.

“Can you do something for me?”

Your hands slowly dropped from your face down into your lap as you looked up at him. You watched as he lit up a cigarette, and he took your silence as you were either too upset to talk or at least willing to listen. With that permission, he continued.

“I want you to count down from a hundred. Can you do that? And when you’re finished, tell me how many things in this kitchen are blue.” He said simply, taking a drag from his cigarette. He was careful to blow the smoke away from you, and it was something that even in your panic attack, you appreciated. He was always so considerate.

“What?” You asked, your voice breathless. 

Sanji hummed at your question, flashing you a warm smile.

“Just trust me. Do it aloud, okay? I wanna hear it.” 

So, after a few moments of careful contemplation, you did. Unsteadily, you closed your eyes as you focused on each number. Your voice was still shaky when you reached the end, but you managed to get through it. When you opened your eyes, you looked around the kitchen and easily identified each blue item. Some kitchen towels, Sanji’s shirt, his eyes, a few cooking utensils. Sanji would occasionally ask for details, and by the end of it, you realized you weren’t shaking anymore. Your body was still, your heart was normal, and you felt…exhausted, but better. In your silence, Sanji let out a small laugh and put out his cigarette before walking over to the counter across the kitchen. He had to resume cleaning up, after all.

“That always helped me when I felt weird. Figured it might help you, too.” He answered as if he had predicted exactly what you were thinking. “Next time it happens, come find me. I’d be happy to help you out.”

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

LAW

You were walking through the halls of the Polar Tang, intent on getting some work done. Life wasn’t always easy on the ship, but the crew itself made it feel as though the sun wasn’t all that far away even hundreds of miles beneath the surface. It had been weeks since the ship had been anywhere near the open air, though, and that craving for freedom was starting to grate on everyone’s nerves.

You made it just outside of Law’s office, holding a logbook of some patients under your arms that you intended to show him. As your hand came up to knock on the door, though, the panic attack set in. It came as it always did - quickly, brutally, and with a raging need to be attended to immediately. You took a deep breath, trying to force your body to calm down with the knowledge that you’ve already knocked on Law’s door. It’s too late to walk away and come back later.

The moment Law opened the door, his face as neutral and uncompromising as always, he knew something was wrong. He couldn’t quite place it, but there was something off about you. You looked almost surprised to see him there despite the fact that you knocked.

“(Y/N)-ya?” He asked, his tone as disinterested as his expression.

You took another deep breath, grabbing the book beneath your arm with shaky hands and holding it out to him.

“Here. I just needed to…give you this.” You said, your voice shaky and noticeably just a little labored.

“Thank you…” Law replied, a hint of skepticism in his tone as he accepted the book. He noticed the way your hands lingered on the book, almost like you were forgetting to let it go, and that was the last straw for Law. Something was clearly wrong. 

As you began to turn to leave his office, his hand darted out to gently grab your wrist. This didn’t help your anxiety, not one bit, and you froze in response. This didn’t go unnoticed by the surgeon.

“Hey, come in for a minute. I want to show you something.” He said, and his tone was as stern as usual, leaving no room for argument. Not that you could argue right now, anyway. 

You let him lead you into his office, the familiar cluttered spaces making you feel all the more claustrophobic. Ah, that’s what it was - the walls were closing in, leaving your lungs lacking air and your heart palpitating. Sometimes it was a little game to figure out what had set off the panic attack in the first place. 

And it seemed Law had somehow figured that out, too. He led you to his chair and gently sat you down, letting go of your wrist. You didn’t bother watching as he fumbled with something behind you, and before you knew it, a bright light shined down and provided warmth. You finally turned back to look at him, your brows furrowed. You’re met with that same unaffected stare as he moved around you, leaning a hand and his hip against his desk.

“It’s not good to be without sunlight for so long. I picked one of these UV lamps up at a port a few islands back. I think I’ll be buying a few more for the sub.” Law explained, speaking of it as if it’s something as mundane as the weather. For you, though, you feel your heart spike. This time, not with anxiety - anticipation.

“Really?” You asked, and that hopeful lilt in your voice made the doctor smile just a fraction. 

“Yeah.” He responded simply, and he turned his gaze to a porthole on the far wall. Then, to your surprise, he kept speaking. “Panic attacks are pretty common, (Y/N)-ya, and I know them when I see them. I have some reading I’d like to give you, and maybe we can talk medication at some point. For now, just try to relax and soak in the UV.”

You were nearly floored at his response. You’d tired yourself out so often having to explain what panic attacks were, how they affected you, and why they came up. But Law knew. Of course he did. You remained silent for a moment before leaning back in his chair, closing your eyes to take his advice. This pleased him more than words could say.

Your heart was still racing, that dread making you feel dizzy, but the warmth of the UV light was almost soothing. You heard Law rustling with some things on his desk, busying himself, and he began to read some of the logs from the book you’d given him out loud. You weren’t sure if it was more for himself or for you, but his voice did add that last touch to help relax and calm you down. When you felt your heart return to normal, and your lungs were satisfied with the oxygen you provided them, you finally settled down into a restful sleep in Law's chair. He was grateful that you couldn't see the small smile that rose to his lips.

[bloatedandalone04]

Don’t Ever Leave My Side

➪the one where you finally let jake take you out on a date after countless rejections, but it turns out that the guy you convinced yourself he was, isn’t who he is at all.

Warnings: smut, fluff, pda, unprotected sex, swearing, pining, oral (f receiving), jake being whipped bc i missed writing for him

Word Count: 4.7k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

You weren’t sure why you had reapplied your makeup for the third time now after deciding that it didn’t look good enough. And you opted to leave your hair how it normally looked right after a shower and to not touch it, but here you were, hastily curling it as you checked the time on your phone for the fourth time since plugging in the curling iron. 

None of it mattered at all. It was just a stupid date. One stupid date you promised Jake Seresin you’d go on with him, that was it. 

The guy had been asking you out for months now, and you’ve shut him down every time since you knew how he was with the women who frequented the Hard Deck. He was a player, in the sky and on the ground, and you wanted nothing to do with it, which is why you’ve rejected him more times than you can count on both hands. 

Yet he was persistent, the fucker. To get him to stop, you agreed to go out with him the last time you bumped into him, and that date was scheduled for tonight. In exactly four minutes, but you were planning on being late just to fuck with him, because there was no way you were going on a second date with him. No way. No.

You just finished your hair when your phone went off with a text, and you glanced down at it as you unplugged the curler and set it down on the counter. 

Jake Seresin: I’m here, gorgeous. Hope you’re prepared for tonight ;)

For some reason, reading that gave you butterflies in your stomach, and you quickly typed out a response before setting your phone down and pulling on the simple black dress you picked out for tonight.

Nice. I’m not ready yet.

The dress was tight around your torso area but got looser around your thighs, and the straps were so thin, you had to wear a strapless bra so it didn’t look dumb. The hem around your chest was lace and provided a small amount of cleavage that left nothing to the imagination, so yeah. It was very simple. 

After checking yourself a respectable three times, you slide on your ankle boots and grab your purse. 

You wondered if Jake was annoyed that you took so long to get ready since he read your text but never responded to it, but you were wrong as you opened your front door and saw him leaning against the passenger side of his truck with a stupid fucking smile on his face. “Hey, sweetheart,” he greeted as you huffed and turned to lock the door. When you made your way over to him, Jake moved out of the way and opened the passenger door for you. “You look stunning.”

“Thanks,” you drag the word out a bit as you hop up onto the seat and place your hands on your lap as he shuts the door behind you. A few seconds later, he was sitting beside you in the driver’s seat as he put the truck into drive. “Where are we going?”

Jake grinned over at you as he flicked the radio on, and some country song began playing quietly through the speakers as he answered, “It’s a surprise. Shocking, I know, but if I’m only getting one shot at this, I’m gonna do it right,”

“Great, I love surprises,” you mumbled, looking out the window before quickly looking back at him once you further processed his words. “And there’s no if, Jake. You are only getting one shot at this.”

You weren’t sure whose head you were trying to get that through at this point. 

But Jake wasn’t fazed as his grin grew. “Better make sure I don’t fuck this up then,” he said, glancing over at you. “I promise, I’ll make it count.”

He sounded so excited and he looked hot in his jeans and button up and jacket. You hated it, because you’ve seen him with other girls before, and he never put on this nice of an outfit, and he never gave them the amount of attention he’s already given you since you left your house. 

And you were even more annoyed when he pulled into a parking spot right outside your favorite Italian restaurant ten minutes later. You looked at the bright sign that said the name of the restaurant with squinted eyes before looking over at Jake. “Why are we here?”

Jake looked a bit panicked for a second as he paused mid-way through taking off his seatbelt. “Is this not…I thought this was your favorite place to eat at,” he sounded nervous now and you loosened up a bit as you took off your own seatbelt. 

“It is,” you confirmed, “But how did you know that?”

Jake looked more relaxed as he finally let his seatbelt go and opened the door. “Bird Boy told me,” he said and you groaned. 

“Damnit, Rooster,” you muttered as you grabbed your bag and reached for the handle, but Jake was already there and opening the door for you. “I’m going to yell at him the next time I see him.” You state as you get out of the truck.

Bradley was your best friend, and the guy who had witnessed a lot of your rejections to Jake firsthand. You weren’t all that surprised that he felt a little bad for the blond and helped him out with this, because your best friend was a decent guy and one of your favorite people. But you were still going to yell at him.

“Really?” Jake laughed as he placed his hand on the small of your back and led you towards the doors of the restaurant. “Because I can’t stop thanking the guy, and that’s kind of a big deal for me.”  

You huffed out a laugh in return as he guided you inside, and a few minutes later you were sitting at a booth with him with your drinks placed in front of you. Your menu was flat on the table while he held his up, his eyes flickering over the options as you subtly watched him. 

“What’s good here?” He asked, “This is my first time in this place.”

You picked up your margarita with a shrug, “Everything, from what I can tell,”

Jake glanced at you over the top of his menu, his brows furrowing as he realized that you didn’t even look at your own. “What are you doing? What’s wrong?”

You set your drink down and leaned back against the booth. “I know what I’m getting. I get it every time,”

Jake’s lips turned upwards at that as he set the menu down and slid his water closer to him on the table. “Oh, you’re one of those people, huh?” He asked with a smirk as he sipped a bit of the bland drink. “You don’t like, I don’t know, trying something different?”

“If it’s not broken, don’t fix it?” You offer with a raised brow as you watch him set the water back down. “You’re seriously not drinking tonight?”

He shook his head as he closed the menu and pushed both yours and his to the edge of the table. “No. I want to be sober the whole time so I can remember this night with vivid detail. I think you deserve that,”

Your face heated up as you cleared your throat, his words doing a number on you as you sat up a bit. “What are you getting?” You quickly change the subject as you felt the sudden urge to kiss the guy you’ve been avoiding for months now. 

“What are you getting?” He asked back and you narrowed your eyes as you told him your usual order. “Perfect, I’ll get that too. Maybe I’ll like it enough to order it every time I come here.”

And that was how you found yourself eating identical meals not long after, and a blush seemed to be stuck on your face as you answered every single question he had for you. Your favorite color, your favorite song, the teacher you hated most in high school, your worst dating experience, all of it.

For some reason, this wasn’t bad. This wasn’t bad at all. Talking with Jake felt easy, like you could do it all the time and never complain about it. Why was this shaping out to be kind of the perfect first date? Why was he kind of being the perfect gentleman? 

He seemed so interested in you, like how he was during the build ups to him eventually asking you out. You were beginning to feel bad about constantly saying no, because you were actually having a really good time with him. 

“Well?” You started as Jake asked for the bill. “How was it? Will you be returning just to order that every time?” You gestured to the empty plates in front of you and Jake shrugged as he took out his wallet. 

“It wasn’t bad. Your taste in food is pretty decent,” he hummed as the waitress, who had been checking Jake out the whole night and who hadn’t been looked at by him for more than a total of six seconds, placed the bill on the table. You reached for your own wallet but he stopped you and handed you his keys instead. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. Wait in the truck for me, okay?”

You take the keys from him and give the waitress a soft smirk as you stand up, noticing the scowl that had formed on her face as she heard the affectionate nickname Jake gave you. 

Less than a minute later, Jake was beside you in his truck again as he backed out of the parking space with one hand. You were feeling a bit shy now as you looked over at him and took in just how handsome he actually is. “Thanks for tonight,” you say quietly as he pulls out onto the road. “It was kinda…it was fun.”

“You think it’s over?” He laughed softly as he glanced over at you in the dark truck. “I only get you to myself for one night, you really think I’m just taking you out to dinner?”

Your face heated up for the hundredth time tonight as you quickly broke eye contact. “Oh…where else are we going?”

Jake looked back at the road as he drove with one hand, and you were sure he wasn’t aware of just how hot that was. “To the place we first met,” he answered simply and your eyes widened a bit as you laughed.

“The Hard Deck?”

“Yeah,” he grinned over at you. “I have to show at least one person from work that I actually managed to get you to go out with me. And Bird Boy doesn’t count.”

You weren’t entirely sure why, but that had you smiling like a love struck teenager the whole ride, and when you arrived at the Hard Deck, you allowed Jake to lead you inside with his hand placed firmly on your hip. 

A few of his coworkers smirked at him, a few looked beyond shocked, and then there was Bradley, who avoided eye contact with you as soon as you entered the bar. Okay, so maybe you wouldn’t be yelling at him later. 

The Hard Deck was rowdy as usual, but Jake wasn’t paying attention to anyone but you, and you realized just how much you liked being the center of his attention. 

And he was completely sober as he held you in his arms as the two of you swayed to an old song playing on the jukebox. He looked content and so handsome, you had to look away as you mumbled, “Okay, so maybe this isn’t so bad after all,” and pressed the side of your face against his chest. “You kind of planned the most perfect first date, Jake. I’m actually so surprised.”

Your head vibrated a bit when he laughed and tightened his hold on you as if he was scared to let you go. “Well, when you’re determined to make someone fall head over heels for you, you’ve got to put in a bit of effort,” he said and your whole body heated up in a blush. “So, uh…does this mean there’s gonna be a second date?”

You pull back slightly and look up at him. “That depends on you,” came your quiet response as you slid your hands up his back. “You’ve been the most perfect gentleman tonight, and you’ve been so sweet, but will it be like this every time? Or was this just a show for tonight?”

Jake lifted a hand and brushed some of your hair behind your ear, his thumb stroking your cheek after. “You deserve to be treated right, and I want to be the person to do that. I want to be the perfect guy for you, Y/n. You’re special to me,” he said and sounded so genuine, you had no choice but to believe his words. “Give me a chance to show you that I’m not the stuck up ladies man you think I am. I’m falling for you…and I don’t want to mess this up.”

There it was. Jake had just put his heart on his sleeve for you, and now it was completely up to you what happened next. 

You press your lips together and look down at the wooden floor of the bar. “I was wrong about you. You’re not the player I thought you were. And honestly, I don’t care about how many women you’ve been with. The guy you’ve been tonight…it’s a different side of you, Jake. Or maybe it’s who you’ve been this whole time and I’ve just been too stubborn to see it,” you murmur and place your hands flat on his chest as you look back up at him. “The guy you are right now, I can see myself with him. With you. Tonight has been…perfect, in every single way. You’ve been perfect, Jake.”

There was your own confession that, early this morning, you would’ve never said out loud, but things had clearly changed. 

Jake smiled and leaned down to brush his lips against yours in a teasing kiss. “You haven’t seen anything yet, sweetheart,” he whispered against your mouth before pulling back to look into your eyes. “So why don’t we skip right to the part where you agree to a second date?” He asked in a deep voice as he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to him.

You laughed, looking up at him with unguarded eyes. “I think it’s safe to say you got that second date. And the third. And the fourth,” you grinned, curling your fingers around his jacket as your gaze intensified a bit. “Tell me something, does the perfect gentleman kiss on the first date? Because that teaser you just gave me wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy what I’m feeling right now.”

Jake’s smile grows before he leans down and presses his lips to yours in a searing kiss. It starts off somewhat soft, and he lets you take the lead as you kiss him a bit deeper, and then his tongue was pushing past your lips and brushing against yours. 

It was clear from the kiss that he had been holding back his desire for you for months, and you suddenly didn’t regret pushing him away so much, because it allowed you to feel every inch of his want for you with every brush of his mouth against yours. 

After a few more seconds, he breaks the kiss. “There you go,” he murmured, his thumb brushing against your puffy bottom lip. “But that’s just one of many. I plan on kissing the fuck out of you on every single one of those future dates.”

A content hum leaves your lips, a feeling of excitement for the future settling in your bones as you lean up and kiss him again. Soon enough you’d become addicted. You were sure of it. 

Your fingers slide into his hair as the music continues to play and the patrons of the bar chat amongst themselves, not paying either of you any attention as you lose yourselves in each other. 

Jake’s hands grip your waist tighter, pulling your chest against his. “You’re mine now, Y/n,” he mumbled when he finally broke the kiss after a few minutes, and you held back a squeal at just how good that sounded. “I’ll make you happy, I swear it.” 

You bite down on your lip and trace the sides of his face with your fingers. “Any chance the perfect gentleman takes me to bed on the first date?” You playfully asked, but you were also very serious, even if you thought that you should probably wait to have sex. Maybe until the second date. That seemed long enough. 

“Patience, baby,” he rasped, tugging at your bottom lip with his thumb. “A perfect gentleman knows how to build anticipation.”

He tucks a few strands of hair behind your ear as you hum quietly, threading your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck as you try not to squeal again at the cute pet name. 

“Besides, I have a feeling you’re going to be worth the wait. I know it’ll be…fucking amazing between us,” he added, brushing another soft kiss to your lips. “Don’t worry, by the end of our second date, I’ll give it to you so good, you’ll still be sore when we go on our third date.” 

You grin excitedly and nod. “It’s okay,” you whisper, “I can wait. I know that now, Jake. You’re worth the wait.”

Jake smiled down at you before kissing you one last time then taking your hand and leading you towards the bar. 

-

A couple weeks, and several dates later, you and Jake are officially together and crazy in love with each other. 

The realization that you had only pushed him away for so long because you were so into him was a tough pill to swallow, but when you finally got it down, you threw yourself headfirst into this relationship with him, and neither of you planned to look back. 

It became official shortly after the first date, where he drove you home, kissed you sweetly, then left you wanting more. By the end of the second date, Jake stayed true to his promise and fucked you so good into his mattress, you were addicted by the time the sun came up. 

You’d both been insatiable since then, which wasn’t all that surprising. The chemistry between you two had been undeniable from the start, so of course the sex was fucking amazing. 

Now, having just gotten back to his place after your eighth date, you and he can’t keep your hands off one another as you stumble through his front door, your mouths connected and your hands all over each other. 

You pull off his jacket and let it fall to the floor of the entryway while he helps you slide off your heels, your mouths meshing noisily together. He kicks the door shut before reaching down to grab the backs of your thighs, never breaking the kiss as he lifts you into his arms. He begins to walk towards his bedroom, his hands gripping your thighs tightly as he pulls away. “I’m gonna take you slow and deep tonight,” he mumbled against your lips. “Wanna drag it out this time.”

He was referring to the previous date, when he fucked you hard and fast into his couch while you screamed your throat raw, and the reminder of it just turned you on even more. 

Jake lays you down on his bed before standing back up and working on ridding himself of his belt. You lean back on the bed, pulling your dress off to leave you in a matching black lace lingerie set that paired sinfully well with your thigh high stockings. 

Leaning back on your elbows, you spread your thighs and beckon him to you with a curl of your finger. “Come here,”

Jake’s eyes darken as he takes in the sight of you. He’s seen you naked countless of times by now, but seeing you in something so effortlessly hot was something else, especially since he knew exactly what the black fabric was hiding from him. 

His hands reach down to pull off his belt and he shrugs off his clothes, leaving on his boxer briefs for now and showing off just how hard you made him through the thin material. 

Crawling onto the bed, he positions himself between your thighs, his lips peppering kisses along your stomach as his fingers tease the edge of your panties. “God, you’re fucking stunning,” he mumbled, running his fingers over the flimsy fabric. “Tell me, baby, were these expensive?”

You hum, looking down at him as you shrug. “A little, but not too bad,”

Jake smirked, mumbling a quick, “Good,” before he ripped the delicate fabric and tossed it aside, revealing your slick folds to his needy eyes. 

“Jake!” You gasped, your eyes widening as his big hands gripped the backs of your thighs and spread your legs a bit wider. 

“I’ll buy you more, one in every color,” he promised, grinning up at you before looking back down at your heat. He runs his fingers through your wetness, a satisfied hum leaving his mouth, “You’re so wet for me, baby. All for me.”

Then he was burying his face between your thighs, his tongue poking out to lick a stripe up your entrance before sucking on your clit. “Oh, fuck,” you whined and he groaned, sending a jolt of pleasure up your body. You shuddered, your muscles tightening as you reached down to tangle your fingers in his hair. “Just like that, Jake. Feels so good.”

Jake’s tongue pressed more firmly against your clit while his fingers gathered more of your wetness before sinking knuckle-deep inside you. He fucks them in and out of you as his teeth gently nip at your sensitive bundle of nerves, and you fell back onto his pillow as he devoured you. 

The sight of you looking already so fucked out with your hair draped across his pillow had him refraining from bucking his hips against the bed, because it was something he had been dreaming about seeing for months. He was still kind of shocked that he could now see it whenever he wanted.

“Fuck,” you gasped, arching your back as he guided your legs to rest over his shoulders. Your fingers were pulling on his hair pretty hard, and he fucking loved it. He loved every single second he spent with you, and he couldn’t get enough of your sweet taste, your soft moans and the fact that you had finally, finally given him the chance he’s been craving for so long. 

You were finally his, and he was never letting you go. 

“Cum for me,” he mumbled, flicking your clit with his tongue as he curled his fingers deep inside you. “Cum all over my face, baby. Let me taste it.”

If there was one thing Jake knew how to do, it was to spew the most filthy fucking things to you. And he knew you loved it. He found that out pretty quickly the first time he took you to bed, and he was more than willing to delve into your desire for dirty talk. 

Like he suspected, your mouth parted in a loud moan as you tugged harshly on his hair, and a second later you were coming on his tongue and fingers. “Jake…holy fuck, baby,” you moaned as you writhed against his face. “Fuck…feels so fucking good.”

The taste of you on his tongue makes him groan, and he continues to ravish your pussy until you’re shaking and whimpering incoherently. Once you settled a bit, Jake lifted his head, his lips and chin soaked with your release as he grins up at you and begins to place kisses along your stomach while he pushes his boxers down. 

He hovers over you, his hands squeezing your breasts through your bra as he teases your quivering heat with the tip of his cock. “I need you, baby,” he mumbled, reaching down to grip his base as he coats himself in your arousal before slowly pushing inside you. “Fuck, you’re tight.” He groaned, dropping his head to your shoulder as he started to slowly rock into you.

His hand moves from your chest to grip your hips as he picks up the speed a bit, his body fitting perfectly against yours with each deep thrust,

“There you go,” he rasped, kissing along your neck. “Take it all, baby, every inch.”

You moan loudly as you arch your back, and you guide his hands around you to the clasp of your bra. “Fuck, Jake, you feel so good,” you whimpered, wrapping your legs tightly around his waist. 

Jake hums, expertly unclasping your bra before guiding the straps down your arms, all while keeping the pace of his thrusts. His eyes immediately lock onto your breasts, now bare to his dark eyes as they bounce with every movement. “You’re a fucking dream,” he mumbled, leaning down to wrap his lips around one of your nipples as he rocks his hips against yours. “You make me lose control, every single time.” He grunted through ragged breaths, his cock brushing against every hidden spot deep inside you. 

“Jake,” you moan desperately, guiding his mouth to yours in a messy kiss. “I love you.”

He groans, kissing you again as he feels himself close to coming already because you felt that fucking good. “I love you, too,” he rasped, his words muffled against your mouth. “So fucking much.”

You moaned, tugging on his hair as you lazily met his thrusts halfway. “I’m close,” you mumbled and he groaned in both pleasure and relief as he reached down to rub circles against your clit. 

“Me too,” he muttered, pinching and pulling at your bundle of nerves. “Cum with me, baby. Let go for me.”

A few seconds later, you were coming for a second time, but on his cock, and a couple thrusts later, he was too. He filled you up as his body shuddered, his lips pressing soft kisses to your neck as he fucked his seed deep inside you. 

Once you were both spent, he collapsed gently on top of you, keeping his cock lodged inside you as he cuddled you against his chest. “Stay with me tonight,” he begged quietly, turning you both on your sides and tucking your head under his chin. 

You smiled, nuzzling against his sweaty chest. “Where else would I be?”

Jake smiled back, pulling you impossibly closer. “What about tomorrow? Will you stay here tomorrow, too? We can have breakfast in bed,” he offered with a teasing grin on his lips. 

You hummed, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Pancakes or waffles?” You ask instead of answering him, confirming that you will be staying at his place for the remainder of the weekend. 

“Pancakes,” he replied, pulling back to press a chaste kiss to your lips. “And bacon. A fuckton of it.”

Even though this wasn’t the first time you would be spending the night in his arms, Jake still felt beyond happy that, after months of pining over you, he was given the chance to experience life with you. He was also really fucking excited to spend tomorrow morning with you in his bed. 

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he mumbled, holding you a bit tighter. “Wanted you.”

You go silent for a few seconds before pulling back to press a soft kiss to his lips. “I’m sorry I made you wait so long,” you whispered, tracing the curve of his bottom lip with your finger. “Truthfully, I didn’t think it could be this good. I was so wrong.”

Jake shakes his head, taking your hand in his and pressing a few kisses to your knuckles. “Don’t be sorry,” he said quietly. “It was worth it, all of it, if it meant we’d end up like this. Together.”

He leaned down to kiss you deeply, and you returned it instantly. “I love you,” you mumbled against his lips as you gently gripped his face. 

“I love you, too,” he said back and meant it with his whole heart as he rolled you onto your back again and settled on top of you.

Because without a doubt, his heart had been entirely yours since the second he saw you, and he knew that, he was just finally able to make you see it too.

[sunarryn]

DP X Marvel #25

Danny Fenton hadn’t meant to punch Captain America in the face. In fact, he’d spent the better part of the week trying not to punch anyone, despite the rapidly growing laundry list of reasons to lose his cool—like not sleeping for seventy-two hours because Technus decided to merge his data with every Bluetooth speaker in the tri-state area, or the GIW tracking his every move again, or that weird, suspicious portal energy he kept picking up from somewhere labeled Stark Tower. Danny was running on fumes, ghostly adrenaline, and one too many Red Bulls when it happened. Really, the stars aligned perfectly for an international incident.

He’d only been in New York for six hours, trying to find the source of the energy spike without alerting every superhero on the block—because the last thing he needed was to get into it with the Avengers. Again. The last time had involved Hulk trying to punch a ghost and failing miserably, Thor throwing Mjölnir into the Ghost Zone, and Iron Man demanding to know if ectoplasm was FDA approved. It was a whole thing.

Danny was crouched on the rooftop of some high-rise, scanning with a modified Fenton Specter-Tracker, eyes bloodshot and twitching slightly. He hadn’t slept since Monday. It was Thursday.

“Hey, kid,” came a voice behind him, calm but firm.

Danny spun like a feral cat, eyes glowing, hair frizzed out with ghost static. He registered the silhouette of a man—tall, broad-shouldered, carrying a star-shaped shield—and his brain went danger. Ghost hunter? No. GIW agent? No. Super-soldier-hydra-time-travel-experiment?

He didn’t even process it. He just swung.

There was a crack like a thunderclap, followed by the very human sound of pain—a grunt that broke mid-voice like it had surprised the man himself. Captain Steve Rogers staggered back, hand pressed to his jaw, blinking stars out of his vision and trying to comprehend the fact that someone had just hit him hard enough to make him feel it. Not just feel it—wince. His serum-enhanced, war-hardened, literally-punched-by-Thor-once jaw hurt.

Danny stood frozen, fist still outstretched, pupils blown wide in horror.

“Oh my God. Oh my God. I just punched Captain America. I just decked the star-spangled man with a plan. I am so sorry—I thought you were a ghost! Or like—a time-traveling war criminal! Wait, that’s redundant—”

“Okay, wow,” Steve mumbled, touching his jaw again. “That’s definitely gonna bruise.”

Danny looked like he was about to combust. “Why were you behind me like that?! Who just materializes out of nowhere and says ‘hey, kid’ in the middle of a rooftop stakeout?! I thought I was being ambushed!”

Steve blinked. “I was asking for directions.”

Danny gasped. “You were WHAT?”

Steve looked sheepish. “Tony dropped me off on the wrong building. Said, and I quote, ‘GPS is for cowards.’ I’ve been circling the same three blocks for twenty minutes.”

Danny stared. “Captain America got lost and asked a sleep-deprived half-ghost teenager for directions?”

“I didn’t know you were a sleep-deprived half-ghost teenager,” Steve said defensively. “You looked… competent. Specter-tracker aside.”

Danny made a strangled noise and sat down hard, face buried in his hands. “I’m going to be assassinated by your PR team.”

Steve rubbed his jaw again. “You’re stronger than you look.”

“That is not the point here!”

“No, seriously,” Steve insisted, kneeling down. “That punch? I’ve taken hits from Thanos. You rattled me.”

Danny peeked through his fingers. “Are you flirting with me?”

“What? No!”

“You’re complimenting my punch like it’s a pickup line.”

“I’m—okay, no. You’re a kid.”

“I’m nineteen!”

Steve squinted. “You look like you’ve been through five timelines and one midlife crisis.”

“I have!” Danny wailed. “Do you know what it’s like to babysit the entire ghost population of the afterlife and then accidentally elbow Thor in the ribs during a training session because you forgot he was behind you?! I’m a walking international crisis!”

Steve paused. “Wait. You trained with Thor?”

“Long story. I died once, came back, now I punch ghosts for fun and may or may not be legally considered a WMD by six governments.”

Steve took a long breath. “Do all teenagers do this now? Or is this just a… you thing?”

Danny groaned. “Just me. I’m special.”

Steve lowered his shield and sat cross-legged like they were about to have a heart-to-heart. “You okay, kid?”

“No! I haven’t slept in three days, my enemies keep possessing animatronics to scare me, and I just committed accidental patriotic assault!”

Steve tried not to smile. He really did. “You got a name?”

Danny sighed. “Danny. Danny Fenton. Or Phantom. Depends on how you know me.”

Steve looked intrigued. “You’re the ghost kid.”

Danny flinched. “I prefer ghost young adult, thank you.”

“You’re the one Nick Fury won’t shut up about.”

Danny’s eyes widened. “He talks about me?”

“Nonstop. Every meeting. ‘The ghost kid leveled a tank with his pinky finger!’ ‘The ghost kid opened a portal to another dimension with a yawn!’” Steve did a passable impression of Fury’s gruff voice. “‘You think your team’s strong? Try containing a seventeen-year-old who talks to the dead like it’s a podcast!’”

Danny laughed, a bit unhinged, definitely sleep-deprived. “I did do the tank thing. That was an accident.”

“Fury thinks you’re the future.”

“That’s horrifying.”

“You’re not wrong.”

Danny looked at him warily. “Are you gonna try to recruit me?”

Steve considered. “Honestly? Not until you’ve slept. You look like you’d punch Thor if he asked you for coffee.”

“I have, and I did, and he was proud of me.”

“…Of course he was.”

There was a moment of silence, just the city humming beneath them, both of them sitting cross-legged like two war veterans who somehow found themselves on a rooftop in Manhattan instead of the battlefield they were clearly built for.

“So,” Steve said eventually. “You gonna tell me why you’re camped out here?”

Danny pointed to the tracker. “Someone in that building”—he gestured vaguely toward Stark Tower—“is leaking interdimensional ghost radiation like it’s designer cologne. I was trying to be subtle.”

Steve looked at the tower. “That’s Tony.”

Danny blinked. “Tony Stark is radiating ectoplasmic energy?”

“Yeah. He bought a ghost portal off eBay last month. Said it’d be good for ‘multiverse surveillance.’ It… got loose.”

Danny stood up so fast he swayed. “I knew it! I told Jazz that someone was messing with rogue ghost portals again and she said I was paranoid! I am paranoid! But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong!”

“You’re… very high-strung.”

Danny glared. “Do you have a collection of alternate-universe versions of yourself constantly trying to kill you?”

Steve held up his hands. “Fair.”

Suddenly, Danny wobbled. His legs buckled, and Steve caught him with a grunt. “Woah, hey, hey! Okay, that’s enough hero time for now.”

“I’m fine,” Danny slurred. “I’ve just been awake for three days. It’s not a problem unless I—”

He passed out.

Steve stared down at the kid—a half-dead, glowing teen who apparently punched like a demigod and talked like a sitcom character on speed—and muttered, “…Tony owes me so much alcohol for this.”

He slung Danny over his shoulder and started walking toward the Tower.

A few floors down, Tony Stark looked up from his holograms and blinked as the elevator pinged open.

Steve walked in carrying what looked like a sleep-dead raccoon in human form.

Tony blinked. “Did you adopt a raccoon?”

“He punched me.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “…You?”

“Knocked me back five feet.”

Tony whistled. “Damn. Strong raccoon.”

“He’s nineteen. Name’s Danny Fenton. Ghost kid.”

Tony’s eyes widened. “Oh. Oh. The one Fury thinks is a nuclear bomb with social anxiety.”

Steve dumped Danny on the nearest couch. “Let him sleep. He earned it.”

Tony looked down at Danny. “Should I be worried he’s glowing?”

“No. But maybe hide the ghost portal.”

Tony scoffed. “I knew someone was tracking it.”

Danny stirred, groaning, “Stark, I swear to the Ancients, if I wake up and your toaster is haunted again, I’m putting salt in your arc reactor…”

Steve stared. “Wait, what?”

Tony sighed. “Long story. Ghosts don’t like me. Something about my attitude.”

Steve sat down, already dreading explaining this to Fury.

Across the room, Danny turned on his side, mumbled, “Tell the Captain I didn’t mean to punch him…”

Steve looked over, surprisingly fond. “It’s fine, kid. I’ve had worse.”

Danny let out a soft snore.

Tony grinned. “You’re getting soft.”

“He reminds me of Bucky.”

Tony choked. “Excuse me?”

Steve shrugged. “If Bucky died and came back with ghost powers, he’d absolutely punch me in the face for fun.”

“…Okay, yeah, that tracks.”

And thus began the weird, wonderful, mildly catastrophic journey of Danny Fenton, ghost boy, menace to the Avengers, and accidental best friend to Captain America, who still rubbed his jaw now and then, remembering the punch that nearly knocked out a super-soldier’s tooth.

[luveline]

Sorry if you’ve done this already, but if you’re taking Spencer Reid requests I would love to see one where his wife is struggling with morning sickness and he takes care of her. He has all the medical facts on deck and is the sweetest. 😊

“Morning sickness is super common.” A hand on your back. “It’s not known what the cause is, but they think it has something to do with low blood sugar.” He rubs your shoulder. Fingers spread, a slow side to side. “Because your hormones are changing rapidly, the body isn’t as efficient in processing your blood sugar.“ 

“Spence,” you say, breathing hard with your face in a toilet bowl, “that doesn’t make me feel any better.” 

“What about if I told you that it’s worse with twins?” 

It’s interesting.

You’re not having the most exciting of pregnancies. Some people get pregnant and feel that connection to the baby instantly, their foetus the size of a strawberry and somehow a whole world. 

So far yours just makes you sick. “I think there’s something wrong with me.” 

“Probably not.” 

Spencer hoists you back from the bowl. He clambers off of his knees to close the lid, flush, and turn to the sink where he washes his hands. You put a hand on the lid, not so sure you’re finished throwing up, but Spencer tends to know. He’s a good guess. 

“Here, dove,” he says softly, offering a face towel wet with warm water. 

He tried to wipe your face down himself last time and you couldn’t hide how much you didn’t want him to do that. He’s kind, and the gesture is sweet, but you’re feeling less human than ever lately. An in depth analysis of your face isn’t in the books for him. 

You hold the towel in both hands and drop your head. 

“Let me help you up.” 

“I’m gonna just live here, actually.”

“I don’t think so. You’re too cute to live on the floor,” Spencer says, not even slightly ironic, “you have to live in bed like every other adorable woman.” 

“I don’t feel adorable.” 

“You wouldn’t. Your organs are moving and your skin is stretching, and the valves in your veins are becoming fatigued.” 

“Awesome.” 

Spencer holds both arms out to you and helps you stand. Your head pulses, forcing you to rest your head against Spencer’s arm for a few seconds while you come around properly. 

“You’ve never been this beautiful, though,” Spencer says softly, “you really do glow.” 

“Thanks,” you say, your laugh muffled in his shirt. 

“It’s because your blood flow has increased all over your body. Maybe. It’s probably just because you’re you and you’re having our baby and…” Spencer lets his head drop gently atop your own. “You know. You’re the loveliest woman I’ve ever met.”

“Even when I’m sick as a dog?” you ask. 

“At all times… you know what I said earlier, about your blood flow? You know what else that causes?” 

You bring your arms up to curl them protectively behind his neck. He takes your waist. “What?” you ask his neck. 

“Your heart doubles in size.” 

“That happened when I met you.” 

“I think being pregnant has made you flirt more,” Spencer says fondly. 

“Nope. Just a side effect of all these certified Reid facts.” You know what he’s doing, distracting you from your nausea with other things. It’s working slowly, and you appreciate the effort. You might not feel a big connection yet to your baby, but you never feel alone.  

[butterflybuckethat]

Tiny Red Dress

Notes: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Fem!Reader (1.5k words)

(feel free to make requests! I need all the help I can get)

Summary: Jake asks for your help to make a girl jealous.

Warnings: None

🦋 Masterlist 🦋 Part II

Hangman needed something from you. He’d asked favors from you before—covering shifts, running errands, etc.—but none specifically because you were a woman. 

“You’re a girl, right?” He asked the morning after a particularly rough night at the Hard Deck. 

“Bad start, Seresin.” You had just left the locker room, hair damp and soaking into your t-shirt. He waited for you, still in his flight suit with his hair tousled from the helmet. There was no denying Jake was attractive, especially with his cheeks a little sunburnt. It sometimes felt as if he was specifically put on this Earth to test you, your own personal chiseled red apple. 

“Look, PJ” he started and extinguished all your goodwill. 

PJ was a call sign given to you during a particularly awkward game of 2 truths 1 lie when you revealed that after getting your pilot’s license as a teenager, you managed to swindle a bunch of rich people to pay you boatloads to fly them around California. It was supposed to stand for Private Jet but when he said it, you knew he meant Plain Jane. You heard him joke about it to the guys. 

You stepped around him, making your escape down the long hallway. But he followed, singing some sob story about some poor girl who wanted nothing to do with him after a one night stand. 

“Maybe you just weren’t that good,” you called behind your shoulder. 

He barely acknowledged your retort except for the smirk you could clearly hear in his voice, “Oh, it was good.”

“And you just want me to bear witness?” You were leaning against your car now, in the parking lot which he had followed you to.

“Wow, PJ. I didn’t realize you were into that sort of thing.”

“I just thought you needed reliable back-up with the guys since your “unbelievable” prowess is genuinely un-believable.”

He boxed you in, hands at either side of you, with that cocky smile still plastered on his face, “I want you to help me make her jealous.”

—

“Ha!” You practically snorted as you yanked your car door open forcing him back in the process. “Good one.”

But he blocked you from closing it, arms stretched wide. Jake was close enough now that you could smell his citrus aftershave mixed with jet engine fuel. “I’m serious.”

Your lips parted in surprise. 

“I asked Phoenix, but she wanted nothing to do with this.”

Every time you let him open the door a crack, he ended up slamming it in your face. 

“I’ll make it worth your while.” His tone was practically salacious. You understood how this worked on people, and even though you knew better something in you wanted to keep playing with him. Not that you had much of a choice. 

“How’s that?”

“You’ll get the male attention I’m sure you’ve been sorely lacking.”

“Bye, Jake!” You tried pulling your door shut but he prevented you, again. 

“Wait, wait!” He sighed, “Come on, I’ll do anything.”

You cocked a brow, “You handy with a drill?”

The following evening you received a text from Hangman: meet me at the bar in an hour. 

And then another immediately following: wear something hot. 

You had half a mind to show up in your sweats but as you looked around your newly bought condo with all your artwork and photographs sitting in their frames against the wall, you thought better of it. You wanted that gallery wall so badly and had been collecting the pieces for it for years but it was such an undertaking to actually execute. But now, you could just get idiot to do it for you.

.

The Hard Deck was in full swing when Hangman arrived, making a beeline for the pool tables in the back corner where Rooster and Coyote were mid game. 

It was still early, he arrived about twenty minutes before you were supposed to, but Daniela was already there, commanding the bar. 

It wasn’t often that Jake wanted more from his hook-ups but she was smoking hot and they had a great time together and it’s not like he wanted more more… She didn’t flat out refuse him either, just kind of dismissed him, and he needed a way to regain some of the power. 

He wouldn’t have asked you if he had any other options. It’s not that he thought less of you per se, he had just never really thought of you like that at all. You were one of his teammates, nothing more. 

Jake forced himself to stop staring at Daniela, focusing instead on heckling Rooster. He liked Daniela, maybe. He liked the way she seemed to suck up all the attention in the room, how wonderful it felt when she chose to direct it towards him, and did he mention the sex was really good?

“Did you get Phoenix to go along with your plan?” Bob asked, sipping around the paper umbrella in his drink. 

“No,” Jake sniffed. “I got PJ.”

The guys exchanged a look, one that he couldn’t decipher. So, never one to shy away from confrontation, he asked them. 

“Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

Jake rolled his eyes; Rooster was always so sincere. “Ready for what?”

“I don’t know…”

“That.” Jake followed Bob’s gaze to find you in the tiniest red dress he had ever seen and he could’ve sworn his heart stopped. 

.

You took an acting class in college and could totally do this. You straightened your spine, refrained from pulling on the hem of the dress that had been in the back of your closet for god knows how long, and mouthed “is that her?” to Jake across the bar. 

He and the guys stood in a line staring at you, mouths agape, nodding. You couldn’t help the thrill that ran through you. 

Getting into character, you flipped your hair and slipped through the crowd that seemed to gather around this girl and sat next to her at the bar. Even Penny did a double take at the sight of you. 

You needed a way to get this girl to notice you and took the opportunity when Penny set down a bright red drink in front of her. 

You leaned forward slightly, pointing at it with the brightest most genuine smile you could muster, “That looks so good! What is it?”

“A Dirty Shirley!” She said and slid it in front of you to try. You’d had one before of course but took a sip anyways and exuberantly asked for one also. 

When you spun on your stool, you saw the boys in the exact same position and gestured for Hangman to get his ass over to you already. You wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible. And he did, within three strides he was all over you. 

You spread your thighs, leaning back against the bar, and pulled him by the shirt between them—only enjoying his wide-eyed look a little bit. 

“Hi,” he breathed, hand ghosting over the bare space above your knee before you pushed it down to your skin. 

“Did you miss me?”

.

Jake could feel his palms sweat but didn’t want to take his hands off you. For a guy who usually had too much to say, he sure couldn’t think of anything now. You were waiting for his response. “Yeah, of course,” he said but it came out all weird. 

How did he not know? How did he not see it? See you?

He needed to say something. “You’re—“

“Meet me in the bathroom,” you said, loud enough Daniela to hear you. Shit, Daniela. But then you scooted around him, body pressed right up to his, and she completely disappeared again. He followed you to the dark hallway that led to the restrooms in a trance. 

“That oughta do it.” You said, checking your phone with complete indifference. 

“Y/N,” he spoke softly. “I—“

“Yeah, you’re welcome.” You peeked at your phone again. “Okay, Bob says she’s looking in our direction.” 

Jake couldn’t help but smile at how giddy you looked outlining the next steps of your plan. 

“—then just say something like…” You made your voice all deep in imitation of him, “‘wouldn’t be fair cause I would just be thinking of you’ or whatever dumb shit you say.”

He laughed. 

“You ready?” You asked. 

He tried to think of a way to get you to stay, to let him put his hands on your waist, “Wait, how are you getting home?”

You waved him off, “I drove,” and he had no choice but to follow you back out into the crowd. 

You were stomping a bit, in a huff, and spun like a swivel back at him. 

“Bastard!” You shrieked and slapped him, hard. When the bar went quiet, you winked whispering that you would see him at your place tomorrow. And he, like the rest of the Hard Deck, watched you leave. 

The bar returned to normal but he was still watching the door. 

Seemingly sick of waiting, Daniela came up to him first. “Hey, Jakey.”

“Hey.” He responded. 

Daniela directed him to look at her with her perfectly manicured fingernail. “Do you want to come home with me, baby?”

And, to his own surprise, he really didn’t. 

Part II