#i wish it was this easy for me to get words out like this for my actual fics but alas

[gojoest]

FIRST WORD — girl dad!gojo satoru

girl dad satoru, established relationship (you’re married, it is indicated that you have two other kids besides the little one that appears in this drabble), nanami cameo, suggestive credits at the end (breeding hinted, just to be safe), sry this lowkey sucks + not proofread, i typed it out in 10 mins but i hope you enjoy!

satoru is trying really hard to get his little daughter to say “papa”, but oh well

“come on, my life — say it”

satoru, crouched down before the baby chair where his little daughter is sitting, a picture of his face in one hand while the other alternates between pointing at the photo and then at his face, slowly repeats, over and over, with utmost perseverance and patience, the first word he wishes his little one would utter—

“pa-pa”, he carefully speaks, syllable by syllable. “pa-pa”, and again. “come on, baby — at least you don’t betray me, i know you’re papa’s girl — come on now, say it”, he pleads.

this has been going on for the past few weeks.

your entire house currently looks like the room of a teenager where it’s posters on the walls and little trinkets on the shelves, courtesy of heavy hyperfixations. but instead of posters and trinkets it’s your husband’s face, everywhere. kitchen, living room, hallways, your baby’s room — every-single-where and every-single-surface and wall has the photograph of your husband’s face on it. he even purchased custom-made plushies and toys of himself, some of which are hanging from the musical baby mobile above your daughter’s crib — but instead of music it’s his voice, teaching his toddler through made-up songs how to say ‘papa’.

“satoru, don’t you think this is a little bit, um— “, you once brought up, pausing to clear your throat, trying your best to sound softer while you say this. knowing how sensitive he is about the matter, and how devoted to have this innocuous win — “…too much? hm, love? it’s like you’re… brainwashing the baby…”

lips immediately pursed, satoru pouted under his nose — “easy for you to say, our two other kids said ‘mama’ first — effortlessly, at that. let me have this one at least”

okay, you shrugged and backed off.

and this morning, as you sipped on your coffee, you silently watched your husband in the kitchen — kneeled down before the baby chair, going about his educational routine.

after he was done with the photos, he took your daughter’s hand and pressed her fingers on his lips, while he kept repeating the word ‘papa’. he said that this method allows the baby to see the way your mouth moves as you speak but also hear and feel the sound all at the same time. (he sure has read a lot of things on the internet)

but your little one remained silent, only giggling here and there as she poked around her father’s face, completely refusing to cooperate with him despite his desperate attempts.

it is an endearing sight, really. part of you felt pity for your husband, you cannot lie. he was trying so hard, and for what...

all of a sudden,

the doorbell rings.

“i’ll take it”, you quickly pad over to open the door.

it’s nanami — dropping by with some baked treats for the kids, as he often does. your children love him a lot. during dinner gatherings he always sneaks away to read them bedtime stories. even though he doesn’t look like the type on the surface, he sure has a soft spot for children. and, truth be told, they are all naturally drawn to him as well. maybe it’s his calm demeanor and the sense of safety he brings along with his presence.

“ah, thank you — these look so delicious, i am sure the kids will die for a bite”, you chime, as you guide him into the kitchen.

“oh— nanami, it’s you”, satoru casually points out without even turning his head to greet him, his eyes glued on his little daughter… who seems to be looking elsewhere, past her father…

…at nanami.

a bit bothered by that, satoru shifts a little bit to the side, to block the view — to, once again, be the main focus in his daughter’s eyes. but, alas…

she tilts her head, googly eyes glancing at the blond man behind her father.

she opens her mouth, a giggle first escapes, and then—

“na-na—”, she pauses… “—mi” — a beam of laughter and her hands reaching forward, pointing at nanami.

silence in the kitchen befalls.

you cover your mouth with a hand, trying to prevent yourself from bursting into laughter. it’s tragic but funny at the same time, and you know — in just a few seconds the real baby in this room will not be your daughter.

“nanami”, satoru slowly stands up, shoulders hanging low and voice — monotone and stern. “get out”

p.s.: satoru makes a scene. he is absolutely devastated. you have to drag him away and pick up the pieces and calm him down. and, of course, he thinks — the only way to make things better is to give him another child. a new opportunity…and you need to get down to business, now. while nanami is babysitting downstairs.

[whimsiwitchy]

Controversially Young Girlfriend (part six)

Hugh Jackman x popstar!reader 

series masterlist & main masterlist

summary: y/n is a globally beloved pop star. She is known for her talent and dedication towards her craft. Recently, she has also been known for her preference for older men. After a breakup with her former older boyfriend, she had a run in with the hottest dilf right now, Hugh Jackman. Y/n tried to warn him, but what can she say, she has an effect on hot, older men. 

warnings: age gap (23/55), cursing, y/n used, implied shorter reader, afab reader, she/her pronouns, sexual themes.

warnings will change as the story progresses! all descriptions of real people in this story are FAKE. I do not know these people and this is purely fiction. Please let me know if I missed anything!! <3

authors note: y'all this part absolutely drained me. Idk what it was but I felt so stuck when writing this. I got it to a point where I can start part seven fresh, so fingers crossed whatever happened here doesn't happen again. I hope you all still enjoy it lol <33

part six: because I love you

Waking up in Hugh’s arms was heaven. He was still asleep when you first opened your eyes, his soft snores tickling your ear. You were grateful that he didn’t have those loud old man snores like some of your past lovers had, though you were sure you wouldn’t mind if he did. Gently lifting the arm that was wrapped around your waist, you carefully rolled over to face him. As you studied his resting face, you felt overcome with a deep sentiment of gratitude. He was just as handsome asleep as he was awake. The face that almost always carried a smile was at peace, lips slightly ajar. You adored his face, the deep lines showing a life of joy and laughter. Each nook and cranny aging him beautifully over the years. It made you sad in a way. You wished you could have experienced life with him, wanting nothing more than to have the ‘right’ life with him. A life where your relationship with Hugh made sense and was accepted- but you would gladly take whatever time you could get with him. 

You placed your hand on his cheek, sliding your fingers delicately over the course hairs that covered his jaw. Your chest felt warm. The feelings you had for the man who slept so deeply before you had grown stronger than you’d anticipated, but Hugh made it so easy to fall for him. And you had fallen for him, you knew that now. If one thing for certain came out of this time you’d spent with Hugh, it was that you were unbelievably in love with him. You had always found yourself falling too fast for the wrong people but you had good faith that for once it would be right. For once, you wouldn’t get hurt. You trusted him to protect your heart and to do right by you. You knew he would. 

As much as you wanted to stay and count every wrinkle that laid upon his face, you had to pee really bad. You gave him a soft kiss on the tip of his nose and wiggled slowly out of his grip. You gave him one last look over before heading down the hall to the bathroom. As you sat there, memories of the night before danced around your mind. The way he kissed you, touched you. He made you feel like you were worth something. It was a feeling you weren’t used to, always feeling used by other men and deep down you know that all you were to them was just some young girl to fuck. You never actually meant anything to them. Hugh was different. Being with him felt right. You couldn’t find any other words to describe the feeling. He hadn’t brought you here to have sex,  for once it was you who had made that decision. He bought you flowers and a cake to congratulate you on an achievement that no one else cared to celebrate with you. He cared for you in some capacity and it made you feel horrible, because even with all this confirmation, you still had doubts.

You’ve been fighting a secret battle since the moment he kissed you, the moment everything between you changed. Putting what you were feeling into words felt impossible. What you did know though, is that you were terrified that you wouldn’t be enough for him. Scared that he would snap out of whatever daze he was in and miss the life he had with his wife and kids, the life that didn’t involve you. The life that made sense. 

When you walk back to the bedroom you find Hugh sitting up with his back against the headboard, scrolling through his phone. His glasses were perched on the lower bridge of his nose, threatening to fall off any moment. His eyes peaked over the frames as he turned to look at you. “Morning baby. I was just about to text you, thought you left.” He sets his phone down on the bedside table as he speaks. “Mhm, just had to pee.” You walk over to the bed and climb up, straddling Hugh’s lap. “Why didn’t you use this one?” He jerks his head to the bathroom that’s attached to the room and you shrug. “I don’t know. The vibes of the thirst trap bathroom just feel different.” You joke. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, huh?” He asks, smirking slightly. You shake your head. “Absolutely not.” You affirm and it makes Hugh chuckle. “I was wondering if you had any plans for your last day in the big apple?” His hands rest on your exposed thighs and you become all too aware that you’re still butt ass naked under his t-shirt. “Uhh, not really. I was actually gonna ask if I could hang out with you today…” Your voice is shy. “I was really hoping you’d say that. I might have planned a few things for us.” Hugh smiles and you could feel excitement flood your body. “May I have insight on said plans kind sir?” You put on a posh voice that Hugh mimics. “I’m afraid not my lady, for each destination today is to be undisclosed until further notice.” You drop the bit but not without letting out a deep belly laugh at Hugh’s impressively good accent change. “Can I at least have a little hint so I know what to wear?” He thinks for a moment. “I’m giving you the proper New York tourist day, so wear something comfy.” He pauses. “Maybe wear something incognito. It might be harder to hide than it was the other day.” You hum in acknowledgment. “Do you think I could borrow some underwear or something? I’m feeling a little exposed.” Hugh laughs. 

Your fingers picked at the basketball shorts he let you borrow, tying the strings over and over again as Hugh made breakfast. Small conversation filled the large space and the domesticality of the situation made you flustered. “I’m kinda nervy about the tour. Are you gonna come support me on opening night?” He’s whisking the eggs in a small bowl with a fork and it was oddly attractive. “As long as my schedule allows it, I'll be there. I'd be at every show if I could be.” He looks up and sets the bowl down. “I’d do a lot of things for you, probably anything.” He adds before he turns around to start one of the gas stove burners. It ticks a few times before it catches. “That’s a lot of power to hold and you definitely messed up by telling me that.” You hold your hands up, each finger touching, as you wiggle them in an evil manner. Hugh looks back at you from where he’s moving the eggs around in the pan and smiles. “Don’t get too excited. I said probably anything.” You drop your hands and shrug. “That’s a lot more than I'm used to.” He turns back to the eggs. “Has anyone ever treated you the way you deserve?” The question takes you aback. “I’m not trying to be mean…After hearing some of the things you say and seeing how Pedr-..how he treated you, I’m not seeing anything good. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm confused on how a girl like you has never had anyone treat you right.” He plates the eggs and oils the pan to drop the turkey bacon as if he didn’t drop such a big observation onto you. 

“I uh-...I’m not really sure what to say…I mean I guess I haven’t really had a guy care about me all too much.” He turns to you, staying close to the stove. “I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable. I shouldn’t have said anything.” You shrug. “I mean you’re not wrong. Everyone always seems to give up on me before anything serious happens…but hey that’s the price of being famous and having my taste in men I guess.” He flips the bacon. “I don’t know how I feel being your taste in men then. They aren’t really setting a good reputation.” He jokes but it stings a little. “Eh. I think you’re doing a lot better than any of them ever did. You’re sweet and kind…and unbelievably sexy.” You tried to steer the conversation away from its original content. It works, Hugh laughs. “You should go take a picture in the mirror again and post it. Your fans would love it.” He takes the bacon off of the pan and sets the pieces on a paper towel lined plate. “I didn’t post that for the fans babe. I posted that for you.” Your jaw drops and you draw a dramatic gasp. “I knew it was a thirst trap. Y’know next time you can just send it to me instead of posting it on instagram. I’d love a few more to add to my collection.” 

“Your collection?” He cocks an eyebrow up and you ignore his question. “Do you need my help with anything? I feel kinda useless just sitting here.” You ask as Hugh pulls out a container of strawberries. “It’s okay baby, I got it.” You hum, fingers going back to the strings on your shorts. Hugh washes a handful of berries and dries them one by one. “You’re good at changing the conversation.” He mumbles and lets out a small huff of a laugh. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You look at him with an innocent face. He’s silent for a moment, the only sound being the soft knocks of the knife hitting the cutting board. You watched as each slice of the strawberry fell over as Hugh worked. His hands stop for a moment and you look up at him, catching his eyes. “I just want you to know that I’m here for you and that I truly care for you.” His eyes focus back onto the cutting board. “I know that.” You mumble. “Then let that be a reminder. I want to hear the things you’ve been through. I want to know everything about you so I can be the best version of myself for you.” You didn’t know what to say, so instead you hopped out of the chair and hugged him.

–

After breakfast and after you followed Hugh around like a lost puppy while he got ready for the day, he drove you back to your hotel so you could do the same. You were frantically walking back and forth as you got ready, packing your suitcase as you went along. Hugh was sprawled out on the bed, scrolling through his phone. You picked out a pair of baggy black denim cargo pants to wear but you couldn’t decide between the classic ‘i love new york’ t-shirt you bought your first day here or a maroon turtleneck. “Which one should I wear? I’m leaning towards the new york one but I feel like that’s too touristy you know?” You start speaking as you walk out of the bathroom and hold up both shirts. “If I wear the turtleneck then I can probably get away with not wearing a jacket and I can also wear the converse I have that are in the same color.” You stand at a mirror that is in the hallway, putting each shirt over your chest, comparing them. When Hugh doesn’t answer, you turn to see him staring at you. “Hugh did you hear anything I just said?” He’s sat up on the bed now, no longer in the starfish position he was once in. “Wear the new york one baby. You won’t be a tourist forever. There’s only a matter of time before the city becomes familiar.” He explains. “Mm. Good point. Thank you babe.” You throw the turtleneck on your open suitcase and just as you're about to throw the simple graphic tee over your head, Hugh speaks. “Wait..don’t put that on yet. C’mere.” The last part is mumbled as he holds his hands out for you. 

You set your shirt down as you walk over to him. Both his arms snake around your waist as soon as you step between his thick thighs. “You look delicious right now.” His arms loosen as he pulls you back, taking in your appearance. “Is me not wearing a shirt, turning you on Hugh?” You tease. You almost forgot that you were only walking around in a simple black t-shirt bra. It lifted your boobs surprisingly well for the style and you could tell it was getting to Hugh. “What if I said it was?” He asks, eyes moving from your chest to your face. “If this gets you going too easily, you’re gonna struggle when you see the outfits I perform in.” You laugh. “Mhm. I’m excited.” He growls with a smirk before plunging his head towards your cleavage, kissing up and down the exposed skin. “You’re such a hornball.” You let out in your fit of laughter. He rests his face in the crook of your boobs. You can hear him mumbling something but you can’t make out the words. “Babe, I have no idea what you’re saying right now.” He reluctantly pulls his face back. “I said that we could always stay in today instead…Wanna get another taste of you.” His hands grip your waist and you feel a pulse between your legs from his words. 

“As tempting as that is…and it’s really really tempting. I wanna go out with you today, have some normality before life goes back to normal tomorrow. Maybe we’ll have time before my flight…for what you said.” He smiles and pats your butt. “Okay baby. Finish getting ready so we can go.” You lean down with puckered lips, meeting Hugh’s in a sweet kiss. “I’ll be ready in like fifteen minutes.” You promise as you pick your shirt up and run back into the bathroom. 

Somehow in the short time it took you to get ready, Hugh convinced you to let him take you to the airport. You tried to refuse since you already had accommodations made for the early 3:30am flight but he fought back. He said that it would be easier and we could spend more time together before I left. You agreed, wanting to spend every single last second with the man you loved. He threw your suitcase in the trunk of his car and the two of you were off on whatever adventure Hugh had planned. 

The first stop was at Battery park to see the Statue of Liberty. Hugh surprised you with a ferry ride that took you from the park to Liberty island, then Ellis island. You thanked Hugh non-stop as you boarded the ferry. You were a big history nerd and being able to be around objects and buildings that have existed for many generations of people before you, excited you to your core. Hugh was watching your thrill with a smile, sneaking pictures of you when he could- you never noticed. You did ask him to take a few pictures of you as the ferry moved right in front of lady liberty herself. Your smile was wide, eyes crinkled behind your sunglasses. Hugh held you close the entire time, kissing the top of your head every now and then. He would take you all over the world if it meant he got to see you this happy all the time. 

The whole exploration took about four hours. You were very thorough in your wanding, not wanting to miss a single detail. You apologized to Hugh every time you felt like you were taking too long but he never seemed annoyed or upset, just happy to be with you. Once you were back on the mainland, the two of you were starving and started to discuss places to eat. “I think that Stardust place would be fun but I heard it’s almost impossible to get in.” You don’t mean for it to sound like it was something you really wanted to do. You were just thinking out loud. “I can get us in there baby.” Hugh says, shrugging his shoulders. “Hugh Jackman…are you telling me you’d name drop yourself for me?” You smile. “I told you, anything for you sweetheart.” He raises your intertwined hands to his face, leaving a kiss on yours. “As sweet as that is, I could probably name drop myself and get in.” You smile. “It’s probably not smart for you to go into a place full of theater nerds anyway since you’ve been on Broadway multiple times or whatever.” You joke. “You’re probably right. I am quite the Broadway star.” He jokes back. “Fuck it. Let’s just get pizza again. I've only a tourist for so long, remember?” “Fuck it.” He agrees. 

You find a different pizza shop this time, waiting in the car while Hugh goes in to order. You spent the time looking through your phone. You saw a few texts from Ashley and it made your heart ache. She was a terrible friend but you still grieved the good times you did have. Once you got back home, you knew it was probably for the best to talk to her, settle everything, and get some closure. You thought a lot about loose ends you needed to tie as you entered this new chapter of your life, Pedro being one of them as well. You wanted as clean of a slate you could get as you moved forward with Hugh. 

“God I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I walked in there.” Hugh says as he opens the driver door, sitting two styrofoam cups in the center console drink holders. “Do you mind holding this for a moment sweetheart?” He asks, holding up a small box that had a large brown paper bag sitting on top. You grab it and Hugh climbs into the car. “Would it be too cliche if we ate this at the great lawn?” You ask with a lazy grin. “Maybe a little bit but it sounds like a great idea darling.” He smiles back. 

The drive to Central Park was a short one. Finding a parking spot however, took awhile. Hugh drove through one of the nearby parking garages, going up and down until he finally caught someone pulling out. When the two of you finally reached the lawn, you were a little nervous at the amount of people there but you put it aside, hoping that your sunglasses would be enough to hide you from any possible fans. You found a spot, farther away from the larger crowds. It was peaceful for the most part, both Hugh and yourself to engaged in conversation and eating to care about anything else. When you were both done eating, you scooted closer to Hugh, who then offered you to sit between his legs as he leaned back. Your back was against his chest, lifting with every breath he took. “This is nice.” You say, looking up at Hugh. “It is.” He agrees, kissing your forehead. When you look forward again, a girl catches your eye. She’s sitting not too far off and she’s staring. It makes your heart stop, afraid that she might have recognized you or Hugh. Your suspicion is proved right, her eyes go wide and she lifts her phone, pointing it directly in your direction. “Babe, I think that girl is recording us.” You nudge Hugh slightly to get his attention. He looks in the girl's direction and sighs. “Let’s get out of here.” The two of you walk back to the car, hand in hand. 

“Do you wanna go home or are you still up for one more adventure?” Hugh asks once you’re both settled in the car. The way he says ‘home’ makes your heart flutter. You know it’s probably out of habit but it makes you wonder what sharing a home with him would be like, how being with him officially would be. “I’m down for more touristing.” You smile, trying to let go of the bitter mood that girl had put you in. You didn’t mind fans recognizing you but it always sucked when a good moment was taken away because of it- a moment that would have been normal if you and Hugh were ‘normal’ people. 

The sun was starting to set as Hugh drove and it was beautiful. Seeing the city lights take over was a sight to see. “I thought we were going somewhere else?” You ask in confusion as Hugh pulls into the parking garage of his apartment building. “We are but I thought we could walk, if that’s okay with you love. It’s not too far.” He parks the car in his designated spot. “Yea that’s fine.” His hand squeezes your thigh, a place it often sits as he drives. “Let’s go then.” 

You were convinced there wasn’t anything more beautiful than walking through New York at night. You were never fond of big cities, only living in Los Angeles because you had to for work, but something about nyc brings a sense of home you’ve never felt before. Almost like a sense of nostalgia, a longing for a place that felt right. 

The last stop happened to be Times Square. The second you found a good spot, you passed your phone over to Hugh to take pictures of you. It was a little over stimulating the longer you stood there, admiring all of the giant screens and billboards. You tried to tough it out as long as possible but your last straw was when some guy in a janky super hero suit tried to come up to you. Hugh was quick to grab you and lead you away. “I can’t make up my mind on what’s worse, the con artist in Hollywood or the ones here.” You joke, Hugh laughs agreeing. The streets started to empty the further away you got from the square and you were thankful for that. As you walked hand in hand with Hugh, you started to hum the melody of ‘New York, New York’ by Frank Sinatra. Hugh smiles down at you and releases your hand to pull you closer, his arm resting over your shoulder. “Ooo. Can we go in there real quick?” You ask, pointing at the small grocery market across the street. “Sure baby.” You can tell he’s confused so you answer his question before he can ask. “I wanna make dinner for you.” You look both ways down the street before crossing. “You don’t have to do that sweet girl.” The sliding doors open and you’re hit with the cool air. “I want to.” He doesn’t say anything else as he follows you around the store. When you hit the produce section, you lift the sunglasses that had been sitting on your face for most of the day, creating a makeshift headband. You gather a mix of yukon gold and baby red potatoes, as well as a few carrots and a stock of broccoli. “What are you making?” Hugh asks as you walk towards the meat shelves, grabbing a pack of two chicken breasts. “A spicy, maple chicken sheet pan dinner.” You explain, walking towards the next aisle. “A sheet pan dinner?” He questions. “You throw everything onto the same pan, shove it in the oven, and boom, you have dinner.” He laughs. “I guess that makes sense.” 

Hugh insisted on paying for everything but you refused. He had paid for almost everything else since you’ve been in New York and you had to remind him that you too had too much money than you knew what to do with. He complained about it the whole way back to his apartment, it was kinda cute. When you finally got back, you asked Hugh to gather everything you’d need: a cutting board, a large bowl, a peeler, a colander, etc. You wanted to make sure you had everything so he could sit and watch, just as you had with him this morning. “I could get used to this.” You look up from where you're mixing the veggies and seasoning in a bowl. “What, me cooking for you?” You ask, sarcasm present in your voice. “No, you being here with me.” Hugh smiles. “Oh..” You whisper as you dump the prepped veggies onto the parchment lined sheet pan. “Was that too forward?” You’re patting the chicken with a paper towel and placing them in the same bowl as he asks. “No. I like when you say stuff like that, it just makes me all nervous.” You drizzle the chicken in olive oil and add your choice of seasonings. “Why does it make you nervous?” His elbows are on the counter, hands resting in his hands. “Because someone like you likes someone like me, it’s crazy.” You place the chicken on the sheet pan before placing it into the already heated oven. 

Hugh stands up and walks behind you. His arms wrap around you as you wash your hands. “Is it really that hard to believe that I like you?” He asks, giving light kisses to your neck. “Sometimes.” You wiggle out of his arms to dry your hands on a towel that rests on the oven handle. “I must not be doing a very good job at showing it then.” You walk back over to him, where he’s leaning back on the counter. “It’s not you babe, it’s the voices.” You point to your head. “What are they saying?” You think for a moment. “Do you want the default answer or the real answer?” “The real one.” He responds without a second thought. “I think I’m just scared that all of this is temporary.” You say motioned your arms around. “I’m scared that one day you’ll snap out of whatever it is you feel for me and just…just leave and not want me anymore.” He pulls you into his chest. “I don’t know what I can say or do to break you free from that but I can promise that I won't just leave you. If there ever comes a time where I don't want to be with you, which is very unlikely, I’ll tell you.” You don’t say anything as he holds you. The two of you stay like that until the twenty five minute timer you set is going off. 

—

“Do you really have to leave today?” He asks, rubbing his hands up and down your back softly. After dinner, Hugh went down to fetch your suitcase out of his car. Both of you took showers, separately this time. Now you were straddling his lap, laying forward with your head resting in the crook of his neck. “Unfortunately..” You sigh out. “You can’t stay just a few more days?” He practically pouts and you can hear the sincerity in his voice.  “I really wish I could but duty calls. I jump right into work once I’m back.” This time he sighs. “I’m gonna miss you.” “I’m gonna miss you too.” You give his neck a few small kisses before speaking again. “When are you coming back to LA?” You lift your upper body and rest your hands on his bare chest. “I’m not sure. Got some stuff to deal with here, might take a while.” He lifts himself up, sitting up straight against the headboard, putting you both in the same position as this morning. “Hm. What stuff?” You ask, hands trailing down from his chest to his abs. “Divorce stuff. Ex-wife stuff.” He shrugs slightly and leans forward, his lips meeting your neck as he leaves his own kisses. “Oh..” It comes out more as a moan, Hugh’s teeth nipping at the skin right below your ear. “That must be hard, divorcing after so long together.” His lips falter for a moment. “Doesn’t matter.” He leans back against the headboard. His response made you feel weird. Hugh’s voice was distant. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.” You apologize, letting your hands fall to his shoulders. “It’s okay, it would’ve come up eventually.” 

“We don’t have to talk about it Hugh, it’s okay.” 

“It’s something we should talk about though. It’s not fair to you. You’ve opened up so much to me, I should do the same for you.” You’re silent, not sure what to say. “Does it bother you?”  Hugh asks.

“Does what bother me?” You know what he’s asking but you weren’t sure how to answer. 

“That I was married?” He’s looking at you, but you're looking down at his hands. 

“No.” It wasn’t a lie. Him being married isn’t what bothered you. “Look at me baby.” His voice is stern, a tone that you haven’t heard before. When you look at him his eyes are quick to line with yours. “Does it bother you? Don’t lie to me.” You sigh, hands sliding from his stomach. You rest them on top of his own where they are placed on your thigh. “I wasn't lying. It doesn’t bother me that you were married.” 

“Then what’s up sweet girl? I can tell there's something going on in that pretty head of yours..” The way he’s looking at you makes your heart race. He’s looking at you like you're the most important person in the world, like you mean everything to him. 

“I don’t care that you were married…it’s just..this is gonna sound stupid but..I’m scared of how long you two were together and how recent your divorce was.” 

“What do you mean baby?” 

“Like I said earlier, I’m scared of this being temporary. That I’m just some…god I don’t know…that I’m a rebound or something. That the two of you will realize that being separated wasn’t the right decision.” Your posture breaks as you slump forward slightly. “I knew that she would always be in your life and I’ve been trying to make peace with that…but the thought of you leaving is too much.” You confess. 

“Y/n…What Deb and I had has been over for a long time. It was over years before we finalized anything. Everything now is purely about our kids. I’ll always hold love for her in my heart but it isn’t a romantic love anymore. That love is reserved for you sweet girl, all for you.” His fingers delicately lift your chin. “I’m a devoted man y/n. Once you have me, I’m yours. I promise.” His thumb rubs along your jaw. You lift your pinky and he chuckles slightly. He lifts his own and links it with yours. “Does that mean you’re finally gonna ask me to be your girlfriend?” His eyes widened slightly. “Are you ready to be my girlfriend?” Hugh asks, seriousness fills his voice. “I really want to be.” His eyes soften. “What’s stopping you from being all mine baby?” 

The question is loaded. The answer was full of worries you shoved deep down, hoping they wouldn’t come up as soon as they did. From the moment you walked into his home, you tried your best to ignore the family photos that littered his walls. Photos of him and his wife with wide smiles, their kids standing between them, smiles just as wide. You pushed down every feeling you had as he showed you the rooms he kept for his kids for when they would visit. His daughter's room hurt the most. You saw glimpses of your own teenage years that you’d excited only a few years earlier. His son’s room reminds you that that was the room of a man whose age was more appropriate for you. You’d been reminded non-stop that what you had with Hugh was wrong in the eyes of others, so wrong that you were starting to feel it too.

“Does it ever worry you that our relationship isn’t practical? That it doesn’t make sense?” He makes a face and he looks almost offended.“How doesn’t it make sense? I like you, you like me. You’re happy, I’m happy. What more is there to it?” 

“That’s the thing Hugh. When it comes to you, it will never just be you.” His eyebrows scrunch up. “I'm confused baby.” You sigh. “Hugh, you were married for decades, with kids. What is your ex-wife going to think about you dating a girl that’s thirty three years younger than you? Hell, better yet, what will your kids think Hugh? What are they going to think about you dating a girl that sits right in between their ages?” You rant. “What Deb thinks about us doesn’t matter. She’ll get over it.” His hands give your thighs a small squeeze. “And your kids?” He sighs. “I’m not sure what they’ll think but I’m sure that if I explain it to them they’ll understand. They’re old enough to where you won’t need to be a big part of their lives.”

“I know that babe but I don’t know how I’m supposed to fit into your life as it is. I can’t just show up to the family Christmas parties as your girlfriend. Do you know how fucking weird that will be for me, for them?” His face falls and you know he doesn’t take your words the way you intended. “It would be weird to be my girlfriend?” 

“Hugh, that’s not what I meant.” He goes to move you off his lap but you tighten your thighs to stand your ground. “Babe, you have to understand what I mean. I don’t wanna hide from your kids and Deborra. I want to be a part of your life completely and that includes knowing them.” He stops moving and sighs. 

“This isn’t going to be easy y/n. I know I have baggage and I’m sorry that this wasn’t something we talked about sooner. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to leave and have nothing to do with me.” Hugh lowers his head slightly. “Hugh, I don’t wanna leave you. I’m used to older men, just not ones with ex-wives and kids.” You try to make it lighten the mood, hoping to make him laugh. It doesn’t. 

“Everyone’s gonna hate us if we do this. The fans, your family, probably even my family if I’m being honest. The crazy thing is that I don’t care if everyone hates me but I don’t want to be the reason everyone hates you.” 

Those last words felt like a weight coming off of your shoulders. The words were so simple but had been so hard to say all this time. They were true. You didn’t care if fans turned on you, you didn’t care if your family disapproved, though you couldn’t imagine them disliking Hugh. Selfishly, you also didn’t care that much if Hugh’s family hated you. These were all miniscule issues when it came to you loving Hugh. As long as he was happy, you were happy. But the thought of Hugh experiencing any of that made your skin crawl. You didn’t want him to lose fans he’s had over the long course of his career, you didn’t want to put him through the burden of his family not approving of you and him having to feel the awkwardness every time you were around them. You couldn’t imagine him jeopardizing the life he had built all because of you. You were still building a career. Everyone around you has already experienced you dating men that have no business dating someone your age. You didn’t want to hurt him with the implications that came along with your name and age. 

“That’s not fair to say.” Hugh squeezes your hand. “You can’t put the weight of everything on yourself. If you decide that you want to be with me, then that’s how it’s going to be. You and me. We’ll figure everything out together.” You look off to the side because you know if you look at him the ache you’d been feeling in your throat will betray you. “Look at me.” The hand that isn’t holding yours reaches for your cheek as he attempts to move your face to look towards him. You refuse, already feeling a tear slip down involuntarily. “Baby please.” He tries again and you let him turn your face. A sob escapes, the pain in your neck finally relieved. “What’s wrong y/n? You gotta talk to me.” His voice is sweet and patient. All this man does is care for you in a way that you’ve never experienced before. 

“I don’t wanna hurt you and your family Hugh. I don’t want them to suffer, all because I love you.” You sob. “You what?” His hands drop down to your knees. “I love you, Hugh.” You try your best to get the words out through the steady stream of tears. “Do you mean that baby?” He asks softly as one hand comes back to your cheek, wiping a few tears away. “Of course I mean it, that’s why I can’t leave you. I feel so selfish because the smart thing would be to walk away so no one gets hurt but I can’t. I love you too much to let you go.” 

“I love you y/n, so much.” He pulls you in for a kiss. “Really?” You ask with sad eyes. “I’m pretty sure I fell in love with you the moment I met you baby. You looked so pretty that day and your voice was like a siren's call. I tried to fight the attraction but when you invited me to your album party, I didn't care anymore. I wanted you.” You grabbed his face at the confession, pulling his lips to yours. You both let every emotion spill into the kiss. “Does this make you my girlfriend now or are we still friends that hook up and love each other?” He asks jokingly with a dopey smile. “As much as I want to say yes, talk to your kids first. Please. I think it would make me feel a little better about everything.” He kisses you. “I’ll talk to them tomorrow.” 

—

Leaving Hugh felt impossible. Not knowing when you’d see him next and him being around his ex-wife without you here to distract him made you nervous. You trusted him but when it came to you or the woman he was married to for twenty seven years, it was hard to say he'd choose you. Even after his reassurance, you had a feeling she would always come first. 

“Are you sure you can’t come with me?” You ask as you hug him, the two of you in the same hidden room from when he picked you up. “I really wish I could baby. I’ll try to get back out there as soon as I can.” He kisses the top of your head and the two of you stay there for as long as you can. “I should probably go.” You say reluctantly. “Yea, you should.” You give him a few quick kisses. “Don’t leave me waiting too long. I’ll be waiting for you.” You smile at him before giving him one last kiss. “I won’t, sweet girl. Text me as soon as you board and when you land okay?” You grab the handle of your suitcase. “I will.” You start to walk towards the door that leads out to the public but before you go out, you turn towards him one more time. “Bye Hugh.” You give him a small wave. “Bye baby. I love you.” The words make you smile. “I love you Hugh.” You give him one more wave before you walk through the door.

thank you for reading!

series taglist: @chronicallybubbly @spideybv28 @pear-1206 @robertthehoover @reidsworld @bloody-bunni666 @quillycrow @kythefangirl25 @bluetimeombre @cskidjgsjaoaknayan52782 @thewiselionessss @annagraceevanss @peterparkernotfound @rogueinmymind @samsamsantos @wolviesgirl @white-wolf-buckaroo @weskerussy @marvelgirlie-4 @honey-ros3ss @nonamevenus @nizem8 @chaimshelii @rockerchick05 @starryeddie @saylak @haytchee @godlypresley @mega-kittyglitter-1 @acescutejeans-1247 @bethexo07

*taglist closed*

[moonstruckme]

7K!!!!!! And a birthday!!!! What a day!!!!!

For the celly can I please request “frozen peas pressed against a fresh bruise” with tasm!peter? Pretty predictable of a pairing but I just love how you write him

What a day indeed!! Thanks for requesting angel

cw: mention of blood, bruises, and general violence (not being inflicted in the scene)

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 685 words

Peter is lucky you don’t faint at the sight of blood. You tell him as much, which makes him chuckle, which makes you both wince as the cut on his lip reopens. 

He’s blooming with bruises. You can tell they’re going to be bad—they already are bad, but you know they’re going to get worse. You’re doing your best to mitigate the damage with what you have on hand. There’s a slice of plastic-wrapped cheese laid across the less severe bruise on his jaw and a bag of frozen peas pressed as delicately as possible to the darker one across his temple. Peter could probably hold either of these himself, but he’s decided to busy his hands with the edges of your pajama shorts and leave the work of nursing to you. 

“How’d you get this one?” you ask, stroking your thumb close to the one on his temple. 

“Same guy.” Peter’s voice is light, though you can tell he’s hurting by the way he’s barely moving his lips. “I think his main plan was to try to knock me out.” 

You feel your face scrunch, sympathy for your boyfriend and disgust for his attacker warring in you. He coils the drawstring of your shorts around his finger and smiles at you with the working side of his mouth. 

“It didn’t work.” 

“Maybe you should’ve stayed down,” you mumble. 

“That wouldn’t have really been consistent with the whole ‘neighborhood protector’ thing…” 

“Who were you protecting this time, though?” You aim for lightness, but the question falls with unintended weight between you. You rub your lips together, looking at the peas instead of him. “It was a carjacking. I mean, it still sucks, but nobody was being physically hurt except you.” 

“Hey.” Peter’s voice is soft, teasing. He strokes a thumb over your thigh. “You should see the other guy.” 

You expel a breath. It aches a little coming out. “I just…it feels like you put yourself in danger tonight for nothing.” 

You’re still not quite looking at him, but you see his eyebrows scrunch in your periphery. The levity saps from his expression. “Sweetheart, I wasn’t in any real danger. I always make it back, don’t I?” 

“Barely,” you murmur, softer than soft. 

“I’ll be good as new in a couple days,” he assures you. “Super strength and super healing and all that, remember?” 

“I know. It’s scary when you come back like this, though.” 

“Hey.” Peter taps your thigh. You look at him, and he rewards you with a little smile. “It’s not like it happens all the time. These guys were waiting for me. They knew I was coming and they got the jump, but that’s not, like, a regular thing.” 

“I know,” you say again. “I just wish you’d pick your battles sometimes. If no one’s getting hurt, and you are getting hurt, maybe it’s not always worth it. You could at least consider leaving things be some of the time.” You smile back at him, and it’s a bit watery. “The cars will be okay.” 

Peter looks back at you for a minute. You look down, embarrassed—you’re not even the one getting hurt, what right do you have to get all emotional about it?—but you can still feel him studying you. After a while, he says, “Okay.” 

You blink. “Okay?” 

He smiles. Not like he’s consoling you this time, but like he can’t help it. “Yeah, baby. I don’t want to scare you for nothing. So I’ll try” —he sighs— “to pick my battles a little bit. Sometimes.” 

You feel teary again. “Thanks,” you say thinly. 

Peter’s brows hook in the middle, his hand moving up to hold your hip as though to steady you. “Sure,” he says softly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know it was freaking you out so much.” 

You laugh, shrugging and wiping wetness away from your bottom lashes. He pouts. 

“Kiss?” 

It’s an easy request to oblige. You kiss Peter on his top lip, the good side, but when that’s not enough for him and his bottom lip splits again anyway, he says he doesn’t mind.

[stoopakoopa]

Day 8 - Reunion

Drew out a little snippet from @donze-trash's fic for @mesdelostrescaballeros2024!!

Part of a larger continuity being uploaded on ao3! Read it below ⬇️

Donald pulled up outside the apartment where Panchito was staying and took a deep, fortifying breath. Of course he was excited to see his friend again! Of course he was excited for The Three Caballeros to be once more reunited, even if only for a day. There was just that one catch—he felt bad even calling it a catch, like it was somehow a bad thing that he and Zé had finally professed their love for one another—but it would always be awkward telling Panchito. Surely, the duck thought with an internal groan, things would unavoidably change within the trio.

To make it all worse, José had been away on flight shifts when Panchito arrived in town, and Donald had agreed to only break the news when his new boyfriend had returned. He was a terrible liar about this kind of thing: his tongue got all tied up and his beak chattered when he spoke. How in the hell was he supposed to—?

The Donald Duck Pity Party was cut short as sharp, energetic chatter caught his ear from the street: Panchito was being seen off and heading straight for the car. Donald flung himself toward the back seat, toward the gift José had planned to hand over today, and hastily threw a spare blanket over it. The thick, scratchy wool did a decent job of concealing the obvious shape of a brand new guitar, at least if you didn't pay it mind. They'd give it to him when they were all together. That's how they were supposed to do things. Together.

Panchito appeared, waving goodbye to someone before bounding out of the apartment complex. His face lit up when he saw Donald, and before Donald could even get a word out, Panchito had leapt into the front seat, pulling him into a bear hug. His wide sombrero wobbled dangerously, but he didn't seem to care.

"¡Ay caramba, amigo! What took you so long to get here?" Panchito exclaimed, yanking Donald into his arms despite protest from his seatbelt, all to kiss Donald's cheek with his usual enthusiasm.

"'Ey, Pancho! How you doin' amigo?" The duck choked out, finding it a little easier to act natural amid the strangulation.

Panchito released Donald to pinch his cheek playfully. "Better with you here! I've been working on that new song I told you about last night! What about you? What have you been up to all day?"

"I'm doin' swell! And nothing much! Been taking 'er easy today." He lied, and not well—he was already talking too much. "Excited, though! Not every day I get to hang out with my two best pals!" Donald pulled away from Panchito's hold in order to return his attention to driving, feeling too awkward to linger in the warm hold, however much he usually would.

The charro clicked the seatbelt into place and leaned back in his seat, apparently unfazed by the duck's haste. "Ay güey, I'm just hyped that we are finally getting together again for a change. So, what are we doing this time? Are we gonna hit up the club so hard we get kicked out again? Or maybe reopen the Magical Mythical Monster Petting Zoo from Scrooge's secret vault? Or how about we raid the Anvilania embassy and get the ambassador drunk again? You know she still calls me." 

Donald nodded, absolutely not absorbing anything the rooster was clucking about in favor of focusing on the road. He was happy, of course; his friend's exuberance was infectious to say the least. It had indeed been too long since they got to hang out like this as a group… but a part of him still felt tense. He chanced another glance at the vaquero—oblivious, humming merrily, a long leg resting against the door as he propped up his foot on his knee and took up what little space his seat offered. He wished he could feel so carefree.

When they arrived at the little airport, Panchito's excitement was hard to miss. Before the car could even finish pulling up to the 15-minute zone, he'd unbuckled and bolted out of the car window, running ahead towards the tarmac and calling out for Zé at the top of his lungs.

"Yeah, don't wait up or nothing!" Donald called after him with a roll of his eyes. Crazy bird, he hadn't even put the car into park yet!  The lighthearted atmosphere Panchito had cultivated was at war with the impulse to complain bubbling inside him because he wanted see Zé first, to get a chance to hold his boyfriend first before they had to act respectably platonic in front of their none the wiser companion. It wasn't jealousy, not exactly, just…

One hug, one second to let the weight of the week melt off was all he wanted. But that wasn't happening. Not yet. Instead, he'd have to wait and keep playing the part.

"Great," he muttered, jerking on the car's parking brake. "Just act natural. Simple."

The airport, while always abuzz with people from all walks of life and from every corner of the globe, was relatively less hectic on a weekday like this, and José was all the more grateful for it. Deplaning the small jet from Panama was fairly routine and done quickly, leaving Zé with a little free time before he met up with his friends. He brought with him his single suitcase, loaded with more clothes than his usual amount, plus some souvenirs from Brazil and the several other countries he had stopped in during the work week. There were things for the kids back at the manor, plus a homemade gaúcho style poncho pala made by his vovó for Della (whom the old bird had assumed was still freezing from her time on the Moon).  Strapped to the outside of the suitcase (because it could not fit) and wrapped in cloth was José's gift to Donald, a new hammock for his houseboat. He hoped he would like it.

Walking to the exit, Zé attempted to steal himself for the reunion to come. Not so much for seeing Donald, though his blood ran quick with excitement for him to be sure. But Panchito, whom he had not seen since they met for that ill-fated holiday to Bahia that never came to fruition. They had kept in constant contact even after their break up, though it caused pain on both sides. They had been determined to preserve their eternal friendship even in the face of romantic disappointment. And though it took some years for Zé to be able to look the rooster in the face without the unbearable ache in his chest urging him to take it all back and try again, he never wanted to lose sight of what drew him and the other two Caballeros together in the first place. They were his family, no matter what happened.

Even when I act like a stupid teenager and run crying to my ex-boyfriend about my hopeless crush, which turned out to be not so hopeless after all because we're together now and— Merda!

Zé closed his eyes and inhaled slowly. It was very good that he had this spare moment to compose himself as he entered the airport proper.

The distant sound of a familiar crow cut through the din of the crowd, stopping Zé in his tracks. That voice—there was no mistaking it. And like the call to sunrise, it made his heart want to leap into the sky. Spotting a tall flash of red, and a hat that he insisted was too big for his head, standing tall amongst the crowd, Zé dropped his suitcase and his umbrella and ran forward like his tail was on fire. Before he even had time to think about it, he was launching himself into Panchito's arms. The rooster caught him instantly, just like old times.

"¡¡AAAAAAJAJAJAJAJA!!" Panchito's triumphant grito echoed across the terminal. His grip was tight, almost desperate, and his wide grin spoke volumes. Zé could feel the emotion radiating from him—Panchito had missed him more than words could ever say, that much was clear. His whole body seemed to hum with excitement. 

"José!! Mi cielo!" Panchito crowed, his voice overflowing with affection as he slowly, reluctantly, released the green parrot. 

Zé smiled warmly, returning the sentiment. "It is so good to see you, docinho!" His tone was as light and affectionate as ever. "It has been too long!"

"No manches, pendejo, it's only been a few months!" Panchito guffawed, his eyes sparkling with unfiltered happiness. His grin stretched wide as he shook his head in disbelief, the warmth in his expression unmistakable. The man was an open book, his emotions always worn on his sleeve.

The malandro chuckled softly, adjusting his hat. "Well, yes, but it has been twice as long since the three of us have been—" He stopped, scanning the area. "Espere, onde está o Donald?" 

Panchito's expression shifted briefly—a flicker of realization, maybe impatience. He glanced back toward the car, where Zé knew Donald must still be catching up. The vaquero's elation had clearly driven him to rush ahead, leaving their other friend behind. Zé could almost feel the mixture of emotions brewing under Panchito's playful exterior, a familiar tug of longing buried in the joy of reunion.

But Zé knew better than to bring that up. He simply smiled again, his voice calm, teasing. "Always in a rush, eh  mano?" 

"Life is too short to sit still," the rooster replied assuredly, and his hand which still rested on his waist in a half hug pulled him in for just an instant, a punctuation to the point. 

"Hey, ya found 'im! Over here, guys!!!!" a distinctive voice cut through the busy hum of the arrival hall and Zé immediately turned towards the sound, his heart immediately catapulting into the stratosphere.

"DONAL'!" he and Panchito shouted in unison, their voices echoing across the platform. The moment the malandro caught sight of Donald looking flustered and determined as ever as he weaved through the crowd, all the excitement, the nerves, the longing came rushing back to him. He broke from Panchito's hold to sprint to him with ever increasing urgency, his heart pounding not from exertion but from sheer jubilation.

Quickly he closed the distance between them, throwing his arms around the sailor and pulling him into a tight embrace. He fit into his arms perfectly, and for a moment he didn't want to let go. Donald absorbed the impact with ease and let Zé down safely, the rest of the world seeming to melt away in an instant. Zé quickly buried his face into Donald's shoulder, feeling the comforting weight of his lover's arms around him. There was relief, adoration, and an overwhelming sense of peace. Even for just a fleeting moment, everything felt right—like he was where he belonged.

"Meu querido..." Zé whispered softly, just for Donald, though he didn't linger on the words. He knew this interlude was fleeting.

Sure enough, as if sensing their private moment was up, Donald's voice broke through their quiet intimacy. "Panchito...?" Donald called, one arm still wrapped around Zé as he extended the other towards their rambunctious rooster to include him.

Zé was too distracted with cuddling up to his sailor's side to register the gleam in Panchito's eye, at first. As it was, it was only the loud, triumphant yell that signaled their impending doom, and the parrot felt he had little choice but to make sure he didn't endure it alone, his arm holding his duck in place.

"No, wait—!" Donald started, but it was too late.

Panchito came down hard from where he had launched himself into the air like a luchador delivering his finishing move. Elbow extended, he crashed into the two of them with the energy of a firecracker bursting on impact. Donald let out a choked WAK! of surprise, his arms flailing as he was knocked clean off balance. Zé, caught in the middle of it all, simply accepted his fate with a laugh, not even trying to brace for the collision.

They tumbled down in a heap of feathers, beaks, and limbs, Zé wedged between his two best friends, both of them piled on top of Donald, who lay sprawled at the bottom. He could feel Donald wheezing beneath him, dazed from the sudden assault, while Panchito—of course—was perched victoriously at the top of the pile, leaning on one elbow like he owned the world.

"Órale! ¿Que te pasa? You were supposed to catch me!" Panchito chortled, looking entirely too pleased with himself as he flashed a wide, playful grin down at the both of them. "I could have gotten hurt!" 

"God forbid…" Donald rasped weakly.

Zé couldn't help but chuckle, even as he lay squashed in the middle. Completely unconcerned by the chaos, he wiggled into a more comfortable position between them, his head resting against Donald's back. He could feel the frantic beat of his partner's heart beneath his cheek, could hear the shallow breaths as Donald tried to recover. There was no tension, no frustration. Just pure, unbridled affection. Even in moments like this—especially in moments like this—Zé felt nothing but love for the both of them.

This was how it had always been with the three of them. Chaos and laughter, roughhousing and tenderness, all tangled together in one messy, beautiful friendship.

"Well, caras," Zé sighed contentedly, "it is good to be back where I belong."

"Where, with all of ya on top of me?" the sailor beneath him groaned, barely able to get out a full breath with all the pressure bearing down on him.

Don't tempt me, the malandro thought before immediately shelving it for later.

[linkemon]

About some things Jing Yuan likes (Jing Yuan x Reader)

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here. Consider supporting me on Ko-fi. You can also check out my commissions if you’re interested.

Other oneshots can be found here.

ᴀ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ ᴏꜰ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴀᴠᴏᴜʀɪᴛᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ (ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ) ɪɴ ᴊɪɴɢ ʏᴜᴀɴ'ꜱ ʟɪꜰᴇ, ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅɪɴɢ [ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ]…

Jing Yuan likes challenges

— I asked to not disturb me! — [Reader] shook her head at the papers. 

— Yes, but…— the employee began with an impatient expression on her face. 

— Who is it this time? — The woman ran her hand over her face. 

Was it that hard to block the doors of a respected guild? Leave her alone with a stack of Xianzhou Alliance documents? She didn't feel like breathing in the dust for the rest of the day but someone had to take care of the deliveries. Even if it meant dealing with the grumpy merchants who came here to air their grievances. 

— It's the general... 

— Jing Yuan — [Reader] finished, not very enthusiastically, seeing the man on the doorstep. 

The general seemed full of energy. An unusual sight, considering his sleepy nickname. This time he was not dozing off at all, approaching her desk with a flourish. She could do nothing but sigh theatrically, for the umpteenth time that tiring day. Especially since she saw a handful of employees casually peeking through the large doors and small windows. They listened, pretending to concentrate. Thirsty for gossip, as always. 

— To what do I owe this visit? 

Jing Yuan smiled in his usual way. He looked like a child ready to commit a mischief here and now. His white hair fell unruly over his forehead. 

— You haven’t responded to my proposal — he said, frowning. 

He didn't look like someone who hadn't expected this. Quite the opposite. Like the fun had just begun. 

[Reader] could have sworn her employees' ears grew in seconds. They were going to love this show. She was sure of it. 

—I'm used to serious proposals being made face to face. — She made a pyramid of her fingers and rested her chin on them. 

The letter from the general sat quietly in her desk drawer. She had read it several times but she wouldn't give him that satisfaction. At least not right away. Although she had to admit that it was a set of incredibly charming words. It was hard not to melt when reading about her virtues on elegant, coated paper. Especially when the envelope still seemed to smell like its original owner. 

— How serious is a marriage proposal? — The man narrowed his eyes. 

The group of people behind them looked like they had just seen a ghost. One of the workers grabbed her closest colleague by the arm and let out something like a quiet, barely suppressed squeal. 

— I understand you’re here to fix your mistake? — [Reader] asked teasingly. 

— I’m ready for anything — he said, looking her straight in the eye. 

— Oh, yeah? It's dangerous to say things like that when you're one of the arbiter-generals... 

The employees rolled their eyes as if watching a wildly interesting game of chess. The crowd seemed to be getting thicker, people from other departments were arriving. They had long since outgrown the massive doors. 

— I will beg on my knees — saying this, Jing Yuan lowered himself to the floor. 

He didn't look like someone who wanted forgiveness. Or someone who had given up. More like someone who had just made an attack and was waiting for his opponent to respond. The general was having fun. 

— Apology accepted but if you thought it would be that easy, you're sorely mistaken. I'm giving you — she put her finger to her cheek, feigning thoughtfulness — three dates. Convince me it's worth it and I'll consider your offer.

Mischievous sparks danced in his golden eyes. 

— Your wish is my command. — The general took her hand, kissed it gently and moved back toward the door. 

— Get back to work! — The crowd dispersed immediately. 

The building filled with loud discussions. 

Jing Yuan likes chess and Yanqing

The separate part of the headquarters was located far from the watchful eyes of prying politicians. The tiny garden was surrounded by walls separating it from the rest of the world. People without direct connection to general rarely visited it. Therefore, the surprise of the young adept was all the greater. 

— Think about defense or you’ll lose in the next ten moves. — Yanqing turned at the sound of a familiar voice. [Reader] was standing behind him. — Eyes on the board or the general will eat your pieces when you’re not looking! — she added. 

Jing Yuan let out a low, deep laugh. The boy knew him well enough to know that it was sincere. Different from the ones the master gave certain people who sought his favour. It was mostly done for political reasons, which must have been tiring. Yanqing understood why it was important but it didn't change the fact that he himself never wanted to be in such a situation. Perfecting his martial art and cutting through the air with new blades was much more interesting. Not to mention how lonely the life of a general seemed to him once he got to know him better. Surrounded by people but at the end of the day used for specific purposes by everyone around him, including Yanqing himself. That was why when the rumors of an alleged marriage proposal reached the adept's ears, which had shaken several offices, including the headquarters, he wanted to laugh. He figured it had to be some kind of set up. Something that would bring tangible political benefits or allow him to catch some threat to the Xianzhou Alliance. He changed his mind only when a familiar name appeared on the lips of one of the employees. [Reader]. If anyone could truly turn the general's head around without any strings attached, it could only be her. The woman standing behind him now, at the sight of whom the teacher made something called googly eyes. Liquid gold laughed along with his lips. 

— You can join us. You’ll see that I’m an honest man — Jing Yuan gestured the guest to the red, ornate cushions. 

— You are an honest man but you definitely don’t play fair. — Saying this, [Reader] sat down next to Yanqing. 

The general nodded. He began pouring the recently brewed tea. The silence was broken by the sipping from three hand-decorated cups. The game was still going on. 

[Reader] whispered something in the ear of the apprentice, who withdrew his hand thoughtfully. Eventually, he made a move with a completely different piece. The situation repeated itself a few more times. General watched the funny conspiracy of turning around and trying to escape his gaze. He had to admit that it was incredibly funny and very unfair of them but at the same time enjoyable. Perhaps that was why he didn't feel any anger at seeing his defeat. But was it a real defeat if he gave them a head start? Yanqing seemed unaware but [Reader] gave him a look that suggested she saw through him. If they were playing alone, he would have heard a good talk by now. However, the woman looked at the young apprentice sitting right next to him and rejoiced with him at his victory. Even if she knew it wasn't real. 

— I can't believe I finally made it. — The boy looked at the board as if he was seeing it for the first time in his life. 

— The moral of the next lesson is that cooperation is extremely important — Jing Yuan said. 

The adept, however, was no longer listening to him. He gathered himself in the blink of an eye and ran, as he suspected, towards the training ground. 

— He’s a good boy — [Reader] said, following him with her gaze. — Ready for some real competition?

— Of course. 

Jing Yuan likes animals

[Reader] glanced around the room. Her eyes scanned the room for anything of interest. The guards at the door had been informed that she was coming and they had silently left her in one of the many vast rooms belonging to the arbiter-general. Her gaze swept over the rows of gilt-framed paintings that lined the long hallway. Here and there, she spotted antiques but overall, Jing Yuan wasn’t exactly a sentimental man. Even along the way, she didn’t see any personal items. She could have expected that from someone who had erased their memories to avoid the influence of the mara but there was something slightly sad about it. 

In a split second, something warm and wet appeared under [Reader]'s hand. She screamed and jumped back as if scalded. The heavy body pinned her to the ground. It smelled of meat. Whiteness covered her world for a moment. She heard something about a snow lion amidst the smacking. Only after a loud sigh did she hear Jing Yuan's clear voice: 

— Mimi!

The lioness moved away reluctantly. 

From under the drooling face, [Reader] could finally see the culprit of all the commotion. Up until now, she had only heard stories about her. Wave Treading Snow Lion — that was the full name of the giant cat. At least, that was what she seemed to be when Jing Yuan was tricked at a young age. The vendor swore that she was a real grimalkin but little Mimi grew and grew. The boy could barely cover the cost of meat for her. They even started calling him a Gluttonous General, thinking that he ate everything himself. Over time, the cat's name stopped fitting. However, that didn't mean that she reacted the same way to the new one. If he really wanted to get her attention, he had to use the old one. 

— I apologize for her. She hasn't met anyone new in a long time. — The General offered her his hand. 

His hand left a pleasant warmth behind. He held it a second longer than befits a gentleman. The thought alone made her want to smile but the wicked smile on his face made her stop. He knew exactly what he was doing. He liked to play games like that. 

— You’re doing a better job of raising Yanqing than her — she joked, standing up. 

— It's hard to disagree — he said, handing her a hand-embroidered handkerchief. — Come with me. I'll show you the garden.

The lioness wouldn't give up. She nudged her owner with her nose. Blue eyes stared pleadingly at the general. He stopped and lowered himself to her level. After a moment, the white fur became one with Jing Yuan's hair. With his outfit, it was hard to tell where the animal began and the human ended. Until the pink tongue went straight to meet the familiar face. 

— We make a good team. Now we can be covered with saliva together. — She handed him the tissue back. 

She almost screamed for the second time that day. A new shade appeared among the ubiquitous white and a very mobile one at that. The finch poked its head out from just above the man's head. 

— How many more animals do you have? — [Reader] asked, petting Mimi, who looked at the bird enviously. 

— I am not an owner if that's what you're asking. The finches come here from time to time, when they feel like it. — The bird hopped onto the general's shoulder. 

— And you let them walk all over you? — she asked. 

It seemed as if the animals were climbing on Jing Yuan's head not only metaphorically but literally. 

— They’ve been trying to build nests but so far I’m doing okay. — The finch tilted its head, just like the general.

— Then let's go to the garden with your... menagerie — she finished uncertainly. 

Jing Yuan likes [Reader]

— What are you talking about? — Jing Yuan asked in disbelief. 

— That's it! She's been kidnapped — Fu Xuan said irritably. 

The woman sighed loudly. Why did she have to deliver such news? She wasn't some errand boy. She had other things to do. Including predicting what would happen to the entire nation and taking the place of the general when he abdicated (she couldn't wait for that to happen). In the meantime, she was forced to watch as the pillar of the Xianzhou Alliance melted before her eyes. In a few seconds, however, he straightened up and moved with a spring in his step towards the door. His walk turned into a run in the blink of an eye. Fu Xuan managed to hear something about the guards being called. From the balcony, she saw a group of knights running out to meet their doom. It was unlike Jing Yuan to be so hot-headed. If only he had listened to the end, he wouldn't have run like a fool. The crisis had been averted. 

She strained her ears. The conversation from the courtyard could be heard quite well despite the city noise. 

— You were kidnapped and I’m just finding out now? — Jing Yuan’s voice was slightly offended. 

The remark was not directed at anyone in particular. He blamed himself most of all. 

— I just got back. — [Reader] gestured to the small group of workers trotting along behind her. — Most of them need a doctor.  

A shadow of disbelief passed through the general's eyes. They set off towards the infirmary. On the way, he was given a brief report, although technically the matter was in no way under his jurisdiction. The guilds would deal with it. 

They were all kidnapped because of the merchants' dissatisfaction. Kidnappers went to the first office they saw, although further investigation will show whether it's true. The hostages escaped because one of the kidnappers didn't close the window properly enough. The employee who managed to get out of it notified the nearest knights' unit. The rest was just a matter of time. The whole thing was over in just a few hours, so no one even had time to make official demands. 

Jing Yuan watched [Reader] closely. This wasn't the Dozing General. This was another side of him. The one which acted when the need demanded it. Giving orders to those around him and organizing them. 

The medics began to bustle among the patients. 

— Apart from a few bruises, I’m fine — she replied, feeling his intense gaze on her. 

— Maybe someone should check it. — Jing Yuan didn’t seem convinced. 

— You can kiss it better. It'll probably go away faster that way — [Reader] joked before he could call over any of the medics. 

The eyes turned to liquid gold for a moment. She recognized the mischievous sparks that danced in them. The white locks of hair moved dangerously close. [Reader] felt Jing Yuan's warm breath on her face. He looked like a snow lion. Ready to play and pounce at the same time. The general's gaze shifted to her lips. 

— I meant my bruises — she added, more quietly than before. 

— Of course you did — he replied. 

He didn't look convinced. Eventually, though, hesitantly, he cupped her cheek and placed a gentle kiss on it. 

— As far as I know, I’m completely healthy here — she replied sarcastically. 

— You have a giant scratch here — Jing Yuan assured. 

— Let's say I believe you. 

She looked around the room. Most of the workers had already received medical care. She breathed a sigh of relief. 

— You know this is our third meeting since you took the bet? — The general changed the subject. 

He looked like he wanted to ask another question but ultimately refrained. 

— That's a coincidence, which means it doesn't count at all. We'll have to continue to make it fair — [Reader] said. 

—Well, if you say so, I guess I can’t argue. — A familiar smile appeared on Jing Yuan’s face. 

[shootingstarwritings]

A Single Kiss with Matching Singlets

part 2/2

Coach Reynolds was an older man and head of the wrestling team. Standing tall and clearly proud of the team he had led to victory year after year, he intimidated most of the other coaches throughout the state. He was stern and assertive on the wrestling mat, yet patient and forthcoming in his office. Many former members of the wrestling team described him as having an ‘uncle-like’ air. Not quite immediate family, but trustworthy nonetheless. At least, that’s what Kyle gathered about the man.

Appearance-wise, he was an older, bearded, and hairy man with years of experience. He was the former champion during his days in university, and he reminded the team of that at the start of every new semester. Though the coach had grown a slight gut as he aged, not a soul doubted the muscles one could gain only through years of dutiful devotion to the sport. Perhaps he wore such tight shirts and jackets to accent the body he was so prideful of.

“It’s rare to see you so talkative,” the coach said, not looking up from the documents he was filling out. He sat by his deck with a pair of rarely-seen reading glasses.

All I said was, “Can we meet in your office after practice? I wish to talk about something personal.” Just how little does Zack even speak?’ The more time spent in Zack’s body, the less Kyle understood about him.

“So,” began Coach Reynolds. He removed his glasses with a swift and practiced flick of his wrist and set them down on the table. Smiling with the warmth that someone who was a father to his students, he asked, “What can I help you with? Come to think of it, this is probably the first time you wanted to talk to me like this. What brought this on?”

“Well, um…” How was he supposed to react? It wasn’t easy, staring at the man who was essentially his romantic rival. At first, Kyle went through a barrage of excuses to distract the coach, but he found it difficult to come up with a lie as he stared at the coach’s genuine and questioning eyes. How Kyle wished that the coach had Namba’s shaggy hair to cut off the eye-contact.

Lowering his gaze, Kyle’s eyes locked onto the golden band that Coach Reynolds always wore proudly wore to work. Kyle knew the story. They had split a few years ago, but Coach Reynolds still wore that wedding ring. Whether it was loyalty or denial, he wasn't certain. “I wish to talk… a-about love.”

Chuckling, Coach Reynolds relaxed and shifted back into his seat. “Love, huh?” he said with a playful smirk. Kyle could tell that the coach had been waiting for someone to ask him about that. “Well, this ol’ dog could certainly teach ya some new tricks. Have a seat, let’s hear you out.”

“There’s someone I love, but they clearly love someone else…” Kyle began like that, and then continued. On occasion, he would accidentally slip and say, “he,” while speaking, but aside from a curious eyebrow raise, the coach didn’t interrupt. Was it another of Zack’s quirks that influenced Kyle, or was Kyle simply waiting for someone with coach’s demeanor to influence him? Whatever it was, it certainly seemed to help get his mouth moving and his lips flapping.

Still, Kyle felt himself able to speak freely. Calmly. Not only that, but he felt… heard. Namba would sometimes tease or cut in to talk about his own opinion, but coach’s gentle prodding and listening was far more effective. “And… and that is all,” finished Kyle.

“Well, that’s certainly the intense revelation you gave, Zack,” the coach said, each word carefully measured. “But! That doesn’t mean I don’t have any advice to give you. Don’t worry, I’ve got just the thing for you.” He stood up and wandered over to his desk, giving a great view of his ass hugged by those gray sweatpants he always loved to wear.

Kyle definitely preferred Zack, but he couldn’t deny just how hot the coach was. He had seen the man sweating it out in the gym when he wasn’t coaching the players—and he loved seeing the coach drench his clothes with sweat. Kyle couldn’t help but wonder how the coach smelled. As Coach Reynolds stood up and walked over to his file cabinet—just what was he searching for?—Kyle silently stood up and made his move.

“Sorry, coach,” said Kyle with Zack’s voice as he wrapped both muscular arms around the coach’s meaty frame. As Coach Reynolds began to panic, Kyle leaned into his ear and whispered, “I do think you’re a great man, for all that’s worth,” and made his move. Exiting through Zack’s trembling torso, Kyle forced his spiritual essence to phase through the coach’s back and into his core.

Like a puppet cut from its strings, Zack fell on the ground, unconscious after over a day of not being in control.

Coach Reynolds, on the other hand, remained standing and trembling as he felt a student’s essence overpowering his own. “N-No, get outta… nrgh…! Outta me!” Coach Reynolds reached out for the door, but his legs were already under Kyle’s control. Then, his own arms betrayed him as they gracefully shed off his sweatpants, shaking his hips the whole time. ��The fuck…?” was all he managed to say as his cock, bulging beneath his used jockstrap, flew at high mast and began to leak precum. His bare ass shivered as a breeze blew through the office.

Coach Reynolds struggled and moaned as he tried to reclaim control over his body, but it was too late as Kyle grabbed his shirt and windbreaker and tossed them off. Clad in just a leaky jockstrap, Kyle explored the coach’s wonderful body in the privacy of his new office. Zack continued to sleep, even as Kyle let out a roar of pure ecstasy and blew his first load all over the office, some drops even landing on Zack’s open and drooling mouth.

“I can see why you think this hunky piece of ass is your ideal man,” Kyle said, smirking as he flexed and kissed Coach Reynold’s bulging biceps. “I’ll have a bit of fun with him before asking you out on our little date.”

~o~

Sitting down on the booth of a burger joint, Tim scrolled mindlessly through a phone that wasn’t his until the burly Coach Reynolds sat down in front of him. “Ah, if it isn’t my favorite coach,” he said, putting his phone down and resting his chin on his hand, smirking. “How’s the body feeling?” He took a quick whiff and chuckled. “Already beat one out or two?”

Kyle’s eyes widened. “How did you now? You got some kinda bloodhound nose or something?”

“Nah, but Tim’s got a sharp sense of smell. Probably cuz he doesn’t wanna get glasses.” Namba shrugged. “Already ordered for ya, by the way. Asked for the, urgh, the bacon triple burger," Namba's borrowed nose wrinkled as he said that.

“Oh, thank god. Dunno why, but Coach Reynolds’ body is constantly craving meat. Was about to go insane with hunger once I was done with a quick workout and jerk-off session. I haven’t had a single fruit or veggie all day. Not even a snack. Just craving meat, meat, meat.”

Namba chuckled. “A strong soul like the coach’s will naturally force more of his personality onto you.” Grinning lewdly, Namba lifted up his shirt and rubbed Tim’s toned and distinctly hairier core. “You have to tame these hosts we’re using. Usually, you gotta force them to submit, my friend.”

“Submit?” Kyle tilted his head. He had thought that jerking off was enough to wrangle coach’s soul. At the very least, shouldn’t the possession itself be enough to force someone’s soul to submit?

When Kyle asked that, Namba wagged his finger, letting Tim’s shirt fall and regaining some semblance of modesty. “No, no. This is why you’re to remain a novice without someone like me to teach you the ropes, kiddo.”

“Don’t call me that when I’m in this body,” said Kyle, lowering his voice. “People’ll give us weird looks.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I put up a few precautions before you arrived.” As if to illustrated his point, Namba climbed up the table and lied on top of it before peeling off Tim’s cargo shorts and throwing off the shirt in just a few quick motions.

Kyle looked around, but nobody came to protest. Not even any of the staff. In fact, looking over at the staff on the counter, none of them were moving. Not even blinking. “What…?”

“Time bubble. Advanced stuff,” said Namba in between moans as he started to touch and pleasure himself. Tim’s boxers-briefs were still on, but didn’t seem to care. He still caressed and licked every bit of Tim’s body he could reach, occasionally rubbing the cock beneath the fabric as a dark spot began to form. “In public places like these are a great way to tame unruly hosts, y’know. How about we make sure that our host bodies enjoy the remainder of our three days?”

Kyle stared at the scene before him, hunger temporarily forgotten. Already, he could feel the testosterone in Coach Reynolds’ body working overtime as he beheld Tim’s naked and tempting body. “I-I… sure. Sure, let’s do it.”

“Well?” Namba spread Tim’s legs, his feet hanging off the booth’s table. “What’re you gonna do to me, coach?” he asked with a playful sincerity. “I thought we were just gonna eat together?”

“Oh, I’m about to devour the snack before me, all right,” said Kyle as he stripped himself, having already had plenty of practice with it. Coach Reynolds’ used jockstrap was the last thing he took off, and he twirled it on his fingers and a few times while playfully slapping Tim’s hole with his erect cock.

“O-Oh, now that’s a keeper…” said Namba, his expression, while still smug, growing a bit concerned. “A-Are you sure that’s gonna fit inside of me, my friend? T-Tim’s not exactly used to stuff up his ass.”

Kyle leaned in, chest resting against Tim’s own, and he said, “I’ll stretch it out real nice for ya, kid. Once I’m through with ya, you’ll be able to fit a whole cucumber inside.”

A tiny dribble of precum launched from Tim’s cock and landed on his stomach. Namba gulped and said, “Go for it.”

Kyle went was slow at first, just to make sure Coach Reynolds’ cock didn’t hurt too badly. Whenever Namba would groan in pain, Kyle would caress his cheek or give him a calming kiss as he pounded Namba’s ass.

“Ngh…! Oh, f-fuck…!” said Namba, writhing in Tim’s body as Kyle thrust in and out Tim’s tight ass. The table creaked and moaned from the sheer force that Kyle was using in the coach’s body. “F-Fuck me harder, c-c’mon!” Namba shouted, his eyes fluttering from the sheer pleasure and strength Coach Reynolds used. “We-We’re really doing this in public? Ohhh, you’re such a pervert, coach! Wh-What if someone walks in?”

Kyle forced the coach’s body to grin. “What’s wrong, Tim? ‘fraid that someone’s gonna see how much of a slut you are?” he said, punctuating ‘slut’ with a particularly deep thrust. Another strong shot of precum launched out of Tim’s cock. Namba reached down to jerk himself off, but Kyle slapped his hand away. “Oh don’t worry, boy. I’ll make ya cum hands-free!”

He lifted up both of Tim’s legs and slung them over his shoulders. With every thrust, he would pull him by the ankles to get just a tiny bit more leverage. Namba seemed to be enjoying it, as his hands gripped the sides of the trembling table until his knuckles were white.

Inside, however, was a different story. “N-No, not in public,” the voice of Coach Reynolds said inside of him. Kyle nearly stopped, but he was far too horny and far too deep inside of his new fucktoy. “G-Get out of me. This is my body!” There was a bit of pressure from inside of Coach Reynolds’ body, but Kyle didn’t mind.

“You’re mine,” Kyle found himself saying, flexing on his arms and enjoy the rippling muscles as he posed and increased the speed of his thrusts into Namba, who looked like he was about to fall unconscious. “This is my fucking body, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it! I’m a fucking stud of a man that does nothing but breed young men, and that’s the truth of it! This is who I am!”

“Yes, coach! It’s who you are!” Namba joined in, staring up in the ceiling as his mind continued to experience unbelievable pleasure. “Ohhh, breed me! Breed this hairy hole I got just for you.”

“I’m gonna breed ya and mark ya. Fuck, fuck…! I’m, I’m gonna—WOAAAAHH!” Kyle let out a cry as his climax reached its peak, and he blew his load and coated all of Tim’s inside with the coach’s thick cum.

“Holy fuck, coach!” Namba cried out as his own cock, still untouched, shot its own load. Most landed on his borrowed chest, but a few shot far enough to land on his face.

Coach Reynolds’ voice became softer and more quiet as Kyle continued to dominate his body. “I-I’m… This is your body. Use it as you like...” Coach Reynolds’ voice said before finally becoming silent.

So… I tamed him. But what does that even mean? And, is it bad that I want more? thought Kyle.

“Mm… tasty,” said Namba, knocking Kyle out of his thoughts. He reached down and scooped up some of the cum with a finger and licked it. “Tim never gets any less tasty. Though I think it’s my essence making him so delicious.” Chuckling, he lied back, head resting on his hands and hole overflowing with cum. “Drink up this sight, my friend. This is what we get with magic. See how rewarding this is?”

Kyle nodded, thoroughly exhausted. He sat down on one of the booth seats, rubbing his sore thighs. “That was… amazing!”

“Amazing and so much more, my friend,” said Namba. “So, what will you do now? Visit Michael or…?”

Nodding, Kyle said, “Yeah, that was the plan. But, honestly…” he hesitate before finally saying, “I was thinking… what if I stayed in coach’s body? What if I made this permanent?” It had only been a day and a few sexual experiences, but the urge to never leave was slowly becoming more and more attractive to Kyle. “Is that even possible?”

Namba cocked an eyebrow, his smile disappearing. “Yeah, but… you sure this is the body you want? Don’t get me wrong, it’s not a bad body and all, but this is a big decision. And…” he let out a thoughtful hum, tapping his fingers on the table. “I can make it for sure, but not yet. Probably not until the semester’s mostly over. Until then,” he grinned and ruffled Coach Reynolds’ short hair, “I’ll keep cooking up some of that concoction for the two of us. Build that little relationship with Michael while I research for a way to make this sorta thing permanent. And, prepare yourself. You’ll be leaving your life behind.”

“And you? Are you gonna take over someone permanently? Like Tim?”

Namba shook his head. “I wanna take over someone hot and rich. Tim’s just a nice ride to chill out in for a few days.” He flexed Tim’s much lither body and ran his hands down his torso. “In the meantime, we gotta finish up our lease and this semester, my friend.” Namba looked down at his watch. “You got one more day until my next concoction, what’ll you do?”

Now it was Kyle’s turn to grin. “Whaddaya think? I’m gonna win over my new love."

~o~

Walking around in Coach Reynolds’ body felt like a reward of its own, so Kyle elected to do that to head back to his office. Zack was long-gone, believing he had just passed out while coach asked him to stay behind for a brief talk. With the office clear and most classes done for the day, Kyle sent an email to Michael asking him to meet up to discuss the team’s future as well as discussion regarding the next captain.

As he walked back, Kyle thought back to what Namba had explained. Their hosts wouldn’t remember exactly what happened while being possessed, but their experiences would leave little marks on their souls. It wouldn’t be anything significant without repeated possessions and behavior adjustments, but it had its merit. “It’ll make it a lot easier for us to take them over. Though I’ll probably hop inside someone else,” Namba had told him. “But you can even influence their behavior even while you’re not inside.”

I could probably get coach to keep seducing Michael while I’m not inside of him, thought Kyle, a spring in the coach’s step. Then, once I take over coach forever, I’ll already be in a relationship with Kyle. It seemed so perfect that Kyle had little belief it would ever fail. With that, he soon arrived.

Michael was seated on a bench right outside the office, but brightened up once he noticed Kyle approaching. “Oh, hey coach!” he greeted with a radiant smile that Kyle knew would soon enough be reserved only for him. “Dunno how of much my experience is gonna mean much, but I’m more than happy to help out!”

With a hearty, almost fatherly, chuckle, Kyle patted Michael on the back and assured him that, “You’re far more helpful and valuable than you think, Michael.” Slowly, he allowed his hand to slide just a bit further down before pulling back. “C’mon, we’ve got a lot to talk about.” The rest of the visit was full of small touches and mild flirting and winks. Michael would flush at most of Kyle’s light advances, but didn’t shy away from it.

Throughout the next few weeks, Kyle would use the coach’s body to tease, caress, and flirt with Michael, who subtly invited them in. Towards the end of the semester, during the final of their little meetings, Michael said, “Are you flirting with me, coach…?” There was a longing tone in his voice as he looked up at Coach Reynolds’. He was hesitant, nervous, embarrassed, and hopeful.

Just how long had Kyle waited for Michael to see him like that? He wasn’t sure, but he knew that, at least, that time was at an end. With Coach Reynolds’ thick fingers, he gently guided Michael’s chin for a passionate, sensual kiss. Kyle’s borrowed tongue guided Michael’s more inexperienced one, and the two soon collapsed into a pile of tangled limbs. “I’ve waited so long for this day,” said Michael, unknowingly voicing both of their thoughts.

~o~

The day arrived. Namba served two bowls with a concoction that somehow smelled like lilacs this time. After agreeing to keep in touch, the two went their separate ways—towards their new lives. Namba went to his rich uncle’s company while Kyle paid one last visit to Coach Reynolds’ office.

Brimming with confidence, he knocked on the door and shouted, “Coach, daddy’s home!” without a hint of shame. So much had happened this semester, and now he was ready to finally embrace the future as someone new.

Coach Reynolds opened the door with dread on his face. “G-Get away from me,” he managed to utter, even as he allowed Kyle to strut inside. He shut the door and began to strip his clothes. It made the possession much easier. “H-How are you doing this…? What is happening to me?” Just speaking with his own will seemed to be a challenge for him, let alone resisting the power of Namba’s concoction.

Kyle walked over and planted a kiss on the coach’s neck. “This is your destiny, coach. This is how your story ends,” he said, placing two of his hands on both of coach’s pecs. His hands began sinking into his body as though Coach Reynolds was nothing but a pool of water. He let out a low groan, trembling. “And this is how our story begins.”

Pushing Coach Reynolds against the wall, Kyle slowly forced his way inside of his future and permanent body. “N-No! Get outta me, kid! D-Don’t do this!” Coach Reynolds clutched his head with both hands, almost ripping off his hair as he felt Kyle’s consciousness and memories swallowing his own. It was as if he was being consumed from the inside out. “You’re g-gonna kill me… I’m disappearing… N-No, please stop…!”

“You won’t die,” said Kyle. By now, most of his body was inside of the coach. All that was left was the top part of his torso and his head that awkwardly hung from coach's burly chest. “We’re becoming one, coach. Isn’t it great? You can feel it, right? How pleasurable this is for us? For me?”

Coach Reynolds grit his teeth, but soon his arms fell limp by his sides. “Y-Yes… this is hot for me,” he admitted, both ashamed and aroused as Kyle’s essence began to bind with his own. As two souls became one, Coach Reynolds became convinced that he was Kyle, that he was another half that was returning home and becoming whole. “Keep it up,” he moaned, thrusting in the air as Kyle fully dove into his body. “Ahhh! Oh, fuck! Oh fuck, oh fuck!”

Coach Reynolds slid down the wall and fell to his knees, his whole body trembling as a merging of souls occurred inside. Memories of pleasure, pain, madness, and ecstasy all blended together into a cocktail of euphoria until, “HOLY FUCK!” The new Coach Reynolds let out a guttural roar of pleasure as he achieved the most intense orgasm of his life—and the very first of his new life. Streams of cock shot high into the air. One, two, more and more until he lost count. He came his entire load until he was shooting blanks, hips still thrusting into the empty air until he just collapsed on his side, entire body alight with a pleasurable soreness.

There was no need to explore his new body, Coach Reynolds was already accustomed to it after half a semester of taking it over. He just stood up on shaky legs and stretched. Kyle was gone, but he wasn’t at the same time. A new being was born, but he still carried the name Coach Reynolds. The old coach wasn’t gone, either, but it was mainly the one who used to be Kyle in control. The new Coach Reynolds put his clothes back on and checked his phone.

One message from Michael, asking the coach when their first official date would be. Coach Reynolds smiled and gleefully began his brand new relationship to celebrate his brand new life.

[caitlinsgirl]

Reader drunk texting caitlin

Summary: caitlin and the narrator are childhood friends. narrator joins coworkers on a night out despite not wanting to go.

Word count: 820ish

author's note: something quick i wrote while wasting time at work <3 thank you sm for requesting it's very inspiring

tags: alcohol, clubs, taylor swift

 A Rose by Any Other Name is a Scandal

            Another night, another boring night, another lame night surrounded by folks who could not care less about me. The loud speakers of the club project a bass that shake my bones. My third martini glass sits heavy in my hand as I stare into space. I wish to be anywhere but here. The high-pitched blabbering of the people from my work cut through the noise, but it still sounds like a lump of gibberish to me. I would rather spend my night with anyone but them. Well, maybe not anyone…

 

           How easy it is to agree to plans with people who are not remotely interested in anything I have to say in an important setting. As if showing up to the club in a pretty dress and getting hammered in front of these people would make them appreciate my contribution more when the workweek starts again on Monday. At least God has given me the brief relief that they appear more engrossed with whatever nonsense the other has to say, rather than remembering I tagged along and sit just a few feet away.

            I down the rest of my drink and get up from my seat to approach the bar. I’m sure another one would make this night a little easier for me to stomach. Just one more. The bartender notices me and his mouth moves, as if asking me a question. The noise makes it impossible for me to make out what his words are, but I nod in hopes that he is asking to make me another drink.

heyyy hows it going so far?

            My phone lights up with a message from one of my dearest girls, I mean friends, I mean she is a friend who is a girl… nothing inaccurate about that. On the speakers, the song ended and a familiar tune starts up loud as ever: It feels like a perfect night, to dress up like hipsters… Seriously. It's like the world is taunting me.

            they're playing ur song at this club

            My fourth drink in front of me appeared as if it was out of thin air. The retreating bartender appears like a vanishing magician from this angle. His latest act: fueling my future hangover. My stomach buzzes with butterflies and alcohol as I stare at her contact name on my phone: Catilin Elizabeth.

She had asked me to hang out with her earlier in the week, only it was after I had already made plans with these coworkers. I felt obligated to stick to my original commitment, despite heavily disliking my coworkers and greatly liking…

what song?

            I always felt I was too obvious around her. The media has recognized me as a friend who is constantly around Caitlin, the ordinary girl who attends every home game, and often attends away games. To her, the gleam in my eye registers as nothing more than the look of one of her oldest friends. To the observant fans on the internet, they recognize the almost life-long longing that I have yet to admit to myself. It started when we both bonded over our shared love for Taylor Swift as young girls. Over a decade, I sent her links and lyrics of my favorite songs that reminded me of her. My excuse: she likes these songs, too.

            wise men once said wild winds r death to teh candle

            a rose by any otherrrr name is a scandal

            My fingers poured out the words from the latest song that has been on my mind. It feels impossible to admit the way I feel, not to her, not to myself. Caitlin goes through enough scrutiny in the media. If I said what was in my heart out loud, it could end really, really, really badly. Earth-shatteringly horrible. If we had a falling out and the world found out one of her life-long friends stopped showing up to her games, they would run with the worst assumptions to paint her in an evil light, like they always have.

theres no way theyre playing that one in the club rn 🤣

            I started giggling into my cup at the sight of her message, like a crazy woman standing on the corner of a street. The alcohol causes my vision to darken in this already-dim establishment. Electricity runs up and down my stomach and I cannot tell if it is from the martinis or from her.

            shes the albatrossssss 🦅she is here to destroy you

okay, do u want me to pick u up now?

            I looked back at my coworkers, who disappeared into non-existence. Are they seriously bar hopping, without even asking me if I wanted to tag along? If I had a ride? If I felt okay being left alone here?

            they lef tme alone here:(

fucking morons

i'm on my way

            Neither of us can admit the feelings in our hearts to ourselves, let alone to each other. But I cherish the quiet understanding intertwined in her knee-jerk reaction to drop everything and come save me.

thank u my pretty lady

[nethhiri]

Chapter 59: Eye Eye, Cap'n

Warnings: "medical" "procedures", Heat gets something stuck in his ass

Milling about the infirmary, you made a list of things you needed to restock on. If it were an emergency, you could probably make them, however you preferred to keep your devil fruit reserved for your prisoners at the moment. You were starting to understand Wire's preference in clothing. You had no choice but to commandeer his fit since your pants were ruined. There was no question you could have fixed those too, but once you tried on Wire's fishnets, out of curiosity, you didn't want to. Instead, you decided to add his tiny shorts, which were much less tiny on you, yet stretchy enough not to fall down. His mesh bralette-like top had to be adjusted a bit to fit your body. Once everything was on, you couldn't deny that you felt very sexy. 

There was a touch of a strut to your step as you paraded around your domain. When your eyes touched the place where Kid had upset you, your step faltered. Failing to push it from your mind, your heartbeat sped, thinking about it had been causing you quite a lot of anxiety. You were still angry, but no longer seething. It was reasonable to assume Kid would be safe in your presence, however not guaranteed. You knew you would have to face it soon. All you needed from him was a sincere apology and reassurance that you were something more than easy sex. You wanted to believe it was just something stupid he had said, and it most likely was, but you needed him to say it for you to fully forgive him and put it behind you. You wished it was easier being romantically entwined with him. With Killer it seemed so easy. Why couldn't it be like that with Kid? Or was it normal with Kid, and Killer was the abnormality? Relationships, if you wanted to call whatever you had with them that, were an enigma to you. 

You leaned against the counter and took a short break. You had gotten into your feelings again and needed to clear your head. Tears pricked your eyes at the thought of not being able to forgive Kid. Fuck him for making you soft. You wanted badly to go back to the way things were, but you were not going to compromise your self-worth. When you first stepped on the ship, you were fearless and confident. Lately, you had been feeling like part of that was lost when you were in captivity. You were struggling to regain it. This anxiety of being wanted and accepted was undermining your composure. Maybe that was it. Maybe caring about it was the thing that was undermining your usual confidence. Before, you couldn't have given less of a shit about the Kid Pirates, and now you gave a lot of shits. 

A timid knock at the door interrupted your thoughts, fortunately. 

"Yeah?"

Heat shuffled in awkwardly. 

"Hey, Heat. What's wrong?" You immediately clocked his discomfort. 

He seemed to look around to make sure no one else was there. 

"It's okay. No one is here." You went to the door to lock it and double checked that the one to Kid's workshop was still locked. "You can tell me." As Heat approached, there was a low humming noise. "What is that noise?" 

Heat faced the floor, fidgeting with his hands. 

The noise emanated from Heat, specifically his abdomen. Your eyebrows furrowed, as it sounded familiar. When you realized what it was, your eyes went wide and darted to his face. "Heat!? Are you serious?"

"It was an accident. Please don't tell Wire." 

"I won't say a word to anyone." You sighed. You didn't have plans to be elbow deep in someone today, but here we were. "There's a few things we can try, but let's start with the easiest."

You had him lean over one of the gurneys and drop his pants while you put gloves on, the long ones. A few other things, like lubricant and a mild analgesic cream, were also grabbed. Hopefully, that was all you needed. If it was further up, you may need to use your fruit. You stood to the side of him.

"Cold hands," you warned as you parted his cheeks enough to put some of the cream on his asshole. Then you lubed up your hand. "I'm gonna need you to relax as much as possible, hun. I'm going to see if I can reach it manually. I may need you to bear down at some points, okay?"

Heat nodded, clearly embarrassed. This is not how he imagined you inside him. 

"Tell me if it hurts. Ready?" After another nod, you gently pressed a finger inside him, using the vibrations to guide you. Luckily, the vibrator he used wasn't very far up and he was lubed enough from whatever he had been doing that your finger easily reached the base. Your clean hand rested on Heat's lower back, gently patting him for comfort. "You're doing great. I think I can feel it." 

Gently, you retracted your hand enough to add a second finger. You paused as he tensed, waiting for him to relax again before going forward. Holding them in a scissor shape, you grasped the base of the sex toy with your fingers. "Push. Not hard, please." When Heat neared down, the base was pushed more firmly into your grasp and you tugged just enough to make it move. "Keep doing that." 

With a soft whimper from Heat and a sloppy, wet noise, the dildo was free. Heat let out a relieved sigh. 

"It's a boy!" You said, presenting the lube-covered thing to him, still vibrating. "Good thing it was a skinny one." You turned it off and tossed the thing in the sink. Heat stayed still while you cleaned him up with a warm washcloth. "All done." 

Heat pulled up his pants. "Thanks, Doc." His face was red with embarrassment. Half from the incident that had happened and half because he was a little turned on by it. Did he just discover a new kink? Did he like playing doctor? Or maybe he liked seeing you in Wire's clothes. 

"What did we learn?"

"Tapered bases are important for a reason." 

"If it happens again, I may have to give you a lesson on how to play safely." You winked at him. "Now take your fake dick and scram."

"Sorry, ma'am. Won't happen again." Heat darted from the infirmary, shoving his vibrator in his pocket so no one could see it.

You went back to what you were doing, grateful to have your thoughts filled with wondering how Heat managed to get that stuck up his ass, instead of thinking about real feelings. Mini snorted in a judgy way from her napping spot against the back wall. 

"Everyone does it once! Don't bully Heat. That's my job." 

She snorted again and let her head rest on the floor.

Your list was fairly long. You had used up a lot of the supplies on yourself, or they had been used on you when you were incapacitated. You weren't even sure when the Victoria would docking at an island. If you were on speaking terms with him, you could ask Kid. You could have asked Wire the previous night but you were otherwise occupied. Killer hadn't been around for a minute and certainly, you were not going to ask Heat while you were knuckles deep in him, not that you had thought about it then. 

You tapped your foot, staring at a bare corner in the small room. Something could fit there. Now that you knew you could restore things, as long as they weren't rotten to the point of no return, maybe you could start saving spare parts. Kid could build you a fridge no doubt. Killer may even have an old one to spare. You could harvest the more important parts from prisoners and replace them when one of your own crew was injured. You didn't even need a refrigerator technically. You could put everything in formalin like your eye had been in, though it would take a lot more effort to get it in working order. The fridge would be better. A deep freezer could work as well. You would have to test that to see if freezing affected the parts too much.

A metallic, rolling sound caught your attention. You rolled your eyes watching silver nuts and bolts stream across the floor. Not this again. Still, you felt your face get hot. It was the little things like this that made Kid so charming when he waned to be. Per routine, you knelt on the floor, watching them form words and shapes. 

COME HERE.

You rearranged them: WHY?

MISS YOU.

More like he missed your pussy. There wasn't enough material to spell that though. AND?

LO- He started to spell something and then the metal bits quickly scattered and rearranged. WANT 2 SEE U.

WHY? You arranged the pieces in reply. 

This time you heard muffled yelling from the other side of the door. "OH FER FUCK SAKE, WOMAN!" It was followed by banging on aforementioned door.

"WHY SHOULD I OPEN IT?" You yelled back.

"RAGHHHH." Kid's loud, exasperated yell was followed by stomping footsteps fading away and then getting closer, but in a different place. Kid flung open the actual door to the infirmary.

Startled by the stomping, the dozing boar in the back of the room suddenly became alert and ready to defend her master. Did she "accidentally" mistake Kid for an enemy? Did she have a grudge against Kid in the first place? Had she always wanted to headbutt Kid full force? Either way, Kid was barely one step in before a flash of brownish-red flew by you. You heard a grunt and a whoosh as the force of Mini's head knocked the air from Kid's chest. You took off running after him, realizing a little too late that Kid was flying over the edge of the ship, and you were following him down. Instinct made you chase him. You were completely focused on seeing if he was okay, and not at all focused on where he was headed. You should have been laughing your ass off at the railing watching that dumbass sink until Killer undoubtedly jumped to save him, but no. You cared too much and now you were destined to sink with him.

You saw the water below explode and froth as Kid's broad body hit it. The water swallowing you whole before you could register what was happening. At least you had taken a full breath before you were enveloped by the icy, cold sea. Kid had nothing. When your hand touched something soft, you grabbed onto it and pulled closer, immediately recognizing it. At the same time, something curled around you in an iron grip. The poor visibility in the water made it impossible to see more than a few feet in front of you, and the salt stung your eyes. Still, your mouth found Kid's and you pushed half the air you had into him. Here you were again, always giving him something of yours, trying to prove yourself. His stupid ass better appreciate you giving him a few more minutes to realize that. 

Any second now Killer would be yanking you both out. Any second now. Except you were both still sinking.

He was coming to get you both right? What if no one saw you go in? You clung more tightly to Kid's feathered cape and you felt Kid's other arm wrap around you in a protective embrace.

It felt like forever because of the adrenaline. In reality, it was only a few seconds. Your muscles started to burn from the lack of oxygen. Kid grabbed your arm, positioning it in front of you and turning it so the bottom side of your forearm was up. You stared at him, confused. With his other hand he made your head look back down at your arm and gestured for you to watch. With a finger, he wrote across your skin. You could barely see what he was writing, but you could feel it. 

S-O-R-R-Y

A mix of emotions flooded you. The first was relief, followed by longing. An apology was all you wanted. The second was anger. Why did it take a life or death situation to spur him on? Then you were guilty. That probably wasn't true. You had been ignoring him and pushing him away. Maybe he intended to say it earlier and you had been too hard-headed to accept that. Lastly, you were scared. What if he was only saying it because you were near death? Did he know something you didn't? He pulled you back into an embrace, suddenly pushing you away from him after a few long seconds. What was he doing?! You stretched, reaching out for him, and were yanked upward. You tried kicking at whoever was pulling you away, losing some of the air you had left in a flurry of bubbles, but were too weak. You covered your mouth and nose to keep the rest of the air from escaping.

As soon as your head broke the surface of the water, you were coughing and gasping for air. You hadn't even blinked the water from your eyes before you were scanning for anything red in the waves. 

"Where's Kid?!" 

"Worry about yourself, not your boytoy." Dive's sharp teeth glistened in the sun's rays reflecting off the water as she grinned. She patted your back as a fit of coughing overtook you. "Killer's got him. Don't fret." 

With surprising strength, Dive swam with you in tow. Seconds later, there was a disturbance in the water as one blond, albeit under a helmet, and one red head popped up. You held your breath with worry until you heard Kid cough as well. Dive and Killer got you both on deck with the help of the rest of the crew. You and Kid lay flat on your backs trying to catch your breaths. Your hand searched to your side until it found purchase in Kid's. Even though you heard him cough, you were relieved that his hand was warm. At least this time you didn't loss consciousness. You had woken up in this position more times than you cared to remember.

You sat up and Killer helped you to your feet, then thanked Dive before Wire and Heat shooed off the rest of the spectating crew. Heat was still walking funny, but he seemed fine. From the corner of your eye, you noticed Kid glaring in the direction of a very smug-looking pig. You got in the way of his line of sight. You were mad at her, mad wasn't the right word, but would scold her privately. If you did it now, you weren't sure what Kid would do, assuming he was already pissed at the animal. Kid rose from the deck, shaking water from his hair, and walked towards you, meaning to get to Minerva. You backed up, putting yourself between he and Mini. You could forgive the things he did to you, but you would not forgive anything he did to her. Your back touched her as she stood to her full height, fur puffed out, taking a fighting stance against Kid. He similarly made himself look bigger, but you didn't sense malice from him, strangely. 

You put a hand out to keep him back. "It was an accident! All your stomping spooked her!"

"YER LUCKY I DON'T BARBECUE YA AND FEED THE CREW TONIGHT FOR THAT STUNT!" He leaned in as if he were gonna growl something to the boar, instead speaking in a hushed normal voice. "That was yer one free shot at me cuz I deserved it." He narrowed his eyes. "I know ya been wantin to do that fer a while, piggy." 

Gazing into his amber eyes before they flicked away, you knew that was part of his apology to you, choosing to let the boar's actions go because you loved her and he loved you. He turned to go back to his workshop, with you tailing him.

"Hey! You can't stay in wet clothes! You'll get sick!" 

Suddenly your feet weren't touching the ground as Killer plucked you from the deck and followed Kid. "That goes for you, too, little darlin." He grabbed the back of Kid's coat and pulled him below deck with you towards his room.

Killer stripped you both of your wet clothes, though taking a minute to appreciate how good Wire's outfit looked on you. And the two of you were now seated nude at the end of Killer's bed, hands shoved between your legs and heads down with guilt, while he paced back and forth, arms folded over his ample chest. He was deciding which one of you to scold first, not allowing you to put clothes on yet.  

"You." He stood at your feet and you reluctantly met his gaze through the holes of his mask. "Are you stupid? Why would you jump in after this big idiot?"

"HEY!" Kid protested.

You covered yourself up to the best of your ability, feeling vulnerable under Killer's gaze. "I didn't mean to. I just..." 

"Just what? Hm?" Underlying Killer's stern voice, was a thin layer of exasperation. "I have to worry about him enough. I don't need you adding to it."

"I wasn't thinking! I saw that he got hurt and I went after him!"

"And you didn't see the ocean? The giant blue thing on all sides of us." Killer huffed and carried on. "You come get ME. Understand? What if no one saw you go in? Huh? Then both of you would be lost."

"I..." You snapped. "I only saw Kid okay?! I was scared he was hurt! As much as he irritates the fuck out of me and makes me mad, I still care about him and I can't stop." You saw him grinning stupidly beside you and punched him. "Fuck off. I hate you." You folded your arms tighter and turned away from him so he couldn't see your pink-dusted cheeks, slapping his hand away when he tried to pinch one. 

Kid's boisterous laugh filled the room. "HA-HA! YER IN LOVE WITH ME, DUMBASS!" 

Killer snapped at him with his fingers. "Hey, numbnuts, look at me." Kid's laugh faded as it was his turn to be scolded. "Stop riling up the pig, first of all. Second of all, stop saying stupid shit. That's what always gets you into trouble. Think for one extra second before you open that big ass mouth of yours." 

"FINE." Kid huffed. 

"Did you apologize yet?"

You half turned to see what his expression was, seeing him looking at you with a question, and nodded, indicating you accepted his underwater apology. 

"Aye." 

"Y/N?"

"He did." 

"Great." Killer clapped his hands. "Now kiss and make up." Killer turned both of your heads to face each other. "Don't be shy."

You curled your lip and gave Kid a quick peck on the cheek. 

"No! Not good enough!" Killer folded his arms. "What's wrong?" 

You hesitated. If you were going to get it off your chest, now was the time. You huffed and faced Kid. "I want to know that..." you forced yourself to keep his gaze. "...I'm more than sex." 

"Hah?!" Kid had an incredulous expression on his face. "What're ya? Stupid? Course ya are!"

"But you said...as long as I have a pussy-"

Kid put a hand over his face. "Fuck me! That's not what I meant. I was tryin to make ya laugh is all."

"It wasn't funny! I had real fears that...maybe that's all I would be if I couldn't fight."

"Once a Kid Pirate, always a Kid Pirate. We won't abandon ya, even if ya get hurt. Do ya think we would raid a marine base to save ya if ya didn't mean more to us?" Kid continued. "If all I wanted was easy sex, I could grab any random whore from an island."

You hummed in agreement. He had a point. 

"And I did. But we made her our whore." Kid laughed again and you frowned. 

"I really don't like you." You rolled your eyes. 

"Come on now, doll." Kid wrapped his arms around you and smushed his face into your neck. "What would I do without my Rotten? Right, Kil?"

You tried to squirm out of Kid's overly affectionate hug. You could tell he was laying it on thick to annoy you, smug that he knew you could never really stay mad at him.

Killer sat on the opposite side of you and took one of your hands in his. "Kid isn't good with words. That just how he's always been. Sometimes he says the wrong thing or he doesn't realize what he says can be harsh, but trust me when I say he cares about you. If you're on this ship and a part of the crew, he cares about you." 

"Even if ya ever decide ya don't want ta fuck us, yer still a Kid Pirate. I'll still take care of ya." Kid pressed a kiss to your neck. "But I will be sad if ya decide ya don't wanna be my bunny anymore." 

"Good?" Killer got up and folded his arms again. "Now kiss." He made a motion of pushing your heads together. 

You relented, facing Kid and planting your lips on his. He ran his hands lovingly over your cheeks and into your hair. You pulled back and rested your forehead on his. "I'm sorry for being stubborn. And thank you for not being an asshole to Mini."

"I've never been an asshole in my life. Tell her, Killer."

You rolled your eyes again and sighed, feeling a lot better than you had.

"Next time, because there will be a next time, we're going to talk about it together instead of you two being nightmares for the entire ship. Deal? Heat is gonna fucking quit if you keep dragging him in." 

You and Kid nodded, regretfully. 

"Or else you'll get seastone manacled together until you can be nice to each other."

You and Kid glanced at each other, neither exactly opposing that idea.

Killer shook his head and put his hand to his helmet. "Get dry clothes on and get back to work."

You got up and squeezed Killer's midsection. "Sorry for making you worry."

"Aye, sorry." 

You were squished as Kid came from behind you to also hug Killer. Your head was being crushed from all sides by four huge manboobs. A much more preferable way to die than drowning. Shockingly, Kid didn't even get a boner. Wondering what was taking so long, you looked up to see Kid planting red lipstick marks all over Killer's helmet. You had no right to be annoyed, happy to see your boys being affectionate with each other. You could stay here a few minutes longer.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kid dragged you to his workshop. He was dying to show you something, and that was why he had been pestering you earlier. He wouldn't tell you what it was. Killer was following you quietly. Even he didn't know what it was, though he had a pretty good guess. Kid made you sit while he rummaged around through his things. You weren't sure why he always had to be rummaging. Why wasn't anything organized? This was his space. It wasn't like anyone but him was making a mess.

While you waited, there was a crumpled piece of clothing on the corner of Kid's bench. It was peppered with smeared eyeliner and Kid's red lipstick. A sweat rag? You picked it up, fabric unfolding and revealing black kanji. This is-! You unfolded it in your lap. It was tattered and stained but it was your coat. Your fingers traced over the marks that were clearly left by Kid. 

"Was gonna give it back. Meant ta clean it first." Kid was scratching the back of his head, a reddish hue developing on his cheeks. 

"You saved it?" You had assumed it was lost when you were taken. 

"And this." Kid held your gunblade out in his hands. "Hope ya don't mind, I tweaked it again."

He did more than that. It was shiner that it had ever been, and it was adorned with intricate snake designs that hadn't been there previously. He had taken your criticism from the last time and applied it. Against his professional judgement, he kept it weighted how you liked. You looked from it to your coat. Your stomach clenched with guilt. If you had known he had don't all of this, you wouldn't have questioned his feelings for you. You brought your coat to your face, to cover the emotions that ran through it. Tears threatened to make themselves known. 

"Don't ya start being a crybaby on me. Ya won't be able to see the other thing I made ya." Kid pulled your hands away from your face. 

You looked into the palm he had held out. It was a small marble-like object. You didn't understand. With the wires attached to it, it sort of resembled... "This is-!" You stood up abruptly and took it from Kid's palm. Inspecting it further, there was no doubt that it was a replica of your eye. "Kid!" 

"Wanna try it?" Kid offered, cheeks radiating with blush. "Just... Don't be upset. It may not work initially. I haven't gotten to test it or-"

"Shut up! Of course it will work! You made it!" You looked at it and gave it back to him. "How do we do it?"

Kid pointed to an open book on his desk, one of the medical reference books that had been in the infirmary. You noticed it was gone, but thought Pomp, UK, and Reck had taken it again to look at the naked anatomical pictures. He explained where the wires should connect and that he could get them there, you would just have to use your fruit to make that possible. You did it with on eye. This wasn't that different. This one had been gone much longer though, and your brain had grown accustomed to not having it, so the neural pathways may be altered. You studied the diagrams for a few minutes and talked it over with Kid. Then, you sat back down and tilted your head back to rest on the bench top. 

"Killer, do you mind holding my head still? I don't know what this will be like."

Killer put both hands on either side of your head and you held the eyelids open for Kid to place the mechanical eye into. It sat in the socket well enough, but now the connections had to be made. You and Kid had to work in tandem to put everything in place. With the flesh eye, you could sort of control the things around it. This was metal, therefore Kid needed to direct it. You probably could have, but he had far better control over it. A jolt went through your body as one of the wires strayed from the correct path.

"Fuck!" Kid flinched, trying to stay concentrated. 

"It's okay. Keep going." You held onto his arm to support him. 

Killer watched, mesmerized by the dancing purple electricity melding with the soft yellow-tinged glow, each devil fruit power working as one. He held your head still, periodically feeling twitches and seeing your face wince. 

Kid pulled his hand away as a spark jumped to his metal finger. "Can ya see?"

The eye made a few jerky, mechanical movements, not quite in synch with your body. "No." You tried to hid the disappointment in your voice. 

"Hold on." Kid made some minor adjustments, looking back at the textbook for confirmation. "Try again."

This time the movement was much smoother, though still no vision. "Still no." You sighed. Maybe the problem was on your end. "Let me try." 

The best way to figure out the issue was to compare it to the working side. You couldn't see into your own brain but you could feel what was there, in a weird way. Everything was connected properly, the issue was that the path of the wires had missed a stop. Both eyes were being used by the same half of the brain. Kid didn't realize that the optic nerve was meant to cross to the other side. The right eye went to the left side and the left eye went to the right, give or take a few nerve fibers. Very carefully, you brought the necessary connections through the chiasm, nerves intertwining with the mechanical fibers. The small metal pistons that acted as muscles worked fine, they needed time to attune to your control so they would move more fluidly, but you could deal with that. 

You cracked the smallest opening in your eyelids, afraid that it wouldn't work, and saw a sliver of light through both. BOTH! They opened the rest of the way and you sat bolt upright, taking in everything around you, everything that seemed so much brighter and vibrant. Your eyes darted around the room. How will the ocean look? The ocean! I have to see the ocean! You were caught by strong hands before you could run out the door. 

"Whoa! Can you see? Everything ok?" Killer looked down at you, holding your shoulders tight. 

You pulled him down by the helmet, too fast, almost knocking yourself out, but you had to see. You had to see his blue eyes. How much of the blue had you been missing? You brought your new eye up to one of his eye holes, trying to get a glimpse. Even in the shade of his helmet, you could see glimmering blue. You released him and he did the same. You looked around the room frenetically for Kid, running to him and yanking him by the shirt until his face was at your level. You held his face between your hands looking at every freckle in new detail. And his eyes! They weren't only amber, but orange and golden, too. There was nuance that you had missed before.

"Holy shit." You breathed. You clapped Kid's head between your hands, slapping his cheeks. "I can see, you baby back bastard! You son of a bitch!" You shook his head in your grip and hugged it. "You fucking did it!" Remembering that you wanted to see the ocean, you practically threw him away from you and zipped out the workshop door. 

Killer allowed himself to chuckle. "Baby back bastard? That's new."

Kid's chest was puffed out and he had his signature grin plastered on his face, framed by two small, red handprints from where you slapped him. He was virtually levitating with how much pride was radiating from him. "Of course I fuckin did it. I'm me!" 

They followed you out, seeing you bent over the railing with your eyes as close to the water as possible without falling in again. Killer grabbed your waistband, sighing. He didn't want to spoil your good time by reprimanding you. 

"It's so fucking blue! Have you seen this shit?!" Suddenly, numbers popped into your vision, scaring you so badly that you jumped back. "What the fuck!?" You swatted at the air where they appeared to be. 

"Ya didn't give me time to explain all the features," Kid said, preventing you from falling backwards.

"Features?"

He laughed. "Ya didn't think I was gonna give ya some dumbass plain eyeball, did ya?" Kid handed you your gunblade. "Here. Point this at somethin random." 

You did as he said, pointing it at the deck some distance away from you. The numbers popped back into your vision, changing depending on where your gun was pointed. When you lingered, crosshairs also flickered into view. "No fucking way."

"That's not all. Look here." Kid pointed to the pulse point in his wrist. 

You holstered your weapon and the display vanished from your sight. Staring at his wrist, a new set of numbers came into view, numbers you recognized as heart rate. You flung yourself at Kid, throwing both arms around him. You released one to reach for Killer, who gladly accepted your hand. At the moment, you had no words. Kid gave you something that you hadn't had in years. You took it back, the thing about always being the one to give. Kid gave, too. It was simply a different kind of giving. You pulled your face out of his cleavage, this time not trying to hold back tears. 

"Thank you, Kid! Thank you. Thank you! It's so beautiful. Everything is so beautiful!" 

"Wait until you look in a mirror," Killer added. He didn't mean for it to be cheesy. He only noticed how you were so excited to see everything, you forgot about yourself.

"Now that's an idea!" You ran into the infirmary bathroom where the nearest mirror happened to be. 

Killer gazed at you adoringly as you saw your own face. Finally, you could learn to appreciate what they had noticed a long time ago. 

It had been some time since you had seen yourself this clearly. Part of you thought you would be disgusted by the scarring on your face, but that wasn't so. It reminded you of how much it took to get to this point. You traced the semi-circle of a scar that went through your old right eye, then the outline of where the acid had melted your skin. It held all of your anguish, but your triumphs as well. Where some might see a disfigurement, there was only strength. You stared at one eye and then the next. They were exactly alike. How Kid managed to get it to match that well, you didn't know. Maybe you did. He always seemed to be watching you, though maybe it wasn't watching so much as it was looking. Kid's eyes followed you all the time. Had he had memorized the details? But why would he? 

You ran back to Kid, stopping briefly to plant a kiss on Killer, who was kind enough to bend down for you. You did a running jump at Kid, which he, thankfully, was prepared for, lest you both fall int the ocean again. Kid caught you as flew at him. "Ha-ha! You stupid fuck! You love me back!" 

Tag list: @bbnbhm @nocturnalrorobin @wgwingguns

[boomboom-tanjiro2019]

Easy

PT. 1 EX! READER X EX! ACE

Description: Angst but also ridiculous-extra stupid-shit. Reader does some wrong but so will Ace. HAPPY ENDING (No one dies and everyone gets what they need in the end) MODERN AU!!

WORD COUNT: 3680

Prologue

“And you are sure you are getting the promotion today?” Nami raised an eyebrow over to you. 

You roll your eyes, “Psh… Nami, you realize who I am right? Cecil adores me, and we already know she’s going to retire. I think she’s calling me in the office because she’s retiring even earlier than accepted, I mean, she’s old as shit.”

“Ugh… she lectured me on how girls her age didn’t wear skirts as short as mine when they were my age… it was below my knee, Y/N. AND I’m not even in the marketing department, I’m in finance, why was she even concerned about me?!”

“Well… when I am Chief of Marketing to take her place, I will instead encourage you to wear sexy outfits, Nami.” You wink exaggeratedly.

Nami smiles and shakes her head, “Flattering, but HR might not find that as entertaining as we do.”

“Oh yeah that’s not good.” You pause and fake sigh, “Our love will have to be hidden.”

Nami sheds a fake tear, “We are like the platonic Romeo and Juliet… you know… without the death… and pedophilia…”

“A shame I think it would add drama and spice … the death part- not the pedophilia, obviously.” You sigh and place a hand on Nami’s shoulder, “We are unintentionally HR’s worst nightmare I think.”

She shrugs, “Jinbei will understand.”

You stop at a large entrance with two tall engraved wooden doors with shiny golden knobs, a small white and black houndstooth placemat in front of the door, looking out of place compared to the modern marble floor, white walls, and bold furniture and paintings along the rest of the hallway. You had felt the peculiar feeling of walking through those doors a million times before, it was like time traveling back 50 years. How Cecil, a woman who had seen the dinosaurs and who did not bear the resolve to advance her views further than the 1700s became Chief of MARKETING for a RESORT company? Well nobody was exactly sure, by all means it made no sense. Cecil liked you because you sucked up to her, but made sure the company still advanced by undermining just about every request she had. In fact you were sure if Cecil were left to her own devices, Sabo and the folks in the law department would be drowning in lawsuits. 

You turn back to Nami one last time, “My outfit look modest enough?”

Nami nodded, “I can’t wait for you to be able to wear clothes that fit. I’ve seen your actual closet…” She raked your body up and down, making sure to focus on the bland gray and horrid shoes. “...This is a crime in comparison. 

“Great. Wish me luck.” You raise up your hand for a high five, to which Nami immediately reciprocates, before stomping off in her purple skirt and blouse with beautiful jewelry that might have given Cecil a heart attack had she seen it. 

You knock on the door, “Chief Brookes?”

“Come in!” Her scraggly voice calls out.

You open the door and step through, careful to shut the door and resist walking down the horrifically long, green brown rug Cecil used to guide a pathway to her desk. 

“Ah. Y/N.” She gives a smile. Though she was around 68, she looked more to be in her mid-fifties. Absolutely gorgeous woman with a smile that makes you feel safe. That is, until she cuts into you with jabs about your work and overall appearance. Not only that, but so terrible at her job that higher management has been waiting for her to retire. They have come to the conclusion that waiting for her to either kick it or retire in an eccentric manner is better than having to fire her. “My favorite protege.”

Only protege. No part of Cecil Brooke’s favor towards you was accidental. Though part of you had to admire Cecil’s spite and lack of tact. Your admiration might be deeper had she actually been good at her job. “Hello Mrs. Brookes.” You carefully walk up to her desk with a polite smile. 

She smiles wider, “You know I’d rather you call me Cecil.” She lies. She enjoys the hierarchy culture. “Sit sit!”

You carefully pull out the chair and sit down. Making a show of laying your hands down in your lap gently, a stark contrast from the person your team has seen these last few years, “Can I ask what you called me in for?"

Cecil nods and her expression hardens. She grabs a tissue box from across her desk and places it in between you two. “Just in case…”

Good sign.

“I called you in here because… very tragically and very suddenly… I have decided to cut my career short.”

‘If she considers that short, I can only grieve for her husband’s self esteem.’

“What?” You make a point of furrowing your eyebrows, “With all due respect-“ which is none. “-You can’t just quit when the company needs you so desperately.”

“I know it’s a lot to take in. You must be shocked.”

“I’m flabbergasted.”

“It’s tragic, truly.”

“Truly” you nod, slowly shifting your expression from false outrage, to false disbelief, to false sadness. 

“Don’t worry.” She reaches her hand over yours, “I will still be here for 4 weeks. I will teach you everything you need to know…”

‘Even better sign.’

“I am… heavily considering recommending you to take on my position.”

You gasp, “Mrs. Brookes! I couldn’t-“

“You can.” She smiles, “With my guidance over the next few weeks, I believe I can teach you my ways. I will be testing you along the way though. It won’t be easy.”

‘Anything is easier than trying to make our marketing department mediocre at best with you rejecting all of our ideas.‘

“I understand. I am honored to be in your thoughts…”

She puts her hand over her heart, “You just remind me of myself so much.” She sighs, “Well then… I guess that’s it. I will follow up with you later.” She shakes your hand.

You say your goodbyes and walk down the vomit inducing carpet. It would be the first thing to go.

“Y/N? One more thing for tomorrow.”

——————————————————————

You stand near the entrance of one of the interview rooms on the first floor. The one HR usually uses for interviews. Today, it was your interview room, along with Cecil’s if she ever decided to show up. The possible employee would be there in 20 minutes, 10 if they decide to be smart and come off as a try hard. Cecil’s favorite breed of person.

“Y/N?” You hear a familiar voice call out. Sabo. Team 5 leader in the law department, brother of two significant people in your life. Luffy and your ex boyfriend. Though it’s apparent your ex refrained from giving details of the relationship’s end by Sabo’s continued comfortability and friendship with you, though this day it didn’t seem so. “What are… you doing here?” He gives a strained toothy smile.

“Waiting for Cecil so we can start this interview.”

“Right… but… wouldn’t the… team manager the position is under be doing the interview?” He stays smiling, though it gets more and more unsettling as he whips his head around, “Isn’t it supposed to be Yamato doing the interview? Where is heeee?” He laughs in a rather scared manner.

“Change of plans. New employee is under my team until further notice.” You raise an eyebrow at him, “Why?”

“…No reason.” Sabo squeaks out, “Bye now!” Just like that, he is turning the corner on his heel as fast as he can. You hear a thud at one point followed by a curse but you try to ignore it.

Cecil appears from around the corner, dressed like a neon Cruella De’Vil. Her makeup masking her natural olden beauty with a clown color palette. She gives you a curt nod and unlocks the door, expecting you to follow along with her actions wordlessly and fluently. Thank goodness after years of staring her down to copy her mannerisms, this comes easy. You both sit next to each other in the room as Cecil decides to speak her first word of the day, “I will finish my section, then you will speak your peace. I will give you a 50% say in this. Since the new graphic artist will be under your team. Your first test is managing a new employee on top of the new marketi-“ something something something.

You just nod and smile until she is interrupted by a knock on the door, followed by a muffled sound sounding like Sabo’s voice saying ‘you can just open it’ whoever it is decided that this is a great idea and finally turns the knob. You glance down at the paper you realize you have yet to read any of or review at all. Drinking with your girls out of excitement took up valuable time. You hear the sudden stop of steps as you stay glued to the page, determined to at least scan over the resume-

Portgas D. Ace: Grand Line Resort, Graphic Artist job application.

No. No. No. You look up to meet the face you’ve avoided for a good 5 years. Chocolate brown eyes, splatters of freckles, muscled physique, bronze skin…

You can’t read his mind but if you could you are sure it would be the same thought as yours.

Fuck.

———-

“Fuck” A man you assume is Luffy’s brother says as he stares at you. Frozen like a deer in headlights.

He was coming out of the bathroom. Quickly going to grab a towel from the hallway closet in the flat he shared with his brothers. How was he supposed to know one of Luffy’s… hot friends would be here? The one he would eye across the one class he had with you during a professor’s boring lecture?

Your eyes unintentionally drift down as you try to comprehend what you are seeing. You quickly regret it. Your eyes dart up and you try to forget what you’ve already seen.

You two make eye contact for a few seconds before he, still wide eyed, closes the door while you dart down the hallway. You aren’t going to forget that first impression anytime soon.

———— 

You remember your first legitimate sight of Ace, a memory that is not helping you in this situation at all. A different memory seems to be playing in Ace’s head by the look on his face as he takes in your appearance. Looking for changes maybe. 

Ace shakes Cecil’s hand casually, but falters when he reaches you. What is he going to do? Pretend like he doesn’t know you?

“Good afternoon. I’m Ace, last name is Portgas.” He smiles at you but you can read in between the lines. He is as unprepared as you are. 

Though Ace is smiling and behaving semi-normal despite the situation, you are sure your body language and facial expressions convey your true thoughts. You sit there still as a brick as Cecil gestures for him to take a seat. 

He doesn’t look at you. Cecil introduces you at one point but his eyes look almost past you. Cecil doesn’t seem to notice anything off about his demeanor, but you do. He runs his fingers through his hair one to many times, his blinking is way too fast, he leans forward too much, and the arm closest to you isn’t on the table like the other one is. Details you aren’t sure how you remember.

Questions go by, when answering Cecil’s questions he turns to your direction but his eyes stare right past you as he answers. As soon as he turns to you his breathing quickens, his hand clenches and his shoulders tense. All things you notice before he turns back to Cecil to make eye contact with her.

Cecil coughs and turns her head in your direction. You know what for, though you’d rather be anywhere but here. You cross your fingers and hope you and Cecil don’t have the same questions since you were not at all paying attention.

“So, Mr. Portgas, how did you hear about this job?” You tilt your head curiously.

He takes a breath as soon as you speak your first word. He looks like he’s holding onto every word as you speak. “My brother works here… he recommended this position because I have an art major.”

You nod. Sabo must’ve been shaken because of you interviewing and having Ace in your team, “Impressive. And what can you bring to the position?” You squint your eyes skeptically

Ace freezes, “I believe…” he loosens his tie nervously.

You glance at Cecil, who is taking note of his behavior. Cutthroat bitch. Part of you is internally celebrating at the prospect of Ace not being a potential employee, but the other half is begging him to get it together.

“I can bring a new and innovative point of view to the team. Though this is my first legitimate office job and that can be a challenge to adjust to… but I’m not worn down from the job or stuck to the old way of doing things because of it.” It’s a decent answer, though Cecil doesn’t seem to appreciate his response.

You can see Ace is overthinking his answer in his mind, though his proud smirk says otherwise. He wants this done as soon as possible. Quite frankly, so do you. “That’s it for me. Thank you.” You say as quickly as possible.

Ace mumbles, “Thank you.”

Cecil didn’t seem too impressed with that either.

…That’s a good thing, yeah?

Cecil’s lips purse as she stares back at him, “Here at Hiraeth Resort, though our other departments may embrace new innovation, I have been sure to play our cards safely by using the same technique all these years. I’m afraid this might not be what you are looking for out of a job.”

Ace’s eyebrows furrow at her response, quickly scanning over your face, searching for something, a reaction to her words. The disbelief that you had confined yourself to a job like this etched across his features. His eyes linger on the bland gray and the jewelry metal that differed from your usual. You told him to never buy jewelry in that color, “I assure you I will do a great job no matter what your focus is.”

“...” Cecil analyzes his response before waving her hand, “That is it for me, we will get back to you at some point. I’m sure somebody appreciates the time you spent in this interview.”

That one stung.

You see Ace’s jaw clench and his features narrow before he sighs, “Thank you for your time Mrs. Brookes and… Ms. L/N.” He sends you a look of deep rooted betrayal masked by a layer of professionalism and longing. You aren’t sure which part of it is worse. 

He reaches for a handshake from Cecil, which she does not reciprocate. He hesitantly reaches out for yours, hand shaky. He starts to pull back after a second, but you reach out to meet his hand. The handshake is brief, but the shiver the contact brings you is downright embarrassing. 

As soon as that door shuts, Cecil turns to you, “Absolutely not.”

“...Why?” You should probably just nod and agree like you would with anyone else, no matter how qualified you believed they were. Something stops you.

She almost laughs, “He’s a disaster, sure some of his responses were decent… but a new point of view? Creativity? His job is to draw designs for the company mascot and posters! Look at this portfolio. ¼ of it is tattoo designs.”

“Everyone starts somewhere. He has a ton of job experience, it’s not all tattoo designs. He’s done posters and logos for restaurants and other businesses.”

“Ah yes, because a former firefighter will be very helpful in this job field.” She reads off the job list on Ace’s resume.

Hot. “It shows determination and sacrifice.” And it’s hot.

“I just don’t think he’s a good fit for the company.”

You fiddle with your rings, a color you despise, but it is Cecil’s preferred metal. “He has potential, I believe.”

She turns towards you, disbelief in her eyes, “You’re really for this guy?”

If she finds out about you two having dated, a clear conflict of interest, your chances at that promotion fly away.

You slowly nod, “I think he could be helped.”

Cecil scowls before sighing, “4 week paid internship, at the end of my time here, I will decide if he gets the job or not. You are in charge of shaping him to my standards.”

Your breath hitches. 4 weeks of constant… Ace? Nightmare, horrible idea.

“...Yes ma’am. I will not disappoint you.”

She grabs her pen and writes something down, “You best not, your job future is riding on the line as well. Dismissed.”

—------------------------------------

Nami waves you down frantically as you are headed to the local coffee shop after work, a distressed Sabo and Koala next to her. 

Nami gestures for you to sit down, which you reluctantly comply with, death staring at all three of them while they give you nervous smiles. 

“You all knew?” You ask.

They nod.

“So did everyone else…” Sabo cringes, “But we didn’t think he was going to be under your team… so…”

“Right…”

“Listen… We know the situation is.. Rocky… but Ace needs the job… and there has been a lot going on for him. He got fired from the fire station after breaking Teach’s arm because he insulted pops.” Koala adds

Thank god he didn’t put the fire station as a reference.

“So far one person is for his hiring and the other wants him as far away from her and her department as possible.” You comment.

You immediately are met with a mix of pleading, disappointment and very subtle… threats? The last from Sabo, mainly.

“Guys.” 

They continue. “GUYS!” Their attention finally is on you, “I am for hiring Ace, it’s Cecil who is against it”

Nami pauses and looks up at you, “...That checks out… actually.”

“I may not want Ace to be in proximity to me, but I won’t deny him a job. He has 4 weeks of a paid internship before Cecil decides if he gets a permanent job or not. Believe it or not, I defended Ace, no matter how-” You sigh, “... He is.”

—-------------------------

Sabo opens the door to Ace’s apartment, watching for a moment as pots and pans are roughly dropped on the counter as Ace stomps from fridge to cabinet to counter. “What.” Ace roughly lets out, not making eye contact with Sabo.

“...How’d the interview go…?” He awkwardly smiles. Ace whips his head up and scowls, the expression on his face giving all answers, “Right…”

Ace exhales deeply, “As soon as I saw her there I just knew… Why would you even let me go if you knew before that it was happening? Life just adores me, clearly. We break up, then I finally find some peace with my firefighting job, now that’s over and I come face to face with her. Waiting for her judgment, jobless, unworthy like some pathetic…! Ugh…” He rubs his temples, “I didn’t even read the email, I don’t want to deal with it. I should’ve just stayed at the tattoo shop, but I need to make enough to travel and… Jesus.”

Sabo stays silent before quietly glancing at Ace’s computer, pictures of your instagram open. He gives a wide-eyed stare back at Ace, who closes it and tosses it on his couch. Sabo ignores it and continues his thought, “Y/N defended you. Cecil despised you, but she says that you are being given a 4 week paid internship. Cecil- Mrs. Brookes- will decide at the end of it whether you actually get the job…” He gives a smile and a shrug, “Do with that information what you will.”

—--------------------------

Reason One to hate Portgas D. Ace:

He’s uncooperative

You point the camera back at the tall tan man across from you, trying to forget you have seen this aggravating man naked on your first meeting, “You realize we are doing this interview for you guys’ sakes right? All freshman basketball players this year. You’re on the starting lineup, so people are actually looking at you. And all the answers you have given me are inadequate.”

Ace leans back in his chair with a sigh, “I don’t see the point, really. I’m not trying to go to the NBA or anything.”

“Why?” You say, intrigued.

“...I don’t know?”

You throw your hands up, “Oh. My. God!”

“Why are you doing this anyway? Shouldn’t some sports journalism majors be doing this?”

“They all got caught using Chegg on their assignments and sharing answers in a group chat, so now me and some other Marketing students with a journalism minor have to do it.”

“...Oh.”

You groan, “Let’s try this again, why don’t you want to do basketball after college?”

Ace inhales, “...I don’t know… I guess… I mean… I like it, but I mostly do it because of the people on the team. Also it’s too much publicity… worrying about stepping on people’s toes and shit. Doing it professionally just seems… wrong… I don’t really know what I want to do with my life that I’d be good enough at…”

You turn off the camera, it didn’t seem like the type of response that should be recorded. For a split second, there was no camera, there was no mini microphone you had attached to his shirt. There was no 5 foot distance between the couch he was sitting on, his posture now up straight. It was just… you and this guy. Granted it was a guy you had first “met” when he was naked coming out of his bathroom, but still. Just you. Just you and ‘Ace’  “...It’s freshman year, you still have some time.” You shrug.

“...Yeah…”

You shake your head and turn on the camera again, “Uhh… now for the other questions.”

[angelmush]

the other day i walked around the golden lake w my love and the sun was setting hot and orange and we watched a brown duck preening through the weeds, ducking her head under the dark water. the cool lake swallowed up my tired feet to the ankles and we counted the dog walkers with their curly panting doodles and their handsome german shepherds and their whip smart little terriers and we admired the careful construction of a sand castle whose moat held determinedly against the lapping of the waves. we could feel in our chests the persistent thunderous thumping of celebratory music at the finish line of the lakeside 5k, welcoming each gasping runner across its bounds. and i felt like crying. i felt like curling into myself and crying. we walked through the swamp of the bird sanctuary afterwards and listened to the woods sing and croak and groan and then we went and got ube and yuzu gelato and devoured it suntired and sweating on the couch in our living room. and i was so overcome w a deep and true unshakeable happiness and a sort of confused grief that i wanted to sob and sob and sob.

[swordheld]

hi! your blog is one of my favourites and i absolutely adore reading your thoughts. my grandfather recently passed away and it feels like i lost myself with him. how do i continue living after this? there is this constant weight on my chest and it feels like an emptiness has made a home inside of me. how do i go on when it feels like the world crashed on my shoulders?

hello, love! this is so very sweet and kind of you, and i hope you're treating yourself gently and kindly right now - there aren't words for a loss like this. that heaviness is difficult, and hard, and painful. it's okay if things don't feel okay, right now, or even soon - i think that's something that a lot of the people i know that have gone through similar grief feel: like they should be able to get back to a relative 'normal' in a [insert far too short period of time].

but it's okay if it hurts. that's where i'd like to start. you're allowed to feel that emptiness, that world-crashed feeling that goes beyond words, beyond time. don't feel like you have to rush this to feel some sort of better. things get easier with time, i promise you this, but sometimes painful feelings are important to feel, too. cry, scream, feel your emotions. they're a part of you. grieve.

it's perhaps a little silly, but when i think about death i always think about a couple of space songs: mainly drops of jupiter by train and saturn by sleeping at last. there are perhaps others that speak to the emotions better, but these two have always hit something a little deeper for me, and are popular for a wide-reaching reason.

and while personally i don't know much about grief like this, i do know a lot about love; and i think they're a lot of the same thing.

the people we love are a part of us, and this is why it takes from us so deeply when we lose them, because it does feel like we've lost a part of ourselves in the wake of it. but it's because they were so central to our experiences of living - our lives, that the separation introduces a hollowness - a place where they used to be. a home that now goes unlived in.

an emptiness, like you said.

but just because they're not here physically, doesn't mean he's not still there, in your heart, in your life, your memory. you can hold him close in smaller ways, as well: steal a sweater, or cologne/scent for something a little more physical and long lasting for remembering. hold onto the memories you cherish, the things that made you laugh, the ease of slow mornings and gentle nights. write them all down, slide a few photographs in there, go through it and add more when you miss him. keep them all close, keep them in your heart.

you're not alone, in this. he's still there, with you, it's just - in the little things.

he's with you in the way you see and go about your daily life, in doing what he liked to do, in the ways he interacted with the world that you shared with him. the memories you recall fondly when the night is late or the moment is right and something calls it into you like a melody, an old bell, laughter you'd recognize anywhere.

but i think, perhaps most importantly above all others - talk about him. with your family, your friends, his friends, strangers; stories are how we keep the people we love alive. the connections they've made, the legacies and experiences they've left behind, and so, so many stories.

how lucky, we are - to love so much it takes a piece of us when they go. grief is the other side of the coin, but it does not mean our love goes away. it lives in you. it lives in everyone who knew him, in the smallest pieces of our lives.

the people we love never really leave us, like this: they're in how we cook and the way we fold our newspapers, our laundry, in the radio stations we tune in to and the way we decorate our walls, our photo albums. they're in the way we store our mail, organize our closets, the scribbled notes in the indexes of our books. the meals we love and the drinks we mix, the way we spend time with one another. they've been passed down for generations, for longer than history - and we are all the luckier for it.

think about what you shared with him, and do it intentionally. bring him into your life, like this, again. whether it's crosswords or poetry or sports or anything else. if one doesn't help, try another. something might click.

i hope things feel a little easier for you, as they tend to do only with time. i hope you find joy in your grief, even if it is small and hard to grasp at first. know that your hurt stems from so much love that there isn't a place to put it properly, and that it is something so meaningful and hurting poets and storytellers have been struggling to put it into words and sounds that feel like the fit right for eons, and that it is also just simply yours. sometimes things don't have to make sense. sometimes they just are - unable to be put into words or neat little sentiments, as unfair and tragic as they come.

but i promise it will not feel like this forever. your love is real. and perhaps, on where to begin on from here - i think it's less on finding where to begin and just beginning. and you've already started. you've taken the most important and crucial step: the first one. wherever you go, after that, from here? you'll figure it out. you always have, and you always do. it'll come, as things always do. love leads us, as does light - and you're never alone in your hurt. in your grief, your missing something dear to you. i think if you talk about it with others, you'll find they have ways of helping you cope as well - and they have so much love of their own to spare, too.

as an aside, here is the song (northern star by dom fera) i was listening to when i wrote this, for no other reason more than it makes me think of connections, and love, and how we hold onto the people we love and how they change us, wonderfully and intrinsically. it's a little more joyous than the others i've mentioned, and plays like a story, and it made me think of what is at the core of this, love and stories and i am here with you, and maybe it'll bring you some joy, if you'd like it. wishing you all my love and ease 💛

[johnslittlespoon]

ok okokk i may be pushing it but i just cant stop picturing barry circa 2012 with leaving!bucky. i just feel like theyd have the cutest dynamic ever. he gives art student vibes like maybe hes studying film or literature. theyre childhood bestfriends and maybe they were eachother's homoerotic-codependent-friendship canon event. UGHH theyd be so cute stfuu. and maybe bucky and gale are already established and curt is just yearning for a whileee like over a year of slow burn until the three of them are a throuple... idk i just miss curtbuckbucky. you dont have to change your canon for the long fic i just needed to share this idea lmfao

au post | NO ur not pushing it this is such fun world building teehee <33 genuinely this is gonna help me later for drafting! (FUCK MY LIFE HOW IS THIS 2K WORDS. i thought i only had a few thoughts... i was so wrong. my bad chief. enjoy/suffer ig)

ok so this is so funny because i've actually been thinking ab how sweet those two would be together, cute little nerdy besties, and how they'd meet because of course curt has to be in this fic!!

and the first thing my mind went to was the cliche homoerotic codependent friendship trope too LMAO. i'm feeling like maybe they meet on the first day of highschool; neither of them share their english class with any friends, and they end up sat next to each other, and john keeps side–eyeing him because curt looks... interesting. (ie: deep into his emo phase. the fringe. the smudged eyeshadow. chipped black nail polish, band shirts– all things john does not let him live down as they grow up.)

but his eyes settle on some pin on curt's jacket that has some character from his favourite movie or something, and the yap jumps out, john can't control it. blurts out a "you like ___ too?!" and curt's head snaps over and he nods nervously and john takes one look at those big sad charcoal–ringed blue puppy eyes and is like yup. this is the one. will protect with my life.

(tiny headcanon that rly won't have a big effect on plot or anything, but i feel like it just fits very well with john/his character in leaving– dude's got madddd undiagnosed adhd. he's written off as a loud mouth/troublemaker in his childhood, but he wants to be a good kid, his mind is just always going too fast and sitting still is torture and his parents get frustrated and don't look into the root of the problem, trying to discipline it out of him instead. i will heal my inner child by healing him alright)

they're attached at the hip from that moment on and it makes sense to no one because they seem like complete opposites, curt more inclined towards the arts and bookish things and his friends are all the same, whereas john is more inclined towards athletics and science and hangs around that type of crowd as well. but they both love video games and movies and music and they bond over never really feeling like they fit in anywhere particular and both groups of friends get along just fine when they all get together. <3

but yk time goes on, they learn things about themselves as they grow up, and curt and john are so close and spend so much time together that they're already a lot closer than regular friends– they just don't realize it. they think nothing of cuddling up on the couch watching movies together, or sharing a bed when john stays over at curt's place after he gets into a fight with his parents, or being much more interested in spending time together than pursuing girls.

and curt's pretty– john nearly mistakes him for a girl that first day they meet. the summer before their senior year, john practically spends the whole summer at curt's house, and curt's mom doesn't mind; she works long hours and is glad her son isn't spending the summer moping around indoors alone, and she loves john and gets the feeling that her home is a sanctuary for him. one day they're in the backyard lazing around, and they get onto the topic of first kisses, and neither of them have had a proper relationship outside of those classic week–long middleschool flings that don't actually mean anything, so there's not much to talk about.

but being dumb teenage boys, they start worrying about "what if we're really bad at kissing and no girls wanna go with us to senior prom this year" etc. and one of them pops the suggestion of practicing together, and thus begins a summer of sweet stolen kisses and hand holding and experimenting and dancing around calling it something. it ends when the summer does because they realize that they both work better as friends, but they're as close as ever and both definitely learn they aren't straight (and they probably make a cute pact– "if we aren't in love by the time we're thirty, we'll just marry each other.")

i don't see them really doing much together because they're young and shy and inexperienced, but it's enough for john to decide that yeah, he definitely likes guys too, but that's all that really amounts to (until he meets gale) because he's growing up in a small town in wisconsin and it's not the easiest/most accepting place to find other queers. john probably ends up dating a real sweet girl during his last year of highschool, but she's going away for college and john's going to a local one so it ends amicably at the end of summer, both of them staying close friends. (if we wanna get sickeningly wholesome, maybe she ends up pining for a girl while john's pining for gale and they share their little stories and give each other advice and facetime every week to catch up <3)

(++ curt ends up falling head over heels for ken, who he meets through john when curt and john's friend groups get together for movie nights or summer parties. john pretends to be annoyed at how lovesick they are when they first start crushing, but he ends up matchmaking and being the one to push them to confess their feelings after graduation because he loves his friends.)

BUT THEN, leaving this fic's 'canon' to elaborate on the throuple stuff you said! i miss curtbuckbucky too </3

in a separate universe, curt doesn't end up with ken, and as much as he loves his friendship with john and agrees that a relationship wouldn't have worked at that time in their lives, he spends that first year of college pining. when john starts talking about some guy named gale during their second year, he's a little sad, but mostly protective, because "what do you MEAN he's in his 30s??" and "he's a BIKER?"

but john eventually introduces him to gale after a few months of telling curt about him, probably once he and gale actually start seeing each other, and curt immediately gets it. and then he's in double–hell because not only is he a bit (a lot) in love with his best friend, but he's blushing every time said best friend's new bf talks to him, and they're gonna notice eventually if they haven't already and he feels so guilty.

more yearning ensues and john is dense and doesn't realize but gale picks up on it, maybe even notices john doing a bit of pining of his own that john's not fully aware of. and his heart twists because his mind goes to his own insecurities about how john should be seeing someone his own age, so he sits john down and opens up a conversation about it. john is adamant that he's very, very happy with gale, but he tells gale about his and curt's past and admits that he has always still had feelings for him, but insists that it's not something he'd ever pursue, that he values curt's friendship more.

gale throws him off by saying he wouldn't mind if john wanted to explore those feelings, and at first john gets anxious gale is calling things off with the two of them and this is his way of softening the blow, but gale reassures him that's not the case, that he's very happy with their relationship. he just encourages that if he wants to talk to curt and feel things out, he wouldn't be opposed to john and curt seeing each other as well– gale's often busy, after all, so it would be nice for john to have someone else, as long as curt's comfortable with that kind of arrangement and as long as john keeps gale in the loop.

they decide to kinda just feel it out as they go, but soon enough gale starts coming home from work every so often to find the two of them curled up on his couch together, sweet and innocent. curt's wary at first, always slightly detaching himself from john when gale's around, but gale is always friendly and doesn't change up his routine, settling on the couch at john's other side like it's not a big deal at all, wanting to show curt he's welcome there, not wanting john to feel guilty.

it's another scenario where lines just sorta start to blur over time, curt spending a lot of time over at gale's house, and gale sees the way curt looks at him, probably noticed it from the first time they met but chalked it up to nerves at the time. curt's an angel and he's grown quite fond of him, but he doesn't want to overstep, so he leaves it up to curt, thinking maybe the boy will mention it to john one day and john will in turn come to gale to talk about it.

and eventually that happens, just like gale thought it might. curt's just gone home and john's head is in his lap on the couch while they watch tv, and john asks "what do you think about curt?" and gale tells him that he's sweet and he loves how much john smiles when he's around him, the usual. "so you like him?" john pushes, and gale immediately has a feeling where this conversation is going, drags his eyes away from the tv to look down at john.

says "of course" easily, and lets john take his time forming his thoughts. john ends up telling him that he and curt were fooling around earlier while gale was at work (and god help gale for the images that puts in his head) and that he'd made some offhand comment about how curt better hurry up if he doesn't want gale to come home and catch him half naked on their couch. and john's all shy when he says "and curt, uh. y'know. that... did it for him" with a vague gesture LOL. gale never fails to find it amusing how certain things can fluster john to talk about after all they've done together.

"so, anyway. i asked him about it after, if it was a coincidence, and he was real shy about it, but he did admit after a whole lot of apologizing that he likes you." gale listens to him nervously get his words out, petting his hair encouragingly, waits for him to be done before he asks "how do you feel about that?" only to watch the flush return when john mumbles "it's hot."

this is getting sooo long i need to take away my own typing privileges, but basically that's how things would start between the three of them– john and gale agree that gale will let himself be a bit flirty with curt and see how curt takes it. obviously this goes a little too well when curt gets hot and bothered sat between john and gale during a movie night with john's hand on his knee and gale's arm resting on the couch behind him while he plays with curt's hair.

the movie is forgotten when gale's finger catches on a tangled curl and curt doesn't bite back the little whine that slips out in time and john's head snaps over and he mumbles a "fuck" when he realizes what's happened, and his lack of filter comes out to play when he turns to curt and asks "curt, can gale kiss you?" and curt turns to gale with big doll eyes and nods.

john ends up palming himself over his shorts as he watches gale coax curt into his lap, face hot and pupils blown as he gets to see both his guys make out in front of him, almost dizzy seeing curt get so shy and needy and pliant because when it's just the two of them, he and curt are both very balanced in their dynamic. they've been such close friends for so long that not much gets the other truly shy like that, and they're always quick to voice their wants and crack jokes while fooling around and all. so to see curt get so flustered in that way with gale has him lightheaded, and by the time they all collapse into gale's bed at the end of the night, john's convinced this is the best decision he's ever made.

there's a lot of pining on curt's end because for a while it's kinda just sex when it's the three of them, and he loves it but he also finds himself wanting more but feeling too scared to voice it because he feels like he's intruding. but eventually they all get their shit sorted out; curt fits into their relationship just right in a way gale and john never intended or expected, and gale falls for curt just as much as john has and curt does the same with gale.

gale's got two sweet things glued to his side now and man, do they ever give him a run for his money, and if he'd thought john had too much energy (and stamina) it's nothing compared to keeping up with both of them, but he wouldn't have it any other way. <3

throuple things won't be happening in the actual fic, but i do love the idea of exploring the dynamic the three of them might have in a spin–off of that au so this was rly fun thx :-) maybe i'll write a pwp oneshot set in that universe as an excuse to write more curtbuckbucky once the fic is done LOL we'll see!

[moeblob]

Deacon loves two things: Ymber and digging himself a grave.

Fulj hates one thing: Deacon.

[godsfavoritescientist]

Biting the bars of my enclosure about autistic ford tonight. There's something about him using vocabulary and turns of phrase that seem "outdated" or "pretentious" that feels so painfully genuine to me. When people say he talks like that just to "try to sound smart" I wish I could explain what it's like to be so ostracized from your peers growing up that you spend all your time reading instead, to the point where you pick up your way of speaking from books instead of from people. And then what it's like for people to call you out for "talking weird" over and over again, not able to wrap their heads around why the fuck you would choose more archaic or technical or formal words than the simpler ones that surely come to everyone's minds first. What it's like to have to dedicate a sizable chunk of attention to filtering through every single word you say out loud in real time before you say it, to make absolutely sure that it isn't a word people will judge you for using or make fun of you for using, just so you'll have a chance of being taken seriously. Learning through trial and error how to filter out the words that other people don't think are normal or casual enough for the conversation, even though for you, the word choice that's "natural-sounding" enough for them is the third or fourth word you came up with when searching for the right way to phrase something in your head. I wish I could explain just how long it takes to say fucking anything after spending a lifetime doing that during every single conversation, and how repetitive and long-winded you end up being when you spend so long coming up with alternative ways of saying every little thing you ever think. And I wish people realized that, at the very least for autistic people and autistic-coded characters, speech that's seen as pretentious is really just the way they talk when they're not putting in the extra effort to filter through every word they say just so others will take the time to listen.

[acesammy]

Honestly growing up is realizing that normal people don’t have to set timers to remember they’re cooking ramen… which notoriously only takes 3 minutes to cook… and maybe I do have adhd

[dontmeanyoudontmissit]

So anyways my plan for the next two months is to kickass at work while I get another job and then leave their asses.