mostholystuffz

[mostholystuffz]

yandere diluc is pathetic as hell omg😭😭 imagine his darling goes on hunger strike and he force feeds her and he’s just like “i knowwwww☹️☹️☹️just one more bite pls😔😔” whole time she’s screaming and crying

Y'all wanna hunger strike Diluc so fucking bad 😭 😭 this is my third ask about this same thing?? I'mma do it cause you whores are desperate though.

Yandere! Diluc x Fem! Reader

Forced Marriage AU

TW: 18+ MDNI(!!!!),Yandere, Starvation (!!!), Forced Feeding (!!!), Suffocation (!!!)

The sight of a full plate was one Diluc has grown scarily accustomed to in the passing weeks. Maybe a bite or two of food taken, just to sate him, and you'd sit in silence for the rest of the meal. The already quiet hour was even more deafeningly silent when it lacked the clatter of your cutlery, the sounds of your chewing. It was so quiet that even across the long, mahogany table, Diluc could hear the way the liquid slid down your throat with each big sip of the wine you took.

With your glass empty, you'd wipe your upper lip with a napkin, then remain stationary for the rest of the meal.

You, who seldom even spoke to the man, already made him walk in eggshells around you. Your temper was like a furnace, crackling and fuming, just waiting for the chance to burn him. So like a lot of flames, he kept his distance, and didn't speak when he noticed this new and terrifying habit blossoming.

Maybe you didn't like the food? He'd question himself. His muse, his desire, his flame, you were, you filled his thoughts even out of his line of sight. That fiery gaze of yours is why he loved you so damn much, the hatred in your eyes fueling a masochistic part of his brain. So that's why he was thinking of you now. Even though work was supposed to be the only thing keeping his attention, you still found a way to cloud his mind. The food wasn't up to your standards. That's why you weren't eating it. That had to be.

The next meal you were served was your favorite. Diluc watched with desperate eyes as yours stayed on your plate. He himself didn't even touch his own food, waiting for you to take the first bite. And you did. A sense of triumph and relief washed over him, he felt his shoulders finally relax as a weight lifted off of them, and even though you cared so little for his emotions, he felt a smile growing on his face.

But, soon enough your little mouse-like bites stopped. Your fork is placed back onto the table. You sipped down the wine in your glass until it ran empty. Your plate is still full.

From the looks of it, you'd only picked and eaten your favorite parts. A good start, but not nearly enough for you. Not nearly enough nourishment. Were you torturing him? You had to be. You didn't look smug at his sorrow, not happy, you didn't even look like you noticed his presence.

“Please…eat some more,” he hummed with a weak, pleading smile forcing its way onto his face. This was the first time he'd heard his voice bellowing through the dining room in…well, he couldn't remember.

It was clear that the unfamiliar sound startled you too. You met his gaze, something you hadn't truly done in months, and he felt his cheeks flush hot, like a schoolboy in front of his first crush. Just the sight of you was enough to make him almost forget what he's ordered you to do, until you spoke with that sweet, but venomous voice.

“I'm not hungry,”

Three words sending a stab of pain through his chest. Diluc felt his lips quiver at your statement. A lie if he'd ever heard one. You had to have been aware that Diluc constantly kept track of your meals. Even the ones you didn't share with him. How much you are, what you had for a snack, the amount of water you consumed. Diluc knew it all. As your husband, it was his job to know it all, and he knew that you should be starving.

“Just a few more bites,” he hummed, “It was made special for you,”

A shake of your head had him reeling, but he held his composure, though he could feel the metal fork squeezed tight in his fist growing noticeably warmer, almost burning hot.

“It's been days, you must be starving,” he sighed, exasperated.

“I'm not,”

Diluc loves you. He truly does. His heart, his soul, his eternal flame. And he knows that his love is there to keep you completely safe. You, how naive you are, to think that Diluc would ever let any harm come to you, even at the hands of yourself. His most precious person. The one he loves more than anything riches, more than himself.

It shouldn't be a surprise when he stands from the table and walks to your side. You know better than to run away, instead you sit stiffly in your chair, suddenly aware of how firm the wood of it is, like your mind is trying to focus on anything except the way you can feel his body heat as he kneels next to you. The way he smells like burnt cinnamon and you can hear his breathing, slightly heavier than normal.

When you finally do meet his gaze again, you watch his cheeks flush that red color once more, an affect you have on him that even you aren't aware of. Instead you notice the how his eyes are glossed over, like one blink will bring tears, and how his hand is gripping a fork ever so tightly. If you weren't acutely aware of how demented his obsession was with you, you'd think that he was planning to impale that fork right into your chest.

Diluc's shaking had used his utensils to pick up a scoop of your dinner, then holds it up to your lips. You can smell the savory scent hitting your nostrils, instinctively making your stomach rumble ferociously, practically proving his point, but you keep your lips sealed tight.

Diluc knows what's best for you, even if you yourself don't. He knows that he has to protect you, even if that means hurting you himself. The pain he brings you, is also to keep you safe. That's what he tells himself as he reaches upwards and squeezed your cheeks, his large hand nearly engulfing your face and still noticeably hot from the recent usage of his vision.

Your words are a muffled mess as you try to pull away and resist his touch, but you're nothing compared to his enormous strength. To the way the fingers sinking into the plump fat of your cheeks being pressed together so firmly forces your lips open despite your protest. He does his best to force the food past the entrance of your lips.

You want to spit, but it seems Diluc has already accounted for such actions. That same hand is now pressed over your mouth, sealing your lips shut…and the other closes your nose. Your eyes widen as you realize that you're unable to breath, thrashing in his hold that seems unwavering. You expect to see malice in his eyes, sadistic excitement watching you struggle and thrash. But all you see are tears. Cascading down his cheeks like a waterfall, salty wet tears drip down onto you. You'd be angry at the pitiful sight, if not for the lack of oxygen.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” he whines over and over like a mantra. His meek apologies are a foil to the aggressive nature of his hands that you're clawing at with all your waning strength.

So you do as he wants. You chew. Then swallow. Noisily, so he can hear. Then he releases you, pulling his hands back like you're the one who's burned him. Sputtering and coughing, you glare at him, still apologizing to the point where the expression has lost its meaning. Not that you ever took what he said seriously.

“Please, just finish your food,” he mutters. Using the back of his hand to wipe away a stray tear. But there's a look in his eyes, regret of course, but also the determination that shows that if you don't do as he says, he'll repeat the same actions again.

[mostholystuffz]

hello i apologize if this is a lot but i'd love to req a fic w/ zoro, law, ace, sanji where reader is normally mature but has cuteness aggression to animals, & when she started dating them, she does it to the boys too- suddenly clinging onto them while aggressively peppering their faces w/ kisses or squeezing their cheeks & just being so overly proud of them & showering them w/ compliments, it can be a common occurrence or it takes the boys by surprise lol you decide ^o^

also, thank u for ur service to the op community on tumblr 🫡 the quality & frequency of ur fics are impressive, i always look forward to ur updates♡

Clingy Combat Cuddles

characters: zoro, sanji, law, ace (x fem!reader) + chopper (platonic but with zoro too)

a/n: they're kinda short because I didn't have many ideas, so I added chopper (ofc it's platonic tho + it has zoro in it!)

words count: around 0.4k - 0.6k each

tags: fluff, humor, cuteness aggression, established relationship (except for chopper ofc)

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

── .✦ Zoro:

The deck of the Sunny is peaceful. The sun is warm. The sea is calm. A perfect day.

And Zoro has just fought a sea king.

You're watching from the side, arms crossed, lips pressed together, trying to stay cool and composed. Like always.

But Zoro walks past you, shirt still off, a little cut on his cheek, sword resting against his shoulder and he scowls at the deck like it personally offended him.

That’s it.

That’s the moment.

Your brain breaks.

You lunge at him without warning “Zoro!”

He turns his head, barely reacting in time before you wrap your arms around his neck, jumping slightly so you can hang off him, nuzzling your face into the side of his jaw.

“YOU WERE SO COOL!! You chopped that thing like shing shing BAM! My big strong grumpy samurai baby!”

He stiffens “Oi! What the—”

You grab his face between both hands, squishing his cheeks together like dough.

“Look at this face! So serious! So brave! So slicey! UGH!!”

You start kissing his cheeks, nose, forehead, even his frown line like you're on a mission.

Zoro is frozen. Arms hanging in the air like he doesn’t know what to do with them.

“…Did you hit your head?” he finally mutters.

“No!” you say, still kissing him “I just... I have a thing!”

“A thing?”

“Yes! I get aggressive when things are too cute or too cool or too brave! Like when Chopper does his little dance or when cats squish into boxes—and now you!”

He gives you a blank look “So… you're calling me cute?”

“No,” you say seriously “I’m calling you the cutest deadly thing I’ve ever seen and I want to eat your face in the most loving way possible.”

“...What.”

A few feet away, the rest of the crew is watching like it’s a new show.

Luffy’s grinning, sitting on the railing “He’s gonna explode.”

Usopp is pale “I’ve never seen her like that. That’s terrifying.”

Sanji’s cigarette hangs from his lip, forgotten “He doesn’t deserve that level of affection, but damn if I’m not jealous.”

Robin chuckles “So, this is what she’s like when the mask slips. Fascinating.”

Back to Zoro who now has you hanging off his front, kissing under his chin while mumbling things like “my battle bear” and “look at this terrifying angel”.

He finally puts a hand on your back, awkwardly “…You’re seriously not joking.”

“Nope,” you chirp, grinning like a lunatic “I’m so proud of you I might die. Look at you! Protecting everyone without hesitation. You’re amazing.”

He stares at you. Then down at his swords. Then at the deck.

“I just killed a sea king.”

“And it was HOT.”

Zoro groans and hides his face behind your shoulder.

Later on you’re sitting on the grass, your head in his lap, Zoro finally having managed to drag you somewhere quieter. Sort of.

He’s sharpening his swords, jaw set, pretending he’s not enjoying the way you keep sneaking kisses to his thigh.

“You done acting weird?”

“Nope,” you say, immediately reaching up to pinch his cheek again “You’re mine now. This is the price.”

Zoro sighs, annoyed.

But he doesn’t move your hand.

Instead, he glances down, and there’s a tiny hint of a smirk at the corner of his lips.

“You better not do this in front of enemies.”

“No promises.”

“…Tch.”

You grin and tug him down for another forehead kiss.

And this time, he lets you.

── .✦ Sanji:

You’ve been good today. Calm. Collected. You kept your hands to yourself through breakfast, through a minor skirmish with Marines, and even through Sanji’s dramatic backflip dodge while holding two plates of soup.

But now… Now he’s plating dessert.

He hums a little as he swirls whipped cream into perfect little peaks.

His hair falls over his eye just a bit, and there's flour on his cheek.

You try. You really try.

But no... You’re losing it.

“Sanji—” you say, voice tight.

He turns with a warm smile “Yes, my love?”

You’re already marching toward him.

“Oh no,” he says, eyes wide with anticipation “Is it time?”

“It’s time.”

You slam into him like a heat-seeking missile, arms wrapping tight around his middle as you squish your cheek against his chest.

“TOO PERFECT. TOO BEAUTIFUL. TOO TALENTED” you shout into his shirt.

Sanji laughs and drops the whipped cream just in time to catch you with both arms.

“Mon dieu, you’re doing it again. You’re going to kill me with affection.”

You grab his face “GOOD. DIE WITH LOVE.”

You start smothering him in kisses: forehead, cheeks, chin, nose, ears, rapid-fire smooches with increasing intensity.

Sanji nearly melts.

“Chérie, please, my heart can only take so much—”

“Look at you!” you cry, squeezing his cheeks “Your stupid little smile and your perfect food and your gentleman act! You’re SO ANNOYINGLY AMAZING!”

He practically purrs “Say that again.”

“You’re the most beautiful, talented, wonderful man in the world and I want to chew your stupid perfect face like a mochi bun.”

He gasps softly “Marry me.”

“I might do.”

“Then we have to arrange it all.”

Later that evening, you’re sitting peacefully on a chair, flipping through a book.

Sanji walks past you carrying a tray of tea and pauses.

He glances over his shoulder.

You glance up.

There’s flour on his sleeve.

His shirt is rolled up to the elbow.

He’s humming again.

You’re holding it together, but barely.

He smirks “You okay, mon amour?”

You stare.

He walks closer “You’re looking at me like I’m a chocolate cake with legs.”

You slam the book shut and launch up, but before you can pounce, he spreads his arms wide like an invitation.

“Come here, ma chérie. Ruin me.”

You leap into his embrace and he spins you around, laughing as you kiss his face over and over and over.

“You’re shameless!” you giggle.

“I’m in love,” he says dramatically “If your kisses were a drug, I’d be long dead.”

“I will squish your cheeks into dumplings and feed them to seagulls.”

“Please do.”

“You’re too pretty, it’s unfair.”

“I’ll ugly it up a little. Give me a day.”

“NO! I love your face, I’d wear it like a scarf if I could.”

He fake-swoons “Do it. Take it. I’m yours.”

“Is this… normal now?” Zoro mutters as he watches you pin Sanji against the wall of the kitchen, attacking him with affectionate nibbles and kisses while he happily takes it, hands holding your waist like he’s never been more at peace.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Nami says, sipping her drink “They’re like this almost every day.”

Brook hums “Yohoho! True love is terrifying.”

Robin smiles behind her book “At least it’s harmless. Though, she did try to bite his nose once.”

“She did bite my nose,” Sanji calls out helpfully “It was magnificent.”

Zoro turns away, muttering, “Get a room.”

“We have a room!” Sanji replies “We’re just taking the scenic route!”

Hours later, you’re snuggled on the couch in the kitchen, your head on Sanji’s lap, while he runs his fingers through your hair.

“You good now, love?” he asks gently.

You sigh “I think I emptied the tank.”

He leans down and kisses your forehead “You can refill it tomorrow. I’ll be ready.”

You open one eye “You really don’t mind when I get like that?”

He smiles “Mon amour… I live for it.”

You smile too “You’re gonna regret saying that.”

“I hope I do,” he says “Over and over again.”

── .✦ Law:

Law is reviewing maps. His fingers tap against the table in a steady rhythm, eyes darting from note to note. His crew has just docked at a remote island, nothing dramatic today. Just calm preparation.

You're leaning against the wall, watching him.

He’s focused. Serious. In control.

You normally admire that about him.

But now?

It's making you suffer... a lot.

His eyebrows furrow slightly. He mumbles something about currents and wind speeds. His lips move with precision. His fingers glide over the paper and...

... and that’s it.

You break.

“Law” you say, voice suspiciously innocent.

He hums without looking up “Mm?”

You walk up behind him slowly. Too slowly. His head lifts just slightly, eyes flicking toward you, narrowing.

“…What are you doing?” he asks flatly.

You don’t answer.

You leap onto him from behind.

“AHHH—”

He jolts forward a little as your arms wrap tight around his neck, your face burying in the side of his head.

“YOU’RE SO SMART. SO FOCUSED. I WANNA BITE YOUR BRAIN THROUGH YOUR SKULL—IN A LOVING WAY!”

“WHAT—?! Y/N—what are you—”

You pull back only to grab his face and start kissing it in a fury. Forehead. Nose. Cheek. Jaw. Temple. Eyelid. Repeat.

“SO! SMART! AND! SEXY! AND! SERIOUS!”

“Are you having some kind of episode?” Law says, voice strangled.

“Yes,” you gasp “It’s called cuteness aggression and you’re the disease.”

Minutes later, Law is leaning back in his desk chair, defeated, while you sit on his lap like an overjoyed little goblin, hands on his cheeks, staring at him lovingly.

“You’re not supposed to be like this” he mutters.

“Like what?” you blink innocently.

“You’re usually calm. Rational. Controlled.”

“I lied,” you say sweetly “That was just the bait phase. This is my final form.”

Law sighs and covers his eyes with one hand “I can’t do diagnostics like this.”

“Sure you can,” you whisper, kissing his nose again “You just need to adjust to your new life. With me on your lap. Forever.”

He mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like “help”.

“Too late,” you say “I’ve chosen you.”

“You’re insane.”

“And you’re perfect. Look at this little line between your eyebrows. It’s my favorite. Can I kiss it?”

“No.”

You kiss it anyway.

He tries to work. He really does.

You're sitting nearby. Quiet. Reading. Acting like a normal person again.

Then Law says something offhanded, like, “The odds of ambush are low, but possible.”

You immediately drop the book.

You spin in your seat.

“Low but possible? SO. ARE. YOU. That’s you. You’re a low-chance rare-drop man. A mythic legendary boyfriend. I’M GOING TO KISS YOUR EARS.”

“Please do not kiss my ears.”

You pounce again “TOO LATE!”

You squeeze his face gently, tilt it like he’s a confused doll, and begin your assault.

He groans “This is emotional terrorism.”

“You love it.”

“…I don’t hate it.”

Later that night, you’re laying together in his quarters, the world quiet, your head on his chest. He’s stroking your back slowly, finally calm again.

“You’re weird” he murmurs.

“Yup.”

“I liked you better when you were pretending to be emotionally stable.”

You smile into his shirt “Liar.”

“…Yeah,” he mutters “I am.”

You lift your head just enough to look him in the eye “Do you want me to stop?”

He hesitates.

Then, softly “…No.”

You grin “Good. Because I was going to keep doing it anyway.”

He presses a kiss to your hair “Of course you were.”

── .✦ Ace:

Ace drops out of the sky like a meteor, lands on the deck with a dramatic crouch, and tosses a flaming Marine cannon overboard like it’s a beach ball.

Everyone cheers.

You’re already running toward him.

He stands up, beaming, shirt half open, flames still curling off his shoulders.

You throw your arms around him like a tackle.

“BABY!! YOU LIVING INCINERATOR! MY FLAMING HERO!!”

He laughs, wrapping you up tight “I missed you too, firecracker!”

You grab his cheeks.

“I am going to smooch you so hard your freckles become stars.”

“PLEASE DO.”

You slam kiss after kiss to his face, and he laughs through all of it “Wait—no, don’t stop, I’m just surprised! You’re usually the calm one!”

“That version of me is dead,” you say seriously “You dropkicked a cannon midair. I’m going feral.”

“Finally!” he cheers “Join me in chaos!!”

You bite his cheek lightly.

He gasps “I’m in love.”

The rest of the crew watches you both clinging to each other like human Velcro, nuzzling and giggling and attacking each other with affection.

“It’s like watching two puppies roll down a hill” Marco mutters.

Thatch wipes a tear “Beautiful. Gross. But beautiful.”

Ace is now spinning you in a circle while you repeatedly yell, “YOU’RE SO STUPIDLY HOT, IT MAKES ME ANGRY.”

“YEAH?! GOOD! I WANNA BE HOT FOR YOU FOREVER!”

“STOP SMILING LIKE THAT YOU HANDSOME PIECE OF SUNSHINE!”

“I CAN’T, YOU’RE TOO CUTE WHEN YOU YELL.”

Later, Ace plops down beside you, sweaty and soot-streaked after another skirmish. He opens his arms wide.

“Do your thing” he says.

You blink “What thing?”

He grins “You know. That thing. The... 'aggressive cuddles and I-want-to-chew-your-face' thing.”

“Ohhh, you want the full package?”

“Yes please.”

You tackle him to the ground instantly.

“MY BEAUTIFUL DUMB IDIOT. MY FLAMING HOT DORK. MY BRAVE EXPLOSION HUSBAND.”

You kiss his forehead.

Then both cheeks.

Then his jaw.

Then you pause.

“You smell like smoke and sea salt.”

“Romantic, huh?”

“You smell like danger and I love it.”

“I love you.”

You pause again “Ew. That was corny.”

“You just licked my face like a cat two minutes ago.”

“Fair.”

At night, lying in a hammock together, he holds you tight against his chest. The wind is quiet. The sea gentle.

He brushes his fingers through your hair.

“You really don’t get embarrassed?” he whispers.

“Not when it comes to you” you murmur back.

“Even when you call me a ‘beautiful flaming dumbass’ in public?”

“Especially then.”

He grins into your hair.

“I like this side of you” he says.

You look up “You mean the clingy one that kisses your nose in front of your whole crew?”

“No,” he replies softly “The one that doesn’t hold back.”

You smile.

“Then you’re stuck with me.”

Ace kisses your forehead.

“Good. Because I’d set the world on fire before I let you go.”

── .✦ Chopper (+ Zoro):

“Okay, next patient,” Chopper says proudly, flipping his clipboard “Let’s see Y/N, it’s just your check-up!”

You sit on the exam table swinging your legs “Yup! I’m ready, Doctor Tiny Genius.”

“I told you not to call me that” he mutters, hiding his flustered face behind the clipboard.

You lean down and whisper, “But you are a tiny genius.”

“Stop iiiit,” he whines, blushing, “I’m just doing my job!”

You watch him waddle around the room with his little doctor coat and stethoscope.

He’s so smol. So serious. So determined.

You can’t hold it.

“Chopper,” you whisper “Come closer.”

He looks up, confused “Huh? Why?”

“Come. Closer.”

“Are you okay—?”

You snatch him right off the ground and CRADLE him in your arms.

“TOO CUTE. TOO KIND. TOO FLUFFY. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH I’M GONNA EXPLODE.”

“W-WHA—?!” Chopper’s face is glowing red “W-WAIT! I—I’m your doctor—!”

You rub your cheek against his fuzzy face “You are my doctor AND my emotional support reindeer. Let me love you.”

“You’re squishing my antlers—!”

“They are precious and I would die for them.”

Chopper flails, but doesn’t really try to escape. He’s used to this. You do this at least once a week.

“I’m gonna tell Zoro!” he threatens, kicking gently.

“Zoro loves it. He thinks you’re cute too.”

Zoro is leaning against the doorframe, watching the scene unfold.

You cradling Chopper like a plush toy while Chopper pretends to be mad but actually leaning into your touch.

Zoro sighs... and smile.

“You’re enabling her” Chopper says accusingly.

Zoro shrugs “You are adorable.”

“Not you too!” Chopper squeaks.

You smirk “See? I told you.”

Zoro walks over and gently ruffles Chopper’s hat “Deal with it, doc. She only does this to her favorite people.”

Chopper freezes. Blinks. Looks between you and Zoro.

“R-Really?”

You nod and boop his nose “Only the elite get aggressively snuggled.”

He goes completely red, squeaks, and buries his face in your shoulder.

“Okay... but just for five more seconds.”

You squeeze him tighter “Ten.”

Later, as you finally let Chopper go, he adjusts his little coat and clears his throat.

“I’m still your doctor” he says sternly.

“Of course, Doctor Cutie.”

“Don’t call me that! …I mean, you can, but—wait, no, don’t make it a thing!”

Zoro pats his head on the way out “Too late.”

You lean over and whisper to Zoro “I’m gonna dress him up as a little surgeon plush next time.”

Zoro smirks “I’ll hold him down.”

[mostholystuffz]

ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤTHE SUN'S ONLY FOR YOUㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ PAIRING : Clark Kent x Fem Reader

☆⁠ HEADCANON : How Would He Be When He's Obsessed?

☆⁠ NOTES : English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

It starts soft. Too soft.

Clark notices you like anyone would notice sunlight on their skin: slowly, then all at once. You work in the same building—maybe a reporter, maybe a researcher, maybe just someone who passes by his desk with a stack of files and a tired smile—but it’s enough. He notices.

He doesn’t mean to. But you said “thank you” once and looked him in the eye. And that was it. Your voice is polite. Gentle. But not weak. You speak with intention. Your laugh makes the world tilt just slightly to the left. The first time he heard it, he almost tripped on air.

Clark tells himself it’s admiration. A crush. Something harmless.

It spirals when you’re kind to him.

You remember his coffee order once, and it carves a space inside him he didn’t know existed. You ask how his day was, and he forgets how to lie. Because how does he say, "I spent last night thinking about what you sound like when you're scared, when you're sad, when you're in love"?

He listens. Oh, God, he listens. With superhearing, he doesn’t even try to. He just starts tuning in to the frequency of your life. Your laugh. Your breath. Your voice on the phone late at night. The music you hum in the elevator. The way you talk in your sleep—because yes, Clark has floated by your window before, just to be sure you’re safe.

(It’s just a habit now. No harm in checking, right?)

He gets jealous. And you haven’t even touched him yet.

You talk to other people. Smile at them. Laugh. Flirt. Clark doesn’t say anything, of course—he’s not that kind of guy. But inside? He’s ice. Still. Watching. He doesn’t blink.

You date someone once. A nice guy. Decent. Human. Clark hears your conversations, every awkward moment, every kiss, every sigh. He listens to the way your voice never quite softens for them the way it does for him.

The day you cry over that guy? Clark almost thanks him. Because now he gets to be there. Now you need him. And he’ll never let you go again.

He makes it look like fate.

Little things. Helping you carry things. “Accidentally” bumping into you. Being wherever you are—at the café, the library, the store. You laugh and say, “Small world.” He smiles and says, “Yeah,” like he didn’t track your location ten minutes ago with his heat vision on low.

He wants you to love him slowly. Not because he couldn’t have you fast—because he could, and that’s the part he hates the most. He could rip the sky open and make you his. But he wants you to choose him.

So he watches. Protects. Waits. Waits for you to see him the way he sees you.

But time wears patience thin.

The first time you kiss him, you don’t know you’re sealing your fate.

It’s soft. Sweet. Maybe a thank-you. Maybe a moment of weakness. Maybe you’re just lonely.

But to Clark? That kiss is a vow. You chose him. You picked him. That means you're his. It’s not obsession if it’s mutual, right?

He starts pulling away from the world after that. Less Superman, more Clark. He wants to be around you. Wants to walk you home. Cook for you. Tuck your hair behind your ear and hear you whisper his name like it’s a secret.

He’s not possessive. He’s protective. That’s what he tells himself. And if he breaks someone’s arm for touching you without permission? Well… shouldn’t they have known better?

He’s terrifying in love.

You don’t see it until it’s too late.

The little things. The way your ex got fired suddenly. The way people who hurt you seem to vanish into thin air. The way he always shows up the second you need him—even before you call.

The way he knows you’re lying when you say “I’m fine.” Because he heard your heartbeat skip.

The way he says your name. Like it’s something holy. Something he’ll never give up.

And when you finally ask, trembling, “What would you do for me?”—he doesn’t blink.

Clark leans in, kisses your knuckles, and says with terrifying softness:

“Anything, sweetheart. Anything. Just say the word.”

You are the sun now.

And if anyone dares try to take you away?

They’ll learn the hard way:

Not even God can stop Superman when he’s in love.

It’s when you say “I love you” that everything breaks.

You don’t even mean it the way he hears it.

Maybe you’re drunk. Maybe you’re tired. Maybe it slips out after a long day and a comforting hug. “Love you,” you mumble, all warmth and sleepy breath. You might not even remember it the next day.

But he remembers.

Clark feels it like a goddamn explosion behind his ribs. Time stops. Galaxies shift. Planets burn. Because you love him. You love him.

And suddenly, he’s free.

Free to take what’s his.

It gets worse after that.

He’s around more. Always smiling. Always gentle. But there’s something behind his eyes now—too intense, too still.

He’s memorized your schedule. Your favorite mug. The lotion you use. The scent of your shampoo. He makes you breakfast before you ask. Washes your sheets before you notice. He moves like he lives here now. You blink and his toothbrush is next to yours.

He doesn’t need an invitation. He belongs.

You let him stay over once after a long night. He never leaves after that.

It’s subtle. But it’s everywhere.

Your phone stops buzzing as much. Friends cancel. Coworkers act weird. The guy who always flirted with you suddenly avoids eye contact like you’re radioactive. You ask Clark if he’s noticed anything strange.

He kisses your temple and murmurs, “No, sweetheart. People are just finally respecting you.”

You want to believe him. He’s so soft with you. So good. He kisses like he’s never known violence. Touches you like you’re porcelain. Wraps you in his arms like you’re the only thing keeping him from breaking.

But when he hugs you, he doesn’t let go. Not for a long time.

He doesn’t want you to lie.

That’s the scary part.

He knows when your heart skips. When your voice shakes. When you smile too politely. He knows when you're scared—and it hurts him. It crushes him.

He never yells. Never raises a hand. But he’ll stand too close. Look too hard. Say things like, “You know you can tell me anything, right?” with that painfully calm voice.

You can’t lie to him. Not anymore.

Because even if he wouldn’t hurt you, he might hurt someone else. Without blinking. Without guilt.

You try to leave once.

Maybe not forever. Maybe just for space. A break. A weekend away. You tell him, “I just need time.”

Clark goes quiet. Nods. Kisses your forehead.

And then the storm hits.

Your bus crashes. The roads flood. Your hotel burns down. Everything goes wrong. And when you finally make it home, soaked and shaking, he’s waiting on your couch like he knew.

Arms wide. Smile soft.

“I told you it wasn’t safe without me.”

You collapse into his chest because you're cold, tired, and terrified—and that’s when you feel it.

The ring box in his pocket.

You say yes. Because you’re scared to say no.

The proposal is private. Sweet. Romantic. The kind of thing you always thought you’d want. He kneels. Holds your hand like it’s a lifeline.

And when you whisper “yes,” he exhales like he’s finally allowed to breathe.

But deep down, you know: it was never a question.

Not really.

He moves you to the farmhouse.

It’s quiet. Isolated. “Safe,” he says. He wants to give you peace, a slower life. There’s no reception out here. No visitors unless he lets them in.

He builds a new life for you. A garden. A library. A bedroom with floor-to-ceiling windows for sunlight he swears is only for you.

You try to talk to him about freedom. About space. About feeling caged.

He laughs—laughs—and says, “You don’t need freedom, baby. You need me.”

And maybe he’s right.

Because even if you ran, he’d find you. He’s always listening. Always watching. Always there.

But he never hurts you.

Never.

You’re his. And he worships you like it.

He carries you to bed every night. Brushes your hair. Kisses your ankles. Your wrists. Your knuckles. He holds you like you’re the last piece of a crumbling world.

And when you cry?

He doesn’t ask why.

He just pulls you closer, strokes your back, and whispers, “It’s okay. You don’t have to think anymore. Just let me take care of you.”

He calls it love.

And maybe it is.

Maybe it’s the only kind of love a god like him can give.

But deep down, you know the truth:

Clark doesn’t love you.

He owns you.

And now?

There’s no getting out.

— MASTERLIST ☆

— © luv-lock. Don't copy, use or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆

[mostholystuffz]

x reader fanfic writers please just know that i love you thanks and good night

[mostholystuffz]

Horrorfest: He Came Home [Yandere Michael Myers x Reader]

Title: He Came Home [Yandere Michael Myers x Reader]

Synopsis: You're being stalked by the Boogeyman but no one believes you.

For Horrorfest request:

I'm so happy you write for Halloween omg 👀 can I request a stalker ish michael Myers, more yendere than I'm going to murder you brutally right away lol

Word Count: 1647

Notes: Yandere, stalking, death/killing (not reader); some graphic violence descriptions.

It’s someone playing a prank. People always do it around Halloween.

You shouldn’t make up stories using Michael Myers. It’s not funny. He really killed people, you know.

If you don’t have concrete evidence, we can’t do anything for you. It’s probably just some teen messing with you.. Keep your doors locked and call us if anything happens.

You’re being stalked by the Boogeyman and not a single person in your life, your whole damn town, believes you. And maybe there’s a reason for it, God knows that it wasn’t uncommon for people to pull pranks like this--to turn tragedy into mockery and entertainment.

Damn kids, and all that.

But it’s different now because it’s real and it’s happening to you. And you are not crazy or lying and this is not a prank. You’ve seen him more than once, a shadow at first, something you brushed off.

The next time, he was standing down the street, half hidden by a tree. But you saw him. And he saw you. And every muscle in your body had tensed before you whirled around and ran. It was a joke, a teenager with a morbid sense of humor, maybe one of your friends praying on your scaredy-cat tendencies. 

But then you saw him from your bedroom window, standing down below in the grass. 

And your kitchen window, behind the fluttering sheets you’d tacked up earlier in the day.

And you know, you just know, that one day he will be inside your house.

Coming for you.

--

No one believes you. But that doesn’t stop your friends from laughingly agreeing to have a sleepover to ease your worries, something none of you have done since you were teenagers. Only this time instead of sneaking booze from mom’s locked cabinet using the pilfered key and drinking until you saw stars, you were going to be stone-cold sober and sleeping with a knife.

If (when?) he came for you, you’d be ready. 

Glenn disappears first, after announcing that he’s heading out to the garage to grab a beer. Like he’s at some teenage kegger.

Your friends laugh when he doesn’t return--maybe he’s chugging them all and not saving any for the rest of us--but you start to tear up and Tina sighs and says she’ll go out to get them.

But Tina doesn’t come back, either.

The house is silent and it’s just you and Nancy, and Nancy is the sensible one. She won’t make jokes about what you say you’re experiencing, even if she’s keen to downplay it as a prank. She doesn’t dismiss Glenn and Tina not coming back as something silly. Instead, she locks the door to the garage and flicks off all the lights and grabs a baseball bat.

Don’t, you should say, don’t go looking for them. But you’re too afraid to look yourself and Nancy, Nancy is strong isn’t she? Strong and brave. She won’t do anything stupid. So she heads to the front door and tells you to lock it as soon as she leaves, then wait by the phone and call the cops if she isn’t back in a few minutes.

And you do, with fingers that fumble and sweat. The lock clicks hard and you run to the phone, hand trembling on the receiver so hard that you keep lifting it off and hearing little bursts of dial tone. 

You glance down at your watch, squinting in the dimness to see the time. It’s been a minute, maybe two. How long should you wait? Maybe Nancy was chewing them out, scolding them for scaring you. Yeah. She would do that. Then she’d make them come in and apologize, like she’d had to do before when they pushed your buttons too hard. 

This fantasy carries you through to the next minute, and the next, until the garage door bursts open, and you can hear the wood splintering and cracking, swiping away anything but an awful reality that sends your heart rate sky-high.

You should run, really, but it feels like your legs are stuck to the floor. Rooted like a tree, even though your hands are now shaking wildly. You dimly hear the dial tone and remember what you’re supposed to do, and your finger shoves itself into the rotary dial, twisting and twisting the local sheriff’s office--

Until the phone is ripped out of the wall like a piece of paper, and you turn around to see the real-life boogeyman standing in front of you. No longer far away and through glass, but flesh and blood, close enough to see, close enough to smell. 

Close enough that you can see the glint of a knife in his hand.

You can even see his eyes through the mask and meet his gaze, your own eyes wide with pinprick pupils, and his merely staring at you through the holes in this mask. You hear, softly enough, the sound of breathing; his or yours? 

A gasp is caught in your throat when he grabs your shirt and shoves you away from the ruined phone, hard enough to knock you off your feet. You land on the floor, but your legs no longer feel rooted, and you scramble to your feet and do the only thing you can do: run.

The ruined garage door is the path of least resistance, and you run through the doorway and grope for the railing but miss it. 

You trip down the stairs, landing on the concrete hard enough to make your palms sting and even bleed, but--no, that’s not your blood. That’s not your blood at all. The blood on your palm is thick and wet and when you look up, you see Nancy’s corpse sprawled out on the ground, face down, stab wounds oozing from her back. Tina and Glenn are behind her, both bleeding heavily from the chest. Tina’s red chest heaves and maybe her eyes look at you, but you can’t tell if she actually sees you.

“Oh,” you say, voice suddenly unrecognizable to your own ears. “Oh.”

And there’s a shadow above you, the shadow of shadows, and you don’t even have time to turn around as his hand grips the back of your shirt and pulls you backward. 

Words flash through you--I’m going to die--before there’s a dull awful pain at the back of your head (why the knife blunt?) and darkness overtakes everything in the world.

--

You don’t expect to wake up, but you do. 

And when you do, you’re sitting in an unfamiliar space full of dust and dirt. A simple room with nothing in it but a ragged blanket and some stray, dusty furniture--an old wooden chair, a wooden chest. The windows are boarded up, but you can tell it’s night-time.

A house that no one has been in for years, maybe. A house that has fallen into disrepair and ruin. There weren’t any houses like this in town proper, you knew, so you must be in the woods outside of town, where there were occasionally remnants of abandoned places. 

Why were you in the woods? Why were you in a house?

The thoughts are clear and simple, piercing through a swimming ache in the back of your head. You focus on these thoughts to keep you from passing out again. In the woods, in a house. In the woods, in a house. In the woods, in a house.

But why?

And then you remember. Michael Myers. Your friends. The blood. The pain.

As if on cue, there’s another sound in the house. A sound that is distinctly familiar, heavy footsteps and yes, it must have been his before--the sound of breathing. Soft and subtle, like a stray sound muffled through the wall. 

You move to stand on weakened legs, but keep yourself pressed back against the wall as the figure of Michael Myers walks and stands in the doorway.

It’s as if the air itself becomes thick and heavy with his presence, and you almost want to sit down again. But you force yourself to stay standing. At least if you’re standing, you have a chance to run, if you can.

But he doesn’t give you one, not at this moment, anyway. Instead he stays in the doorway and simply stares at you.

Long enough for your tongue to loosen, words coming out dry through your chapped lips. How long were you out, anyway?

“Why… why did you bring me here?”

No answer.

“Where are we?”

No answer.

Finally, you swallow spit, and ask a question that you don’t really want to be answered. 

“Are you going to kill me?”

You swear you hear him inhale through his nose, a short, thin sort of breath. 

He takes a step into the room. There’s nowhere for you to go, and you feel helpless sobs start to bubble up in your throat. You look down and there’s no knife--that you can see--but that doesn’t stop the visuals of your murdered friends and vague impressions of everyone you know who has been killed by him from flashing through your head.

He stops right in front of you. You half expect him to grab your neck and twist. Or grab your throat and squeeze.

But all he does is tilt his head slightly, looking at you through the holes in his mask. You wish you could erase the visual memory of his eyes, wish that you’d never seen them at all; the faraway impression that he had two big black holes was more merciful than this. 

And then his hand reaches out and touches your face, callused fingertips brushing against your cheek. 

His fingers leave behind traces of grime and your friends' dried blood. 

[mostholystuffz]

Yandere Eldritch being who has taken over your entire town.

TW. Dead Dove Do Not Eat Horror, confinement, isolation, death, Stockholm syndrome, yandere

You didn’t know when it had happened, but there was something very obviously wrong with your town.

It was the little things like the warped street signs, the inconsistent cracks in the sidewalk, and the way that the uncanny faces of people seemed to stare at you. It didn’t use to be like this, but you found yourself cautious about your new reality on the daily. You did try to leave and call for help, but there was some mysterious force cutting off your network. And when you did try to pack all your bags and high tail it out of there, you would end up just looping straight back on your street no matter what direction you drove in.

So now you made do with the fact that nothing was normal.

You sometimes wonder why whatever has infected all the people decided to leave you alone. Because there was no way it wasn’t a conscious decision. Your favorite flowers would start sprouting out of concrete walls and glass despite the fact it would be the middle of winter one day and a scorching summer the next. Not to mention, those flowers didn’t even grow here to begin with. It was a gesture. If it was meant to tempt or be kind, you weren’t sure. 

The town functioned like nothing was out of the ordinary, though. Well, at least it tried to puppet the barely real bodies of your community to do things they would daily. The grocery store always had food and figures milling about, and even though none of the products ever tasted quite right or had words in a real language, you could tell “it” was trying to keep things running for you.

You’d once tried to hide away in your house, thinking that it was somehow protecting you from whatever was out there. But all you did was make it angry. Constant thunderstorms that shook the ground, and hail that pounded on your roof and walls. When you continued to stay inside, that’s when it made things clear: it was letting you stay as you were. The house shifted dramatically, doors disappearing and walls bending in front of your eyes. 

Come outside. Stop trying to resist.

Privacy was just another one of those far-out concepts now.

The thing, as you so liked to call it, had been more affectionate lately. You didn’t know exactly how to describe it, but it had started morphing all the “people” into more attractive versions of themselves. Or at least, what it thought of as attractive to humans. Their faces were more tangible now and less blink-and-you’ll-miss-it, but they were uncanny in a new way. Skin too smooth, too perfect in so many different ways. Symmetrical, full lips, pleasant expressions, soothing voices: all things that on paper would lure someone in, but it had alarm bells ringing in your head nearly all the time now.

“I don’t like this, you know,” You said one day as you sat in the diner. The room was stretched out wider than what it looked like on the outside, and the waitress had an unnaturally wide smile. Before you was a plate of… something. Your guess was pancakes.

“What do you mean?” Several voices asked at once. It came from all around, and the waitress’s mouth barely moved to match the words. 

“ I like you better when you aren’t trying so hard to be something you weren’t.”

There was a pause, and the building slowly unraveled into a jumbled mess of things that you could barely comprehend, the other patrons' faces and bodies melting away into linoleum floors. 

“You’re not human. You don’t have to be. I think I’d prefer that honestly,” You shrugged and poked at your food. From the corner of your eyes, a figure seemed to emerge from the mess of what used to be your favorite restaurant. It was a writhing mass of dark tendrils, reaching for anything nearby. You’re breath caught in your throat.

“Do you really mean that?”

The voice spoke, but there wasn’t any face to accompany it. It reverberated in the base of your spine, racing through your nerves like lightning. Your breath hitched, and you finally gathered enough courage to look at it. It was a mess of things you couldn’t quite make out, but it was almost comforting. 

“This is the first time I’ve actually seen you,” you admitted, a small laugh of disbelief caught in your throat. You couldn’t help but smile. It was the first time it had actually listened to you. 

The being twitched, pulsing as it slid over towards where you were sitting at the booth. It was the only thing that had stayed intact. For something so expressionless, you’d dare to say it seemed shy. 

From the inky mass, one tendril reached out for you, the air around it crackling. You stayed in place as it slid over your hand, and you felt the wonder and relief.

“Will you stay with me? I don’t want to force you, but I’m so alone… you’re the only one who doesn’t disappear when I’m near.”

You blinked as the mass filled the cracks between your hands, folding into the lines of your palms as if trying to memorize you. If it had a hand, you’d be holding it. If it had lips, yours would be slotting against them. If it had a heart, you were certain they’d be painted a similar shade of loneliness. 

You stood up and slowly approached it, holding out your arms as you leaned in, wrapped your arms around its slowly forming figure, and nodded in silence. 

[mostholystuffz]

sorry to have to tell you this but if a stranger comes to your inbox or slides in your DMs asking you for your money with some sob story, no matter how tragic and convincing the story is, they are a scammer — especially if the story is obviously copied and pasted, formatted in the exact same way as the other 100 bots in your inbox

[mostholystuffz]

A Not-so Regular Dating Show

Imagine this: You get recruited for a dating show—think Bachelor / bachelorette type show. A casting agent approaches you at the mall and offers a letter inviting you to be the main contestant on a new high-profile dating show. The prize money is RIDICULOUS—enough to pay off debt, buy a house, retire, etc. You’re skeptical (obviously), but everything checks out: the production company is legit, the contracts seem standard, and honestly? You think, "Okay, free vacation, some screen time, and a check? Say less."

Of course, you didn’t read the fine print. Nobody ever does.

Welcome to "For Keeps," the hottest new reality dating show with one rule: love is forever. The setup seems familiar—you’ll live in a mansion for 8 weeks while dating 12 carefully selected contestants who are supposedly your "perfect matches." There will be group dates, one-on-ones, competitions, elimination, all the usual reality TV drama stuff.

You show up, and the mansion is GORGEOUS. Like, reality-TV-never-saw-budget-cuts gorgeous. The host is suspiciously smiley. The cameras are already rolling. You’re ushered into a velvet chair with a champagne flute and a “just relax, the contestants will be here shortly.”

And the they arrive.

Twelve stunning, charming, beautiful men. It seemed standard really - what you DON'T know is that the show's producers have specifically cast people with intense yandere tendencies. We're talking full-on obsessive personalities who fall in love at first sight and will do ANYTHING to "win" your heart forever.

The horror dawns on you gradually:

• Contestant #1 somehow has your childhood photos despite never mentioning where you grew up

• Contestant #2 "accidentally" drugs the competition's food before a second group date

• Contestant #3 has already planned their honeymoon AND picked out names for their future children

• Contestant #4 carved your name into their arm during a confessional

• Contestant #5 has trapped three other contestants in a closet

• Contestant #6 has cameras hidden in the your private bathroom

• Contestant #7 collects your hair from their hairbrush

By the third group date, a contestants had to be tranquilized by production because they tried to “remove the competition.” But you can’t leave because of your contract. You're under surveillance and mic’d 24/7. And every single challenge—cooking dates, scavenger hunts, truth or dare—is rigged to push your contestants just a little further into madness.

Production keeps gaslighting you: "That's just how the game is played!" "The audience LOVES the drama!" "You signed a contract, you can't leave until the finale!"

Meanwhile, the ratings are through the roof because viewers think this is all scripted drama. The social media fandom is going WILD shipping you with different contestants - fan cams. Edits. TikToks with 8 million views. Completely unaware that you're legitimately fearing for your life.

I also like to imagine they'll be a spin-off where former contestants are put in therapy and a reunion special where you testify from witness protection.

[mostholystuffz]

Imagine planning a scene with your boyfriend to live out a spicy fantasy of getting chased through the woods by a psycho killer, but it becomes more realistic than you expected. <3

“Wow, you're really into it, I wasn't expecting this.”

You smiled as your boyfriend crossed his arms and quietly tilted his head as he observed you. A chill of excitement went through you at his silence. He really was in character.

Dressed head and toe in all black, wearing a Ghostface mask, holding a sharp knife in his leather gloved hand.

Just as you had planned.

He stepped towards you and raised the knife up like he was about to stab you. But you weren't scared at all. You laughed and put your hands up in mock surrender.

“I know, I know how this works. I'll run, and you come find me.”

You smiled as you stepped closer to him, putting your hand on his hard chest and tilted your head.

“Wow, you've been working out more, haven't you?”

You giggled as he gave you a silent nod in response. You tilted your head as you playfully ran your hand down his stomach, stopping just before you got any lower, teasing him.

“So, what do you say? Give me a five second head start?”

You were delighted when he stepped back, like he was giving you the invitation to go. You reached out and gave him a kiss, staining the white plastic with your lipstick before you took off into the woods.

Every little sound caused your heart to race in your chest. You continued to look behind your back, a thrill running down your spine each time you did.

Finally after weaving around for a few minutes, you finally decided to hide behind a thick tree, squatting behind it.

You leaned back against it, excited as your mind raced with a bunch of different scenarios.

Would he push you down and rip your clothes off? Wrap his gloved hand around your throat and mercilessly fuck you no matter how much you begged?

A shiver ran down your spine as you thought about all your desires being filled once he caught you. Your thoughts were cut off as your phone buzzed with a message notification.

You were smiling as you looked down at your phone, thinking it was one of your friends texting you. You couldn't wait to tell them all about this, you thought to yourself.

Your blood ran cold as a message popped up from your boyfriend.

Sorry I'm running late, babe. Know you were excited but work kicked my ass today. Love you.

If that wasn't your boyfriend, who was the man in that mask? Your hand started trembling, a genuine wave of fear went through you.

This wasn't fun anymore. Looking around, you quickly clicked on the call button and pressed call, waiting for him to come and help you.

Your boyfriend picked up after a few rings, but you weren't able to speak. You yelped as you were roughly yanked up, making you drop your phone on the forest ground as you were pulled into a stranger's arms.

You tilted your head back as you looked at him, noticing he was wearing the same Ghostface mask with your kiss mark on it.

His gloved hand clasped across your mouth before you could scream, dragging you deeper into the woods as your boyfriend called out your name through your abandoned phone.

[mostholystuffz]

Butterfly| Dark Samurai X Cursed! Reader

Inspired: Butterfly by Smile.dk

The deadly aura wrapped around the forest like a heavy veil, making it harder to see a clearing.

Yet, you flew through the trees with ease, remembering how you used to walk on land with your two feet, enjoying the sense of freedom you had, but the witch's curse has stolen that from you.

The painful transformation shrank your body, and wings burst from your back. By dawn, you were a butterfly, cured by the witch you insulted.

But she was tauntingly merciful enough to tell you how to break the curse.

'To break the spell, you must find a warrior of steel and shadow. At the edge of his blade, you must stand, and only then shall you be free.'

You had searched for what felt like an eternity, watching as warriors clashed and swords sliced through the air, but none had seemed worthy...until tonight.

The scent of blood and steel clung to the breeze as you approached a lone warrior standing amidst a recent battle.

His armor, though splattered with crimson, gleamed beneath the moonlight.

Long black hair, unbound and wild, framed a face too beautiful for a man who had just ended so many lives.

You, understanding the final step of the witch's riddle, landed on the very edge of the blade, your tiny feet clinging to the cold steel.

A strange energy pulsed through you, a jolt that shattered the illusion of your butterfly form causing the world to swim back into focus, your human senses returning with a rush.

Human limbs tangling as you collapsed against the samurai’s chest.

His arms caught you instinctively, his breath hitching as he stared down at you, a naked, trembling woman where a butterfly had been just moments before.

"What sorcery is this?" he demanded with a voice that is low and dangerous.

You gasped, still shuddering from the transformation.

"A curse," you admitted. "One that could only be broken... by standing on the edge of your blade."

His gaze darkened. Something flickered in those dark eyes, something possessive, and ravenous.

You didn’t understand it. Not yet.

The witch had left out one crucial detail.

Breaking the curse didn’t just free you.

It bounded the ruthless samerui to you.

---

Akao was not a man who believed in fate. He believed in steel, in blood, in the weight of a promise.

But from the moment you tumbled into his arms, he knew Kami has chosen you for him.

You were his.

He didn’t say it, not at first. He gave you his haori to cover yourself, he fed you, and gave his protection as you traveled together.

However, his eyes never left you. His fingers lingered when they touched. And when a bandit dared to leer at you, his blade found his throat before you could even blink.

"You didn’t have to kill him," you whispered that night, watching the firelight dance across Akao’s sharp features.

He didn't answer you, as his gaze was unwavering.

You shivered.

It wasn’t until weeks later, when he pressed you against a temple wall after speaking to one of the villagers, his body caging yours, that you finally understood.

"You are mine," he breathed, lips grazing your ear.

"The moment you chose my katana, you chose me."

You should have been afraid. But the heat in his eyes, the devotion in his touch, it melted your resistance.

The curse had bound you to him, yes.

But as his mouth claimed yours, as he vowed to carve his love into your skin and soul, you realized something far more dangerous.

You didn’t want to be free.

Not from him.

Never from him.

[mostholystuffz]

Hi, I was wondering if you can do a Dark Male! Maleficent x female reader who is the mother of Aurora?

You were once the beloved of Maleficent, the dark and powerful fae lord, before King Stefan, his closest friend, stole you away, marrying you and making you queen.

When you bear Stefan a daughter, Princess Aurora, Maleficent's betrayed heart turns to vengeance.

He curses the child, ensuring she will die when she pricks her finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel before the sun sets on her 16th birthday and dies.

Merryweather softened the curse so she would only fall into a deep sleep instead of dying on her sixteenth birthday unless true love’s kiss breaks the spell.

Your husband assigned three fairies to look after Aurora, and they are Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather.

However, you insisted on going with them to look after your daughter, to which Stefan hesitantly agreed.

One evening, as you gathered herbs near the edge of the forest with Aurora, you felt it, a presence, dark and familiar.

"Does Stefan ever visit?"

The voice echoed through the trees, sending a shiver down your spine. You turned slowly, your breath catching as he emerged from the trees

Maleficent.

Taller than you remembered, his horns gleaming like polished onyx, his green eyes glowing in the dim light.

His cloak of raven feathers shifted with every step, the air around him humming with restrained power.

"No," you answered softly, gripping your basket tighter. "He never has."

Maleficent's lips curled into a smirk. "How tragic. To abandon his wife and child… just as he abandoned loyalty."

You swallowed hard. "Why are you here?"

His gaze burned into yours.

"I could ask you the same. You were a queen. Now you live in a cottage, hiding like a common thief."

"I'm protecting my daughter," you snapped.

"From me?" He asks.

His gaze turns to the unaware princess as she happily collects the herbs.

"I could remove the curse."

Your heart fills with hope as you quickly demand what he wants.

"What are your conditions?"

"You know what I want," he said.

Your breath hitched.

"I loved you. Before he ever dared whisper your name. I would have razed kingdoms for your happiness, and yet..." His jaw clenched, nostrils flaring.

"He took you. Lied to me, made me believe you had chosen him."

Your eyes widened. "That’s not true!"

"Is it not?" he snapped, stepping closer, his voice like thunder beneath his breath.

"He told me you saw me as a monster, that you were frightened of what I was, that you were grateful he saved you.”

"I never said that!" you gasped.

"Stefan… he told me you had left, that you were consumed by darkness and no longer cared-"

Maleficent's eyes narrowed, coming to realise what has happened.

"He poisoned us both."

"I would have chosen you," you admit, voice trembling.

"I did choose you. But when he said you were gone, I-"

He was in front of you now, so close, his scent giving you nostalgia.

His hand lifted, hesitated, then brushed a strand of hair from your cheek, the touch was gentle.

"Then come back to me," Maleficent stares firmly.

"You, leave this hollow life behind, the curse remains unless I lift it. But I will not do so unless I know you are mine again."

"I can't just walk away," you said. "She's his daughter too."

"He does not deserve her," Maleficent said coldly. "And you know it. He has not lifted a finger to protect her. You have. You’ve always been the one.”

Your gaze moves to your daughter, thinking matters over.

"Renounce your marriage to him, and I will make you my wife and I will raise Aurora as my daughter and make her the princess of the Moors."

Now, staring back at the Fae king, you make your decision.

You are ready to sacrifice everything for your daughter's safety.

"As long as you keep your promise and lift the curse I will also keep my promise."

[mostholystuffz]

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry... I’ll be good I promise, I’ll change I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do. Please I can’t live without you, you’re my savior, my goddess please don’t throw me away I’ll die without you”

“I hate being alone, it’s so cold here without you. Not being able to see you scares me, I feel so uneasy. I exist for you, I won’t leave this room unless I’m with you, I won’t even talk to anyone b-but you are able to do those without me, because you don’t need me. I can smell other people whenever you come back to this room, I know I have no right to complain about such things but it breaks my heart I can’t help it. I exist for you, I breathe for you, I live for you. This worthless life belongs to you so please keep it, don’t throw it away don’t neglect it”

[mostholystuffz]

im 17 and im still watching slime vids

[mostholystuffz]

Busted! (Secret Relationship) 2.0

what if the two of you are in a secret relantionship and suddenly everyone start to realize something is going on?

characters: luffy, sabo, kid, shanks, bartolomeo

(zoro, sanji, law, koby, ace)

a/n: sorry about the barto one, I got out of ideas but needed a 5th character...

words count: around 0.8k - 1.5k each

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

── .✦ Luffy:

You sit at the far end of the Sunny’s deck, legs dangling over the side. The sea sparkles in the sun, and the wind plays with your hair. Luffy is across from you, lying on his back with his hat over his face.

You glance at him for the third time in one minute.

He lifts the hat just a bit “You’re staring again” he says with a grin.

“I’m not” you lie, too fast.

“You are.” Luffy sits up, stretching “Why?”

“Because you’re weird” you say, kicking the air with your feet.

Luffy laughs “That’s true! Can I kiss you?”

You smile, but quickly turn away when you hear footsteps. Sanji walks by with a tray of drinks. He looks at you, then at Luffy, then back at you. He squints.

“Something wrong with your face, Sanji?” you ask, trying to sound casual.

He frowns “No. Just… never mind. Dinner is almost ready.” He walks off.

You glance at Luffy. He’s watching you now.

“Do you think he knows?” you whisper.

Luffy shrugs “Maybe. But who cares?”

“I care! We said we’d keep this a secret, remember? You’re our captain, they will think I get favouritism or something.”

He pouts “I show favoritism to every single one of them. None of you even call me Captain… Who else in the world is a captain but isn’t even called ‘Captain’ by his own crew? Just me! And I really want to tell them.”

“We can’t” you say, standing up “Not yet. It’ll be weird. They’ll tease us forever.”

Luffy tilts his head “So?”

“So… I like it like this. Just us.”

He grins again and nods “Okay, okay. Just us. I like this too.”

But then Usopp yells from the other side of the ship, “Luffy! Why were you smiling like that? Did you eat something without me?!”

Luffy shouts back, “No! Mind your business for once!”

You giggle.

He looks at you, serious for a second “They’re gonna find out.”

“You’re a terrible liar but if we’re careful we can at least have some more time.” you say.

But even as you say it, you know its just a matter of days before Luffy will “accidentally” expose you.

“DINNER IS READY!”

Everyone is gathered around the table, plates stacked high with meat, rice, and bread. Sanji’s outdone himself again. Luffy is already three plates in, sauce all over his face and hands.

You’re chewing on a piece of pizza when a bit of sauce drips onto your chin.

Without even thinking, Luffy leans across the table with a napkin he just stole from Nami and wipes it away gently.

“Messy” he mumbles smiling at you, like it’s normal.

Everyone freezes.

Nami slowly lowers her fork. Zoro raises an eyebrow. Usopp’s mouth falls open.

Sanji blinks “What the hell was that?”

Luffy freezes like a statue, still holding the napkin mid-air.

You feel your soul leave your body.

“Are you two…” Nami starts, squinting hard, “…dating?”

Luffy sits up fast, and stay still like he’s got caught in the middle of stealing all the food.

Then he suddenly snaps “Absolutely fucking not! Why would you even think that?!”

Silence.

You blink.

Zoro tilts his head “You sure? ‘Cause that was some weird-ass behavior.”

“Yeah, dude,” Usopp adds “You never wipe anyone’s face. You don’t even wipe your own face.”

Nami who is still shocked “Did… did he just say absolutely fucking not?”

Luffy looks like a deer caught in a very obvious lie.

Your eye twitches.

You sigh, lean back in your chair, and say, “Yes… yes. We’re dating. That lie was so bad I can’t even pretend anymore.”

Nami chokes on her drink. Brook lets out a dramatic gasp. Chopper claps his hooves together.

All while you whisper “Stupid me, I even thought the worst scenario was you finding out in the next few days.”

Luffy looks at you, then back at them “Wait—so we’re telling them now?”

“No, you! You told them by being the worst liar I’ve ever seen.”

He scratches his head “Oops.”

“You literally said ‘absolutely fucking not’, not really in character from you, don't you think?”

He grins “I panicked…That made it more dramatic, right?”

Sanji stands up like he’s about to give a whole speech “When did this start? How long have you been hiding this from your family?”

You groan. Luffy laughs. Everyone starts shouting questions at once.

He leans over and nudges you with his elbow “Hey. At least it’s not a secret anymore. And they don't seem to mind it at all! You were so scared for nothing, look at them!”

You shove a piece of bread in his mouth “You owe me so many meat dinners.”

He just grins wider and keeps eating like nothing happened but with a grin that actually says everything happened.

── .✦ Sabo:

It’s quiet after dinner. The hum of HQ fades beneath the warm weight of Sabo’s arms around you. You’re curled up in his lap on the couch in his room, legs tangled, his coat draped over both of you like a blanket. He’s kissing you softly, lazily, like the world doesn’t need saving for just a few hours.

“You always smell like smoke” you whisper, nose brushing his.

Sabo chuckles, pressing another kiss to your cheek “And you smell like peace. So I guess we’re even.”

You smile, fingertips trailing the line of his jaw, just about to kiss him again when BANG. The door flies open.

Hack stands there. Eyes wide. Mouth slightly open. Absolutely regretting everything.

“…Oh...” he says flatly.

You launch upright, nearly taking the coat with you.

“WAIT—!”

But Sabo, not missing a beat, still lazily cradling your waist, says in a perfectly deadpan voice “Close the door. We’re not done yet.”

Hack’s brain visibly short-circuits.

He backs out slowly like he’s seen the gates of hell.

“Yup. Nope. Didn’t see anything. I need bleach. Where’s the bleach.”

The door clicks shut.

Silence.

You collapse against Sabo, face buried in his chest.

He just laughs, fingers drawing gentle circles on your back.

“Hack’s probably going to meditate in a cold stream after this.”

The next morning Koala kicks open your cabin door “Rise and shine, lazyass—training starts in twen—”

She stops.

Empty bed. No note. No sign of life.

Her eye twitches.

Cut to: Sabo’s room. She barges in without knocking.

“What the hell, have you seen—oh my GOD!”

You’re in Sabo’s bed. In his shirt.

He’s sleepily spooning you, arm wrapped tight around your waist, chin nestled in your hair like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Koala freezes.

You freeze.

Sabo doesn’t move a muscle. Just groans, nuzzles into you, and pulls you back down under the covers.

“…So that’s why you’re both always smiling at morning drills” Koala mutters.

You peek over Sabo’s shoulder, hair a mess, whispering “Hack didn’t lock the door.”

Koala just turns on her heel “Unbelievable. I’m calling Dragon. You two need supervised training from now on.”

You’re both trying so hard to keep it a secret even now.

Swearing up and down: No more getting caught. No more accidental cuddling in public. No more open doors. NO MORE SPOONING IN SABO'S SHIRT WHILE KOALA SCREAMS.

And yet...

After a brutal training session, you’re the last two stragglers left on the field. The sun's setting, sweat gleaming on both of you, breath still heavy from sparring.

Sabo tosses his gloves aside, runs a hand through his messy, damp hair, and looks at you like you're made of starlight and rebellion.

He steps closer.

You’re flushed, smiling, practically glowing from the adrenaline.

He reaches out, fingers brushing your cheek.

"Nobody’s here," he murmurs, a little breathless “Just one kiss.”

You’re this close. This close. Lips nearly touching—BOOM.

Ivankov struts around the corner like they owns the damn place, fanning dramatically.

“OH honey, if you’re gonna get sweaty together, at least invite me to watch!”

You and Sabo JUMP apart like you’ve been electrocuted.

Sabo coughs violently and turns beet red while you trip over your own foot trying to act like you were doing literally anything else.

Ivankov is grinning like the cat who caught the canoodling lovebirds “You two are about as subtle as a sea king in a bathtub.”

Ivankov winks and keeps walking like nothing happened.

Sabo is frozen. You’re wheezing from secondhand embarrassment.

“…We suck at this.” you mutter.

Sabo just covers his face and groans, “I’m never going to hear the end of all this.”

By now, literally everyone has caught you and Sabo in some weirdly intimate moment, except for one man, Monkey D. Dragon. And that’s how the betting pool was born.

It started with Koala dropping 50 berries on “He finds them mid-make-out in the strategy room.”

Hack went in on “One of them slips up and calls the other ‘babe’ during a mission brief.”

Even Ivankov scribbled down “Sabo gets distracted by Y/N’s ass mid-battle. Dragon walks up behind him.”

There’s a whiteboard hidden in the break room with all their bets.

In all this you and Sabo are sitting on a bench overlooking the cliffside near HQ, pretending to "review maps". The sun is golden, the breeze is soft, and Sabo’s hand is definitely resting a little too high on your thigh for this to be strictly cartographic.

Sabo chuckles, tilting his head toward the training grounds “Koala’s been pointing at us through binoculars for the last ten minutes.”

You glance over and she waves. So does Ivankov, who is literally holding a notepad that says “DRAGON CATCHES THEM: THURSDAY AT 14:37”.

You groan, burying your face in Sabo’s shoulder “This is humiliating.”

He laughs, pressing a kiss to your hair “We could just tell him and so they'll stop.”

You both pause.

Then simultaneously say, “Nope.”

The next day, it’s supposed to be a standard mission call. Everyone’s focused, the mission is critical, and everything is tense.

Suddenly, in the middle of all the seriousness, something goes wrong. You’re trying to navigate a tricky situation on the field, and you have to quickly adjust your position, which means you shift out of the line of communication for a second.

Sabo watches, trying to get your attention, then blurts out, completely unintentionally “Careful, babe.”

The whole call goes silent. The Den Den Mushi crackles with static, and suddenly, everyone on the call freezes.

Dragon (deadpan, calm as ever) “...What did you just say, Sabo?”

You immediately go white and you whip around to look at Sabo with wide eyes, panic setting in. You can hear Ivankov’s voice in the background, already laughing.

You “SABO, ARE YOU DUMB?!”

Sabo turns a brilliant shade of red "I—I didn’t mean—"

Everyone on the call is absolutely losing it.

Koala, trying to hold back laughter “Oh my God. Did you—did you just call them babe?!”

Hack, in the most deadpan voice ever “I won, right? I absolutely won this bet.”

You’re trying to keep your cool, but you can’t. You can’t. You cover your face, groaning.

Dragon, ever the calm voice in the storm, but with a clear edge of irritation “Next time, keep the personal affections off the mission calls. You're lucky this wasn’t an urgent situation. We almost got compromised.”

You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks. You glance at Sabo, who looks like he’s about to combust.

You, exasperated “Sabo, f***, you made me get scolded! This is so embarrassing!”

Sabo, still trying to apologize “I—I didn’t mean it like that! It was just a slip—”

But the damage is already done.

Dragon, his voice slightly dry “We’ll talk about this later. Focus on the mission. And next time—be more professional.”

As the call ends, the atmosphere is tense. You and Sabo are left standing there, feeling like two complete idiots.

Later that day, the break room is chaos. Hack is smugly holding up his winnings from the betting pool. Koala is still laughing, and Ivankov is offering “support” by teasing Sabo non-stop.

You, on the other hand, are doing your best to avoid eye contact with everyone as Sabo sulks in the corner.

You, barely holding it together “I hate you right now. I really do.”

Sabo “I swear, I didn’t mean to. I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t mean to, but you’re still an idiot.”

Sabo rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly “…I deserve that.”

── .✦ Kid:

You don’t really think much of it the first time.

A small, clumsily wrapped package left outside your room on the Victoria Punk. The paper’s crinkled like it was balled up five times before someone gave up and tied it with rough twine.

Inside a shiny little trinket you’d mentioned wanting in passing weeks ago.

You raise a brow but say nothing. Maybe someone’s just being nice.

Then it happens again. And again.

Each gift is messy but thoughtful, like someone’s trying to be sweet. A handmade weapon accessory here. Your favorite snacks there. One day, a scrawled note reads, “Don’t let anyone else have this. It’s for you only” not signed.

The crew notices. Of course they do.

Heat starts humming “Someone’s got a secret admirer~.”

Wire goes like “Who even knew you liked that kind of thing?”

Killer, raising a brow behind his mask “...It’s weirdly specific, though. Whoever it is knows you pretty well.”

You try to play it off, but the teasing doesn’t stop. It only gets louder. More obnoxious.

Kid, arms crossed, leaning against the railing “Tch. Who cares? Buncha idiots drooling over gifts like teenagers.”

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye.

He's unbothered. Disinterested. Completely unfazed.

That night, when the ship’s quiet and everyone’s turned in, you knock on his door. He opens it in a loose tank top and sleep-rumpled hair, eyes narrowing.

“What.”

You cross your arms “Are the gifts from you?”

He blinks “What?”

“The stuff. The notes. The snacks. You’re the only one who listens that closely.”

A flicker of something passes through his expression, too fast to catch. But then his scowl deepens.

“You think I’ve got time to play secret admirer with you? Hell no.”

You stare at him, caught off guard.

“…You’re serious?”

He scoffs and turns away “Go to sleep. You’re imagining things.”

He slams the door behind him. You’re left in the hall, heart twisting a little. Because he sounded so convincing.

But if it’s not him… Then who the hell is it?

After that night with Kid, you really do try to let it go. But the crew doesn’t.

You can't walk into the mess hall without someone raising an eyebrow or tossing a comment.

Wire leans back in his chair one morning, boots on the table, biting into an apple with a grin “Hey, Y/N, no new packages today? What a tragedy. Guess your mystery lover finally ran out of ideas.”

Heat chuckles, elbowing him “Or maybe they’re just planning something bigger. Like a grand confession. What do you think, huh? Gonna be roses next time?”

You, dryly “Right. I’ll expect fireworks off the port side.”

Killer, voice calm but laced with amusement from beneath the mask “Honestly, I’m more impressed by the consistency. Whoever it is, they’re either very devoted… or very stupid.”

Kid, across the room, is pretending not to hear, arms crossed, eyes on something that doesn't exist. His jaw’s clenched so tight, you can see it from here.

You catch his eye for a second but he looks away fastly.

The next morning, nothing shows up. Then the next. And the next.

You don’t say anything about it. Neither does Kid. But something’s different in the air now, like tension caught in a bottle, just waiting to explode.

One night, you’re lying tangled up together, the hum of the ship quiet around you. He’s half asleep, heavy arm slung across your waist, his hand lazily tracing circles on your skin.

Your head is on his chest, warm and steady.

“…I haven’t gotten any new gifts lately” you mumble, mostly to yourself.

He stiffens just slightly, but doesn’t say a word.

You chew on your lip “Think they found out about us? Maybe they backed off.”

Still nothing.

You lift your head and look at him “You ever think about who it might’ve been? Kinda funny, right? Maybe someone on the crew really had a thing for me.”

Still no response.

You grin a little “What if it was Killer? You think he’s the poetic type? Am I his type?”

Before you can say another word—whump.

A pillow slams into your face, hard enough to make you roll.

“HEY!” you shout, laughing “You absolute brat!”

Kid doesn’t even look guilty.

“You’re annoying” he mutters, but there’s a faint blush rising to his ears. He turns his head, scowling at the ceiling like it insulted him personally.

You smirk, poking him in the side “Ohh, someone’s touchy…”

“I’m throwing you off the bed.”

“You’re not strong enough.”

“Wanna bet?”

Weeks pass.

Everyone moves on. The secret admirer jokes fade. Kid goes back to normal, grumpy, snarky, yours. You figure that weird little mystery chapter is just done.

Until one day, you find a new gift.

Not one of its usual ones, no haphazard twine, no angry handwriting. This one’s clean, careful. Wrapped in deep red paper with a ribbon tied perfectly.

Inside: a carved charm. Elegant. Personal.

The note says “Couldn’t help myself. Thought you’d like this.”

Your heart actually skips a beat.

You march straight to the engine bay, holding it up like evidence. Kid’s elbow-deep in mechanical guts, oil smeared on his hands.

“Hey,” you call “Now... is this from you?”

He glances up, sees the box, and freezes “What the fuck is that?”

“A gift. Someone left it for me. Just now.”

The silence is nuclear.

Then his voice explodes “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!”

He storms past you like a cannonball with legs, throwing open the engine bay doors and stomping onto the deck.

“ALRIGHT,” he bellows, voice booming across the ship, “WHOEVER THE HELL THINKS THEY CAN FLIRT WITH MY GIRL—COME SAY IT TO MY FACE!”

Everyone stops what they’re doing.

A wrench drops. Someone chokes on their food. Killer just sighs.

“YOU HEARD ME!” Kid’s pacing like a madman, hair wild, coat half falling off one shoulder “YOU THINK YOU CAN STEAL MY GIRL WITH PRETTY RIBBONS?! SHE’S MINE. MINE!”

You bury your face in your hands and whisper "Please stop, this is really embarassing."

Killer, calmly from the upper deck “Well. That answers that. We all knew the original gifts were from you, Eustass.”

Heat, grinning “Yeah, but I thought he’d last a little longer before breaking.”

Wire, yelling from the mess hall window “PAY UP! I SAID HE’D CRACK WHEN A REAL RIVAL SHOWED UP!”

You’re still standing in the middle of the storm, holding the new gift while your hot-headed boyfriend is screaming at the ocean.

You, deadpan “Great. Now the whole Grand Line knows.”

Kid, turning to you like you betrayed him “WHY WERE YOU SMILING AT IT?!

“Because I thought it was from you again!”

“WELL, IT WASN’T. AND NOW I’M GONNA MURDER WHOEVER THAT WAS.”

The deck is still vibrating from Kid’s volume. He’s stomping around like a territorial lion, red in the face and shouting murder oaths into the wind.

“COME ON! WHO WAS IT?! WHO THINKS THEY’VE GOT A CHANCE?! I’LL BREAK YOUR TEETH IN.”

You’re standing there, clutching the new gift, wondering if you’ll have to tackle him to keep the crew alive.

But then Killer steps forward, calm as ever “Kid.”

Nothing.

Killer raises his voice slightly “Kid!”

That gets through. Kid slows, turns, still wild-eyed “What?! You want me to let someone just—?!”

Killer sighs like he’s been dealing with this since the womb “That gift wasn’t from a rival. It was from us all.”

The entire crew falls silent.

You blink “Wait—what?”

Killer glances at you, then back to Kid, arms crossed “We knew the first gifts were from you. We’ve known for a while.”

Kid opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again “You—WHAT?!”

Heat, leaning against the rail with a huge grin “C’mon. You thought we wouldn’t recognize your handwriting? You write like you’re trying to fight the paper.”

Wire, popping his head out from the doorway “And who else would wrap a gift in metal wire and call it ‘aesthetic’?"

Killer adds “We figured if we pushed you enough, you’d confess eventually. That final gift was just the nudge.”

Kid stares at them like they’ve grown two heads “So it was a trap?!”

Killer, with a shrug “It worked.”

Then Killer turns to you “What we didn’t know was that you two were already together.”

There’s a ripple of surprise through the crew.

Wire nods “Yeah! Let's go back to that because... like... what?”

Heat nods even more dramatically “Yeah! Since when?!”

You, dryly “A few months before the first gift showed up.”

Kid’s jaw tightens like he regrets every decision leading to this moment.

“You guys are the worst” he growls.

Heat, wheezing “We’re the worst?! You’ve been sneaking around and flirting through weapon mods!”

Wire, laughing “AND YOU STILL DENIED IT TO HER FACE?!”

Kid lets out a sound somewhere between a growl and a scream and turns to you like you’re his last hope of escaping humiliation.

You just grin at him “C’mon, Captain. Let’s go before you combust.”

He’s still grumbling when you tug his arm and drag him below deck, muttering curses under his breath the whole way.

── .✦ Shanks:

The sea is quiet tonight.

The crew laughs near the campfire, their voices loud under the stars. You sit a little away from them, pretending to look at the moon. But really, you’re waiting. Waiting for him.

A warm hand touches your shoulder from behind.

“Miss me?” Shanks whispers, his voice soft like a wave brushing the shore.

You smile without turning “You’re late.”

“I had to talk to Benn. Captain stuff,” he says. Then he leans in close “But I’ve been thinking of you the whole time.”

You giggle, quiet “Liar.”

“I’m a pirate. What did you expect?”

Finally, you turn to him. Shanks is smiling that lazy smile you know too well. His red hair glows under the moonlight. His eyes? All on you.

“Don't look at me like that, someone might see it” you whisper, looking at the crew.

“They won’t,” he says “They’re drunk, loud, and too busy telling stories.”

You glance again. He’s right. No one is looking.

So you let him pull you behind the palm trees. The sand is warm under your feet, and the wind carries the scent of salt and firewood. He sits down and opens his arms.

“Come here.”

You crawl into his lap like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He wraps his one arm around your waist, holding you close.

“I missed you today” you say.

“I missed you too” he says. Then he kisses the top of your head “You know what keeps me going?”

“What?”

“This. Just this.”

You press your face into his chest “You’re soft for a pirate.”

He laughs, his chest shaking “Only with you.”

The night is quiet now. Just the waves and the sound of his heartbeat.

He whispers, “One day, when this secret doesn’t have to be a secret anymore… I’ll hold your hand in front of everyone. I’ll kiss you right on the deck.”

You look up at him “Promise?”

“I swear on the one piece.”

You laugh again, and he kisses your nose “That’s a big promise” you say.

“I never break my promises” he says.

And in that moment, under the stars and hidden from the world, you believe him.

It’s late now. The fire has burned low. The crew is asleep, scattered in hammocks or on the beach.

But you’re wide awake.

You stare at the door of his cabin. You know it’s risky. But your heart pulls you there anyway.

You knock once, soft.

The door opens almost instantly. He’s there, sleepy eyes and messy hair. Shirt half buttoned.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asks with a small smile.

You shake your head “Can I… stay?”

He doesn’t answer with words. Just steps aside, lets you in, and closes the door behind you.

His room smells like sea salt, old paper, and something that’s just him. It’s small but warm. The bed takes up most of the space.

“You sure you want to risk it?” he teases, pulling the blankets back.

You nod, already crawling in “You’re warm. That’s worth the risk.”

He chuckles, switching off the lantern “Come here then.”

The bed creaks as he joins you. You curl into his chest. His arm wraps around you tightly, like he’s afraid you’ll vanish.

You whisper into the dark, “I love when it’s just us.”

“I know,” he says, resting his chin on your head “Me too.”

Silence for a moment. Just your breaths, your hearts. Together.

Then he says, quietly, “I always sleep better when you’re here.”

You grin, even though he can’t see it.

“You snore” you whisper.

“Lies.”

“Loudly.”

He laughs, low and soft “I’m a captain. I’m allowed.”

You snuggle closer, legs tangled, warmth everywhere. His hand finds yours under the blanket. Fingers laced, easy and natural.

“Stay every night,” he says, voice almost a mumble now “Even if they find out. Even if it’s chaos. I don’t care anymore.”

“You’ll care when Benn gives you that look” you say.

“I’ll survive it,” he says “I won’t survive not having you.”

You go quiet at that. Because sometimes, he says things that hit your heart like a wave.

“I won’t survive not having you either” you whisper.

He kisses your forehead. Gentle. Safe. Real.

In the morning, the sunlight slips through the cracks in the window, painting golden stripes across the bed.

You stretch, warm and safe, still tucked under Shanks’ arm. He’s already awake, watching you with sleepy eyes and a soft smile.

“Morning” he whispers, brushing hair from your face.

“Morning” you mumble back, voice still scratchy from sleep.

He leans down and kisses your cheek “You drooled a little.”

“Liar.”

“You did.”

You groan, roll over, and bury your face in his pillow “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

You don’t.

But you’re very late.

You were supposed to help Lucky Roux in the kitchen twenty minutes ago. But after all the cuddling and stealing kisses between brushing your teeth and Shanks being distracting (on purpose), you throw on the nearest shirt and rush out the door.

The morning air hits your face. The crew is already up, busy with chores, chatting, moving crates, laughing.

You walk fast, head down, trying not to look guilty. But then someone says behind you, “Hey…”

You freeze.

It’s Yasopp.

He squints, then tilts his head “That shirt looks kinda familiar…”

You look down. Big, red, half-buttoned pirate shirt. Smells faintly like rum and sea and... you.

It’s his shirt.

You force a smile “Oh, really? I, um… I just bought this yesterday in town! Crazy, right?”

Yasopp blinks “It’s just... Shanks has one just like that.”

You laugh. Too loud “That’s so funny! What a coincidence!”

He raises an eyebrow “Uh-huh.”

You start walking again “Okay, bye! Gotta go stir the stew!”

You practically run to the kitchen, slam the door behind you, and press your back to it, heart racing.

Lucky Roux looks up from chopping onions “You okay?”

“Fine! Everything’s fine! Great! Love onions!”

You spend the next hour hiding in the kitchen, trying to look very busy.

You’re scrubbing a spoon like it just insulted your whole family when you hear footsteps outside.

Then, his voice.

“Mmh…”

It’s Shanks.

You freeze.

“I swear I left it here somewhere…” he mumbles, mostly to himself.

Lucky Roux looks up “Captain?”

Shanks scratches his head “My red shirt. The one with the loose buttons? I wanted to wash it but… maybe I already did? Or someone moved it?”

You choke on air.

Lucky Roux’s eyes widen.

You slowly turn, still holding the spoon, sweat forming on your back.

Yasopp walks in right then, and Lucky Roux points at you silently.

Yasopp follows the finger… sees the very red shirt you’re wearing… and his jaw drops.

“Oh… my… GOD.”

You raise your hands like you’re being arrested “I can explain—”

“No no no no, don’t you dare,” Yasopp says, pointing now “This is amazing. Since when?!”

Shanks, confused, looks between you and them “Wait… what’s happening?”

Your face burns “Shanks. This is your shirt.”

He blinks.

Looks at you.

Then at the shirt.

Then back.

“Oh.”

The silence lasts about two seconds.

Then the entire kitchen explodes.

“What the hell?!”

“You two?!”

“I KNEW IT!”

Lucky Roux claps like he just saw a proposal “This is the best day of my life.”

You groan and hide behind a cabinet door.

Shanks laughs, holding up his hands “Okay, okay, okay, you got us.”

Yasopp shouts, “Since when?”

Shanks grins and leans casually against the table “Mmh… A while. Since that one stop in Lougetown.”

“That was months ago!” someone yells.

You peek out, blushing “We were being careful!”

“You wore his shirt” Yasopp deadpans.

Shanks throws an arm around your shoulder “Guess we don’t have to be careful anymore.”

The crew starts chanting something dumb like “KISS KISS KISS!” and you groan again, but Shanks just laughs and plants a quick kiss on your temple, bold and smug.

“Oh you're actually loving all this” you whisper.

“A lot” he whispers back.

── .✦ Bartolomeo:

You didn’t mean to fall for Bartolomeo.

It kind of… just happened.

Between the screaming, the fangirling, the way he glared at anyone who looked at you too long. But somewhere between the nonsense, you found something real.

He loves big. Loud. Unfiltered. But when no one’s watching? He loves so quietly, you can barely believe it’s the same guy.

Right now, you're hiding in the hallway of the ship, tucked behind a stack of crates. Bartolomeo is sitting cross-legged, handing you a rice ball.

“I made it for you!” he says, puffing out his chest “I watched a tutorial. It’s heart-shaped!”

You look down. It’s… more like a lumpy circle, but you smile anyway.

“It’s perfect” you say.

His face turns red “Y/n…” He sways a little, hand over his heart “You’re too kind… I’m gonna DIE!”

You laugh and take a bite.

“Don’t die. You still owe me cuddles tonight.”

“RIGHT. YES. I shall live for the cuddles.”

The secret has stayed safe. So far.

Except today, you dock on an island with a bunch of rowdy pirates who definitely pick a fight before lunch.

You’re in the middle of battle, blocking with a staff, when one pirate gets too close and knocks you to the ground.

You’re fine. A little scratched. But Bartolomeo sees it happen. And then it happens.

He turns.

He screams.

“THAT’S MY BABYYYYYYYYY—!”

Everyone stops.

Even the wind pauses.

You slowly get up. Face blank.

He freezes.

His hand is mid-air, about to use his barrier powers. His eyes wide.

“…Did I just say that out loud?” he whispers.

The entire crew is staring.

Someone goes, “Wait. Your baby???”

You try to speak “Uh—he means—”

“I MEAN WHAT I SAID,” Bartolomeo yells again, fully panicking now “SHE’S MY BABY. MY LOVE. MY SWEET CHERRY BLOSSOM—”

“BARTO,” you hiss “Stop confessing in front of everyone!”

Too late.

He throws his hands up and suddenly there’s a giant heart-shaped barrier around you two. Sparkly. Pink. Absolutely not subtle.

He turns to you “At least we’re alone now.”

You facepalm “There’s a window, Barto.”

You hear cheering from outside.

“THEY’RE DATINGGGGG!”

“PAY UP, I TOLD YOU THEY WERE!”

“DOES LUFFY KNOW?!”

You sigh.

Bartolomeo wraps you in his arms, completely unbothered now “So… secret’s out.”

You look up at him “What gave it away? The screaming or the love bubble prison?”

“…Both?”

You can’t help it. You laugh. He kisses your forehead.

“I love you” he says.

“I love you too” you whisper, even if the entire world hears it now.

After that no one seems to actually care about the two of you.

Weeks later you and Bartolomeo are docked on a chill island when you run into the last people you expected: the Straw Hat Pirates.

Luffy spots you both instantly.

“YO, BARTO!!” he shouts, waving like a madman.

Bartolomeo screams, throws himself to the ground, and starts sobbing with joy.

“LUFFY-SENPAI! I WOULD DIE FOR YOU! THANK YOU FOR BREATHING IN MY DIRECTION!!”

You’re behind him like “Okay, this is fine.”

You greet the rest of the crew like normal. Everyone’s smiling, happy to see you, no one suspects a thing.

You and Bartolomeo agreed before getting there: keep it private. You didn’t want anyone or worse, Luffy finding out. Bartolomeo is just way better when it's just the two of you.

That night, it happens.

“GAME NIGHT!” Usopp shouts “Winner gets free food!”

The crew splits into teams. You get pulled into a round of a random game and of course you end up against Luffy.

Everyone’s crowded around. People are yelling. Sanji’s handing out drinks. Robin and Nami are judging.

Luffy’s up first.

He draws a card and starts flapping his arms.

“Bird!” “Chicken!” “Flying fish!” “Zoro waking up late!”

He gets it.

Then it’s your turn.

You pull your card and immediately drop to the ground, trying to act out a seal (It’s harder than it looks).

People are guessing like crazy.

"Penguin!" "Sea cow?"

Luffy squints.

Bartolomeo, sitting quietly in the back with popcorn, clutches his cup.

He stares at you with so much intensity, it’s insane.

And then it happens... again.

You clap your hands and bounce a little, still acting out the seal.

He jumps to his feet.

“YES BABY! GO! DESTROY HIM!! YOU GOT THIS, MY LITTLE WAR MACHINE!!”

Silence.

Everyone stares.

You freeze mid-flap.

Luffy slowly turns “Wait… Baby?”

Zoro raises an eyebrow “Little war what?”

Nami drops her drink.

Chopper gasps so hard he hiccups.

Sanji says “Wait a damn minute...”

Bartolomeo realizes too late. Hands fly to his mouth.

You’re still stuck in seal position, blinking.

Robin, smiling softly “Well… that explains the way he looks at you.”

You turn to look at him, mad “Do you even try??”

Usopp yells, “YOU TWO?! YOU’VE BEEN DATING THIS WHOLE TIME?!”

Bartolomeo’s face is red as a tomato “I… I didn’t mean to! She was just so cute pretending to be a seal...”

You slap your forehead.

Luffy, wide-eyed, just goes, “Whoa. You’re dating my number one fan. That’s crazy. He even choose to cheer for you.”

You sigh “Yeah. It is.”

And then he bursts out laughing “THAT’S SO COOL!”

The whole crew joins in, laughing, teasing, clapping Bartolomeo on the back. He’s half-proud, half-mortified, but he doesn’t stop smiling all night.

Later, when the chaos dies down, he wraps an arm around your waist and whispers, “Sorry, babe.”

You smirk “For cheering too loud?”

“For waiting this long to yell about how amazing you are.”

You roll your eyes “I liked the ‘my little war machine’ part.”

He gasps “Really?! I was just improvising!”

“Never do that again.”

“Okay but also… you were winning.”

[mostholystuffz]

watching red eyes

@velgryd15 here is ur request ☆

[mostholystuffz]

Bet

sabo x gn!reader

you meet your childhood rival and crush again after thinking you've lost him forever.

words count: 1.2k

tags: spoilers about sabo(?), rivalry, childhood crush, romance, humour, angst, gender neutral

masterlist || ko-fi

The wind rustles through the trees of Dawn Island, carrying the scent of salt and adventure. You stand at the edge of the forest, hands on your hips, glaring at Sabo. He glares right back, that infuriating smirk on his face.

“You’re gonna lose” he taunts, tossing an apple in the air and catching it effortlessly.

“Tch, in your dreams, rich boy” you snap, crouching into position. The goal is simple: first one to reach the river and back wins. But to you and Sabo, this is war.

Ace and Luffy sit on the sidelines, watching the two of you like a live-action play.

“Why do they always do this?” Luffy mumbles, stuffing his face with meat.

Ace snickers “Because they’re stupid kids. And because Sabo’s trying to impress y/n.”

Luffy tilts his head “I thought he hated them?”

Ace shakes his head “Nope. The other day he told me he’s gonna marry y/n one day.”

Luffy almost chokes “What?! But they’re always fighting! And where was I??”

Ace grins “You were sleeping like the baby you are. Anyway y/n has no idea, so it's a secret”

You, of course, don’t hear this conversation. All you hear is the count.

“Three… two… one—GO!”

You and Sabo take off, kicking up dirt. You’re fast, but he’s faster. He always is. It infuriates you. But you push yourself harder, determination burning in your chest. For a split second, you think you might actually win...

Then Sabo’s hand grips your wrist, yanking you back just enough for him to sprint ahead.

“YOU CHEATER!” you shriek.

“Work smarter, not harder!” he calls back, laughing.

He reaches the finish line first, arms raised in victory. You arrive seconds later, seething.

“You’re the worst” you growl.

Sabo winks “And yet, you keep challenging me.”

You huff, turning away. You’ll beat him next time.

Sabo is dead...

The words shatter something inside you. First, he went missing. Then he was gone. Just like that.

You sit on the shore, watching the waves crash against the rocks. You don’t cry, not in front of Ace and Luffy. But at night, when no one can hear, you let the tears fall.

He was supposed to be here. He was supposed to grow up with you, to keep annoying you, to keep winning. You were supposed to beat him at least once.

But now you never will.

So you make a decision. You can't lose another one of your friends, so you’ll fight for Luffy. You’ll help him reach his dream. And maybe, just maybe, that will be enough to at least try fill the hole in your heart.

The world shifts beneath your feet.

You stare, mouth slightly open, heart hammering against your ribs.

Sabo.

Alive.

He grins at Luffy, ruffling his hair, and your chest tightens. This isn’t real. It can’t be. But then his eyes find yours, and the grin falters.

“y/n…”

Your breath catches. He looks older, stronger, but those blue eyes are the same. And they’re looking at you like he’s seeing a ghost.

You don’t think. You act.

With a sharp inhale, you march up to him and punch him square in the face.

Luffy cackles. Koala gasps. Sabo stumbles, rubbing his jaw “Ow. Okay. I deserved that.”

“You’re damn right you did!” you snap, fists clenched “You let us believe you were dead, you absolute asshole!”

He has the audacity to chuckle “Well, technically, I didn’t know I was alive, either.”

You glare “That’s not funny.”

His expression softens “No. It’s not.” He hesitates, then steps closer. “I… I missed you, y/n.”

You swallow hard “Yeah, well. You have a shitty way of showing it.”

Luffy slings an arm around both of you “This is great! Now we can all hang out again!”

Your eyes narrow “I don’t think I want to hang out with him.”

Sabo smirks “Holding a grudge? Come on, I thought you’d grow up by now.”

You scoff “Oh, please. I can still kick your ass.”

“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow “Wanna bet?”

And just like that, it begins again.

It starts small.

An arm-wrestling match at the bar.

“You’ve got noodle arms, Sabo.”

He grins “And yet, I still win.”

A stupid dare.

“I dare you to flirt with the next person who walks in.”

You do. Sabo sulks the rest of the night.

And then the others get involved.

Koala, amused by the whole ordeal, makes a bet with Luffy “I say one of them confesses first.”

Luffy tilts his head “Confess what?”

Franky laughs “About their feelings”

Luffy’s eyes widen “Oh! Sabo’s gonna lose, then.”

Everyone stares.

“Wait” Nami leans in, hoping he knows something that can make her win that bet “why are you so sure?”

“Yeah,” Luffy shrugs “He’s been saying he’d marry y/n since we were kids.”

Silence.

Then, chaos.

You and Sabo, oblivious, continue your stupid challenges. But now, the crew is watching closely, waiting for one of you to slip.

And maybe, just maybe, one of you will.

Sabo leans against the railing of the Sunny, arms crossed, a smirk tugging at his lips “Admit it, y/n. You can’t win anything against me.”

You scoff, tightening your grip on the barrel of sake in front of you “You wish, rich boy” you glare at him, cheeks already warm from the last round “Next bet.”

The crew has gathered around, eagerly watching as you and Sabo go head-to-head once again. This time, it’s a drinking contest, and things are getting interesting.

Luffy, sitting cross-legged beside Franky, grins “Sabo’s totally gonna lose.”

Nami chuckles, taking a sip of her own drink “You think so?”

“He might win the challanges buy he always loses when it comes to y/n, I don't think that changed” Luffy says casually.

Robin smirks “You mean when it comes to his feelings?”

Luffy tilts his head. The crew groans.

Meanwhile, you slam your cup down, staring Sabo dead in the eye. “Still standing.”

He raises an eyebrow “Barely.”

You roll your eyes and gesture toward him “Your turn, hotshot.”

Sabo picks up his drink, but instead of drinking it right away, he grins “Let’s raise the stakes.”

You narrow your eyes “I’m listening.”

“If I win, you do whatever I say for a day.”

You scoff “Please. And if I win?”

His smirk falters for a split second before he recovers “Same deal. I’m yours for a day.”

The crew collectively gasps.

Zoro chokes on his drink. Sanji drops his cigarette. Nami leans forward in delight.

You blink, caught off guard. But then your competitive nature kicks in, and you smirk “Fine. You’re on.”

You both down your drinks at the same time, and for a while, the match is even. But then you see it, Sabo’s fingers tighten around the glass. His eyelids droop for a second too long.

He’s reaching his limit.

You grin triumphantly “You can't win this one, I've trained with Zoro for years... And looks like you’re about to pass out, rich boy.”

Zoro, now at your side smirks.

Sabo felt a feeling of jealousy but he tries his best to stay composed and chuckles, setting his cup down “Nah. Just taking my time.”

But Koala, standing off to the side, shakes her head “He’s done.”

Sabo groans “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

The crew erupts into cheers as you throw your arms in the air “Ha! Suck it, Sabo!”

Sabo sighs, rubbing his temples “Alright, alright. A bet’s a bet. What’s your request, oh mighty victor?”

You pretend to think, tapping your chin. Then, with a mischievous grin, you say, “You have to compliment me every time you speak to me tomorrow.”

The crew howls with laughter.

Sabo groans “You’re evil.”

“You love it” you tease.

His eyes flicker with something unreadable, and for a split second, you swear his smirk softens.

“Maybe” he murmurs, too quiet for you to catch.

The next morning, you wake up to the best sound in the world... Sabo suffering.

“Good morning, Sabo!” you chirp, stretching.

He groans from where he’s sitting, nursing a cup of coffee “Good morning, y/n… my shining spirit of the seas.”

Luffy bursts out laughing “You sound so weird.”

Sabo sighs “I hate this already.”

“Oh, come on,” you say, grinning “That’s not very enthusiastic.”

Sabo pinches the bridge of his nose “You’re breathtakingly annoying.”

Nami snickers “That counts.”

All day, Sabo follows through with his punishment.

“Wow, y/n, your swordsmanship is as graceful as a swan in flight.”

“You’re incredibly skilled at eating three plates of food in record time.”

“I have never met someone as stubbornly determined to make my life miserable as you, and it’s truly awe-inspiring.”

By the time the sun begins to set, he’s exhausted. You, on the other hand, are having the time of your life.

“Admit it” you tease, nudging his shoulder “You’re enjoying this.”

Sabo rolls his eyes, but his smirk is back “You’re impossible.”

“But?”

He hesitates.

But before he can respond, Sanji appears with drinks, and the moment passes.

The crew finally make the bet official: who will confess first?

Koala places her money on Sabo “He’s been head over heels since they were kids.”

Zoro shrugs “y/n’s just as bad.”

Luffy, grinning, throws in his input “But I told you that Sabo already kinda confessed years ago! When we were little, he told Ace who told me that one day, he’ll give y/n their favourite candy ring and make them his spouse!”

Meanwhile, you and Sabo continue your rivalry, completely unaware of how obvious your feelings have become.

But one of you is bound to crack first.

And when that happens?

Well.

The real fun begins.

The next few days on the Sunny are torture.

Things between you have shifted. It’s subtle, but it’s there, the way his gaze lingers on you a little too long, the way your heartbeat picks up whenever he’s near. And, of course, the infuriating way your crewmates won’t stop watching, waiting for one of you to slip.

Sabo, to his credit, acts like everything is normal. You? Not so much.

“Oi, y/n, you okay?” Zoro asks one afternoon, watching you repeatedly stab a piece of meat with your fork.

You blink “Huh? Yeah. Why?”

“You’re massacring your food,” he deadpans.

Sanji, setting down a fresh plate, grins “they’re just distracted. I wonder why~”

You shoot him a glare “Shut up.”

The cook winks “Don’t worry, my beauty, I support you.”

You groan, dropping your fork. Across the deck, Sabo is laughing at something Koala said, and you swear she catches your eye on purpose before smirking.

This is a nightmare.

“Alright, it’s time.”

Nami’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. She and Robin sit around a small pile of gold, each with amused smirks.

“Time for what?” you ask warily.

Koala arrives and grins putting some gold as the others, “Final bets.”

Luffy perks up “Oh! We’re picking who confesses first!”

You freeze “Excuse me?”

Robin chuckles “Come now, y/n. Surely you’ve noticed.”

You open your mouth, ready to deny it, but then Zoro speaks.

“You like him.”

Sanji nods “And he likes you.”

Franky grins “It’s so obvious!”

You sputter “I—what?! No, he doesn’t!”

Nami raises an eyebrow “Luffy literally told us Sabo planned to marry you.”

Your face burns “Luffy told me after we thought Sabo died, but that was years ago! We were kids!”

Brook chuckles “Love has a funny way of surviving, even through death.”

The words hit you harder than you expect.

Even through death.

For a moment, you say nothing. The memory of seeing his boat burn, of grief so deep it drowned you, flashes through your mind. The nights spent staring at the sea, whispering his name into the void. The years spent forcing yourself to move forward, never allowing yourself to dwell on what could have been.

But now, he’s here. Alive. And the feelings you buried long ago are clawing their way back to the surface.

“…I need some air.”

Without another word, you turn and leave.

You don’t realize Sabo follows you until you hear his voice.

“Running away from a challenge? That’s not like you.”

You sigh, not turning around “Not now, Sabo.”

But he doesn’t leave. Instead, he steps closer, leaning against the railing beside you “Alright. Then let’s not talk about their bet.”

Silence stretches between you. The ocean glows under the moonlight, waves lapping softly against the Sunny’s hull.

Finally, you break the silence.

“I thought you were dead.”

Sabo stiffens. You don’t look at him, keeping your eyes on the horizon.

“For years,” you continue, voice steady but heavy, “I had to live with the idea that you were gone. That I would never see you again. And it hurt.”

He doesn’t say anything, so you keep going.

“Do you know what that kind of pain feels like?” you whisper “To lose someone without a body to bury? To stay up at night, wondering if maybe, just maybe, for some miracle, they survived, but knowing you're just to yourself about it?”

Sabo’s hands tighten into fists “…I do.”

That makes you finally look at him. His face is shadowed, but his expression is raw “I didn’t remember my past before the Revolutionaries,” he admits “Not until I saw what happened to Ace. And when the memories came back…” He swallows “I realised many things. I realised I couldn’t save Ace, that I couldn’t help you and Luffy… that I had left you behind.”

Your breath catches.

“I don’t have an excuse,” he says “But I know this... When I got my memories back I realised that I missed you like crazy, y/n. More than I can ever put into words.”

His voice shakes, and suddenly, the air between you feels different. He isn’t teasing, isn’t smirking... he’s serious.

You take a slow step forward “Then why didn’t you say anything? From the start, you acted like nothing happened.”

Sabo meets your gaze “Because I didn’t think I deserved to.”

Your heart clenches “That’s stupid.”

He laughs, but it’s soft, almost sad “Maybe.”

You exhale sharply “You should have told me.”

“I know.”

“I hated you”

“I don’t blame you.”

You take another step “But I also...” You hesitate, then shake your head “Dammit, Sabo.”

He smiles faintly “That’s my name.”

And suddenly, you’re done. Done with the games, the teasing, the bets.

You grab his collar and yank him down, pressing your lips against his.

Sabo freezes.

For a moment, everything is still. Then, his arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, and he’s kissing you back, desperate, relieved, alive.

When you finally break apart, you rest your forehead against his. “You’re mine now, rich boy” you murmur.

He grins “And you’re mine. I've dreamed about this since we were kids”

"Oh I know... I want that candy ring one day"

"OMG WHO TOLD YOU?!"

"Ace told Luffy and Luffy told me... but to his defense he just wanted to make me feel better"

A loud whoop makes you both jump.

You whip around to find the entire crew watching from the deck.

Luffy, grinning like an idiot, throws his fists in the air “I WIN THE BET?”

Sabo groans “Of course they were watching.”

You bury your face in your hands “I hate all of you.”

Koala winks “No, you don’t.”

Luffy bounces excitedly “Hey! Does this mean Sabo’s finally gonna marry you?”

“LUFFY YOU TOLD THEM! YOU CAN'T KEEP A SECRET”

The crew erupts into laughter, and as embarrassing as it is, you can’t help but smile.

Because for the first time in years, your heart doesn’t ache.

Sabo is here.

And this time, he’s not leaving.

[mostholystuffz]

(Accidental) PDA

characters: zoro, sanji, law, ace, kid

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.