#ace x reader

Unbirthday parties at NRC always follow the rules—the oh-so-“questionable” rules of Heartslabyul—but for some reason, whether it’s the music or the sheer number of another dorms guests, the tension released after finals, or maybe just the chaos of other dorms sharing food, sweets, and drinks right in Riddle’s territory, this party doesn’t even feel… unusual anymore.

Maybe it’s also the fact that Ace is way too quiet in the corner, hunched over himself, trying (and failing) to hide a rather large vial in his hand. You know that when Ace has that mischievous smile and not a shred of remorse in sight, nothing good can come out of the redhead; and this occasion won’t be an exception. Especially not after you saw him pour that very vial into the punch bowl.

“Trappola tradition,” you hear him say. It seems his older brother has passed down the baton for the worst prank.

Whatever Ace poured in there, the air gets sweeter, tinged with a rainbow of colors, with that feeling you get when you finally come of age and know exactly what you want and desire, and that hint of something not entirely legal for a school campus.

Someone, probably Floyd, starts chanting, “Chug! Chug! Chug!” and Epel’s already on his second drink, trying to prove he can handle alcohol better than anyone. Grim, meanwhile, is busy fishing out slices of floating fruit, muttering about the injustice of being banned from the dessert table.

Riddle tries to keep his composure, doing his best not to think about the countless rules being broken in his own lounge, but the blush on his cheeks and the way he wobbles from side to side give him away—he’s not immune to the spirit of the party… and maybe he’s already had a taste of the punch.

You try to take it easy, but it’s hard when everyone keeps handing you drinks, plates of fruit, little candies with mysterious fillings. The world feels slow and slippery, like honey running through your veins, and suddenly you’re part of a tightly packed crowd in the lounge, shoulders pressed together, glasses raised, clinking them to the beat of a song nobody quite remembers the words to.

You catch Ruggie stuffing three types of chocolate into his pockets—not before slipping a couple into your hands, though. “Eat up! Or you’ll regret it tomorrow.” Kalim drags you onto the dance floor, his laughter easy, his hands never still, bracelets jingling as he spins you through the crowd.

The drinks get sweeter, the candies and fruits stronger. You lose track of how much you’ve had after the third glass. Laughter floats in the air, yours mixing with theirs.

You remember Vil’s perfume enveloping you as his knuckles brush along your cheek, making you shiver. “Having fun, darling?”

You just nod before walking to the other side of the room to separate Ace and Deuce—apparently both are on the verge of causing nuclear disaster in the middle of the lounge over who can fit more marshmallows in their mouth. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Leona sprawling even lazier than usual across the sofa, and Malleus… well, laughing and making the air tremble a little.

Everything that came after you remember in lazy waves: laughter blooming warm in your chest, the tickle of someone’s breath on your ear; someone tucking a wildflower behind your ear—was it a white or red rose? It doesn’t matter, 'cause seconds later someone else snatches it away with their teeth and a grin that’s barely even trying to be subtle.

The music pounds in your ears until, at some point, everything settles and you’re wrapped in silence. You remember flashes in that quiet: lips tasting of chocolate pressed to yours, teeth biting your throat, hands brushing your skin under your clothes, laughter melting into moans.

Your hands are everywhere, entwined with someone else’s, tangled in soft strands of hair, clutching a shirt as you fumble with the buttons, at a belt, at the bedsheets, everything is heat, color, and taste. The world tilts and spins and you let go, trusting in the madness of it all, in the hands gripping your waist, in the mouth claiming you, in that lovely sensation of being wanted, claimed, and utterly ruined all at once and in every possible way.

When you finally wake up, the light is all wrong and comes in without asking permission, your thighs feel heavy and there’s that pleasant tingle between them, something itches at your neck, and you’ve got hair in your face.

Your head hurts—no, scratch that, your head is pounding and trying to open your eyes is a very bad idea right now. You take a deep breath and the pain’s still there, hammering away, demanding you face the day.

╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌

Trey

When you slowly turn your head, you find Trey sleeping on his stomach, one lazy arm under the pillow, hair a mess but annoyingly attractive. You assume his glasses are on his nightstand, the sheets dangerously low over his hips.

His hips… bare.

His chest is bare too.

You look down at your own body and—bingo—you’re naked too.

And these aren’t your sheets, this isn’t your pillow, and obviously, this isn’t your dorm bed.

Holy… fuck.

You try to remember, even with the pounding headache, half mortified, half… half what, exactly? Surprised? Embarrassed? Or just utterly satisfied to have such a god lying next to you?

Flashes hit you without warning: the warmth of Trey’s hand guiding you away from the crowd, his soft laughter by your ear, both of you laughing at some joke only the two of you found funny, stumbling together until you crashed into bed.

The taste of icing and the sweetness of strawberries on Trey’s lips when he kissed you fiercely; did he feed you with his fingers, or did you steal the flavor right from his mouth?

His hands roaming every inch of you, his palms warm; his tongue scandalous, licking you slow and deep, teasing your clit, sliding between your wet folds, holding your hips so you couldn’t escape.

Him straightening up, wiping his mouth with his thumb, looking you right in the eyes.

You felt the tip of his cock pressing against your wet pussy, sliding in slowly, panting against your lips, deep strokes, but completely sensual.

“You like how I fill you up, right? You’re so wet, so beautiful,” he’d murmured against your ear, holding one of your legs up over his shoulder to push even deeper.

The way he held both your legs over his shoulders, folding you in half, thrusting over and over, deep, hitting your sweet spot, probably making you scream.

Trey’s name on your lips when he made you cum, slipping two fingers inside you to stretch you even more while his cock was still buried deep.

The moment he held you after it was all over, the fingers of one hand tangled in your hair and the other lazily drawing circles on your back.

Trey shifts, stretching and opening one eye, still half-asleep. He gives you a small, crooked smile when he sees you—serene… and breath taking.

“Good morning.”

Goddamn, even his voice is too sexy...add that rough, low tone and you’re already wet again.

“Did you sleep well? Headache?”

Is it that obvious?

“Uh… yeah, yeah, a little.”

Trey sits up and the sheets slide dangerously lower, lower, on his hips. You try not to look… but fail.

Obviously you fail, who are we kidding? The view of this man’s torso alone is enough to make you start drooling. Those strong arms from all that kneading, the abs, the broad shoulders, and…

Marks?

He has marks on his neck?

Some are obviously hickeys… others look like the start of scratches that trail down his back.

You bite your lip, desperate to look at his back, to see the scratches you obviously left, and see how strong his muscles are there.

“Did we…?” It’s a dumb question—you obviously had sex—but you need to hear it from him.

“Yup… several times, actually.”

The heat that rushes to your cheeks is uncontrollable, almost the same shade of red as his bed curtains.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

“Are you regretting it?”

Please, this man can’t be any sweeter or he’d cause diabetes.

Trey kisses your temple when he realizes there’s not even a hint of regret, or fear, or doubt.

Then, he gets up and starts looking for something to wear before going to get breakfast.

OH MY GOD THAT BODY!!!

And the scratch marks from your nails down his back, and his ass… and his cock, half-hard.

Trey notices you’re basically devouring him with your eyes… “Do you want breakfast, or do you want me to jog your memory with another round?”

He winks at you before pulling on his glasses, boxers and uniform pants and leaving the room to get you something to eat and something for your hangover.

Ah… you could die peacefully in that bed.

Leona

It’s the heat that you notice first—something heavy and solid pressing against you from behind, half-sprawled over your side, as if you were a possession. His possession

Your nose fills with a musky, warm, spiced scent, with hints of something… wild. It’s accompanied by the soft, steady sound of breathing.

You try to open your eyes, but the light only makes things worse, so you’re forced to rely on your other instincts and sensations.

You feel something wrapping around your leg, something soft, moving, tickling you lightly with part of its fur.

Wait… fur?

Is he holding you with a tail?

A TAIL?!

You force one eye open and the first thing you see, in all its glorious splendor, is Leona’s bare chest pressed against your back, one arm wrapped around your stomach.

You follow the line of that arm and realize you’re naked too…

You lift the sheets. Yep. Very naked.

Your skin tingles and your hips ache, your thighs feel like jelly, clear evidence that the bed wasn’t used just for sleeping.

You try to move, but Leona’s arm is like an iron bar, stopping you from even sitting up, his fingers tightening possessively on your hip. A shiver runs down your spine when you feel his tail slide upward, his ears twitch.

“Going somewhere, little mouse?” His voice is deep and rough right by your ear.

You turn your head and meet the lion’s wide green eyes, far too awake for this early in the morning. He gives you a half-smile, one fang showing, dangerously smug and a little arrogant… well, very arrogant.

That look is unmistakably that of a predator about to pounce on its prey.

You pull the sheets up to cover yourself a bit more, as if there were any way to hide a nakedness that had clearly already been explored hours ago for… quite a while.

“What happened last night?” Your mind is racing and your heart feels like it’s about to leap out of your chest.

Leona growls softly, though he doesn’t seem to care in the slightest that you’re covering your “modesty.”

“After how loud you were all night, I figured you’d remember at least something.”

Your face goes nuclear red. You clutch the sheet tighter, but it’s useless. You’re in his bed, in his territory.

“Did we… sleep together?”

“Sleep?” You hear a low, amused scoff from his chest. “Oh, we did more than sleep… want me to remind you?”

He doesn’t need to. Your body does it for him.

Not only do you feel the dampness between your thighs, but there are bite marks along them, already starting to bruise, traitors that reveal just how intimate last night was.

You can feel a few on your neck and collarbone too; they don’t hurt, but you know they’re going to be bright red well into the morning.

Your own memories begin to surface: your hands in his hair as you both devoured each other’s mouths in the hallway, his low, rough voice murmuring when he finally pulled back, “Do you want me to take you to my bed, or do you want me to wreck you right here in the hallway?”

His lips moving from your shoulder down to your breasts, massaging one with his large palm while he trapped your nipple between his lips, licking it and making you arch your back.

“Say my name, again. Do it again” every time you moaned with each thrust. Your face buried in the pillow while he took you from behind, relentless and unhurried, panting heavily over you.

His hands roaming your entire body, strong, confident, taking what he wanted without asking; his teeth grazing your neck. Was it just one bite he left, or several?

His name on your lips every time he made you cum, even when he was nowhere near finishing himself. Pride mixing with hunger as he felt you clench those soft walls around his cock.

The boldness in your voice when you begged for more and more. “Please, harder… harder, Leona” How could he possibly say no?

You remember being on top of him, legs spread wide as you rode him desperately, thighs shaking; him leaning back, hands behind his head, enjoying his private show.

His strong hands on your ass, “helping” you move faster, impaling you with every thrust.

Leona coming inside you, holding you tight against him. “That’s it, little mouse, fill yourself up with me”

“You were wild—I barely managed to get your clothes off,” Leona pulls you out of your thoughts as he props himself up on one arm without a hint of shame, his body fully on display.

“Not that I’m complaining. You were pretty insistent when you rode me and asked for a second round. And a third.”

You let out a small squeak and cover your face with both hands. “Please, stop.”

Leona straightens and takes your hands in his, pinning them above your head against the pillow; he flips you onto your back with ridiculous ease, looming over you with a feral grin. You’re caged, completely at his mercy.

And gods, his body lit by the morning sunlight is far too delicious.

“You look incredibly tempting.” His gaze roams over your face and body, barely covered by the sheets.

He gives your shoulder a small bite and laughs when you let out a little yelp. “Want another round? Or breakfast so you don’t pass out on top of me?”

You glare at him, cheeks burning; you want to strangle him. Or kiss him. Possibly both.

“Breakfast… then we’ll see.”

He pecks your lips softly. “Good girl.” And then he gets out of bed without the slightest bit of modesty, tail swaying, letting you admire the scratch marks trailing down his back.

Jade

Why does the silence feel like you’ve been swallowed by the sea?

And why does it smell like seawater? And sea salt?

The room is so dim that the few rays of light filtering through the curtains make strange patterns on the bed.

And it’s a kind of dimness you haven’t seen in Ramshackle for a long time… which means, this is not your room.

Everything hurts; your throat is raw, your lips are swollen, your body heavy, like something squeezed you until there was nothing left.

You try to move but there’s a hand on your belly, a thumb lazily drawing small circles on your bare skin.

Bare skin…

BARE SKIN?!?!

You sit up—and it’s a very bad idea. The hangover slams into your head and you bring your hand up to your temple.

“Ah… looks like you’ve got a hangover, and considering how eager you were last night…”

You turn your head to find Jade’s smile—small and polite, but absolutely terrifying.

“Does my pearl need something to make her morning… more productive?”

“Jade…” your voice comes out hoarse and rough, and you cough, trying to clear the discomfort.

“Ah, I warned you I might wear you out. Seems I was right, hm?”

The memories hit you so hard they make your headache worse:

Jade pulling you away from the party, an astute glint in his eyes and his voice serene yet venomous, coaxing you into the comfort of his room—his bed.

His hands stripping away every piece of clothing until you stood naked before him, his fingers mapping your sensitive skin, anticipating every tremor, seeking out what made you sigh, moan, or arch.

Your boldness as you made him sit and you knelt in front of him, your lips around his cock, trying to take him deeper and deeper. His praises made your pussy wet and made you want to do better, his hands in your hair guiding you, helping you choke on him.

Your eyes brimming with tears when you looked up and saw him smiling, pleased, fingers caressing your cheek before plunging you into a fast, unkind rhythm, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat.

Your own mouth screaming in pleasure as he took you from behind, you on all fours on the bed, ass up, completely at the mercy of his hands and hips.

“Come on, little pearl, cum for me” the authority in his voice, impossible to resist, every word a praise tangled with a command.

Your climax hitting so hard it left you sprawled on the bed; Jade grabbing your head so you couldn’t move, your screams muffled by the pillow as he found a better angle to fuck you, making you cum again.

The taste of his cum when he made you take him back into your mouth and spill inside.

You swallow, trying to speak, but all that comes out is a shaky, ruined, “holy shit”

He runs his thumb over your hip bone, where the bruise from his grip is already fading… only to grab you there again, just as hard as you barely remember.

“Overwhelmed, maybe? Though I must say… you were so hungry for me you nearly made me mistake you for a predator.”

Jade sits up and the sheets slide even lower on his hips. He’s so tall it feels like he could cover you completely. He admires the bites and marks he left all over your chest, shoulders, and neck.

You’re his own personal canvas, and the fact that there are still places left unmarked… it’s intoxicating to him.

He pushes you back, slipping between your legs again, hands running along your sides before gripping your thighs and positioning them around his hips.

“Dare to tell me you regret it, little one.” When you shake your head, terrified but just as aroused, he adjusts your legs around his hips, letting you feel how half-hard and hungry for you he still is.

“Excellent,” he kisses the tip of your nose before rolling his hips, brushing against your clit. “So, do you want another round or some tea for that poor throat?”

You shiver, completely lost to his movements and the pleasure slowly building inside you.

“I won’t let you surface just yet, my pearl”

Jamil

For a few blissful seconds you think you’re safe in your own bed, within the walls of Ramshackle… until the scent of countless spices fills the air. Clove, cinnamon, something deep and intoxicating, spicy.

Yeah… you’re not in Ramshackle.

Is it wise to open your eyes with the sunlight filtering in through the window? Unfortunately, you’ll have to.

Eyes open and a hammering headache, you recognize the décor: elegant, gold details, Arabic architecture… Looks like you ended up in Scarabia.

Okay, one problem solved; now… who’s breathing against your neck, slow and steady?

You turn just enough to see the mess of dark tousled hair belonging to Jamil, splayed across the sheets and pillow. He’s on his stomach, facing you, eyes closed but with a small smile on his lips; his arm stretched out across your hips, giving you slow, gentle caresses.

You blink—once, twice, three times.

One more, just to give your brain a chance to process that his torso is bare and the sheets are dangerously low.

You freeze, memories hitting you in dizzying flashes through your hangover: his eyes shining in the half-light, pinning you with his gaze from across the lounge, like he was drawing you to him with nothing but his eyes.

Your body pressed to his while he whispered something in your ear that had nothing to do with the party, but still made your cheeks flush… more than they already were from the punch.

His hands, so careful with everything he handles, guiding you into a different kind of dance—one that didn’t need music or an audience; your laughter mixing with his before finding your lips, his mouth hungry.

The taste of spicy spices, and a hint of mint, with every kiss and stroke of his tongue across your skin, intoxicating and making you shiver.

Jamil kneeling at the edge of the bed, grabbing your feet and pulling you toward the edge so he could run his tongue along your soaked folds and slip it inside. Sucking on your clit until you were shaking.

The cry of his name when he made you cum with his fingers inside, curved and massaging your most sensitive spot.

His voice in your ear, soft but commanding, ordering, “Look at me, habibti” every word coaxing you closer to the edge. Sharp images of your wrists pinned above your head by his hands, of how he made you arch for him, Jamil’s long hair falling over your face as he watched you from above, his pupils blown wide and a bead of sweat trailing down his neck.

Your legs shaking, the pressure of his hand on your throat while he pounded into you again and again, his hips driving hard, his abs rubbing against your belly; his movements calculated, slow when you were desperate, brutal when you begged.

You let out a whimper, and that’s when Jamil opens his eyes. He blinks, then his gaze sharpens, lazy and sly.

“Morning”

Your mouth is dry, cheeks blazing. “Oh my Sevens… what happened last night?”

Jamil kisses your shoulder, moving up to your collarbone, your neck, up to your jaw before giving you a little bite.

“You don’t remember anything?”

“Fr-fragments.”

You feel his hand sliding down your thigh… and realize you’re also naked under the sheets.

Okay, yep, we fucked… got it.

“You were bold. Even eager.”

His hand slides up, up, reaching the wetness between your legs. Your skin lights up and a jolt runs down your spine.

“I regret not doing this sooner,” is all he says before claiming your lips again, his fingers slipping inside.

You moan into his mouth, biting his lower lip, heart stumbling—but all you care about is melting in Jamil’s arms.

“Let me take care of you, habibti,” he murmurs, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “I’ll make you forget about your hangover”

And when Jamil pulls you back under the sheets, you’re pretty sure you don’t want to remember anything but this.

Idia

The silence in the room is so intense it feels like you can hear your own breathing and heartbeat.

The first thing you notice is that the bed feels… off—not the pseudo-comfort you remember from your bed in Ramshackle.

Second, your head is about to explode; third, you’re naked and there’s a chill in the air, as if warmth doesn’t exist, making every hair on your body stand on end.

You crack one eye open, grateful that the blue light is diffuse and not too harsh, though it still hurts to look at.

Blue light… you turn your head and see a glowing skull. On the other side, way too many monitors crammed onto a single desk, one of those screens has thirty code windows open.

You bolt upright when you realize you’re not just in Idia’s room… you’re completely naked in Idia’s room.

There’s a groan beside you, the creak of bedsheets, and movement.

You turn around; a chaos of blue hair, pale bare shoulders, and a pair of yellow glowing eyes blinking at you from behind a curtain of messy hair.

Idia stares at you, mouth open, emitting a high-pitched, static-like whine; the ends of his blue hair turning pink, then pure red from embarrassment.

There’s a sound like a computer blue-screening right before Idia lets out a strangled squeak, scrambling backwards to put distance between you...then promptly falls off the bed with a loud crash.

“HOLY SHIT, IDIA!! ARE YOU ALRIGHT?”

“N-NO!! I’M NOT OKAY!! Wh-what did we do last night? Ohgodoh godohgodohgod—”

Idia grabs a pillow, but no matter how hard he tries, he’s bigger and taller than it.

He’s about to combust

“I died last night and on my way to the dorm something hit my head and I died again, and got isekai’d to some forbidden erotic world…”

You reach over and pinch his arm hard to bring him back to reality. “Ow!”

“This is real, Idia! We actually had sex!”

Heat rushes up your neck as flashes of last night come back: your hands on his, surprisingly warm, pulling him close to you in the middle of the party. Shy smiles, nervous giggles.

Idia’s inexperienced lips on your neck, his hands awkwardly squeezing your hips until you taught him how to hold you right.

His monotone voice now a whisper, full of need and want, “Are you sure? I-I’ve never—” and yours, suddenly bold, telling him you want him now.

The blue fire of his hair lighting up the darkness of his room and the naked skin of you both; the nervous way he looked at you and touched you, learning with every move of your hands over his on your hips, your breasts.

His eyes going wide as you guided his fingers to your clit and whispered in his ear how wet you were for him; his long, slender fingers working magic between your folds, barely realizing what he was doing.

Idia stammering as he tried to put on the condom backwards and failed—twice—begging you for help between gasps and awkward laughter. “Why is this so complicated? This… never happens in doujins…”

The exact moment he entered you for the first time, his breath hitching, a sharp, surprised moan as he felt himself inside you—slick and completely ready for him to go deeper, harder; to be entirely his.

Him finishing ‘embarrassingly’ fast (according to him). But all it did was make you want another round, and another, and another.

His lips traveling down your neck and, in a moment of sheer daring and lust, squeezing your breasts together to suck and bite your nipples at the same time, making you arch your back to give him more and more.

The way he moaned your name when you rode him for the first time, desperate not to finish too soon again, but absolutely mesmerized by the sight of your body so free and needy for him.

You taking complete control, hands on his chest, grinding your hips to rub your clit against his pelvis and clench your soft walls around his cock.

Idia groans with embarrassment, interrupting your lascivious memories.

“I-it’s not like… I mean, I’m not complaining or anything, it’s just… this is… max difficulty! Like, y-you’re like a goddess… most beautiful OP character… y-yeah and I—”

“And you’re Idia… was it at least good for you?”

His voice turns to static and he locks eyes with you in a rare burst of confidence.

“Good?! It was… it was overlord level. Uh. You were… really… really—”

Another memory hits: Idia clutching the sheets with every roll of your hips, moaning in time with you. His hands grabbing your hips, squeezing your thighs and holding on to you like his life depended on it.

After a while, still avoiding your gaze, Idia returns to the bed, hiding behind the pillow again. It’s almost cute...

No, it’s very cute. And funny.

You take the pillow away and let him curl up beside you again. For now, both of you log out of reality outside his room and let Idia melt under your touch.

Game over for virginity, am I right?

Silver

You wake up with the weight of an arm draped across your waist and the warmth of a body pressed against your back. The bed is way too comfortable, and your body… way too happy, though aching and with a hangover that could flatten you in the sun.

Little memories float to the surface: lights, very loud music, punch spiked with alcohol, a whirlwind of colors… and something silver blurring your vision.

Silver’s hair between your fingers as you kissed, his eyes—clear and bright—locked on yours in the middle of the chaos, giving you a look that told you both to take this moment somewhere else.

The feel of soft, sweet sheets on your bare skin stops your thoughts in their tracks, making you open your eyes and turn your head to the side.

Girl… you’ve got Silver, completely naked, behind you. His strong, well-trained arm pinning you against his chest.

Ahhhh… his chest; bare, rising and falling in a steady rhythm. He’s beautiful in that fairytale way that only storybooks promise.

How can someone, even while asleep, look so utterly tempting?

Why is there a tingling between your legs? And why can’t you feel them? Or rather… why do they feel so wet?

Your heart skips several beats. Holy. Shit.

I slept with Silver. I slept with Silver.

You can’t stop staring at the perfect physique of the man beside you, so muscular, drinking in the view, flashes of the night before returning in blinding white bursts:

Your laughter muffled against his shoulder in the middle of the makeshift dance floor, his voice low but steady whispering sweet things—and something that made your pussy throb, needy and expectant. The warmth of his hand on your waist as he led you to a deserted hallway to devour your mouth right there.

The taste of his lips, sweet and a little shy at first, but no less hungry and full of desire, his tongue sliding into your mouth and both hands gripping your thighs to lift you up and pin you to the wall.

His fingers playing with every button and fold of your clothes, peeling you out of each layer until you were completely exposed for him; the pressure as they slipped inside you and a moan escaped your lips.

His warm, solid body over you, until he sat you on his lap; face to face, your breasts pressed to his chest, your nipples rubbing against his skin as you bounced with each thrust of his hips, his arms holding you tight against him.

Gentle, noble kisses on your cheeks, your shoulders, even your knuckles; kissing you softly, slowly, savoring you and making you feel wanted and loved.

His cock sliding in and out of your dripping pussy with ease, not too fast, not too slow, wanting to set a pace that could last all night.

But your moans and pleas for him to go faster—“More, Silver, please, more”—made it a little difficult.

“I’ll give you everything, beautiful, just hold on tight”

And you did; to his shoulders, his arms, even to the sheets themselves when the pace sped up, laying you down on the bed, your legs thrown over his shoulders, the new angle making you cum again and again and again, so easily it was almost ridiculous.

You feel the tingling intensify down low and you shift.

Silver stirs and blinks awake. A few seconds of confusion before he notices your face, your bare shoulders, the way you’re clutching the sheet… adorable.

“Good morning beautiful”

And he says it with the most natural, gentle tone in the world.

“Are you alright?” he squeezes your waist and pulls you a little closer.

Boom, straight to the heart.

For a moment, he hesitates, thinking maybe… maybe, there’s regret in your eyes, maybe even shame.

Finding none, he gives you a soft kiss on the forehead and settles you against his chest; he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You look so beautiful in the morning, I want to wake up like this every day”

A soft kiss on your cheek, then another on your nose, then one more on your neck.

And, to finish, one slow, sweet kiss on your lips—savoring the promise of more in the future.

“If you want me to stop, just tell me.”

Anticipation shivers under your skin.

“Don’t stop”

╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌╌╌𖤐☽༓☾𖤐╌╌╌╌

Ace … and ... Deuce

You wake up with the worst hangover of your life—moving is a lost cause and opening your eyes isn’t even an option. You feel like you might throw up at any second and then just go back to sleep.

There’s a pounding behind your eyes, the kind that makes you swear you’ll never drink punch again… never drink punch that’s been tampered with by Ace; hell, you’ll never go to another party again.

You roll over and two things hit you: first, you’re naked, like, obscenely naked; second, someone is snoring rudely right in your ear.

A sharp flash stabs through your skull. You remember being squished from all sides while dancing, multiple hands on your waist, and two pairs of lips on your neck.

Turning left, you see Ace waking up. Looks like the hangover is killing him too. He grabs his head as he sits up, elbow propped on the mattress, lets out a heavy sigh and tries to open his eyes—and they lock with yours.

God knows how, but this bastardly redhead manages to give you the cockiest, most infuriating grin that makes you want to punch him right in the face.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty”

“Call me that again and I’ll shove your uniform shoe up your ass, Ace.”

Ace just grins wider and lets out a little laugh… followed by a pained groan as he closes his eyes, keeping the pain under control.

You smack his arm to wipe that smile off his face...and realize he’s just as naked as you.

“Ace… what the hell did you do?”

You blush, covering yourself with the sheets as much as you can, actually, even more. All that’s left is to cover your face and you’d be a mummy.

“Aww, don’t make that face, you’re the one who climbed on top of me after the punch.”

“You’re the one who spiked it!!”

“Didn’t hear you complaining when you were begging us for more—”

You smack him on the head with a pillow; your shrieks and his, plus the loud thump of the pillow, echo through the whole room.

“What the fuck… why are you two so noisy?”

Deuce’s voice sounds from behind you, raspy and just as hungover as you two.

You look at him… he looks at you… his eyes travel down to his own equally naked body… Confusion turns to horror, horror into high-pitched groans.

“What happened? What did we do? Why are we naked?!”

Between the throbbing headache and Deuce’s panicking, you try to remember a little more of this… wild rebellious night.

You remember being with the dynamic duo on the dance floor, Ace whispering dirty promises in your ear, Deuce pulling you closer to him. Then both of them trapping you between them.

Their taste—Ace like candy and mischief, Deuce like cinnamon and adrenaline.

The three of you running through Ramshackle’s halls, stumbling, sometimes collapsing in a tangle of laughs, hands, and feet.

The bed—Sevens, the bed. Sheets scattered everywhere; Ace’s mouth on your neck, Deuce’s trembling hands pulling off your clothes, both fighting over who would take off the last piece.

Spoiler: both of them did it with confident hands before lunging for your lips, your breasts, your legs.

Kisses mixed with laughter, limbs tangled, the chemistry between these two as they made you cume; sloppy at first, then more assured.

The pressure of one sliding between your legs, spreading you open and burying himself deep; the other opening your lips to take him in your mouth. Both working as a team, building a rhythm, admiring how your body adapted to being fucked from both ends.

“Look how we’re breaking you, baby. You’re so wet… I could drown in here,” Ace groaning, rough and loud, grabbing your hair and pushing you down on Deuce’s pelvis with every thrust.

“That’s it, pretty, just like that, don’t stop, swallow it all,” Deuce murmuring as his cock slides down your throat, robbing you of breath for a few delicious seconds.

The way they took turns—one in your pussy, the other in your mouth… but you also remember a sharper pressure at your ass.

The moment when they both wanted to be in your wet pussy together; when one pulled out, the other pushed in, stretching you until you screamed their names, rubbing together inside your softest, most sensitive spot.

The moment you didn’t just cum with both their cocks inside, but, thanks to the pressure and the delicious way they filled you...you squirted, soaking the bed, your belly, and probably Ace’s too.

You moaned, screamed, writhed; the boys turned on by seeing you so free, so full of them, Ace twisting your already-sensitive nipples, Deuce running his tongue over your dripping pussy.

Dizzy flashes of being held in the air, legs around Deuce hips, hands and arms held by Ace, your arms wrapped around his waist too. Each of them fucking you from a different end, watching your tits bounce with every thrust; a mess of spit, sweat, tears, and their cum leaking from both your holes.

The three of you collapsed in bed, panting; Deuce’s arm wrapped around your waist, Ace curled around your chest, fondling your extra-sensitive tit in a playful way—until he switched to gentle caresses. Both seeking your warmth and your touch.

Your breath catches with all the memories. The heat rises not just to your cheeks, but a lot, lot lower.

“I’m never drinking your punch ever again,” Deuce growls, holding his head.

“Don’t you wanna know how good we are at sharing this pretty princess?”

Deuce tosses a pillow at him, but with no force, Ace catches it with one hand, laughing.

The redhead just gets cockier, trapping you in his arms, your back pressed to his chest. You feel his lips leaving little kisses on your nape and cheeks.

Deuce, still hungover and dying of embarrassment, scoots in front of you, wrapping you up with one strong… very strong… arm.

Both of them attack you with twice as many kisses.

Riddle Rosehearts

You step into the lounge where Riddle is already waiting, pocket watch in hand, posture perfect as always. He looks up. His eyes go wide. Then wider. Then enormously wide. The pocket watch slips from his fingers and clatters to the floor.

“You…you’re not even dressed!” he’s voice cracking on the last word.

You blink. Look down at yourself. Look back at him. “…I am dressed, Riddle.”

He makes a strangled noise somewhere between a gasp and a teakettle. His face goes from pale to rose red in record time. He takes one step forward, then stops like he’s hit an invisible wall, hands fluttering uselessly. “That is…not… that garment barely qualifies as clothing!”

You cross your arms, which only makes the neckline dip lower, he makes another strangled sound and averts his eyes so fast you’re worried he’ll give himself whiplash. “Riddle, it’s just a dress. I feel cute in it.”

“Cute is one word.” he mutters, still staring at the ceiling. “Another word is dangerous to my health.”

He finally looks at you again and takes a deep, steadying breath. “For the sake of my sanity, my blood pressure… please. Change. Or at least add a cardigan. A very long cardigan.”

When you pout he looks genuinely pained. “…I’ll wear the matching couple’s jacket you like. The one with the hearts. Please...”

You end up compromising, you throw on that jacket. But he still blushes every time the light hits it just right.

Ace Trappola

Ace is on the couch scrolling magicam when you walk in. He glances up casually then does a double take so hard his phone almost flies out of his hand. “Holy…babe. Babe.”

A huge, dorky, shit eating grin spreads across his face. He sits up straight, leans forward, props his chin in both hands like he’s at the theater watching the best show of his life. “Turn around. Yeahhh, that’s the stuff. Damn, you’re serving tonight.”

He’s openly stare, eyes sparkling, already mentally saving mental screenshots. You do a little spin for him and he whistles. Then…about five seconds later…reality crashes in. “Wait. Wait wait wait. We’re going out. Like, to the town. Around people. Who will also see this.”

The grin falters. He suddenly looks like a man who just realized he left his wallet at home after ordering the most expensive thing on the menu. “Nope. No way. Absolutely not.”

He jumps up, yanks his hoodie off in one motion, and practically shoves it at you. “At least put this on. Please. I’m begging. I’ll literally get on my knees. I cannot handle every single guy staring at my girlfriend’s…” he gestures vaguely at your entire torso “everything.”

You raise a brow. “Jealous, Trappola?”

“Territorial!” he corrects instantly. “Huge difference. Now put the hoodie on before I start crying or start a fight. Probably both.”

He spends the entire date with his arm glued around your waist, glaring at anyone who looks longer than two seconds. The hoodie stays on. He still sneaks peeks at your back side every chance he gets.

Leona Kingscholar

You step out and announce “Ready!” with a little twirl.

Leona already half dozing against the wall, cracks one eye open. Then both. He drags his gaze very slowly from your ankles all the way up, lingering shamelessly on every exposed inch before meeting your eyes. A lazy smirk curls his lips.

“You’re gonna be cold.” he drawls. “And then you’re gonna whine about it. Loudly. For hours.”

You huff. “I won’t whine.”

“You always whine.” He pushes off the wall, stretches like a big cat. “But if you’re comfortable freezing your pretty ass off just to look hot, that’s on you, herbivore.”

He doesn’t try to stop you. Doesn’t demand you change. Doesn’t even look particularly bothered. Instead he just grabs his own jacket off the back of a chair, slings it over one shoulder, and jerks his head toward the door. “Let’s go. If you start shivering I’m draping this over you whether you like it or not. And then I’m gonna say ‘told you so’ until you beg me to shut up.”

He does exactly that three blocks later. You’re warped up in his jacket, and he’s walking with smug satisfaction while you grumble. He just mutters “Cute when you’re stubborn.”

Floyd Leech

You step out in the outfit and do a playful little “ta-da!”

Floyd’s eyes light up like Christmas lights. His grin stretches ear to ear, sharp teeth on full display. “Ehhhh〜? Shrimpy looks delicious todayyy~”

You laugh and do a spin, asking “What do you think? Is it too much? Too revealing? I wasn’t sure if…”

He’s not listening…At all.

His mismatched eyes are locked on your cleavage like it personally owes him money. Head tilted. Pupils blown wide.

“…Floyd?”

“Mmm?” Still staring.

“Eyes up here.”

He blinks slowly. Drags his gaze upward like it physically pains him. The grin somehow gets wider. “Too revealing? Nahhh〜 It’s perfect. Shows off all my favorite parts~”

He reaches out, hooks one long finger under the neckline “I could stare at this all day. Let’s cancel going out.”

You swat his hand away. He pouts dramatically but lets you drag him toward the door.

He spends the entire date with his arm slung possessively around you, chin resting on top of your head, occasionally dipping down to whisper little compliments directly into your ear. Half the time he’s not even watching where he’s going, he’s too busy enjoying the view.

Jamil Viper

You walk out confidently. Jamil looks up from where he’s adjusting his bracelets. His eyes flick over you once head to toe then again, slower.

“You look gorgeous” he says, voice smooth and appreciative.

You start to smile.

“Now go change.”

Your smile drops. “What?”

He doesn’t even look guilty. Just raises one brow like you’re being unreasonable. “That outfit is for private viewing only. We’re going to a public place with other people who have eyes. Change.”

You open your mouth to argue. He cuts you off with a single look, the ‘we both know how this ends’ look.

You try anyway. “But I like it. And you just said I look gorgeous.”

“You do. Which is why I’m not sharing the view.” He steps closer, voice dropping. “Change. Or I’ll carry you back in there myself and pick something else out. Your choice.”

You cross your arms. He just waits, patient, unruffled. Three minutes later you’re back in something significantly less revealing. Jamil gives a small, satisfied nod. “Good. Now we can go.”

He still keeps a protective hand on your lower back the entire time you’re out. Just in case.

Lilia Vanrouge

You step out and Lilia’s eyes light up like fireworks. “Fufufu! Darling, you look stunning! Absolutely ravishing!”

He floats in a quick circle around you, clapping his hands in delight. “The cut! The color! The way it hugs every curve! Perfection! And ohhh~” He stops behind you. “Your booty looks gorgeous in this! A true work of art!”

You laugh, half embarrassed, half flattered. “Is it… too much? Does it bother you that it’s so revealing?”

Lilia blinks at you like you just asked something unbelievable. “Bother me? My sweet love, I love the vibe! You’re confident, you’re sexy, you’re turning heads before we even leave the room, why would that bother me?” He grins, fangs glinting. “I want everyone to see what a gorgeous person I’ve claimed.”

Then he claps once. “Wait right there! One moment!”

He zips away in a blur. Thirty seconds later he’s back now wearing low cut shirt with a cropped black jacket with silver chains, leather pants, and boots that match yours perfectly. “Now we match~ Shall we go cause chaos, my love?”

You two end up getting stopped for photos almost every ten feet. You two hold too much power.

"you're so shiny," luffy panted, squeezing your chest with his left hand and your ass with the other. his eyes were blown wide, enraptured by your glistening body. "and you're all mine." a blissful sigh left your lips as luffy's bulge glided against your slit, in addition to his constant fondling of your body. a wet patch had begun forming on his shorts—mostly due to your own slick, but even he was contributing to the mess. you never expected him to be so entranced by your costume, but perhaps it was his inner pirate speaking. "i'm glad you like it, luf," you said, moving your lips to meet luffy's. if it weren't for the glitter on your skin, you were sure luffy would have left an innumerable number of hickeys across your body. luffy pulled away, a string of saliva connecting the two of you. "i need more," he gasped, seizing your body and pressing you down into the bed. suddenly, the thought of being covered in hickeys didn't seem impossible anymore.

RORONOA ZORO is wrapped up as a mummy, and you're about to raid his tomb!

you knew zoro wasn't going to put any effort into a costume, so it was up to you to find something he wouldn't try to strip out of. zoro was already used to wearing bandages (L) so it wasn't hard to wrap a couple around his arms, legs, and one across his head for good measure. your costume was far more detailed; a high-quality recreation of a certain gun-wielding, tank top wearing archaeologist.

from the start, zoro wasn't able to keep his eyes off you. the way you moved, the way you talked, the way you stood in that outfit was enough to make him twitchy all night (and his costume was not helping his predicament.) some partygoers speak to you normally, while others take daring glances at your costume. zoro is not pleased with either group.

really, the more he thought about it, this whole party and costume thing was your fault. by the time you get back to your shared cabin on the sunny, zoro is already peeling his bandages off, eager to be done with tonight. you, on the other hand, are enthusiastically helping zoro de-bandage himself. after all, it just means he has to help you disrobe afterwards, right?

zoro's fingers gripped the band your tight shorts, as if he was about the rip them off, only to squeeze your ass instead with his large hands. despite your request for him to help you undress, he seemed more eager for you to keep the outfit on. "you should wear shit like this more often," he snorted, running one of his hands down your thigh, reaching the thigh strap and sneaking a finger around the elastic. zoro pulled on it, stretching the band and letting it thwack against your flesh. you let out a moan, gritting your teeth at the sweet sting. zoro's hands were already up at your chest, ripping the buttons off your shirt and exposing your chest. a satisfied grin lined his face as he leaned back, bringing your hands down to his zipper. "your turn to help me undress, babe," he said, letting you feel the hard tent forming in his tan pants. you steeled your resolve, accepting that this striptease was only just the beginning of tonight.

VINSMOKE SANJI is disguised as a handsome lion, and you're his ringmaster!

when the idea of a costume party was first conceived, sanji immediately floated matching costume ideas to you. "chef and cupcake" was a cute idea in theory, but you weren't looking forward to the execution. besides, you were incredibly excited to carry sanji by a collar for the night! probably not as excited as he was, however.

sanji behaved like a guard dog the whole night—maybe guard lion would be a better word—chasing off pervs with a nasty look in his eye and giving you a nice, fuzzy shoulder to lean on after you had a couple glasses of punch. of course, mr. lion couldn't stop himself from whispering the pretty plans you two had after the party into your flushed ear.

your hands are all over each other by the time you get back onto the ship. only once you get into your room do your hands slip under the clothes and into the sheets. the costume you received came with some props that you initially had no use for, but sanji can find a use for any tool.

"toys are on the dresser," you gasped out as sanji sucked the side of your neck, the two of you practically stumbling into your room. sanji's shirt had been thrown to the ground while the buttons on your own were popped open, exposing your chest. you threw yourself on the bed, arching your back and waiting for sanji to grab whichever toys interested him the most. seconds later he stood over you, holding a collar and whip in his hands—the latter was a bold choice, you'd never expected him to take that one. "i thought it'd be cute, having the ringmaster be subdued," sanji chuckled, fastening the collar to your neck with a click! "no need to brace yourself either, mon minou, i'd rather die than lay a hand on you." with a skill you didn't know sanji had, he loosely tied the whip around your wrists, securing you to the headboard. "ready, mon amour? we're both in for a long night," he sighed in bliss, straddling himself over your lower half. next year, you were definitely using this costume again.

PORTGAS D. ACE is dressing up as a firefighter, and you're matching as his loyal dalmation!

at first, it was hard to convince ace to dress up as something antithetical to his position as fire fist, but after telling him he could be shirtless for the costume, he was 100% on board! he was also a fan of your costume, flicking your ears up and down and up and—

the party was a blast, and ace was eager to show off your costumes to partygoers, making silly poses and taking plenty of photos. despite being a devil fruit user, ace also insists on being a real firefighter. as such, the deviant carries around a water gun to use whenever and on whoever he sees fit—even spraying you straight in the chest, drenching your spotted costume.

your boyfriend quickly hands over his firefighter jacket, covering your body and escorting you to a bedroom to help dry your shirt off. ace's powers are almost ideal—as long as you keep about 5 feet between you and the fire. luckily, his hands seen warm enough to help. and with a little persuasion, maybe you can find an even warmer part.

"a-are you sure this the best way?" ace stammered, his face so red it matched the beads around his neck. the clearly excited smile on ace's face betrayed his seeming apprehension—the pervert was clearly begging for you to keep going. "maybe you're right," you sighed, pulling his warm hands away from your chest, much to his obvious disappointment. you slid off the bed and saddled yourself on the floor, sitting right between his legs. "you locked the door, right ace?" you said, moving your hands to his zipper. all your boyfriend could do was nod his head frantically, his goofy smile reappearing as he shrugged off his boxers with your help. "god, i fucking love you baby," he sung in pleasure as his cock went into your shirt, feeling his heat spread across your tits. throwing his head back in pleasure, ace made a mental note to dress up more often.

SABO wants to be a knight this evening, and he needs a princess to match!

no one else commits harder to a joke than sabo. and sabo's idea of a joke is wearing a full, authentic suit of armor to a party. likewise, he insists you wear an authentic dress to match. puffy sleeves, real silk, and fine lace adorn your body in such a tight way that it's almost hard to breathe. sabo just slaps your back (with a metal covered hand, ouch) and tells you it'll just be a couple hours. the two of you have done crazier things in the bedroom than this, he says. asshole.

he enjoys keeping his face covered by his helmet, then surprising friends and partygoers by flipping it up. and, as your knight, he insists on being by your side, protecting you from anyone who dare attack his princess! (like the maniac running around with a water gun)

after the party, the two of you are happy to shed your uncomfortable, but still very impressive, costumes. sabo gets his suit of armor off before you can even attempt to shrug off a shoe. but now that he's free from his metal prison, he's more than happy to help his princess undress.

"it would have been fun to try this at the party," sabo chuckled, forcing you to arch your back as he yanked on the lacing of your dress. "oops, that just made it tighter! my bad, sweetie." "asshole," you managed to squeeze out, feeling sabo's bulge press closer against your ass. "just help get your princess out of this contraption." the bastard was getting too big a kick out of this, and all you wanted to do was get out of this damn dress. a hand traveled beneath your skirt, flipping the fabric up and exposing your backside. "theres gotta be a zipper around here somewhere, right baby? any ideas?" sabo whistled, and you couldn't help but snicker at his comment this time. "it's an older model—comes with a keyhole! but you need a pretty big key to get in." you wiggled your ass for emphasis, giggling at your own joke. from behind you heard a hearty laugh, followed by the sound of a buckle being undone. you figured you could stand being in this overly tight silk for just a bit longer. or at least until sabo ripped it off you.

EUSTASS KID begrudgingly accepts his devil costume, only as long his angel accompanies him!

from the start, kid isn't a fan of wearing a costume. only once you tell him about the party aspect does kid accept the idea of this "costume" you speak of. kid's regular attire fits the description of "devil" well enough, so all you do is add a horned headband and tell him to look extra red and evil for tonight. you, on the other hand, dress in as much white as possible, complete with fluffy wings and a halo to match.

at the party, all kid cares about is getting as hammered as possible. he's laughing with his crew, beer in hand with you sitting on his lap. despite his earlier attitude towards his costume, he seems to get really in character after a few drinks, making comments about how a "devil like him" got with an "angel like you," flicking your wings for extra emphasis.

by the time the party's dispersed, you're dragging an excited kid back to your shared room. he's handsy the whole way through, and his comments about your costumes have gone up a notch, clearly more interested than he was at the start of the night. kid's got plans in his head even before the door closes, and he's ready to enact these new fantasies.

"c'mere babe, 'wanna hold ya," kid laughed, falling into his chair. he patted his thigh, beckoning you over. the horns you made him wear at the start of the party still sat on his head, blending in with his hair and making him look like a real demon. "hold me? like, cuddling?" you replied coyly, doing your best to play the part of "pure angel" as you sat in his lap. given the huge ass grin on his face, you took it as a sign that you were doing a splendid job. "virgin angel needs a devil to teach 'er." kid slipped a hand under your dress, using his other hand to play around with your wings. "could rip these babies off, teach ya about pain and pleasure—the two good things in life." his breath was hot against your ear, and you shuddered as he gave your ass a firm squeeze. "i'm a fast learner," you gasped, leaning into his body. a part of you wondered how far kid would take this roleplay, but an even bigger part of you wondered how much of your costume would be left by the end of this long, long night.

KILLER is decked out as jason, and watch out, you're his final girl!

it's easy to get killer to dress up, mostly because jason's mask also has near identical holes to killer's usual mask. but he also has fun helping you dress up, cutting up and splattering your survivalist outfit with fake blood in order look the part. you have your own fun, playing around with different hairstyles like your boyfriend was your own personal doll. a doll caked in fake blood, that is.

the party was fun, and despite what your costumes suggested, you and killer were attached to each other the whole night. while killer would show everyone his new punishers, replaced with machetes to match his costume, you'd stick a straw through one of his mask holes so that he could sip.

on the way back to the ship with the rest of the crew, killer pulls you off to the side to whisper in your ear. his idea? you get a 30 second head start to run into the island, and then killer will be hot on your trail. a countdown isn't necessary—you start your sprint into the woods while your boyfriend's laugh echoes in the distance.

you gasped for air, ducking under branches and leaping over exposed roots. if it weren't for your combat boots, you'd surely have face-planted about five minutes ago. in the distance you could hear killer approaching, and he was doing it quickly. with a flourish, you threw yourself against a tree, pretending to lean against it for support to catch your breath. in an instant, you felt your chest press against the tree, a large machete cutting into the trunk right beside you. killer's body pressed itself into you, and you could feel something else pressing into your body as well. "caught you," he whispered into your ear, sending a chill down your spine. "you gonna beg for mercy, pretty girl?" killer's knee positioned itself between your legs, and you couldn't help but slightly grind on it. "oh please mr. scary killer! if you let me go, i'll make it worth your while!" you cried out, unable to hide the sly smile on your face. cold metal touched your back as killer's machete cut open the back of your shirt. as eager as you were for the main course, you prayed that killer had something new for you to wear on your walk back to the ship.

TRAFALGAR LAW accepts his position as doctor, but only if he has his trusty nurse!

costumes aren't law's thing—he's the type to value comfort over looks in nearly every situation. but he's already got a stethoscope in the medical bay and a lab coat in his closet, so it was meant to be! after you told ikkaku about your idea, she gleefully fished a skimpy nurse outfit from a box, complete with a nurse cap to match. once law sees you try it on, he no longer complained about having to wear his doctor costume.

law's nursing (lmao) a drink in his hand for nearly the whole event, always trailing behind you like a lost puppy who would rather be at home reading a book. eventually you find a couch you two can cuddle on while also catching up with some old friends. law pouts through most of it, setting his chin on your head while you relax on his lap.

back on the submarine, law just wants to be in his boxers and get to bed. as he's on the side of your bed, kicking off his pants, you approach, sliding yourself on his lap. you fiddle with the collar of his lab coat and run your fingers down his stethoscope, informing him that he needed to complete his physical exam before bed.

"you've got a bit of a fever, doc," you said, pressing the back of your hand against law's forehead. as you did so, you pushed your clothed cunt against the tent in law's boxers, eliciting a low moan from the man. you tutted, "thats not a good sign, mr. trafalgar." you continued grinding against him, pulling gently on his stethoscope. "any idea what it could be, doc? i'd love to help, but it's hard to find the source of this problem." "just," law hissed, his hips twitching upwards into yours, "keep doing that. keep moving your hips." law's mouth swept over your exposed collarbone, peppering harsh kisses into your skin. "you got it, doc!" you said with cheer, slipping a finger into the band of his boxers and yanking them down. law's cock sprang free, and you allowed it to sit snuggly between your ass. if law's grip on your body was anything to go by, you were definitely on the right path for a cure.

Luffy stretches his arms “Alright! Let’s go explore!”

Usopp nods “Let’s split up! We’ll cover more ground!”

You feel warm. Maybe too warm. That third drink… or was it the fourth? Either way, your head is spinning just a little. But your smile won’t leave your face.

Nami pulls out a map “Okay, I’ll go with Sanji, Chopper, Zoro, and Y/N.”

“Eh? Why am I in that group?” Zoro asks, already frowning.

Nami smirks “Because I said so. Try not to get lost this time.”

You giggle and stumble a little “I’ll make sure he doesn’t.”

Zoro looks at you, arms crossed “You can’t even stand straight.”

You step forward and grab his arm “That’s why I need you.” Your voice is soft. Sweet. Maybe a little loud.

Zoro freezes. His cheeks turn the faintest pink. He glances around—people are watching “H-Hey. Don’t cling like that.”

You grin and press your cheek to his shoulder “But you’re warm.”

“Oi, marimo,” Sanji says, cigarette between his lips, “If she wants to hold you, let her. You lucky bastard.”

“Shut it, curly-brow,” Zoro mutters “She’s drunk.”

“I’m not drunk,” you mumble “Just happy.”

Chopper runs ahead, excited “Let’s find some cool shops!”

You keep holding onto Zoro’s arm as the group walks. He keeps trying to shake you off, gently. But you won’t let go.

“Y/N,” he says in a low voice “People are staring.”

“So?” You look up at him with a small smile “I like holding you.”

He sighs “You’re impossible.”

“But you love me” you tease.

He looks away, his voice barely a whisper “…Yeah.”

You blink “What?”

“Nothing” he grunts.

Nami glances back and smiles “You guys are so cute.”

Zoro groans “Don’t start.”

You lean even closer “Zoro~”

“What now?”

“Carry me.”

“No.”

“Pleaaase?”

Sanji laughs “I’ll carry you, mademoiselle—”

“No!” Zoro snaps. He sighs again and crouches “Fine. Get on.”

You cheer quietly and hop onto his back. Your arms go around his neck “Zoro’s the best…”

“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t puke on me.”

You rest your head on his shoulder, finally closing your eyes.

Zoro walks, steady and strong, even with you on his back.

Behind you, Nami whispers to Sanji, “He’s totally soft for her.”

Sanji shrugs “Still don’t get what she sees in that mosshead.”

Zoro’s ear twitches “I can hear you, idiots.”

The streets are quieter now. Fewer lights. Fewer people.

You’re still on Zoro’s back, half-asleep. Your cheek rests against his shoulder. His body is warm, and his footsteps steady.

Sanji walks ahead with his hands in his pockets. Chopper’s beside him, talking excitedly about a candy shop he saw. Nami looks at the stars.

Then it happens.

“Oi, oi… look at those two up front.”

The voice comes from a shadowed alley. A group of men steps out. Maybe five… no, more. Eight? Ten?

All of them wear smug grins and old, ragged clothes. Drunk or bored, or both.

“Redhead’s got legs for days” one of them whistles.

Another points at you “And that one’s already clinging to her man. What a shame.”

You blink slowly, still a little tipsy, but even you catch that.

Zoro stops walking.

Nami’s eyes narrow “Great.”

Sanji steps forward fast, arm out in front of Nami and Chopper “Let me handle this.”

Zoro lowers you gently to the ground “Can you stand?”

You nod smiling proudly at you don't even know what “Mmhm. I’ll try my best”

He steps away from you, his hand already on one sword.

The men keep talking.

“Hey sweetheart,” one says to Nami, “you and your friend here, ditch the blond twig, the dog and that Grinch. We’ll show you a good time.”

Another laughs “Yeah the drunk one too. Bet she’s easy.”

Everything goes still.

Sanji’s eyes glow with rage “What did you say?”

Zoro doesn’t speak. He just draws his sword with a soft shing.

The leader of the group smirks “Look at these pretty boys. Gonna cry?”

Sanji takes off his jacket slowly “Nami-swan, Chopper—stay back.”

Chopper grabs Nami’s hand and pulls her behind a cart “Be careful!”

Zoro turns his head slightly toward you “Sit down. This’ll be quick.”

You nod and sit near the cart, leaning against it.

The men charge first, loud and sloppy.

Bad idea.

Sanji moves like fire, one man down with a spinning kick.

Zoro is calm and cold. His sword flashes but he doesn’t cut them, just knocks them flat with the dull side. Quick. Clean. Brutal.

But then someone tries to sneak around.

Toward you.

“Hey, maybe I’ll take the quiet one... she cute”

Zoro’s blade is at the man’s neck in a second. His voice is low, dangerous.

“Say another word.”

The man gulps.

“Zoro” you whisper. You’ve never seen his eyes like this. Sharp. Dark.

“I’m fine,” he says “But I don’t like people looking at you like that.”

Sanji grabs another by the collar and slams him into the ground “Next time you look at a lady like that, I’ll rearrange your face.”

The rest scatter fast. Limping, running, one even crawls away.

Silence again.

Chopper peeks out “Is it over?”

Nami sighs “Yeah. Idiots.”

Zoro walks back to you. He crouches “You okay?”

You nod “They were gross.”

He offers his hand. You take it.

“Next time,” he says, “stay close.”

“I was literally on your back.”

He grunts “Still.”

You smirk “Were you jealous?”

He looks away “…No.”

“You were.”

He doesn’t answer, just picks you up again, bridal-style this time.

You blink “What are you doing?”

“You can’t walk, and I’m not letting you fall behind.”

Sanji lights another cigarette, muttering, “Show-off.”

Zoro ignores him. You wrap your arms around his neck again, this time without teasing.

“Thanks” you whisper.

His voice is soft, only for you “Always.”

Zoro still holds you in his arms as the group walks again. You rest against his chest, eyes half-closed, smile lazy.

But after a few more steps, you squirm a little.

“Zoro?”

“Hm?”

“You can put me down. I can walk now.”

He pauses “You sure?”

You nod “Promise. I’m not that drunk anymore.”

He stops and gently lowers you onto your feet. His hands linger on your arms a second longer, just in case you stumble.

You wobble just a little but stay up.

“See?” you say with a proud smile “Told you.”

He nods “Fine. But don’t fall again.”

You start to walk, but then he does something strange.

He reaches down… and takes your hand.

Your eyes widen a little. So do Nami’s.

Even Chopper notices “Whoa… Zoro’s holding hands?!”

Zoro doesn’t let go. He doesn’t look embarrassed, either. Just keeps walking like it’s nothing.

Nami raises an eyebrow “Since when do you hold hands in public?”

Sanji raises both eyebrows “Yeah, mosshead, you sick? Got a fever or something?”

Zoro glances at them “Tch. I just don’t want her tripping.”

Chopper runs up beside him, grinning “But you never do that! That’s so cute!”

Zoro sighs but doesn’t snap “Yeah, well. You’re fine, Chopper. Just don’t push it.”

You look at him. Really look. His face is calm now, jaw relaxed, grip warm around your fingers. Not too tight. Not too loose. Just… right.

You don’t know why you feel shy suddenly.

But you say it anyway.

“I have a crush on you. Do you like me back?”

The group stops walking.

Zoro blinks. His eyes meet yours.

“I’m your husband...” he says, flatly “Literally.”

You freeze. Then blink “Oh yeah.”

And then you squeal.

You start bouncing in place, grinning like crazy “You do like me!”

Zoro doesn’t even try to hide the tiny smile that pulls at his lips.

You drop his hand and throw your arms around his neck “Zoro, I like you so much!”

He catches you easily “Yeah, I know.”

And then you kiss him.

Right there. In the middle of the street.

It’s soft but sure. You lean into him. He lets it happen.

He kisses you back.

Chopper covers his mouth “Oh my god…!”

Nami gasps, then laughs “This is so going in my diary.”

Sanji nearly drops his cigarette “I hate this timeline.”

Zoro pulls back just a little, still holding you “You’re drunk.”

You whisper, “But not that drunk.”

He exhales slowly “Yeah. Sure.”

You rest your forehead against his “I love you.”

He answers without thinking “I love you too.”

Another pause.

“You just said that out loud?” Nami shouts.

Sanji groans loudly “This is a nightmare.”

Chopper claps his hooves “They’re in love! So cute!”

Zoro finally sets you back down, brushing your hair out of your face.

“Come on,” he says “Let’s go back before the idiots behind us explode.”

── .✦ Sanji:

The Thousand Sunny docks at a bright island full of music, shops, and food stalls. The air smells like grilled fish and sweet fruit. It’s the kind of place the crew loves.

“Let’s eat everything!” Luffy cheers.

“You say that on every island” you say, smiling.

“Because it’s always true!”

You walk beside Sanji, your fingers brushing his. He takes your hand without even looking and brings it to his lips.

“My beautiful angel,” he murmurs “Shall we find a feast worthy of your beauty?”

“Just one that won’t kill us,” you joke “Please.”

The crew ends up at a cozy restaurant near the center of town. There’s a band playing outside, and the tables are shaded with bright cloths. People are drinking and laughing everywhere.

“Find a seat,” Sanji says “I’ll handle the food.”

You touch his arm “Don’t take too long.”

“Only death could keep me from you, mon amour.”

You roll your eyes, but your heart does that little flutter. Sanji always talks like that. He means it too, in his own dramatic way.

You sit with Nami, Robin, and the others. Everyone’s talking and laughing. Luffy tries to steal bread from someone else’s plate. Typical.

At the counter, Sanji orders. That’s when two women walk in, locals, dressed in soft, colorful clothes. They spot him instantly.

“Oh no,” Nami mutters “Look who just walked into his life.”

You turn and see them. One’s got curly black hair, the other wears silver earrings that swing when she walks. Both walk straight to Sanji.

You watch calmly.

“Hi, stranger” says the taller girl.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” the short one asks, leaning close.

Sanji smiles politely “Just visiting. I’m with friends.”

“Too bad,” the tall one says “We were hoping you’d say you were alone.”

“Oh? Then I must break your hearts, ladies,” he says, still smiling “I’m already spoken for.”

Your chest warms at that. But still… he doesn’t leave.

Then the shorter one laughs and says, “Just one drink. That’s not cheating.”

Sanji hesitates. He looks toward your table. He meets your eyes.

You shrug with a soft smile “Go ahead.”

He raises an eyebrow “Are you sure?”

You nod “You’re too polite to say no anyway.”

He stands there for a moment longer. Then he sighs dramatically, presses a hand to his heart, and says, “Forgive me, my love. It’s only a drink.”

“Don’t fall in love with anyone” you say.

“Impossible. You already own my heart.”

He walks with them to a small table in the corner. They giggle. One pours him something pink into a glass. He keeps his hands to himself, posture perfect, but he talks, smiles, flatters. You can almost hear the compliments from here.

Zoro leans closer “You’re really letting him do that?”

“Why not?” you say, sipping your drink.

“He’s literally flirting right now.”

“No. He’s just being Sanji.”

Robin chuckles “You trust him.”

You nod “I do.”

Still, your eyes don’t leave him. Even if your heart knows he’s yours, it’s hard to ignore two girls laughing at his jokes.

After ten minutes, he stands up, bows, and walks back. One of them tries to touch his arm, but he gently steps away.

“Thank you, ladies. But my real treasure is waiting for me.”

When he sits beside you again, you hand him a glass of water.

“Done being too polite?” you ask.

He takes the glass “It was torture, I swear.”

“You looked like you were enjoying yourself.”

“I was praying you’d come save me.”

You laugh “Liar.”

He leans closer “I only ever mean it when I talk to you.”

You smile and take a bite of your food.

But you don’t let go of his hand under the table.

The meal is almost done. Luffy’s plates are stacked like a tower. Usopp is bragging about something that never happened. You lean back in your chair, sipping a cold drink. Sanji sits beside you, close but calm.

You feel his warmth next to you. You feel… okay.

Until they show up again.

The same two girls from earlier. The tall one waves. The short one smiles like she’s just so happy to see him again.

“Is this seat taken?” the short one asks, already pulling over a chair next to Sanji.

“You’re back,” Sanji says politely “What a surprise.”

You don’t say anything. You’re watching. Listening.

They sit anyway.

Tall girl rests her arm on the back of Sanji’s chair “You left so fast earlier. We didn’t get to hear more about you.”

Short Girl adds, “We’ve never met someone so… elegant. You must be used to lots of attention.”

Sanji chuckles nervously “Please, you flatter me.”

You raise an eyebrow. He’s not leaning toward them, but he’s not moving away either. He’s being polite. Too polite.

You glance at Zoro. He’s smirking.

Nami mutters under her breath, “I’d slap them.”

Robin sips her drink “This is getting interesting.”

One of the girls tries to feed Sanji something off her plate.

You drop your fork.

Everyone goes silent for a second.

Sanji finally leans back “Ladies, I can’t—”

You stand up slowly. You smile. But not the nice kind.

You walk over and rest your hand gently on his shoulder. He turns to you like the sun just came out. You don’t look at him yet. You look at the girls.

And you say, loud and clear “That’s my husband.”

The words hit the table like thunder.

Both girls freeze. One blinks. The other pulls her hand back like she touched fire.

Sanji turns bright red. His eyes go wide. Then his mouth falls open “Y-your… husband?”

You finally look at him.

“Yes. You’re my husband, aren’t you?”

He starts nodding so fast it’s like his head is going to fall off.

“I’m your husband!” he says, grinning like an idiot, heart eyes in full bloom “Forever and ever! I belong to you, my love!”

He grabs your hands, kisses them one after the other “Your husband. Only yours. Always.”

You smile sweetly at the girls “Thanks for keeping him entertained.”

They stand up awkwardly, mutter something, and walk away quickly.

Sanji’s still holding your hands. Still blushing. Still staring at you like you just saved his life.

“I love when you get possessive” he whispers.

“You just love when I call you ‘husband’” you say.

“…Maybe.”

You lean down and kiss his cheek “Then behave, husband.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

Sanji’s still holding your hands like they’re sacred treasure. The girls are gone, the crew is snickering quietly, and you finally sit back down beside him.

He hasn’t taken his eyes off you.

“You’re incredible” he whispers.

“You’re lucky I am.”

He gives you a dreamy sigh “Marry me again.”

“You’d flirt with the waitress at the wedding.”

He gasps “I would never!”

“You’d compliment her hair while holding my hand.”

“…I would,” he admits “But I’d still only see you.”

You give him a look. That look.

And then you glance down at his hands.

“Hey.”

“Yes, angel?”

“Why didn’t you wear your ring today?”

He blinks “What?”

You raise an eyebrow “It’s usually easier once they see that you’re taken.”

Sanji looks down at his bare left hand like he just noticed it. Then he immediately starts digging in his coat pocket.

“I—I was washing dishes this morning!” he says, panicking “I didn’t want to scratch it! I swear I meant to put it back on!”

“Uh-huh.”

He finally finds it. A simple gold band, a little worn from kitchen life, but still shining.

He grabs your hand and slides it on with dramatic care, like he’s proposing again.

“There. Forgive me?”

You hold up your hand and show him the matching one on your finger.

“I always wear mine.”

He groans “I’m the worst husband ever.”

You lean in close “You really are.”

He tilts his head, eyes hopeful “But I’m your husband.”

You sigh, pretending to be annoyed, but you can’t help the smile creeping across your face.

“Yeah,” you say softly “You are.”

He lights up again.

“You make me crazy” you say.

He kisses your hand “Then let’s be crazy together.”

“Get a room, this is disgusting.” Zoro says while drinking.

“Nooo, no room. I want to see.” Brook replies getting punched by Nami before he can even do his usual laugh.

The crew laugh but you don’t put your eyes away from your husband, blushing and smiling softly and he does the same.

── .✦ Law:

The fire crackles in the middle of the camp. Meat sizzles, drinks pour, and the air is full of laughter and victory.

The war is over. Kaido is down.

Tonight is for celebration.

You're sitting close to Law, sake cup in hand. It’s warm in your chest now. The fourth cup? Maybe fifth? You lost count. Whatever. You’re relaxed. Happy. Tipsy.

You lean back, stretch, and laugh at a joke Usopp just told, even if you didn’t fully hear it.

Shachi blinks “She’s having fun. Someone mark the date.”

“I’m telling her you said that” Ikkaku warns, grinning.

Law glances at you “You good?”

You grin “Mmhmm. Sake’s nice.”

He hums but watches you for a beat longer.

Across the fire, Luffy stands on a barrel “This party needs more energy!”

Sanji spins around at your laugh “Y/N-chwaaaan! You look radiant in firelight! Please, dance with me!”

You shake your head and gesture at Law “Taken.”

That single word makes Penguin choke on his drink.

Kid raises an eyebrow “Taken, huh?”

You smirk and lean into Law’s space, voice teasing, “Don’t worry, Captain. I’ll make it obvious.”

Law narrows his eyes “What does that mean?”

You grab his hat, pluck it off his head, and drop it on your own. It’s too big and slides over your eyes.

Shachi lets out a shriek-laugh “Oh my god, she’s wearing his hat!”

“Y/N, give it back.” Law says flatly, reaching for it.

You tilt your head “No.”

“Give it—”

“Say please.”

He stares at you “You’re drunk.”

“Didn’t say no” you sing.

Zoro makes a low sound that might be a laugh. Sanji, meanwhile, is clenching his wine bottle like it personally betrayed him “She’s flirting with him? With that guy?”

Nami snorts “They’re sitting in each other’s space, Sanji. She’s on him.”

“Tragedy!” Sanji whispers.

You grab Law’s face with both hands “Hey.”

“What.” he says stiffly.

“You know I like you, right?”

The fire quiets. Everyone freezes. Even Luffy stops mid-meat-bite.

Law tenses “What are you doing?”

“Reminding you. In case you forgot.”

Shachi and Penguin look away. Bepo buries his face in his paws. Ikkaku groans “Oh no, it’s happening.”

You poke Law’s cheek “I like your murder face.”

Kid laughs out loud “Murder face?!”

“Shut up” Law growls, glaring across the flames.

You curl up next to him, still wearing his hat “So handsome.”

“Y/N,” he mutters, voice low “Stop.”

You tilt your head “Why? You’re mine, right?”

“…Yes.”

Usopp drops his cup.

“Excuse me?!” Sanji shouts.

“Did we just get a whole relationship reveal during party time?” Nami blinks.

Robin smiles gently “I was wondering how long they’d keep it quiet.”

Kid looks between you and Law “You? With him? Damn.”

“Respect.” Heat adds, raising his drink.

You raise yours too, still leaning into Law “Cheers.”

Law looks like he wants the ground to swallow him.

You wiggle your fingers in Law’s hair, still wearing his oversized hat.

“You know,” you say, voice soft but playful, “you’re kind of impossible to ignore when you blush like that.”

Law tries to pull his face away, but you catch his chin gently “Don’t be shy.”

He groans, but you can tell he’s smiling behind the cup he’s raising to hide his face.

Sanji is practically vibrating with jealousy a few feet away “Oi! Don’t hog the captain! She’s mine too, damn it!”

You laugh “Sanji, you’re sweet, but Law’s got me.”

Law’s eyes flash toward Sanji “Careful.”

You glance back at Law, eyes sparkling “You know you’re the hottest boyfriend I could ask for.”

Law freezes. Then, deadpan but with a tiny smile, he says, “I’m your husband.”

The camp goes silent.

For a split second, your brain glitches—wait, husband?—and then you explode, louder than anyone expected, “OMG YAYYY! I FORGOT YOU MARRIED ME! BEST NEWS EVER!”

You throw your hands up in the air, practically bouncing in your seat like you just won the lottery. Your smile stretches impossibly wide, and your eyes sparkle with giddy excitement.

“Law! We’re married! Can you believe it?!” you gush, nearly knocking over your sake cup “I totally forgot you married me! I’m so lucky! This is the best news ever!”

Law’s eyes widen as he watches you go full-on happy dance mode, his usual calm cracking. He reaches out quickly, steadying you by the shoulders.

“Hey, hey, sit down.” he says with a low chuckle, his voice gentle but firm.

You wobble slightly but don’t stop grinning “Can’t! I’m too excited!”

He sighs, shaking his head fondly, trying again to settle you “You’re going to fall.”

You catch his hands, laughing “Maybe, but it’s worth it!”

Law’s cheeks darken just a bit, but he can’t help the soft smile tugging at his lips “You’re ridiculous.”

You lean closer, eyes bright and teasing “Ridiculous? I prefer when you call me adorable.”

A few of your crew are watching, amused. Penguin smirks “She really lights up when she talks about you.”

“Yeah, I’ve never seen her this happy” Shachi adds.

Law’s hand stays steady on your shoulder, and after a moment, you finally settle back down, still glowing.

“Don’t scare me like that” he mutters quietly.

You squeeze his hand “Never. You’re stuck with me... husband.”

He groans dramatically but the warmth in his eyes says otherwise “I’m already regretting marrying you.”

You laugh “Good.”

Luffy’s mouth is wide open, still holding half a meat leg “Wait… married?!”

Nami drops her drink “You two are married?!”

Kid bursts out laughing “Well, no wonder you’re so attached, freaky doctor!”

Sanji’s jaw drops, completely stunned “Husband?!” He looks like he might faint.

Bepo squeaks and hides behind a tree.

You bounce happily “Yep! Secret’s out! We’re married, but only the crew knew.”

Law sighs, adjusting his hat back onto his head “I wanted to keep it quiet.”

“Too late now! You said that yourself!” You grin.

Robin chuckles “Well, congratulations. I always thought you two were close.

Zoro shrugs, grumbling, “Figures.”

You lean into Law, wrapping your arm around his waist “Guess you can’t escape me.”

Law looks resigned but happy “Good.”

Sanji crosses his arms, muttering, “I need a drink…”

You giggle and whisper to Law, “Worth it.”

Law just shakes his head with a small smile.

The campfire flickers as everyone recovers from the big reveal. You lean against Law, still smiling but your eyes hold something deeper, a shadow behind the joy.

Law notices. His gaze sharpens “You’re quiet now.”

You take a shaky breath “I… I'm drinking to forget, but it's not working.”

His eyebrows knit “Forget what?”

You glance away, voice low “How you almost died in the fight. I saw you, Law. It scared me.”

For a long moment, no one speaks. The warmth from the fire feels heavier.

Law’s usual hard edge softens, and he reaches out slowly to pat his hat on your head.

“Hey” he says quietly, voice gentle.

Law reaches out and pats his hat gently on your head. His voice is low, almost careful.

“You’re important to me.”

You look up at him, surprised but steady “Same here.”

His hand lingers a moment on your shoulder before he pulls back slightly, the usual sharpness softened.

He almost forgets you’re in public, his hand lingering on your shoulder like he wants to pull you close. The tough captain’s guard drops for just a second.

Kid smirks “Whoa, Law getting soft.”

Penguin frowns, eyeing your sake cup “You’ve had enough.”

You reach for it again.

His hand shoots out, stopping you “No more.”

Shachi nods “We need you clear, not drunk.”

You pout “But I’m having fun!”

Bepo hops closer, worried “Captain, she’s too loud already.”

Law stands, arms crossed, watching you “They’re right. No more drinking.”

You frown but lower the cup “Only because you said so.”

Law’s lips twitch into a rare smile “Good.”

Your crew surrounds you protectively.

Ikkaku teases, “Lucky he’s soft with you.”

You lean on Law, feeling safe “I am.”

Sanji mutters, “Unbelievable...”

Law’s hand slides around your waist, pulling you close “Stop worrying now. Stay with me.”

You sigh happily “Always.”

── .✦ Shanks:

The sun is high. The air smells like salt and grilled fish.

The Red Force is docked near a lively island. There's music, laughter, and drunk pirates everywhere. Shanks is somewhere near the tavern, talking too loudly, laughing like nothing in the world is wrong.

You sip your drink under a shaded canopy near the docks, far from him but close enough to hear his stupid laugh.

You haven’t spoken in four days. Not since the fight.

"You're impossible" you’d said.

"You're too stubborn" he'd answered.

Then silence.

Now? You're pretending he doesn't exist. He's pretending the same. Except that you know he sees you. Just like you see him. Always.

“Why are you even mad?” Lucky Roux had asked.

You didn’t answer. You didn’t even know anymore.

“Wanna talk about it?” Yasopp tried.

You glared at him until he walked away.

Suddenly, a shadow falls over your table. You glance up.

It’s a man. Not part of the crew.

Tall. Dark skin. A silver earring. Broad shoulders and a smirk you don’t trust.

“You look lonely” he says, leaning close.

You raise a brow “I’m not.”

“No one should drink alone on a day like this.”

You say nothing. But you don’t tell him to go away either.

From across the street, you feel Shanks before you see him. He’s leaning against a wall, one foot crossed over the other, grinning lazily.

He’s watching.

Of course he is.

The stranger sits down beside you “Name’s Davor” he says, offering a hand.

You shake it, quick “Mm.”

“What’s a beautiful woman like you doing away from the party?”

You smile, small. Still not interested. Still mad.

But then your eyes meet his again... Shanks.

He tips his head slightly, smug as ever. His eyes are saying, Go ahead. Play. You’re still mine.

Your blood heats up.

Fine.

You turn to the stranger, eyes a little softer “You look strong” you say, laying a hand lightly on his arm.

He grins, surprised “I train a lot.”

You let your fingers trace the curve of his bicep “I can tell.”

From the corner of your eye, Shanks pushes off the wall.

Still smiling.

Still calm.

But his jaw is tight now. You know that look. He’s coming.

Davor leans closer “Careful. You keep looking at me like that, and I’ll think I have a chance.”

“Yeah, but careful...” you say, smirking “I bite.”

“I like that.”

You let out a fake little laugh, sweet and mean at the same time.

Shanks steps behind the man without a sound “Hey,” he says, cheerful “Enjoying the view?”

Davor looks up “R...Red-Haired Shanks?”

“Red-Haired Shanks, yes.” He nods at you “That seat’s taken.”

Davor blinks “She didn’t say she was—”

“She didn’t have to” Shanks cuts in, voice low now.

You lean back, sipping your drink, acting bored.

But your heart is racing.

Davor glances between you both “I didn’t mean any disrespec—”

Shanks claps a heavy hand on his shoulder, all teeth “Course not. Just be careful. Some things look unclaimed when they’re not.”

Davor stands quickly “Got it. Sorry, ma’am.”

He walks away fast.

Silence.

You look at Shanks.

He looks back, eyes hot and shining.

Neither of you says anything.

Then, he leans down, his lips near your ear.

"That was cute," he murmurs "Trying to make me jealous."

You roll your eyes “Didn’t try. Just succeeded, or you wouldn't even be here.”

He chuckles “You done being mad?”

You shrug “Maybe.”

He reaches for your drink, takes a sip without asking “Good. 'Cause I’ve missed you.”

You don’t reply.

But you don’t stop him when he sits beside you either.

Not this time.

Shanks stretches his legs out under the table like he owns the world, like he didn’t just interrupt a conversation you were clearly enjoying.

He takes another sip of your drink. Loudly.

You don't look at him.

He waits a second. Two.

Then “So... was that your type?” he asks, too casual “The whole broody and tall thing?”

You blink at the horizon, bored. Still not speaking.

Shanks grins. He thinks this is funny "Should I cut my hair and start lifting barrels just to compete?"

Still nothing.

"Hello?" he singsongs, nudging your knee with his "Cat got your tongue? Or did Davor take that too?"

You sigh. Long. Loud. Then, you stand.

His smile falters just a second.

"Where you goin’, sweetheart?"

You don’t answer.

You walk.

Back toward the bar. Back to the party.

Back to Davor, who’s drinking something bitter and looking around like he wants to vanish into the floor.

You sit next to him again.

He jumps “Uh—didn’t expect to see you again.”

You smile sweetly “Why? Did my Captain scare you?”

“...A little.” He laughs nervously.

You lean in anyway, eyes half-lidded, voice soft “Don’t worry. He’s not gonna do anything. I won't let him.”

Across the square, Shanks is still sitting at the table. Watching.

You meet his eyes.

He raises his cup in a little mock-toast. That damn smirk is back, the one that says, Go ahead. You’ll come crawling back anyway.

So you turn back to Davor.

“I didn’t get to finish admiring these muscles earlier” you say, touching his arm again. Slower this time.

Davor blushes, but tries to play it cool “You really wanna keep poking the dragon?”

You grin “Why not? It’s not like he’s breathing fire yet.”

Behind you, you hear a whistle.

It’s Shanks.

You don’t turn around.

You just smile wider.

Let him feel the burn this time.

Davor laughs awkwardly when you run a finger down his arm “You’re bold...” he says.

You smirk “You’re still here.”

He shrugs “Only because he hasn’t killed me yet.”

You glance sideways. Shanks is still at the same table, drink untouched, elbow on the wood, chin resting on his hand and eyes fixed on you.

His smile is now gone.

He stands.

The chair screeches back. He walks slow, boots steady on the wood. No smirk now.

You brace, but don’t look away.

Davor sees him coming and tenses “Alright, maybe I should leave now—”

“No,” Shanks says, voice sharp “I’ll talk.”

You tilt your head “Oh? Now you want to talk?”

“I’ve always wanted to talk.” His eyes burn into yours “But you were too busy flirting with that guy’s forearms.”

You lift your chin “I wasn’t flirting. I was proving a point.”

“To who?!”

“To you!”

He runs a hand through his red hair, frustrated “Y/N, what do you want from me right now?”

“I love making you jealous” you say, arms folded, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

He steps closer “I’m not jealous” he says, jaw tight. Then softer, “Just… stop.”

His voice lowers even more “You were right. About the fight. I was stubborn. I didn’t listen. I acted like a damn idiot.”

You blink.

You weren’t expecting that.

“I…” You shift your weight “I don’t even remember why we fought.”

He stares at you “Are you serious?”

You nod “No clue.”

For a moment, the two of you just… stand there. Then his lips twitch. A small, surprised smile. It grows. That warm Shanks smile. Real.

You smile too.

“Wanna start over?” you ask, voice lighter now.

He nods, eyes soft “Yeah. I’d like that.”

You hold out your hand “Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N. I think I have a crush on you.”

He laughs, taking your hand, pulling you in close.

“Babe,” he murmurs, brushing your hair back, “I’m your husband.”

You grin, leaning into his chest “God, I love when you talk domestic to me.”

He kisses your forehead.

“Let’s go finish this somewhere more private.” he whispers.

“Lead the way, Captain” you say, arms wrapping around him.

Davor clears his throat in the distance “So uh… I’m just gonna go—”

“Good call” Shanks says without looking at him.

"Oh Devor!" you call making him turn in surprise "For real... nice arms."

You smirk, still tucked against Shanks’ side, while Davor nods awkwardly and shoots a terrified glance his way.

Shanks turns to you and flicks your forehead. You pout, rubbing the spot like it actually hurt, acting confused about why he did it.

He smiles at you before leaving a kiss on the same spot on your forehead "Idiot, I love you. Now if you're done here..."

And just like that the storm ends.

── .✦ Ace:

The sun is high when the ship docks near a strange little island. Green trees, bright flowers, and weird fruit hanging from every branch. It almost looks like a dream.

You lean on the railing, watching as Ace stretches his arms beside you.

“Another island, another chance to explore” he says with that wide grin of his.

You poke his side “Another chance for you to pull dumb pranks?”

He laughs “No promises.”

He always pranks you. Hiding your shoes. Filling your drink with chili powder. That time he pretended to fall overboard just to hear you scream his name.

You still haven’t gotten him back.

Not yet.

As the crew unloads, you stay close to Ace. You already know the plan.

Marco leans in and whispers in your ear, “You sure you wanna do this?”

You nod “He deserves it.”

Thatch tosses a weird purple fruit into your hands “This will do the trick. Looks freaky, but it’s just sweet inside. Take a bite, pretend you lose your memory. He’ll freak.”

Ace is walking ahead, clueless. You smirk. Time for revenge.

The moment comes during lunch.

Everyone is sitting under a big tree. The sun is warm. Laughter fills the air.

You sit beside Ace and hold up the fruit “Hey, look what I found.”

Ace raises an eyebrow “That looks… sketchy.”

You shrug “You afraid of a fruit now?”

He scoffs “No. I just don’t want you turning into a duck or something.”

You grin and take a bite.

Everyone goes quiet.

You chew slowly, then suddenly drop the fruit and grab your head “Ow… what… what’s happening…?”

Ace sits up fast “Babe?”

You look around, eyes wide “Who are all of you?!”

He freezes “Wait, what?”

“I... I don’t remember anything! Why am I here?! Who are you?!” you shout, pointing at Ace.

"Yeah sure... nice prank, now you can stop alreaady." he says rolling his eyes at you.

You try your best to stay serious, confused and scared... and it actually works because one look over at you and Ace scrambles to his knees “It’s me! Ace! We’re pirates! You love me, remember?!”

You stare at him like he’s a stranger “Pirates?! I don’t even like the ocean!”

You hear muffled laughs behind you, Thatch’s hand over his mouth, Marco shaking with silent laughter, Izou biting his lip so hard it might bleed.

Ace grabs your shoulders “You’re joking. Right? Right?!”

You blink at him, dead serious “Please don’t hurt me! Someone help!”

He turns pale “What?! Hurt you?! I would never! I—guys, help! What do I do?! Should we call a doctor?! Is there a doctor fruit?! I don't know!!”

You sniff, faking a tear “I don’t even know your name!”

He holds your face gently, panic all over him “It’s Ace! Portgas D. Ace! We’ve been together for years! You sleep on my chest every night, you steal my food, you… love me.”

You’re so close on giving up already, you hate seeing him like this. But then you look over at the crew and they start silently making gestures to make you continue it.

And you do.

You’re back on the ship.

Ace insisted.

“If she sees our room,” he told the crew, “she’ll remember everything. Right?”

Marco just raised a brow “Maybe.”

Thatch was trying not to burst into laughter again “Yeah, maybe.”

So now you’re walking beside Ace, pretending to be confused but curious.

You glance around the deck, eyes wide “This is… a nice boat.”

He corrects you instantly “Ship.”

“Right. Sorry, bro.”

Ace flinches “Bro?”

You smile sweetly “Yeah. You’re being really nice to me, bro. I appreciate it.”

He narrows his eyes “You called me ‘lovebug’ yesterday.”

You shrug “Guess I was weird before the memory loss.”

He mutters something under his breath.

When you reach your shared room, he pushes the door open with hopeful eyes.

Inside, it’s warm and messy. Blankets kicked half off the bed. His shirt on the floor. Your hairbrush sitting on the dresser.

He points at the pictures stuck to the wall “See? That’s us. Kissing.”

You tilt your head “Wow. Looks like I liked you a lot, bro.”

He looks physically wounded “Please stop calling me that.”

You walk over to the bed and flop down “It’s comfy in here.”

Ace stands there, running a hand through his hair “You really don’t remember any of this?”

You shake your head with wide, fake-innocent eyes “Nope. But you seem chill. Kinda cute, too.”

He perks up “Cute?!”

“Like… for a brother.”

He groans “I’m not your brother!”

You stare at him, unblinking “Sorry. Bro.”

Ace falls to his knees beside the bed and grabs your hands “Okay, no. That’s it. This has gone too far. Bro here. Bro there. Bro??? I’m your husband!”

Your eyes go wide “What?!”

“Yeah?” he shouts “We sleep together, we travel together, we fight together, we’re in love! You kiss me every morning! You steal the blankets! You chew too loud but I still love you! And don’t make me say what we do closed door now!”

The rest of the crew looks annoyed by this last sentence.

“It’s not like you’re quite “closed door” anyway…” Marco says as if he’s scolding you both.

But Ace doesn’t even seem to care. He just stares at you with the sorriest expression you ever seen on him.

You sit up fast, eyes softening at Ace. The prank suddenly doesn’t feel as funny anymore.

“…Ace.”

“I don’t care if you don’t remember me,” he says, voice quiet now “I’ll make you fall for me again. I’ll tell you everything, every story, every stupid moment. I’ll wait as long as it takes.”

Your chest tightens.

You bite your lip, then finally blurt out, “Ace… I’m sorry. It was a prank.”

He blinks “What?”

“I didn’t think you’d fall for it that hard! I thought you were just playing along until a minute ago!” you say, grabbing his hands “It was Thatch’s idea. I just wanted to get you back! I didn’t mean to… Ace, I’m so sorry.”

He stares at you in silence.

Then slowly leans back.

Then throws his hands in the air and screams into the room.

“WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT TO ME?!”

You’re hugging him, trying not to laugh and cry at the same time.

Then you hear a snort.

Then a muffled cackle.

Thatch is holding his stomach, tears running down his face “OH MY GOD. ‘BRO?!’ BRO?! I’M YOUR HUSBAND?!’ I’m gonna DIE.”

Marco leans against the wall, arms crossed, shaking his head with a small smile “I warned you not to prank someone more dramatic than you.”

Izou is fanning himself “I almost broke character when she said he was ‘kinda cute’... That was brutal.”

Ace whirls on them “You were all in on this uh?”

Thatch throws both hands in the air “Obviously!”

“You could’ve given me a heart attack!” Ace says.

Marco smirks “I was watching to make sure you didn’t set the ship on fire with your emotions.”

Izou snickers “That speech, though. The blankets. The chewing. I was this close to crying.”

You nudge Ace “Aw. They all thought it was sweet.”

Ace glares at you, then at the others “You’re all monsters.”

Thatch shrugs “She warned you. Payback, remember?”

Marco points at you “Honestly, the acting was solid.”

“Thank you,” you say, bowing slightly “I trained for this moment my entire relationship.”

Ace groans and hides his face in your shoulder “I hate all of you.”

You stroke his hair with a grin “Still love me, though.”

He mumbles something like “unfortunately” again.

Thatch high-fives you as he walks out “Legendary. Absolutely legendary. That man almost proposed for a second time out of panic.”

Izou whispers, “I bet if we kept it going for ten more minutes, he’d have built you a wedding altar and remake the whole wedding vows.”

Ace grabs a pillow and throws it at him.

The crew finally clears out after what feels like hours of teasing, laughing, and Ace sulking like a kicked puppy.

You’re lying on the bed now, still in your shared room, staring up at the ceiling.

Ace is standing by the window, arms crossed, his back to you.

You sit up slowly “Okay, how bad is it?”

He turns around, eyebrows furrowed “What?”

“You’re planning something, aren’t you?” you say “You’ve gone quiet. That’s when it’s most dangerous.”

He doesn’t answer right away. Just walks over and sits down next to you.

You raise an eyebrow “So? What’s the plan? Fake poison in my tea? Switching out my shampoo with mayonnaise?”

He lets out a breath, like he’s been holding it.

Then, instead of answering, he leans in and gently presses his lips to your forehead.

You blink “…What was that for?”

Ace shrugs “Just felt like it.”

He pulls you close, your head resting against his warm chest, heartbeat steady beneath your ear.

“I really thought I lost you,” he says softly “Even if it was just for a few minutes… it felt real.”

You swallow, guilt creeping back in “I didn’t know it’d hit you that hard.”

“I didn’t know it would, either,” he whispers “But hearing you say you didn’t remember me… it scared me. More than I expected.”

You look up at him, surprised to find his expression completely open. No smirk, no teasing. Just soft eyes and a gentle smile.

“I thought you’d be busy drawing diagrams for your next prank” you murmur.

“Meh,” he says, brushing a hand through your hair “Not tonight.”

You chuckle “Wow. Ace skipping revenge? That’s suspicious.”

He laughs too, but it’s quiet “I’m serious. I just wanna hold you right now.”

He pulls the blanket over both of you, his arms wrapped around your waist, his nose brushing your hair.

You press a small kiss to his collarbone “You’re kinda sweet when you’re not threatening chaos.”

“Don’t get used to it,” he says, smiling “I’m still gonna get you back one day.”

“Sure, sure. But for now?”

“For now,” he says, kissing your temple again, “I just wanna be with my award-winning actress of the Grand Line… Ladies and gentlemen, my wife Y/N.”

You laugh into his chest “I’m the luckiest wife in the world.”

His fingers trace lazy circles on your back “And I’m the happiest ‘bro’ alive.”

You groan and smack his chest lightly “Don’t ruin the moment.”

He kisses your cheek “Okay, okay. No more ‘bro’.”

Just soft smiles. Quiet breathing. Warm skin. No pranks.