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stuck-writing-sickos · 5 months ago

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In Poor Taste [P3]

[Series Link]

(Yandere × F! Reader)

[Warning: explicit language, uncomfortable interaction, pushiness]

[A/N: ok, the pace has been slow, but it's gonna pick up in the next chapter 🙏🙏🙏thank u guys for supporting my story so far. Lmk how we feel about Lukas and Yuki ❤️❤️❤️]

You were never crazy about spoiled rich men. They were nothing but troubles.

Yuki Sakamoto didn't like the new guy. He would never say that, but he would think it. From across the teacher's lounge he would see the newcomer sitting with his head tilted back, his feet gliding on the floor as he played with the office chair. The carefree manner with which this American carried himself was a sore thorn he couldn't avoid seeing, given that Yuki's tall frame forced his head to peak past the cubicle walls, alligning his vision perfectly with the sight.

Yuki supposed this guy should not be his problem. After all, the foreign department had never been not loud and unkempt, save for the few dilligent teachers who kept to themselves, fading in and out silently like shadows. He managed the Science subsection, and from what he heard, this freckled eyesore would fall into Literature. Into your hand.

So, not his problem.

Still, he couldn't help but feel the irksomeness. Yuki blamed the summer heat. The window directly behind him was catching bright sunlight, and the flimsy blinds could not filter out enough heat. The suffocating AC air wasn't of much help, what with roughly 30 other teachers recycling their breaths between 4 walls. The cicada's maddening screams was adding to Yuki's mood - his blaring headphone could not mask them. His fingers danced across his sleek keyboard, desperate to punch in the last exam's score to the excel sheets. He felt his heavy eyelids drooping and his tense shoulders slouching. Yet, across from him, the newbie was scrolling on his phone, gliding on the chair's wheel as if he was a bored guest.

Yuki wondered if you even assigned this jackass anything, or if you had simply taken on the workload yourself. You had always been like that: quiet and accepting. Surrendering. You let your department get away with too much. At that thought, he couldn't help but chew on his lip a little. A poor boss, that was what you were. You didn't know how to distribute workload, leaving your guys dependent and spoiled. Yuki much preferred his team: quick, straight to the point, and no nonsense.

He felt bad for you. It couldn't be helped, though: you had the expertise that compelled his respect, but your reluctant attitude was wearing you down. Your team sure knew how to take advantage of that.

Lost in his thought and the repetitive manual task, Yuki let himself flinch a little at the bell. He glanced at his americano now so dilluted that the coffee had sunken to the bottom, leaving melted icecubes and murky cold water to float atop. The sweat building around the plastic cup left a puddle on his desk. Yuki wiped it off, his face souring. He didn't even finish his coffee before lunchtime.

Maybe he was in a bad mood because he was hungry and insufficiently caffeinated.

The door slid open. Here you were, walking in silently. You never made loud sounds. Even when you spoke, your voice was soft and quiet. Yuki could never really make out what you were saying if he hadn't paid close attention.

"Mr. Sakamoto?"

That would be him.

Your meek voice barely reached him from over there. Yuki saw you setting your books down in your cubicle. His head perched up as he smiled at you. He had a soft spot for you, despite his opinions on your management skills. In truth, he was worried, and when he couldn't voice his concern for you to the degree he felt, his worries fermented into frustration. Seeing that new slack-off playing on his phone right beside your cubicle could not have helped.

"Yes, I'm ready", he smiled and stood up, knocking on his chair gently. It slid backward a touch too far, and he awkwardly fumbled as he set it back into its place.

By chance, he had become your lunch buddies for the last 2 years. The first year, he didn't care to get to know you all that much. By the second year, Yuki's walls had gone down after your serious attitude proved to be consistent, and it was completely dismantled ever since he discovered your music taste and his was a perfect fit. He liked to talk to you: you were gentle and kind, not overly affectionate or friendly, something he didn't expect from the foreign dept. Plus, you tried to accompany him during lunch as often as possible. "Why", he did ask you one time, and you simply responded with "well, it's no fun eating alone". But you never specified who was "alone", and he didn't feel like pushing it.

As he made his way toward you, Yuki saw the new guy stood up with an expectant look. "Well, where are we going?" - he asked, his head turned toward you. Yuki's nose scrunched at that, but it quickly relaxed so as for you not to notice. Was that something you had planned?

You seemed dumbfounded, too. Your wide eyes darted between both men, lingering on Yuki to scan his reaction.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I don't think I ever introduced Mr.Lukas to you, Mr. Sakamoto", you laughed nervously, your hand gesturing to direct Lukas' attention to him, "Mr. Lukas here is going to be a new member of my team. He will also be working on the summer program with us."

Upon closer look, Yuki found less reasons to like Lukas. This was clearly a fresh grad who only came to Tokyo for the experience. He could see the lack of care in his boyish face - he was not taking much seriously.

Yuki would not say that. But he would think it.

"Pleased to meet you", he said, shaking the outstretched hand that Lukas silently offered. He could feel the weight of the man's stare.

The feeling was mutual, then.

The awkward silence was heavy. Yuki shifted. He was about to just leave you to it on the off-chance that he was interrupting when you suddenly spoke: "I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Lukas. I was hoping to discuss some confidential work details with Mr. Sakamoto. Can we have lunch together another time?"

"Oh?" Lukas arched his brows at you, incredulity left bare on his face. Yuki felt himself internally scowling when his empty green eyes turn to his direction, as if to ask for confirmation.

How rude. How very, very rude.

"Apologies, Mr. Lukas", he came to your aids, "there were some issues with her contract regarding the summer program. I would love for you to join us for lunch any other day."

"Does tomorrow work?"

Yuki was stunned. He was used to pushiness from new employees who were clueless about Japanese social cues, but never to this extent. From the 2 years he had spent in Australia, Yuki had gathered that this conversation was an evident rejection. He wondered if this kid was dumb or purposefully grating.

Before he could open his mouth, you interrupted between nervous laughter: "Of course, Mr. Lukas. See you tomorrow!"

"Okay. Bye you guys. Good to meet you Sakayono!"

Yuki was wide-eyed. He saw Lukas' smug eyes challenging him.

"Very well then", he said, bewildered. You followed him, your eyes somewhere as big as his own.

Only until the teacher's cafeteria did Yuki peeped about Lukas.

"How's the new kid?"

Your expression dropped as you settled in to your seat, your neat lunchboxes unwrapped from the handkerchief.

"Well, he's not a kid. He's only 4 years younger than you."

Yuki's mood was getting to him, and he let it slip- "as far as attitudes go, that's a kid to me."

You didn't react. Perhaps you shared his opinion. Lukas opened his own packed meal, lightheaded now. His eyes were still readjusting to natural light after staring at a screen for too long.

"I agree, he's quite young. But I'm hoping he would be a good addition to the team. He did sign a 2-year contract."

Yuki found your feigned optimism both sad and frustrating. Sad because you were trying so hard to be professional when that eyesore wasn't, and frustrating because he was personally disrespected just moments ago.

"Are you for real?"

You painfully laughed.

"I know... I know... but what else can I do beside my best, right? Plus, he is actually smart. All the task I handed him was done like", you snapped your fingers, "that."

"Well, that's ... good. I guess that's why he was sitting like that all morning."

"Yeah, but hey, he got his job done. He is pretty new. I'm sure he will learn about the culture soon enough."

Your eyes scanned his face. It seemed he was too tired to hide his feelings.

"Sakamoto, please don't worry. I will be fine. There are better things to look forward to, right? Like your show tonight!"

Yuki bashfully looked down at his half-eaten meal, his ears going red. He had been performing underground since ever, but hearing it from other people's mouth never failed to render him an embarrassed mess. Likely it was the switch-up: he still found it hard to balance between his daytime self as a serious teacher and the "him" who played electrice guitar to drunken crowds under blinding stage lights. You knew his secret - you, someone from work, someone that happened to stumble upon the flyer his band had posted online last December wherein his face was unfortunately unmasked. Before they took it down, you had managed to take a screenshot and rushed to him. "You?" -your dreadful message read above the attached picture. Yuki still shuddered remembering that moment: his blood was cold as ice.

Sometimes, that's what happens when your music tastes match perfectly.

"It's... nothing special."

"Well, I'll be there this time, for sure."

Before Yuki could thank you for the support, he was once again startled.

"Be where?"

Too engrossed in the conversation, he was caught by complete surprise when Lukas towered over the table. In sync, you and Yuki turned, neck craning to meet eyes with the young trainee.

Lukas stared you down, disregarding completely the other end of the conversation. Once again invisible, Yuki uncomfortably readjusted his glasses.

"Oh, um...We were just talking about-

Lukas leaned closer, his frame closing in on you. Your eyes met Yuki's in a moment of panic before going back to the man who looked as if he was in an interrogation. Yuki now could notice the quality of the obnoxious new guy's clothes - nicely ironed blue button-up with seamless stitching, and a long pair of slacks with a glistening leather belt. Must be alligator skin, Yuki thought to himself, barely hiding disdain toward the wastefulness.

"I'm sorry", Lukas spoke, his voice slow and deeper than usual, "I couldn't quite hear you. You have a very soft voice."

"Oh, sorry. I was just talking about-

"It's an underground punk rock show", Yuki interrupted smilingly, "we were just talking about how nice it would be if we could attend one some day."

Lukas turned to him only partly, his body still pointed at you.

"Oh? Is one happening tonight? I'd love to catch one, too."

"I didn't know you were into rock music."

"Well, I'd love to try out new things. I'm in Japan, for starter."

"Unfortunately we both have plans tonight, so even if there were any, we wouldn't be able to make it."

"Both of you? A plan together?" - Lukas now turned to you again.

"Not together...", you patiently responded, your eyes downcasted, "I'm having dinner with a friend, and Mr. Sakamoto here has something else going on."

Now blatantly ignoring Yuki, Lukas chuckled.

"I didn't know you were into punk rock. You didn't tell me that over drinks last Friday."

Yuki knew too well it wasn't out of the ordinary for a senior colleague to fratenize with a junior early into a job, but the attitude on Lukas and the didrespectful way he framed it left a bad aftertaste in his mouth.

He now found the persistent smile on Lukas' face very, very, very shitty.

"It wasn't something worth mentioning", you shook your head.

"Well, then I definitely will catch a show soon!"

Yuki felt like a crazy person watching this chucklefuck flirt. He was close to be embarrassed on his behalf - just juvenile and completely out of bound.

"Mr. Lukas", he cut in, "if you don't mind, we would love to catch up with you any other time. As we said, we were hoping to discuss some confidential materials."

"I thought you guys were talking punk rock?"

"It was just a passing thought."

Lukas looked to you who nodded in agreement.

"Oh, my bad, my bad. I'm still new to all the- you know! Well don't mind me, then."

Yuki waited for the guy to disappear completely behind the cafeteria door for his expression to sour. He could not hide it any longer.

"Good kid", he snarkily commented. You slumped in your seat, your eyes squeezed shut tight.

"Should we just get him the hell out of this school before he actually causes you trouble?" Yuki pressed.

Your face fell at that. You looked down, your fingers tapping on the table softly. Your chest heaved.

"I'm sorry... I overstepped."

"No", you waved your hand, trying to play it off, as if your voice didn't crack, "it's okay. I'm fine. You didn't-

If it was Lukas' plan for lunch to be unbearably awkward, he got what he wanted.

"Hey, don't you worry. Wanna see something that will make you feel better?"

Make him feel better? You were the one that needed that care. Yuki opened his mouth to protest, but you were quicker to flash your phone screen toward him.

The QR code to his show.

"See? I won't backtrack this time, for sure! I felt bad to get sick right before your last show."

Yuki's chest still felt heavy, but the way you reacted just then told him to drop it.

"Don't beat yourself up about that. You couldn't help getting sick."

You sheepishly grinned.

"I know... but I was sad to miss it. Well, this time there is no way I would!"

Yuki laughed.

"Thank you... we're no good, but I'm glad you'll be there."

"I already listened to your album, you know."

"I know."

When lunch was over, Yuki still felt a nagging anxiousness. He couldn't blame the hunger now. Clearly, something else bothered him. He wanted to say it was the lack of caffeine or carbonhydrate in his meal, but he knew that it was neither. It was the creep that cornered you, and likely will so many more times in the next two years.

His suspicion was in some way validated almost immediately. Right as he returned to the teacher lounge, his eyes met Lukas' monitor which displayed a punk rock clothing website. Lukas himself was nowhere in sight and neither were you - it was most likely that you had taken him to observe some lessons.

Upon this discovery, Yuki couldn't help the part of himself that found Lukas pathetic and desperate. So he chuckled. But another part reminded him that despite the ridiculousness, it was best for him to keep an eye out for this clown from now. Even though this person may be off-putting to the point of comedy, there was something strange about him.

Yuki thought it, but he didn't want to say it yet.

#yandere #yandere male #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oc #male yandere #yandere reader insert

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slxsherr · 2 years ago

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So Melodramatic But It Turns Me On

pairing: ethan landry x bimbo!fem!reader

summary: you make sure ethan won't die a virgin.

wc: 1294

warnings: fem!reader, cursing/swearing, unprotected sex (p in v), loss of virginity, briefly mentioned cum eating, oral sex (f!receiving)

“Does that mean I’ll die a virgin?” Ethan asks, stunning the group with his overshare.

The group moves on quickly after that, Mindy continues her lecture but you can’t stop thinking about what Ethan said. You don’t understand how Ethan can still be a virgin, he’s cute, a bit awkward but in a funny way, and smart, girls should be throwing themselves at him. Ethan thinks the same, but that’s something he’d only ever admit to the thousands of other men with the same opinion on the forums he visits online.

You know if you talk about it to your friends they’ll tell you it’s a bad idea. Even before the Ghostface attacks, Mindy didn’t think it’d be a good idea for you to go after Ethan, but now that he’s at the top of her suspect list, you doubt she’s changed her mind. After Anika and Quinn’s murder, you expect they’ll suspect you too since you weren’t with them, and for a moment they do, but quickly change their minds when they remember you genuinely believed all cats were girls and all dogs were boys.

It’s not fair that they ruled you out for being dumb, despite not having an alibi, but still suspect Ethan even though he was at econ. It’s your sympathetic nature that invites him to your apartment for the night, even though Mindy told you not to be alone with him. But your roommate will come home from work before midnight, so you don’t worry about it too much.

“Are you really a virgin, E?” You ask, watching him look over your worksheet, having insisted on helping you with your math assignments.

“Yeah,” he answers nervously, ears turning red and face flushing from embarrassment.

“But you’re so cute!” You say, moving closer to him on your bed, your papers falling off from the movement.

“You think I’m cute?” He asks, staring at you wide-eyed.

“Totally,” you answer, reaching out to play with a curl just behind his ear, arm resting on his shoulder. “You know, I can be your first, if you want.”

“Really?” Ethan asks, already getting hard from your offer.

“Mhm,” you answer with a hum, throwing the assignments in his lap to the side.

You straddle his thighs, sitting in his lap and leaning forward to kiss him. His lips are chapped, but you don’t mind. He whines when you nip at his bottom lip, moaning when he feels your tongue slip into his mouth. Your arms rest on his shoulders, hands gently holding his face as the kiss deepens.

His hands squeeze your hips, attempting to slow your movements as you grind in his lap. You can feel him getting hard beneath you, his own hips moving up to meet yours in search of more friction. When you pull away, he whines, but is quickly silenced when you pull off your tight crop top. He stares at your bare chest in awe, letting you pull off his shirt as his mind catches up to what’s happening.

“Can I touch you?” He asks before you can take off his jeans, his thumbs nervously rubbing over the fat of your hips.

“Sure,” you answer, your wide eyes showing you weren’t expecting the request.

Ethan’s hands travel from your hips up your sides, his warm touch leaving goosebumps in his path. Gently, he cups your breasts, fondling the soft mounds and eliciting quiet sounds from you. His thumbs ghost over your nipples, and they pebble from his barely there touch. The whole time, your hips haven’t stopped moving, now moving faster in his lap. Spurred on by your sounds and growing neediness, one of his hands dipping past the waistband of your short shorts and underwear.

“Is this okay?” Ethan asks, fingers moving through your slick folds.

“Yes,” you moan breathlessly, hips stuttering when he brushes over your clit.

It’s maddening, the way he touches you, amateur but just skilled enough to rile you up. His hand and your panties are soaked, your hole achingly empty, you decide he can skip the rest of the foreplay. It’s supposed to be about him, anyway, you tell yourself, pulling away from him to take your shorts off, and he quickly copies your actions. His dick is pretty, trimmed curls neatly trailing from his lower stomach to the base, thick, long, and you hope you get the chance to taste him, maybe in the morning.

“Fuck,” he groans, feeling your tight walls envelop him as you lower yourself on his cock.

“E, look at me, baby,” you say, a hand in his hair and the other holding his face, encouraging him to open his eyes.

He whimpers when you start moving, shallowly bouncing in his lap, glossy eyes watching you take him. Your stomach twists in pleasure, his tip kissing that spongey spot deep inside you every time your ass meets his thighs, clenching around him when you hear him whine after your grip on his curls tightens. Ethan feels like he’s going to melt into the bed, watching a creamy ring form at the base of his dick as you ride him. You look so hot, tits bouncing as you move, and you feel so good, he’s embarrassed when he tells you he’s going to cum.

“Shh, it’s okay, go ahead and cum,” you reassure him, not stopping your movements as he begins to babble incoherently to announce his release.

His arms wrap around your waist, holding you to his chest as he finishes inside you. The air is warm, only the sounds of your heavy breathing can be heard as he recovers from his orgasm. As his mind clears up, Ethan begins to panic, realizing you didn’t get to cum.

“I’m so sorry, you didn’t–” he begins to say, but you interrupt him.

“It’s okay, this was about you,” you tell him, but he won’t have it.

“Just please, let me?” He asks, moving you to lay you on your back, moving down the bed in between your thighs.

“Okay,” you say, letting him spread your legs to slot himself between them.

He licks a broad stripe through your folds, and if he wasn’t eating you so messily you’d maybe be a little grossed out by him essentially eating his cum out of you. Despite his lack of experience, he’s enthusiastic, and your hand quickly flies to grip his mop of brown curls as you begin to buck your hips against his face. You’d feel bad for how tightly you hold his hair, but the noises he lets out against your pussy tells you he actually enjoys it.

“Ethan!” You squeal his name, feeling his tongue explore your hole, and your thighs nearly closing around his head.

Your legs are shaking on either side of his head, and he thinks you’re getting close. He holds your hips down, keeping you from grinding against his face, allowing him to roughly circle your clit with his thumb. Your hips jerk against his hold, seeking pleasure as the knot in your stomach begins to unwind. So lost in your building orgasm, you don’t realize you’re practically suffocating Ethan between your thighs, not that he minds. He would gladly accept death if it meant he’d die with your thighs wrapped around his head, listening to your muffled cries of pleasure.

“Oh my god! Are you okay?” You ask once you come down from your high, moving away from him to out from between your legs.

“I’m fine! Would it be okay if we did that again?” He asks, and with a quick look at his lap you realize he’d gotten hard again while eating you out.

“Of course,” you answer, a smile stretching across your lips as you push him onto his back.

#ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x reader smut #ethan landry x you #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry x you smut #ethan landry x y/n smut #ethan landry smut #ethan landry fanfiction #ethan landry fanfic #ethan landry fic #ethan landry imagine #ghostface x reader #ghostface smut #scream x reader #scream smut #ethan landry #scream vi #scream 6

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da-birb-writes-sometimes · 1 year ago

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How You Turn My World; Chapter 1

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

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

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

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

Word Count; 4.6 K

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“YOU CAUGHT A FUCKING BAT?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And almost immediately, Ace replied.

| Ginger, derogatory | depends | ya got fiid?

Deuce responded shortly after.

|The Responsible One | How does 6 sound?

| Mama’s Boi | 6 works for me

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

~~~~~~~

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

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

#twst #twst x gn reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x gn reader #twst grim #lilia vanrouge #deuce spade #ace trappola #there will be more x reader stuff in future chapters #soooo #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia vanrouge x gn reader #loosely inspired off of labyrinth and some other fae media; but very loosely #majority of this should be original with some tie ins from the movie #i wrote like 9 K in may for this idea and haven't touched it since; it took me like a week to rewrite this 4.6 K and i deleted some stuff #don't be precious; delete your art (from drawfee)#the length of this may be dictated from how much traction and interaction it gets #gilf enjoyers rejoice #twst labyrinth au #<- kinda but not really; we shall see #to clarrify; there is nothing in the brownies; the brownies are just run of the mill brownies #will be making a masterlist for this series; just so i don't break diasomnia's sooner than the others #there's also going to be a break in fic updates in october; but more on that later #btw everything grim did; my cats have done; the 'bat' was a mouse though and not lilia vanrouge from twisted wonderland #also labyrinth gave me nightmares as a child cuz i was terrified of puppets; and i had the same reaction as adeuce at his pants #first time posting a multi-chapter fic; let's see how this goes

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that-student-that-has-homework · 9 months ago

Text

Matching - Portgas D. Ace

Find more of my work here: Tumblr MasterList

This is a little idea I had for a larger Ace fanfic I'm working on. I might revise this! Please let me know if he's in character or not...I'm starting to have my doubts.

It had been the better part of a week. No, maybe a whole week at this point. While before you’d spend most of your free time around him, now you were constantly “busy.” Heck sometimes he even finds it difficult to find you on the Moby Dick! Was this the end of the honeymoon phase everyone warned him about?

Were you starting to get tired of him?

You kept sneaking around...without him! Before you used to sneak around together! Worse still is…every time he pops up to see you, you always seem like you're hiding something. It's like quickly stashed papers, and tightly clenched fists. It’s the way you spin on your heel, and tense up, when you used to not do that at all.

What was maddening was how when the evenings would hit, or even at random parts of the day, you’d run and crash into him with a huge hug. You’d beam at him bright and genuine just upon seeing him, heck you’d be practically vibrating with joy as you’d squeeze the life out of him. He’d almost turned to fire once.

Maybe you weren’t tired of him?

When you did cuddle with him, your eyes seemed to linger on the tattoo on his arm. He’d even woken up to you tracing it with your finger once before. You’d looked sheepish that he’d caught you admiring it…actually you looked a little…panicked too…

You’d squirmed in his grasp when he asked you about it. Saying things like how it’s pretty, and how it’s a tattoo unique to him, so you were admiring it. You're pretty good at dodging his line of questioning whenever he voices his suspicions about your behavior. You were also incredibly sneaky about distracting him with your affections, and by the time he’s regained his original line of thought, you’d already be gone.

There's something fishy in the air and it's not the sea king he caught the other day.

He only finds out what it is you'd been scheming behind his back when he gets back from a mission. He was so distracted for most of it. He couldn’t figure out why you were so clearly avoiding him sometimes…were you having second thoughts? What was going on? Was this an elaborate prank?

He was still in a daze as he made his way back to the Moby Dick. You used to bring peace, yet right now you’d thrown him into turmoil. He hated the way he was doubting you. He hated not knowing what was wrong.

“Hey look Ace’s back!”

“How’d it go champ?”

“Aaaaaaacee!” It was your voice that pulled him back completely.

He’d barely had a moment to look up than you’d thrown yourself on him with a hug. The force of it all almost send him toppling backwards. His hat had been knocked off his head, and he could feel the press of its medallion on his throat. He's relieved at how genuinely happy you are to see him, yet still an unease twists up his stomach in knots.

You pull away much too quickly, pulling his arms and rotating them, checking for any damage. The way you're checking up on him to make sure he's not hurt and that he's okay floods his entire system with warmth. Yet he can't help the constriction in his chest and the nagging as to what it was that had you sneaking around before he left if you missed him this badly?

He can hear the crew laughing at the obvious display of affection.

“Being bold there little missy,” they taunt you.

You shrink in on yourself a bit, embarrassment catching up to you. However when you take his hand in yours, and whistles and cheers break out, “I was doing it for Ace,” the timidity in the lines of your shoulders and face brings the heat to his own face, “I thought he might like it.”

He squeezes your hand in his. Yet his brain screams at him, then what was all that sneaking around about?

Unsure how to deal with things, he just studies you closely as you ask him about how things went and how the mission was. You're not up to anything really, or at least it doesn't seem like it. You're as attentive and engaged as ever, things are just as they used to be before.

You drag him to the kitchen, knowing he must be hungry as he usually is after a mission. You even sit with him in your little corner of the mess hall while he eats, something you hadn’t done much prior to his departure. He's talking to you about the guy with the interesting abilities that he'd fought with his mouth full, and you're indulging him.

Yet even as he tries to fall into your old pattern, the confusion only festers further. What had been going on with you?

He feels absolutely awful, doubting you with the way you’re listening to him like he's the most interesting guy in the world. To be fair, to you, he really is. He keeps talking and chewing and answering your questions, yet the thing he really wants to talk about is bubbling just below the surface. Somehow all the tension and excitement peaks and he goes head first into his plate of food.

When he finally comes back to, there’s no food on his face, and he’s resting on his arms on the dinner table, his plate off to his side. You’re still next to him, gently brushing your fingers through his hair, patiently de-tangling any clumps you come across. He groans while sitting up and blinking the sleep away.

“You’re up,” you observe aloud, “here let me clear these out of the way for you.”

You get up from beside him, unthinkingly pulling your sleeves up your forearms, and reach for the plates around him. He notices something odd about one of your hands as you walk away with the stack of plates in your hands, but before he can say much you're already on your way to the kitchen counter. He watches you, lethargically shoving food in his mouth as you hand the dishes over to Thatch, who looks at your hands, then looks his way for a moment with an amused grin.

He could actually hear the next thing as the cook raised his voice, “nah leave those dishes to me, go hang out with your loverboy.”

Had the pirate not shoved you away with a plate of food in hand, Ace got the feeling you would have pointedly ignored Thatch’s teasing to do the dishes. You walked back, your brow and lips pursed in a kind of indignation. He couldn’t help the little huff of amusement. You’d gotten much better at handling their teasing over time, but he wouldn’t deny it was cute how it would get to you sometimes.

You took a seat beside him again, sliding the plate the cook had given you towards him. Your…well he could only hope he was still really your beloved, just stared at you in silence as he chewed. For some reason it made you squirm.

That’s it. He’d had enough. He has to figure this out. You’d said it yourself, it’s really important to communicate things! That’s how relationships last!

“You’ve been real weird lately,” was what came out as he grabbed the new plate of food, “you been avoiding me?”

His brow furrowed at the way your gaze immediately fell, taking your expression with it, and how you began to fidget with your fingers - a nervous - wait. Ace’s hand extended to grab your left one, bringing it up to his face.

There on your left wrist, right where your pulse sat, in black ink sat the letters ASCE, arranged horizontally and smaller, but a perfect replica of his own otherwise. Instinctively he rubbed his thumb across it, almost as though he was checking to make sure this wasn’t an illusion and that wasn’t just normal ink from a pen.

You were looking back at him, he could see it in the way your shoulders bunched near your ears, and the wobble of your lips, and how you couldn’t keep eye contact for too long, but kept glancing back at him…you were nervous. He absentmindedly began drawing circles on your wrist, just staring at you.

“I was avoiding you, I guess,” you admitted, “I was hoping to surprise you with that,” your free hand moved to play with the hem of your shirt, as you shrunk even more, “was it presumptuous of me? Should I have asked first?”

“For a second I thought I’d managed to chase you away,” he admitted quietly, looking back down at the mark of permanence you’d etched into your skin, “that you’d gotten sick of me.”

You snatched your hand away before he could think, moving in to embrace him, “get sick, of you? Then I’d be a tasteless heathen or…whatever, unworthy of you- totally - completely - absolutely unworthy of you!”

Your arms tighten around him, “I’m so sorry I put you through that love.”

“All that sneaking around was for this tattoo?” He couldn’t help the involuntary little crack in his voice. “You really did surprise me darlin’.”

He pulls away from you first and his hands find your wrists, and his eyes again fall onto the symbol, the symbol of him, lovingly tattooed into your skin. A mark to let people know just who put the ring on your finger.

He didn’t look up from it, even when you spoke up again, “Ace,” he just traced circles over the mark that sat proudly in bold black letters, “I’m really sorry that I made you feel that way - wait does that sound? It’s not-no wait. It’s my fault!” He glanced up at you for a moment as you struggled to put what you wanted to say into words, working strenuously to apologize sincerely.

His lips wobbled upwards.

He couldn’t help it.

You’d gone out of your way, to tattoo his mark onto your body. He couldn’t help but stare at it as he continued to rub circles with his thumb. Not only that, you were straining yourself so much all because he voiced that damned insecurity of his.

“I didn’t mean to put you through that?” You tried again. “I wanted it to be a surprise, but I didn’t want to hurt you.” You paused, and he felt you move closer. “I’m sorry if what I did hurt you-no-I’m sorry that I did hurt you.”

There was a pricking at the corners of eyes, as he finally took his eyes off your little gift to him to look at you. There was a kind of relief, or maybe it was appreciation? Maybe even a tinge of surprise? He was touched, that was one thing he knew for sure-if the fire that burned in his chest was any indication. He was a sick bastard for appreciating this, wasn’t he? Seeing you so genuinely apologetic - it was alarming really, did he really deserve this apology when he was doubting you? How could he ever hope to compete with this?

“You’ve got nothing to apologize for, doll,” his voice was uncharacteristically quiet as he continued to rub circles into your wrists.

“No I do,” you insisted, “Ace, I’m happy you’re communicating how you felt to me,” you responded quietly, but firmly, “so don’t downplay how it felt when I was the one being sneaky.”

“You didn’t mean any harm though,” his lips pull into a gentle smile as he slowly brings your tattooed pulse up to brush his lips against it before flicking his gaze to meet yours, “you were here prepping this lovely gift for me and I was only thinking of myself.”

A smirk tugs at his lips at the way you have to shake yourself out of whatever spell he’d placed you under, “just because I didn’t mean any harm, doesn’t mean I didn’t do any harm,” you press on, shuddering a bit when he brushes another kiss to your pulse, “if you did the same, I’d probably have felt the same way too, you have nothing to feel bad about.”

“Forgive me for doubting you, cariña?”

He almost laughs at the affronted look you give him, firing back a, “forgive me for hurting you, love?”

“Nothing to forgive,” he’s smiling more now, “I’m glad you were being so sneaky, made this surprise all the better.”

“Don’t downplay your feelings Portgas D. Ace,” he could hear your frown, “your feelings are important to me, you’re important to me.”

“My full name cariña?” He couldn’t help but tease.

“Yes,” you answered immediately and he looked up to see how upset you looked - it was almost annoying - he’d rather not dwell, “I want you to get just how upset you were off your chest.”

That got a chuckle out of him, despite the irritation that was rising.

“I don’t want to think about it too much,” his smile fell for a moment, “I don’t want to ruin this happy moment with stupid emotions in the past.”

“But I don’t want them to fester-”

“Mi amor,” he looked at you, almost pleading, “it’s true I felt like you were ignoring me, but seeing your little surprise makes me the happiest man on the five seas.”

Seems that was enough to quiet you. Though… “six, if you include the All Blue.”

When you chuckled at him, he felt his smile returning. He honestly couldn’t care less about the past. He’d said his piece, you’d talked it out, he didn’t care anymore.

“So, you know I love you right?” The timid way in which you asked was enough to knock the wind out of him.

Yet, he grinned, and brought your marked pulse up to lips again, “I love you too.”

“Oi get a room!” The two of you startled at the sudden shout coming from the other end of the mess hall. “Sure we can barely see you in your little corner, but the lovey-dovey energy in here is off the charts!”

“Shut up Thatch!” Ace fired back. “You’re just mad you can’t gossip to Marco about it!”

“You’re the one blocking the show!”

“Good!”

“It’s real funny though,” there was a pause, “who’d have thought the wild Fire Fist was actually a huge pile of mush!”

With the newfound yelling, people started to file into the mess hall. Which was when he noticed it was mostly empty prior to that. Of course among the people who filed in was the aforementioned first division commander.

“You like your little surprise Ace?” He asked the younger man.

“Wait you knew?”

“Who else would she ask yoi?” The medic gave him a lazy grin before turning to you. “So, did you get to say what you wanted to say yoi?”

Ace studied you as you shook your head looking both disappointed and sheepish.

“What did you want to say?” He couldn’t help but ask.

You huffed, a sheepish smile wobbling your lips, as you moved to his left side, your right hand pushing his upper arm to show more of his tattoo.

"See,” you held up your own tattooed wrist next to his arm, “now we match."

Extra:

Ace later: “I’m gonna marry her.”

Marco (who is next to him): “aren’t you already married?”

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