#second division commander

[xamaxenta]

🎉🎉🎉HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY DARLIGNT SWEETHEART 🎉🎉🎉

I didnt know what to draw for your bday so I drew every single thought I had in one go

Here’s to another year simping in your name ❤️‍🔥

[mallomars]

One piece

This is the awakened form of the Mera Mera no mi.

[faketypefan]

seeing that you all want Ace, I'll give you Ace!

Sad little fiftht division commander

[apiratefellinlovewithastar]

this is your daily reminder that I love him with all my heart

[monocub]

you think dadan would have dressed up as santa and gifted the asl boys coal for christmas and those little assholes would've complained and started throwing it at her

[sabo-has-my-heart]

Hey there! Hope everything's going great

Sooo I had a request:

I had this thought about what if s/o and op men had a little argument on something and they decide to give silent treatment to each other for a while, they still do stuff together like going shopping for stuff with the crew but this little incident happens where a guy flirts with s/o infront of their partner and she (yep female s/o) says she's single XD

Like a headcanon on how they would react to this? It can be a funny one

I'd specifically like sabo, law, zoro and coby for this!

Thank youuuu so muchhhh if you'll do this take care! ^^ ♡

I included Ace in this as well because I love him. Sabo, Law, Zoro, Koby, Ace.

Warnings: arguments, threats, almost violence, heartbreak, hurt/comfort,

Word Count:1720

     Your fights never got this bad, never got out of control like this. Normally, you were able to work it out, or at least take some time to cool down first. But you’d both been in a bad mood, both said things you shouldn’t have, both been rather stupid to be honest. It should have been a minor argument, should have been simple grumbling followed by comforting hugs and cuddles, maybe a nap. Instead, it had ended up with you both storming off in an even worse mood than you’d already been in, it had ended with you both giving each other the silent treatment, and with extremely high tensions whenever you were together. Few, if any, of your friends said anything, not wanting to get caught up in your fight or be on the receiving end of your wrath, but the tension was getting uncomfortable… well, more uncomfortable. A simple shopping trip with the others, that’s all it was. Get some supplies, look around, it wouldn’t be the two of you alone, so it’s not like it would be uncomfortable silence the entire way, you could both talk to someone who wasn’t each other. It had been while you’d been in a clothing shop, looking at various clothes that he approached you. Tall, handsome, with a gorgeous smile.

     “Hey there, beautiful. Noticed you looking at these. If I may be so bold, I think this would look much better on you.” he said, holding out a beautiful dress. Running your fingers over the fabric, you smiled, you did look good in this color, maybe it was worth at least trying on.

     “Tell me how I look?” you asked, taking the dress, the man following you towards the dressing rooms. As soon as you stepped out, the man was taking your hand, kissing the back before helping give you a little spin.

     “You look dazzling. I was wondering, if a beautiful woman like you would perhaps join me for dinner? That is, unless you’re already taken.” he said, giving you another thousand watt smile. You hesitated for a moment. The two of you hadn’t talked in well over a week, or had it been longer? You were both too busy fuming to keep track, still stubbornly refusing to talk to each other.

     “No, I’m single and I’d love to accompany you.” you said with a soft smile.

Sabo

Head immediately whips around to look at you.

Heartbroken and angry.

Single? Was this your way of breaking up with him?

Immediately marches over, tells the guy you’re actually taken and then drags you away.

Pulls you somewhere secluded so you can talk.

Totally pins you to the wall.

Calls you both stubborn and says that the fight was stupid.

He’s angry because of the guy but he’s also super scared of losing you.

Pulls you close and holds you, telling you you’re his and that he won’t let some stupid fight change that.

If you don’t apologize for the fight or want to break up, his heart will 100% shatter.

He’s lost enough, you were the ray of sunshine in his life, he can’t lose you too.

Doesn’t actually say anything though, just walks away.

You can’t tell if he’s angry or sad from the way he leaves.

Won’t talk to anyone unless necessary for days and completely avoids you.

So, so heartbroken, absolutely cries when he’s alone.

Thinks he has to be strong for the Revolutionary Army though, so will put on a smile around others.

If you both apologize.

Refuses to let you go after that, if you let him, he’ll absolutely carry you everywhere, but if you don’t, he won’t let go of your hand. At. All. 

Super possessive all day.

Pulls you into his room to sleep with you. 

I hope you don’t have to get up in the middle of the night, because he won’t let you go.

Seriously, wrapped completely around you, holding you tight, you just are not going anywhere.

Steals or buys all sorts of gifts for you. Anything he thinks you might like. 

Even if you’re both at fault, he’s trying so hard to make up for the fight.

Law

Excuse me, what?

Straight up shambles the guy away, like as far as his room will allow. 

Super duper pissed.

Demands to know why you said you were single.

If you say that you’re breaking up with him, his heart will break. 

Not even kidding, will storm off to the Polar Tang, lock himself in his room and cry. 

If you say someting like ‘he was acting like you weren’t together anymore’, he’ll freeze up

Had he really been that stubborn and stupid?

Shambles you both back to the ship and holds you close.

Tells you that he can’t lose you.

Surprisingly sweet. Is this really your Law? Because he’s being way too affectionate.

Absolutely makes it up to you. Takes you back out shopping, if you so much as look at something with vague interest, he’ll either buy it or steal it for you.

Takes you out to a very nice (secluded) dinner that night. Holds you close all night, like, I hope you don’t mind sleeping in his bed with his arms wrapped around you, because it will happen.

Doesn’t let you out of his sight the entire time you’re docked.

Zoro

Almost slices the entire store (and the guy) into pieces.

You’re WHAT?

So, so, so angry.

Also scared, though he won’t admit it.

Scares the guy away.

Picks you up, throws you over his shoulder, and takes you back to the Sunny.

You can’t tell if he’s more angry or hurt as he looks at you.

Simply states that you’re his.

If you tell him you aren’t and that you’re breaking up with him.

Just storms off.

Goes to his gym and starts working out to try and blow off some steam.

Spends an unusual amount of time in the gym from now on. 

Can’t look at you because it hurts too much. 

Still totally loves you.

He doesn’t even insult Sanji for days.

If you forgive him.

Wraps his arms around you and holds you close.

Just stays like that for a while.

Keeps an arm wrapped around you all day as you go shopping.

In so much debt to Nami now because he borrowed so much money.

Isn’t able to buy you everything you look at, but if you express any sort of desire over it, he’ll buy it.

Keeps you close for weeks. He’s training? Well, I hope you wanted to watch him work out. He’s taking a nap? You’re taking a nap too. 

I hope you don’t mind sleeping in the boy’s dorm because Nami absolutely will not let him sleep in the girl’s dorm.  

Koby

Immediately rushes over to you.

Are you serious? Does this mean you’re breaking up with him? He’s so, so, so, so sorry.

Completely ignoring the guy as he takes your hands in his.

Eyes are so hurt and scared and a little desperate. 

Begs you to forgive him.

If you break up with him.

Absolutely starts tearing up then and there.

Quietly walks away as he starts crying. Returns to his room and starts sobbing. 

Beats himself up for getting into the fight in the first place. 

SO different from his usual self!

Just super quiet and downcast. 

It’s like he reverted back to when he was working for Alvida but without the hope for something better.

His rank and abilities totally suffer because of how heartbroken he is.

Like, everyone is wondering, is this really the same Captain Koby?

Does eventually, sort of bounce back, but is super focused on only work.

If you forgive him.

Clings to you, just wrapps you in a huge hug, apologizing over and over.

Still crying a little but so, so relieved. 

Buys. You. Everything!

Seriously, I hope you plan to look at the ground the entire time, because if you even glance at it, he’s buying it, trying to make things up to you.

Even if he knows it’s both of your faults, he doesn’t care, he feels like he needs to apologize and make it up to you. 

Spoils you rotten for weeks.

A little meek around you for a bit, but does perk up and return to normal after a bit. 

Cuddles with you whenever possible. Like, if he has even a minute to spare, he’s got his arms wrapped around you. 

Ace

Literally lights on fire as he stalks over to the man.

Almost lights the guy on fire.

Not sure who to feel more sorry for. Ace for feeling so scared and heartbroken or the man for being so terrified.

Pulls you away immediately. 

As soon as you're somewhere secluded, he wraps his arms around you and doesn’t let go.

Apologizing over and over.

Please don’t leave him, he’ll do anything, whatever you ask.

If you don’t forgive him. Stands there in stunned silence while you walk away. 

100% crying.

So, so despondent as he walks back to the Moby Dick. 

Locks himself in his cabin, refuses to come out.

Barely eats and Thatch has to deliver it to Ace because Ace won’t come out. 

Nobody hears his sobbing, but it’s a miracle he doesn’t die of dehydration. 

You were the best thing to happen to him.

You think he was depressed over his past before?

1000x worse now.

Absolutely thinks he’s trash for losing you.

Doesn’t necessarily bounce back, but returns to his commander duties again.

If you forgive him.

Holding you even tighter.

Can’t stop himself from crying into your shoulder.

So, so scared he was going to lose you.

Once he manages to gather himself together again, he takes you back to the ship. 

He doesn’t buy you everything but that’s because he just wants to hold you.

You spend the entire week simply cuddling with him. 

Will not let you go. Eating dinner? You’re in his lap. Sleeping? He’s holding you tightly like a teddy bear. Just relaxing? He’s cuddled up with you.

I hope you don’t need to train, because he won’t let you go long enough to do so.

Whitebeard eventually has to order him to return to him commander duties because he’s so busy clinging to you.

[straws-and-sunflowers]

Angst. Not Lawlu, just angst.

[eternitas]

A painful night with rain

Watching the Battle for The Vongola Rain Guardian Ring was a traumatizing experience for one Varia member in particular.

Please ignore the inconsistency in time of day. I didn't think of the time difference between italy and japan, so please ignore that mistake.

"The Captain---- lost...?"

"I don't believe it...." A hush went through the room filled with Varia members, most from the rain division. Since the battles for the Vongola Rings had started there was a live feed of each battle that the present members gladly watched. Some with hope for their officers victory and some with the hope for their demise. Most however saw it as a good and fun time. After all this was supposed to be their sweeping victory over some middleschool kids, how hard would that be?

Now after one loss and two wins with 3 rings in their posession it had been a battle of the swordsmen between the japanese katana kid, a student of the Shigure Soen Ryu, and the Varias second in command and right hand of their boss, Squalo, the sword emperor himself. There had been not a single member that doubted this to be their overwhealming win.

But after what felt like at least an hour, they witnessed the greatest swordsman in all of europe be beaten and defeated with the blunt end of a katana to the back of his head as if it was a god damn parody. It felt like a practical joke that was played on them specifically as spectators from afar. As if right now Lussuria would jump out from behind the couch and laugh about having tricked all of them. But there was no jumping from anyone.

Nobody dared to say a word. Some didn't even dare to breath too loudly. And unfortunately this was not where it all ended. Not only that the officers were talking about who would take out Squalo for good, being a disgrace, having lost against a child, but just then a beast was let into the arena. It was now a deathtrap for their captain. The japanese kid tried to help Squalo get out, lifting him up, determined to help, but-

it all happened in the blink of an eye.

The platform broke and Ava jumped up from his seat, holding his breath, as they all witnessed their captain kick the kid to safer ground and then be attacked by the gigantic shark in the arena. The stone under him broke and all that was left was deep, murky water and the shadow of the shark slowly fading.

It was completely quiet as they stared at the TV that showed nothing but the now still arena.

Squalo.... had been devoured by a shark.

Their captain was ... gone...

Shock hung in the air, nobody truly knowing what to do or say, until a realisation dawned on some of them. Among them was someone who took this particular loss the hardest. Someone who just now witnessed a horrible personal tragedy.

Ava, the younger brother of Squalo, had just seen his brother get killed by a shark. The tension in the air became a different one as the temperature dropped and everyone just waited for Avas next movement. Everyone knew how incredibly skilled he was, but only few were aware of how much Squalos existance tethered Ava to sanity. Without Squalo there was no saying how the young boy would react. They had seen people who just as much as questioned or insulted Squalo, be almost sliced into pieces. They had seen Ava pace around the lobby whenever Squalo was longer out on missions. They had seen how close their relationship was despite them working as superior and subordinate. They all knew what this meant.

Sergey dared to lean towards Ava whose eyes were still glued to the screen. He seemed so lifeless the way he stood there absolutely unmoving, hardly even his breathing to be noticible.

"Ava...?" He carefully called out, as Lorenzo, close by already reached for his weapon, just in case of the worst.

"Squ... was-...."

There was a distant ringing and just a moment later someone stumbled into the room, phone in hand.

"It's Dino Cavallone!"

Sergey jumped up from his seat and ran towards the guy, snatching the phone right out of his hands to once again check who was on the other line.

One moment later he was next to Ava and held the phone towards him.

"Ava, it's the Cavallone boss-"

Without a word he grabbed the receiver and held it to his ear.

"Yes?" he asked in a deep voice, that felt like the calm before a storm.

"Ava, he is alive!! We got Squalo and are getting him into medical care right now!"

"Is that so?"

"Yes! Yes, Ava its me! I made sure my men would get a hold of your brother, so you dont need to-- he's alive, okay?!"

"And you are not lying to me?"

The whole room tensed for a second.

"No! Of course not, Ava! He will be fine, he's alive and we will take care of him, I promise! I won't-"

"Dino." Ava interrupted him, his voice dark and cold.

"I will trust your word. Please take good care of him. Ciao."

"Y-yes of cour-"

But Ava had already ended the call, arm hanging lose to the side, hand still wrapped around the telephone. Nobody dared to speak. Hardly anyone dared to even breath.

"That's... good news though, right? We can-"

"I'd actually like to be aone for a bit." Ava said quietly, barely audible, handing the phone to Sergey next to him and without giving a further look back to the Rain Division member that had talked to him, he left the room, any passing Varia member making way for the young boy with his head sunk low, that it was hard to make out his face.

Riddled with bad feelings Leo jumped from his position to go after Ava, but Sergey held him back.

"I know, Leo, but I don't think we can help him now. If anything we might just make it worse."

The halls were quiet now. Most people were probably still out and about reeling from the fight, they had just seen on the screen. But then again, there was no reason for anyone to be in this specific hall. After all the owners of these quarters were all out and wouldn't return for a good while.

The big windows in the hall were letting the moonlight in. It ws a clear night and the moon almost full. It would have be a serene and calming night, if it hadn't been for this fight. He felt a choking in his throat, his hand tightly grasping around the cold metal key in his hand before he quickened his pace to a fast walk to a certain door, unlocking the heavy wood and swinging the door open to enter.

As soon as he was inside he leaned against the door and felt his weight help it fall quicker into it's lock. Like that he stayed leaned against the door in a completely quiet room. Alone.

Alone.

Alone-

Tears struck his wide eyes, his body starting to tremble as he finally couldn't hold his emotions back anymore. His restricted throat let out a terribly hoarse sob, as the tears left his eyes like heavy raindrops. All strength left his body and he leaned back, head bumping against the wooden door as he slid it down, eventually sitting on the ground, his whole body shaking. His voice became a terirbly high pitched wail, when all of a sudden his throat unclogged and he started to painfully cry and sob. His voice echoed through the room, revirbrating from the walls and all encompasing him in the cold darkness, while he tried unsuccesfully to wipe his eyes that couldn't stop the tears. Everything hurt and unadulterated panic set into his bones. His brother- his only lifeline, his last bastion of sanity almost died in a sword duel. He was so far away right now and there was absolutely nothing he could do.

What was he supposed to do, other than completely shatter into pieces? He was completely helpless. There was nothing that could console him. Even Dinos call only managed to dull his existential panic. Right now Squalo was still not out of the worst. He was alive, but would he be able to be stable and recover? Would Dino be able to save him? Would he ever get his brother back?

Now that he knew that for now Squalo was a least alive, he was back to being that young boy, hiding in his small bedroom, crying into cushions so his uncle wouldn't find and hurt him. He was back to being a child, alone and abandoned by the only person that was truly still his family. 7 or 10 or 16, didn't matter. He was just a child left alone in this world with nothing else to hold onto. It was cold. So incredibly freezing cold and he could barely breath.

He sat there, on the ground, leaning back against the door, crying his lungs out of his body, wailing like a baby and nobody who'd hear and answer his cries. Squalo wouldn't come and dry his tears. Nobody would. So he remained there, crying, screaming and sobbing with only one deep wish.

Please come back! Supbi-- please--- please come back, brother! Don't leave me alone again! Don't leave me behind!

Outside the room Lorenzo couldn't move a muscle, just listen to the muffled cries he could make out just a few centimeters away from the door. All rooms were made almost perfectly noise cancelling, but Ava was still right at the door, crying his entire heart out. Of course he would hear something. He lifted his hand to knock, but then decided against it. There was nothing he could do. Nothing anyone could do to console the young boy. All that could help was if all of a sudden Squalo waltzed in and declared that he was perfectly fine. But other than that-- nothing. Lorenzo lowered his hand again and closed his eyes. It was painful to hear him so completely broken. Someone like Ava, with such bright eyes and such a soft smile should not have to experience something like this... He took a deep breath and pulled away from the door, making his way down the hall. At least... he knew Ava was still around and where to find him.

When Ava woke up his head hurt, his eyes felt crusty and his whole body was in pain. He had just fallen asleep mid crying, possibly from the mental exhaustion and slept in front of the door until the next morning. It felt weirdly surreal to wake up to the sun shining. Almost as if the night prior hadn't even happened.

I need to get to work...

Stiff and dissociative Ava stood up and left the room, locking the doors as he made his way almost slugishly towards the kitchen by pure instinct. He wasn't even hungry. It was just his daily routine. Kitchen, missionboard, briefing, work. Everyone he passed made way without saying anything. He didn't even care if they pitied him.

Going through the motions he entered the kitchen, hardly acknowledging Sergey and Leo, as he went to make himself a cup of tea. It was an automatism at this point.

"Hey... Morning, Ava."

"Morning.", he said emotionless and waited for the kettle to boil. It was completely quiet.

"Hey um--... Ava? Bruno said that he'll take you off schedule for today so you can.... relax a bit." Sergey said softly as if he was handling a tiny stry kitten.

So I am being pitied... They don't even think I can handle work... Then again maybe this is the best call. I might endanger someone else if I space out too much.

The kettle was done boiling and he took out a mug to put a teabag in and dowse it with hot water. Not how he'd usually make tea, but he had no energy for a proper brew. He took the cup to sit down at the bar, staring into the slowly colouring liquid, ignoring the seering heat from the mug that was burning his hands. His mind was completely blank. Not a single thought formed in his head. He just stared down into the mug and kept quiet. It felt like an eternity and at the same time only a minute before someone approached him and he looked up into Leos concerned face who placed a plate with a freshly made sandwich on the table, showing Ava a small note that read

"Eat at least something small"

"I'm not hungry, thank you." he said with a polite but empty smile, watching Leo flip the note around showing only one word.

Please

He didn't know what to answer. Leo had gone out of his way to properly prepare something for Ava to eat, he couldn't just keep denying his effort. Even if he was still pretty new to their organisation Leo had already proven himself to be a very nice and caring person. He wasn't trying to boss Ava around, he knew this much. it was pure and honest worry for a colleague.

"Thank you." Ava said finally and seeing a small smile spread on Leos face, as he watched Ava take the sandwich and take a small bite. Despite how delicious it was, it was weirdly tasteless to him. It looked like all of his senses had dulled.

"God damn can someone remove that depressed toddler from the premises?" Ava didn't need to look up to know he was being adressed by someone. From the sound of it it was a rather obnoxious guy from the lightning division.

"So your oh so holy big brother lost and got chomped by a shark, big deal, cry me a fucking river, at least this way officer Levi will finally become the bosses right hand-"

Sergey had explosively pushed himself from leaning against the nearest counter, stomping over to the guy and grabbing him by his hair, pulling him outside under strong protest and struggle that died down outside.

Ava took his hands away from the mug and got up.

"I'm sorry. I've lost all apetite. I will be taking my leave.," he said in a hushed voice and left the kitchen, not even acknowledging how Sergey was choking out the lightning division member. He was so tired. He just wanted to sleep and never wake up again. Or at least not until his brother had returned home. He made his way back to the room, only halting for a second when he noticed a bottle of water next to the door. Someone... knew he was staying here and was looking out for him.

But he ignored it and simply entered the room again, letting the doors fall into the lock, before he placed his forehead against the intricate wood. It smelled like cedar. It was such a weirdly nostalgic smell even though he barely remembered his past.

He didn't remember their mother or their father, barely even his own brother. But he clearly remembered one thing. One moment that had driven him to become versed with a sword and follow his brothers footsteps, to find him and stay by his side. His eyes watered again and he pushed himself away from the door. Finally he took off his old clothes and went to the closet to see what he could find. He noticed a long sleeved grey shirt and took it ut to put it on, feeling a form of comfort in how much bigger it was on his body and kept his own boxers before he checked the nightstand for any painkillers. Then he flushed a high dose down with some sink water and layed down in the big bed. The matress was so much harder than his own. But it was okay. He was exhausted and he wanted to just drown in the familiar and soothing scent that was at least calming him down somewhat.

When Squalo woke up in the hospital he felt his entire body aching with a dull pain. He knew this sort of feeling. He was on strong painkillers. breathing was a struggle with how much it hurt and he could hardly even groan. What had even happened? He looked around a bit and noticed a very familiar figure. Romario? What the hell is he doing he-

Suddenly it came back to him. The ring battles, his fight with the sword kid, his loss and--- his blinding pride-

Ava!

He tried to get up, groaning in pain, the machines he was stuck to blaring loudly. The door opened and a familiar voice grounded him back.

"What are you doing?! You're too injured to move like that yet!"

Dino.

Of course. The bucking bronco always had to get himself involved in matters he had no buisness in. Still. Right now Squalo was glad to see the other. His speaking was restricted, but he managed to make out one simple name.

"A-....va--...."

Dino closed his eyes and exhaled annoyed.

"Finally. Honestly, I almost thought you had completely lost your mind from that strike to your head. What were you thinking?! You knew he was watching that fight!"

That's not what I need to know!

Squalo tried to move again.

"Stop it. You're just going to make your condition all the worse. Of course I called him right away and told him that you're alive. We both know that if I didn't--" He didn't finish the thought. They both were very aware of how fragile Avas mental stability was when it came to his brothers safety and wellbeing.

What was I thinking... throwing my life away... Even though it's my pride as a swordsman, to do something like this to Ava--

He managed to look towards Dino. His speech was significantly impaired and it took all he had to stay conscious enough to talk and form thoughts, but it was enough for the moment.

"I.... owe.... you...."

"You certainly do. I can't believe you'd do this to him. If I didn't anticipate you being reckless again-"

"Get... me.... back.... to.... italy...."

Dino stared at Squalo with surprise, but caught himself.

"I can't do that. Not yet. Ava knows you're alive, and I can tell him that you woke up. But I can't just let you go, Squalo. You have to answer a few things first-"

"Fine.", he said in a hushed tone, shocking Dino with his compliance.

"Just... make... sure... I'll... be able... to... go... back...."

Dino wasn't entirely sure what Squalo meant by that, but to him it was obvious. If he survived this there was a good chance that Xanxus would gun for his head. And in turn endanger Ava with this. Only someone with the power that Dino had could ensure that at least Ava would be save from that lunatics wrath.

"Allright. But you need to rest now. I don't want to call Ava and tell him that you're dying again, because you refused to rest and recover."

It was almost a month before the officers and the boss returned to Varia HQ. Things had gone their usual tempo for a while now. There was nothing newsworthy and everyone kept quiet about the ring battles. Nobody dared to utter a word. Some knew that mentioning one specific fight would get half the rain division on your neck, some held their tongue not to speak of the revelations and end of the sky ring battle. Squalo was the one that returned last, having had to be treated off premises for his wounds.

When he returned however it was almost insultingly quiet. His division was working as usual and while everyone seemed thrilled that he was back, they all exchanged strange glances. More than anything else however, he was surprised that one person specifically hadn't waited at the doors for his arrival.

Slugishly he entered the breakroom, seeing Sergey and Ava sit at the table over reports. Ser looked up a wide grin on his face as he jumped up from his seat.

"Captain! You're back!"

At the loud exclaim Ava looked up and towards the door. Squalo lifted his hand in greeting.

"Yo."

He had expected Ava to jump up in joy, throw over the chair and hug him tightly as he welcomed Squalo back- but none of that. Instead Ava smiled politely.

"Welcome back, Captain. How are you feeling?"

Even Sergey was surprised at this reaction, staring in disbelief at Ava, who looked back towards the papers.

"We're almost done with our reports for today and will give them to Bruno right away."

".... Right."

Something was definitely off.

"Say, Ava, I need to talk to you in private, would you come with me for a second?"

"Of course, Captain."

Sergey simply watched as Ava got up and followed Squalo, unsure what to make of Avas behavior.

All while they walked towards Squalos room it was quiet. Ava didn't engage in conversation, didn't break the usual polite distance you'd have to your superior and didn't do anything that would be out of the ordinary, which in itself was not normal. Finally they reached Squalos room and he unlocked the door, letting Ava in first, while he followed.

As soon as Squalo had entered as well and the door fell into it's lock Ava jumped towards him, arms wrapped tightly around Squalos torso, clinging to his back and pressing his face into his brothers chest.

Of course he wouldn't be unaffected.

But somehow seeing Ava cling to him so tightly calmed Squalo down. He didn't lose his emotions. He had been traumatized, but at least he hadn't become completely closed off in his emotions. The sensation of wetness right around his chest, hit Squalo and he noticed the terrible shaking of Avas body, his own body softening. Despite the pain from his still lasting injuries, he wrapped his arms back around his younger brother and held him close, so he truly would feel it. The tight embrace made Ava choke on a sob, before he finally allowed himself to openly cry.

"I'm so sorry for scaring you, Ava.", Squalo said softly, stroking gently over Avas head, treating him like the child he still was with barely 16 years old. He leaned down to give him a kiss on his light blue hair- their mothers haircolor, and kept him close. Everything else could fuck off and wait. The Boss, the organisation- the entire world could fuck right off for the rest of the day. All that was important right now was for him to be a big brother and reassure Ava that he wouldn't leave him all of a sudden.

"I'm back home, Ava. I promise I won't leave you behind again. Ever."

[seaoftheworst]

@burikubato sent: "It is you I cannot sacrifice." (Whitebeard for Ace.)

𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 (a collection of prompts from the TV show “Bridgerton”, feel free to adjust phrasing and gendered terms as necessary)

It wasn't right. Pops was far more valuable to the crew than Ace ever could be, and this was his price to pay. He made the mistake of underestimating Teach, he disobeyed and went after the traitor. It was not fair that Pops fight to correct his mistake, to prevent him from being executed. I'm not worth a war. "Pops. Please." I'm not worth anything.

[saetoshis]

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ ON DUTY | kaiju no. 8 headcanons

⋆୨୧˚ WITH: ichikawa reno ; hoshina soshiro ; gen narumi

⋆୨୧˚ SUMMARY: where and how they like to fuck you on-base!

⋆୨୧˚ MATURE CONTENT WARNINGS:

fem reader, exhibitionism, suit play [?], oral f. receiving, creampie, pet names [baby, pretty girl], MDNI.

⋆୨୧˚ ICHIKAWA RENO

one thing about reno is his ability to be sly when he needs to. thinking outside the box, considering enemy moves one step ahead - he can truly be sneaky. that might be why he so easily came up with a plan to sneak out after lights-out just to meet up with you. he found an empty office, making sure patrols or cameras were nowhere to be found.

"shh, little quieter, okay?" reno mutters under his breath as he presses his palm over your mouth gently, his other hand having two fingers buried inside your needy pussy. you're so close together, having only a cramped space to do this; your legs wrap around his waist as you sit on the desk, chest pressed up against his. "just moan into my hand, yeah, like that."

"h-hard to be quiet when you're- mm- going so hard," you whimper out airily into his hand, your head reeling back when he fucks his fingers into you a certain way. your thighs shudder around him, and you can feel his cock growing harder each second he's pressed up against you. your arms wrap around his neck, fingers flitting through his hair erratically.

"gonna put it in now, 'kay?" reno pants out in need as he replaces his fingers with his cock, sliding in languidly and savoring each and every desperate enclosure of your cunt around him. he moans out a small 'fuck' when he starts to rut his hips, letting them merge into a quick rhythm that has you clinging onto him and whimpering against his big shoulder. "f-fuck, baby... feels so good. want you to cum on my dick, yeah."

the two of you are so lost in ecstasy that you don't realize the rhythmic bump of the desk against the wall, desperately attempting to muffle each other's moans and mews as you get closer and closer. with a heavy final rut and a shuddered moan out loud, you both are sent reeling in pleasure as you make a mess of each other. reno tries to catch his breath, coming to with a small gasp, "fuck, do you think anybody heard? i should find a better place next time..."

⋆୨୧˚ HOSHINA SOSHIRO

hoshina isn't one for breaking the rules necessarily, or even one to slack off while on the clock - but tonight was different. it was unbelievably late, the whole third division command center was essentially empty, and all kaiju within a ten mile radius were silent on the radar. maybe he could get away with it...

he doesn't even bother slipping out of his anti-kaiju suit before he's lifting you onto the control panel counter, lips pressing messy, open-mouthed kisses along the crook of your neck. all he can think about is how dirty it feels to fuck you where anybody could walk in at any moment. "wanna try somethin' new i've been thinkin' about."

"huh?" you query between heavy panted breaths, slipping your thighs further apart on either side of his hips to accommodate him. you both watch closely as his fingers slowly remove your suit, wandering your waist, then your hips, then your panties. all hoshina mutters along the shell of your ear is a rasped, "i'll show you what."

you finally start to put two and two together when he unzips his own tight-fitted suit, yet keeps it on his body as he presses the head of his cock against the wet spot on your panties. he languidly slips the fabric to the side, letting out a low grunt as he presses his forehead against yours when he ruts forwards. "fuck- wanna see how much you can take with the suit on. you can handle it, can't ya?"

you nod eagerly, already letting out little whines in time with each heavy rock of his hips. it already feels more intense than usual, and he hasn't even put much force into it. you shudder when he picks up the pace, his muscles tautening each time he ruts harder in succession. it's when his hands grip at your thighs and he fucks a bit rougher that you're whimpering out behind your hand in an attempt to stay quiet. "shh- that's it, take it. think you can lemme work up to 50% tonight?"

⋆୨୧˚ GEN NARUMI

narumi doesn't have a problem playing it a little risky, especially when it comes to work. he'd rather laze around as long as possible before he has to get suited up - but backwardly, he also has no problem taking his time fucking you on a time crunch, either.

"narumi, aren't you supposed to start patrol in like, 5 minutes?" you pant out between strained whimpers, trying so hard not to get sucked into his explorative touches and tantalizing kisses. you hold back a shudder when his hand drags up your shirt, circling your nipple and watching it eagerly harden under his fingers. "can't be doing this right now..."

"don't care," he sneers and flashes you an obstinate, yet enigmatic look in his eyes as he slips your shirt upwards. he has you lay on your back as he dips his head down your chest, leaving flicks of his tongue and panted kisses on your tits. it's when his fingers start rubbing between your thighs that you start to cave, feeling a pressure building in your body. narumi looks back up at you, a mischievous glint in his gaze. "wan' you to cum all over my face before i leave. not gonna suit up 'til you do, pretty girl."

"that's so irresponsible-" you start, cut off by a shivered gasp when he slips your shorts and panties off and buries his face between your legs. his tongue swipes along your clit as his fingers dig into the plushness of your hips, little groans leaving his mouth as he tastes and tastes until he's satisfied. knowing him, it'll take a while before he is. "p-please, narumi, they're gonna yell at you."

"don't care. think they're gonna fire me? their strongest captain? nahh," narumi sneers before returning his tongue back to your clit, sucking and rolling his tongue against it over and over again. he knows you're close, he knows how your body works. it's when he uses his fingers to curl against that spot in your walls that he's moaning out, 'cum for me, cum for me, yeah', and watching you shudder as you release all the pent-up stress from your week. a voice sounds over his receiver, barking orders for him to hurry to command center. he sighs, "i know, i know. i'm on the way now."

he turns off the mic again, his little grin coming back to his face. "see? got it done in five minutes, didn't i? better wait for when i get back, yeah? not done with you just yet."

2024 SAETOSHIS. do not copy/repost.

[xamaxenta]

summer scorcher ☀️ stay hydrated 💦

its a shame I couldn’t share him on my bday but in reality im glad I didn’t rush the process

Please enjoy the grand lines most sexy but useless lifeguard in existence bc he cannot swim 🥰

[mallomars]

Portgas D ace

[lady-lauren]

❥ PORTGAS D. ACE X FEM!READER

❥ WORD COUNT: 1.9k

❥ WARNINGS/TAGS: ~surprise~ he's the virgin, experienced reader, face sitting, praise, use of "good boy", creampie, Ace goes pussy drunk but who can blame him

→ Kinktober Masterlist ←

“Have you eaten pussy before, pretty boy?” 

The rosy pink that blooms around his freckles tells you no. Your sheets stick to the sheen of sweat across Ace’s skin, his tattoos glowing in the lamplight. His brows are pinched as he fists his hard cock, twitching against his stomach as he tugs from base to leaking tip. 

“Bet you taste so good,” he offers a classic grin, tongue sweeping over his canine as dark eyes stare at the naked juncture between your legs. 

Convincing the charming second division commander to let you…teach him was a more difficult task than you expected. He’s still shielding innocence behind bravado. No one else on the crew knows he’s a virgin—he only told you after one too many at the bar, when your hand started tugging on his belt and his face flushed red beneath the shadow of his hat.

It took weeks of gentle prodding and lustful teasing to fully wind your siren song.

You grip his chin, pressing your mouth to his in a greedy kiss that has him groaning. His lips are soft, plump and hot, so comfortably melding into your movements, slanting and sucking and whimpering. He’s a quick learner, so happy to please.

Quickly, you replace your mouth with a thigh, Ace’s warm lips ghosting across your skin as you settle your hips above his face. The view of him is immaculate, all perfectly carved muscle and his fat cock drooling between thick thighs.

Strong arms lock around your legs, eager to bring your wet cunt to his mouth and lick a testing, teasing hot stripe between your folds. 

“Easy,” you gasp when he presses the tip of his tongue to your swollen clit, “I don’t wanna smother—”

“I’ll die happy,” he pulls your weight farther down, shoving his face between the fat of your thighs. 

“Slow,” you rock your hips over his mouth, lashes fluttering as he listens and gives you several long, languid rolls of his tongue through your folds, “just like that, yeah.”

Ace hums at the praise, cock jumping and begging for attention. 

Big hands bruise your hips and thighs as he grips you for dear life, groaning and pulling like he’s going mad beneath you.

“Use your tongue on my cl—” he acts before you hit the last consonant, making your tummy flutter as he swirls sloppily around your clit. 

“So messy,” Ace mumbles into your pussy, slurping and sucking against your swollen bud. Your thighs shake as you moan, pressing your hands against his plush chest to gain balance.

“You like the taste of my messy pussy, Ace?” your words are breathy, losing their edge as webs of pleasure start to crawl underneath your skin. 

“Fuck yeah, taste better than I dreamed,” his affirmation vibrates to your very core.

Your vision blurs with bliss, yet you can still make out his dripping cock, swollen red and weeping and begging for release against the black, downy hair of his stomach. Sticky pre-cum leaks from his flushed head, pooling into his skin as his cock bobs for you. 

His cock is so tempting, veiny and fat and just the perfect length to make a girl scream. How he’s kept to himself for so long, you’ll never know.

“Oh, you’re so, so good,” you moan and jerk your hips from his ministrations, “put your tongue in me, please.”

You feel the way he grins at your plea, wicked and self-satisfied. His tongue is slow to leave your clit, laving against it with too-hot, too-teasing flat licks. Then he presses his tongue against your tight hole, gathering your slick onto his tongue before pushing into you.

“Oh, oh fuck,” your legs start to tremble as his tongue thrusts up inside of you, “fuck, fuck, fuck that’s so good,” it’s all a messy whisper, just hot air into the dimly lit room.

Ace dutifully fucks you with his tongue, groaning and grunting into your wetness. His cheeks squish against your thighs, freckles smothered with slick. He’s quick and eager, breath hot as he drowns in you.

“Good boy, oh god, yes.” 

Praise makes him shiver, makes his hips buck as his cock searches for you.

But then his tongue is back to soothing over your wet hole, lapping slowly and pulling you away from the churning coil within your belly.

“Please,” his voice is muffled by your cunt, wet lips moving against your folds, “p-please, wanna feel you on my cock. Your pussy’s so soft.” 

Oh, that breaks you. He’s so good, he deserves to know what it feels like to have a woman wrapped around his pretty cock.

“Okay, okay, baby,” he moans at the pet name, kissing your cunt and slipping his tongue over your clit as you pull yourself from his hold. 

The look in his eyes is desperate as you straddle his hips, spit-slick pussy rubbing against his aching cock. 

“You ready?” you ask softly, leaning forward to brush long, dark hair from his face.

His bold front cracks as he grasps your hips, rutting the underside of his dick into your folds.

“Fuck, yes, please—” 

Air is stuck in his throat as you line his tip to your entrance, popping his fat head into your heat. 

“Oh god.” Ace groans and rolls his head back against the pillow.

“Watch, baby, watch how your cock stretches me.”

Obeying, his thick neck tilts up so his eyes can latch onto where you begin to sink down. 

You take it slow, gummy walls sucking him in inch-by-inch. You take note of how pleasure twists his face, makes him hiss and his pupils dilate. 

“So tight, holy fuck, your pussy is so hot.”

The stretch of him makes your eyes roll, feeling so full as you finally seat yourself on his cock. He’s so sensitive, cock throbbing and hips bucking like he’ll explode at any moment. 

“We’ll go slo—”

“No, no,” Ace sits up in a flash, shocking you as his arms lock around your back, trapping you to his chest, “I-I need more, need to feel, ah,” he grunts as the shift in position has his cockhead knocking into your depths, “more.”

He’s crude in the way he thrusts up into you, hard and fast. You moan and it keeps him going, crushing you against him as he buries his face in your neck. 

“Feels so fucking good, oh my god, baby, I—” he loses his words to pleasure, groaning as he starts a sloppy pace. He’s needy, clawing at your skin, kissing your throat.

“Oh Ace, mhm, you like the feel of me?”

“Never felt something so good in my fucking life.”

Desperately he pushes you down onto the bed, gripping the back of your knees as he uses his strength to thrust into your cunt. He’s wild above you, sweat dripping down his forehead and jaw clenched as he chases a new high. 

You mewl at the position, back arching as you reach for his thighs, pulling him into you.

“T-this okay? Am I hurting you?”

“Don’t stop, baby, keep going.”

You moan as he puts more weight on his hands, rolling your hips back.

The purr in his chest makes your lashes flutter, ecstasy rippling down to where he thrusts hard between your legs. Your pussy squishes around him, a thick vein on the underside of his cock pressing hotly to your walls.

You’re already so close to the edge from sitting on his face, clit puffy as his pelvis pushes into you. He slows down a bit, catching his breath and just grinding himself into your heat. 

Ace whines, overwhelmed as he searches for some kind of absolution in your cunt. 

“Does that feel good?” he releases your knees and leans over your body, fisting the hair at the nape of your neck as he presses a messy kiss to your mouth. 

“So good, you feel so good. Go faster, rub my clit, see what it feels like when I cum.”

“Yeah,” he moans as he sits back on his knees, eyes transfixed on the thick ring of cream you’ve left around his base, “gonna make you cum.”

Having a goal kicks him into a new gear, makes his hips move with a purpose and steady quick pace. 

Ace paws at your bouncing tits, thumbs rolling over your nipples and pinching when they harden. His touch is clumsy and a bit delicate and it makes you hot. 

He’s never felt a woman like this before, never lost himself into the chaos of bliss. 

You’re his first and that does something wild to your ego. To have a man like Ace beg for you, to be able to teach him how to fuck you, it all makes your head spin.

A big hand smoothes down your stomach, pausing right at where you spread around him. 

He takes a few moments to keep barreling into you, getting high off the sounds you make. 

“How should I…?”

“Thumb,” you gasp right as he hits a good spot within you, “circle your thumb over—”

You whimper as he listens to your demand, the thick pad of his thumb swirling over your clit in tight, fast circles. 

“Fuck! That’s it, so good, right there, yes!” 

You’re sure the thin walls can’t keep your screams to themselves, but you’re past a point of caring. Your focus is solely on the liquid heat building where Ace’s thumb rubs against you, lightning and shivers racing down your spine. Your legs go limp and your hands twist in the sheets, hips slamming over his cock as you chase the falling edge of pleasure.

“God you’re so fucking hot, wanna feel your pussy cum, baby. Wanna feel you get so fucking tight and milk my dick.”

The mouth on this man. You knew he’d be vocal but his words make you drunk, dizzy. A whiplash of his naive confidence. 

He keeps tight circles on your clit, his other hand reaching down to cup your ass and slide his thumb next to where his cock spears into your folds. He spreads you there, like he’s curious to see what happens, to see how your pussy reacts and feels. The extra tug makes you feel fuller, wetter as he smears your slick.

“Come on,” he’s starting to falter a bit, cock throbbing, “come on, cum for me, please, please cum for me.” 

His pleading throws you off the cliff, makes your cunt clamp down around him and wring every ounce of pleasure from your body. He bullies in one last thrust, creating a fresh, euphoric jolt splinter down your body. 

Your eyes open just in time to watch Ace come undone, head thrown back as he empties his balls into your tight pussy. His muscular chest rises and falls slowly, cheeks so pink he looks sun kissed. He’s pretty all blissed out, yet so powerful above you.

“You okay?”

Your voice is a little hoarse as you grab his attention, his eyes shining down on you with a mixture of curiosity and delight.

“Wanna do that again,” he groans and lays over you, wrapping his arms around your body and keeping his messy cock lodged deep inside of you, “want you to show me all the positions.” 

“All of them? There’s so many—”

“You promised to teach me, baby. And I bet I can make you cum every time.”

You know better than to bet against him.

[latanyalove]

Loves On Fire

Summary: Ace thinks that you're going to fall out of love with him because of how he travels a lot but you could never.

Song: Friends · Chase Atlantic

Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! Also please follow for more! 🫶

The salt spray kissed your face as you stood on the docks of Dawn Island, the familiar scent bringing a bittersweet ache to your chest. The Striker, Ace's ship, loomed large and imposing before you, sails already unfurled, eager to catch the wind.

You watched him, Fire Fist Ace, Commander of the Second Division of the Whitebeard Pirates. He was a whirlwind of controlled chaos, his black hair tousled by the breeze, that familiar mischievous grin plastered on his face as he barked orders to his crew.

He moved with a confidence that bordered on arrogance, a confidence that both thrilled and terrified you.

He caught your eye, and his entire demeanor softened. The boisterous commander vanished, replaced by the slightly awkward, endearingly clumsy man you knew. He waved, a wide, genuine smile splitting his face, and you returned it, trying to ignore the knot forming in your stomach.

He bounded towards you, his pace quickening with each step. “Hey, Y/N!" he greeted, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. He smelled of smoke and adventure, a potent combination that always left you breathless.

“Ace,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. You wanted to say so much more - I’ll miss you. Be safe. Come back to me. But the words caught in your throat.

He reached out, cupping your cheek with his scarred hand. His touch was warm, grounding. "I won't be gone long, you know," he said, his eyes searching yours.

You forced a smile. "I know. Just...be careful."

He chuckled, a low, reassuring sound. "When am I ever not careful?" He winked, but you saw the flicker of something else in his eyes, a shadow of doubt you hadn't noticed before.

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “Hey, Y/N... You’re not… you’re not going to get tired of this, are you? Of me being gone all the time?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and laced with insecurity. It was the elephant in the room, the unspoken fear that had haunted your relationship since day one.

Ace, Fire Fist Ace, a man who commanded the respect of the entire Grand Line, was afraid of losing you.

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. You understood his worry. His life was a constant whirlwind of missions, battles, and adventures.

He was rarely in one place for long, and your time together was always fleeting, snatched moments amidst the chaos. It was easy to see why he might think you’d grow tired of it, that you’d yearn for a more stable, predictable life.

But he was wrong. So wrong.

“Ace,” you said, your voice firm despite the tremor in your hands. “Look at me.”

He did, his black eyes wide and vulnerable.

“Do you honestly think,” you continued, “that a few weeks, a few months, even a few years, could possibly diminish what I feel for you?”

He didn't answer, his gaze fixed on yours, searching for any sign of deceit.

You took his hand, squeezing it tightly. "I love you, Ace. Not just the idea of you, not just the thrill of your adventures, but you. The man who burns with passion, the man who protects his crew, the goofy idiot who falls asleep in the middle of meals, the man who's scared of losing me even though he's the most fearless person I know."

You paused, letting your words sink in. "Your travels, your missions, they're a part of who you are. They're in your blood. I wouldn't want to change that, even if I could. And honestly," you added with a playful nudge, "who else is going to bring back the weird and wonderful souvenirs you always seem to find?"

A slow smile spread across his face, chasing away the shadows that had clouded his eyes.

"So, you're saying my collection of miniature sea king statues is a contributing factor to our unwavering love?"

You laughed, relieved to see him back to his old self. "It certainly helps." You leaned in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "What I'm saying is that I love all of you, Ace. The part that stays here with me, and the part that sails the seas. The distance doesn't matter. The fact that I would follow you to the ends of the earth should explain my side more clearly."

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. "I love you too, Y/N. More than anything." He buried his face in your hair, inhaling deeply. "I just… I don’t ever want to lose you.”

You hugged him tighter, feeling his heart beating steadily against yours. “You won’t, Ace. I promise.”

He pulled back, his expression serious. "Thank you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "For understanding. For being you."

He paused, then a mischievous glint returned to his eyes. "But just so you know, those miniature sea king statues are collector's items. They'll be worth a fortune someday!"

You rolled your eyes, laughing again. "Of course they are. Only you, Ace."

The ship's bell chimed, signaling his departure. He laced his fingers through yours one last time. "I have to go," he said, his voice tinged with regret.

"I know," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

He leaned down and kissed you, a deep, lingering kiss that promised a swift return. When he pulled away, his eyes were bright with determination.

"I'll be back before you know it," he said. "And I'll bring you something even better than a miniature sea king this time."

With a final squeeze of your hand, he turned and strode towards the Striker, his figure silhouetted against the rising sun. You watched him go, your heart aching with longing, but also filled with a quiet confidence.

As the ship pulled away from the docks, Ace stood at the helm, waving to you until you were just a speck in the distance. You raised your hand in response, a silent promise echoing in your heart.

The days that followed were long and filled with a quiet solitude. You threw yourself into your work, helping the villagers, tending to your garden, and spending time with your friends.

You wrote letters to Ace, pouring out your thoughts and feelings onto the page, knowing that he would treasure them when he finally received them.

You missed him terribly, of course. The evenings were especially hard, when the silence of your small cottage seemed to amplify the absence of his laughter, his touch, his very presence.

But you refused to let the loneliness consume you.

You knew that Ace was out there, fighting, exploring, living his life to the fullest. And you trusted him to come back to you, just as he had promised.

One evening, weeks later, as the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the island, you were sitting on your porch, reading a book. Suddenly, a familiar voice shattered the peaceful silence.

"Y/N!"

You looked up, your heart leaping in your chest. Standing before you, grinning from ear to ear, was Ace. He was tanned and windswept, his clothes slightly rumpled, but his eyes were shining with happiness.

"Ace!" you cried, jumping to your feet and running towards him.

He caught you in his arms, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around. "I'm back!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with joy.

You laughed, tears streaming down your face. "I see that! I missed you so much!"

He set you down, his gaze searching yours. "I missed you too," he said, his voice soft. "More than you know."

He reached into his bag and pulled out a small, intricately carved wooden box. "I told you I'd bring you something better than a miniature sea king," he said with a wink.

You opened the box, and gasped. Inside, nestled on a bed of soft velvet, was a single, perfect seashell. It was iridescent in the fading light, shimmering with all the colors of the rainbow.

"It's beautiful," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion.

"I found it on a deserted island," Ace explained. "It reminded me of you. Strong, resilient, and full of inner beauty."

He took your hand, placing the seashell in your palm. "Keep it with you," he said. "As a reminder that no matter how far apart we are, my heart will always be with you."

You closed your hand around the shell, holding it tight. "Thank you, Ace," you said. "For everything."

He smiled, a genuine, heartfelt smile that reached his eyes. "So," he said, his voice playful again. "What do you say we go inside, and I tell you all about my adventures?"

You looped your arm through his, and together, you walked towards the house, the setting sun painting the sky in hues of orange and gold.

As you listened to Ace's stories, you knew, with absolute certainty, that your love was stronger than any distance, any challenge, any fear.

Ace thought you'd fall out of love with him because of his constant travels. He thought you'd grow tired of the uncertainty, the loneliness, the fleeting moments.

But he was wrong. He was so wrong. Because your love for him was a fire that burned brighter with each passing day, a flame that no amount of distance could ever extinguish. And you were ready to spend a lifetime showing him just how wrong he was.

You were ready to show him that some things, some loves, were simply meant to be. And yours, with Fire Fist Ace, was one of them. That shell, a precious gift from the grand line, stood as a testament to your love, a symbol of a bond that transcended the vast oceans and the perilous adventures.

It was a promise whispered on the wind, a reminder that even across the widest expanse, your hearts would forever remain intertwined. . . .

The raucous cheers still rang in your ears as you walked down the hallway, the scent of sake and grilled meat clinging to your clothes. The party was still going strong on the deck of the Moby Dick, the entire Whitebeard crew celebrating Ace's triumphant return.

A broad smile stretched across your face, mirroring the joy that bubbled within you. You had almost lost him. The thought sent a shiver down your spine, a stark reminder of the fear that had gnawed at you during his mission.

You pushed open the door to Ace's room, a space that had felt eerily empty during his absence. Now, with him lounging on the bed, his signature freckled face relaxed and content, the room felt like it was finally breathing again.

You had spent countless hours in here, curled up with a book, lost in thought, or simply waiting, hoping for his safe return.

"It's good to be back," Ace murmured, his voice a low rumble that resonated through the small space. He stretched, his muscles flexing beneath his sweat-stained shirt. "Thanks for waiting for me."

You chuckled, nudging him playfully with your foot. "Someone had to make sure your room didn't turn into a den of rats while you were gone."

He grinned. "And I appreciate it. You're the best, Y/N)"

The warmth of his words settled over you, a comforting blanket against the lingering chill of worry. "Glad to have you back, idiot. Now, if you'll excuse me," you said, turning towards the door, "I'm going to find you some clothes. You reek of gunpowder and sea salt, Ace."

His hand shot out, gripping your wrist with surprising strength. "Y/N," he said softly, his voice a low drawl that sent a familiar flutter through your stomach. "Where do you think you're going?"

You laughed, trying to ignore the way your heart was suddenly hammering against your ribs. "I told you, Ace. I wanted to get you some new clothes. You stink."

He smirked, his dark eyes glinting with mischief. "What if I took them off?"

The words hung in the air, thick with unspoken desire. Your breath hitched, your cheeks flushing despite your best efforts to remain nonchalant. You swallowed hard, trying to regain your composure.

You knew exactly what he was doing, and you knew you shouldn’t be caught up in it. Not yet, at least. But the pull was undeniable, the magnetic force between you almost unbearable.

"Ace," you began, attempting a scolding tone, but your voice wavered slightly. "There's still a party going on. People will notice if you're suddenly missing."

He tugged you closer, your back now pressed against the door. The heat radiating from his body was intoxicating, his scent a heady mix of smoke and something uniquely him.

"Let them wonder," he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "I've been away for too long. I need to... readjust."

Your gaze flickered to his lips, drawn by an invisible force. His eyes were locked on yours, a silent invitation to lose yourself in the moment.

You knew this game, and you knew you were losing.

He always had this effect on you, a potent blend of charm and raw desire that melted your resistance.

"Ace, stop," you breathed, but the words lacked conviction.

He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "Make me," he whispered, and a jolt of electricity shot through you.

Your hand instinctively reached up, tangling in his raven hair. "You're impossible," you mumbled, your voice barely audible.

"Only for you," he replied, his lips now tracing the curve of your jaw.

The dam finally broke. You surrendered to the need that had been simmering beneath the surface for weeks, months even. You tilted your head back, giving him better access.

"God, I missed you," your voice was shaky.

Ace pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours. "Missed you too, Y/N. More than you know."

You looked at him with a soft expression, the joy of his return still bubbling inside you. "Show me."

He didn't need any further encouragement. His lips crashed down on yours, a kiss that was both demanding and tender, a perfect reflection of the man you loved. You met him with equal fervor, your hands exploring the familiar contours of his back, feeling the hard muscles beneath his worn shirt.

The kiss deepened, tongues dancing, bodies pressing together. The world outside the small cabin faded away, leaving only the two of you, entangled in a web of desire and relief.

He slowly broke the kiss, his breath ragged. He looked down at you, his eyes filled with a passion that made your heart pound even harder. "I want you, Y/N," he said roughly, his voice thick with need.

You swallowed hard, your gaze unwavering. "I want you too, Ace," you breathed.

He wasted no time. His hands reached for the hem of your shirt, slowly pulling it up and over your head. You reciprocated, fumbling with the buttons of his own, eager to feel his skin against yours.

The room quickly became littered with discarded clothing, tangible evidence of the urgency that consumed you both.

The party continued to rage on the deck, oblivious to the intimate scene unfolding in Ace's cabin. The sounds of laughter and music were a distant hum, drowned out by the pounding of your heart and the rasp of Ace's breath against your skin.

He lifted you onto the bed, his hands roaming over your body, igniting a fire in their wake. You met his gaze, your eyes mirroring the desire that burned within him.

He leaned down, his lips finding yours again, and you lost yourself in the moment, in the taste of him, the feel of him, the sheer, unadulterated joy of being in his arms again. . . .

[natsaffection]

Innocence. pt 1 | N.R

Older!Sargent!Natasha x Younger!Soldier! Reader

Warnings: None for now.

Word count: 5,1k

A/N: First of three parts is here! This one covers the very beginning, what we mostly go through during the first few days after leaving the comfort. The pacing might feel a bit slow while reading, but in person, it’s like you’ve already been there for weeks… and your body definitely isn’t thanking you.

The aircraft swayed just slightly with turbulence, but you barely noticed. You were sitting straight-backed in a seat along the right wall, harnessed in, hands resting atop your gear bag like you were afraid to let go of it. Your fingers itched with nerves, not the kind that made you panic, but the kind that made you wait. Watch. Think too much. You weren’t afraid. Not really. You were just…aware. Of everything.

The soldier across from you had his eyes closed, music bleeding faintly from one side of his headset, something with guitar, low and steady. Two others sat a few rows down, murmuring to each other over a bag of sunflower seeds, occasionally laughing too loud before catching themselves. One guy was bouncing his leg fast, his helmet tipped forward like a makeshift blindfold.

Everyone had a way to sit with their nerves. You just stayed still.

You watched the red glow of the overhead light paint everything in harsh shadow, hard edges on uniforms, tight lines across tense mouths. You could smell oil and canvas, gunmetal and worn leather. The air was dry, and warm. Somewhere far ahead, you knew the pilot was calling out distance markers. They were close.

And out there, already on the ground, already waiting..was her. Staff Sergeant Natasha Romanoff. Your new commanding officer. And the one woman you weren’t sure you knew how to impress…but desperately wanted to try.

Four Weeks Earlier

You stood stiffly at the desk, file in hand. The officer on the other side, some square-jawed sergeant you barely knew, was looking at you like he’d just broken bad news and didn’t want to say it twice.

“I’m sorry.” he said, “Aplha-One didn’t select you. High marks, yes. But they’ve got their own standards.”

You stared at the floor. Your mouth was dry. It wasn’t fair to cry, this was part of the game, you knew that..but still. You’d killed yourself for this unit. Two years of discipline, sweat, tests, sacrifices. Aloha-One was the goal.

“However…” he continued, sliding a second file toward you. “You scored extremely high in tactical reasoning and zero-error protocol under stress. Another team saw your data.”

You looked up slowly. “They want you in Echo 9. SSGT Romanoff’s division.”

Your fingers twitched on the edge of your folder. “Echo 9?”

“They don’t recruit often. But when they do, it’s for a reason. You caught someone’s attention.”

You hesitated. You’d heard the stories, Romanoff’s unit was covert, fast-moving, low profile. Their ops were real, and rarely spoken about.

Alpha-one had been the dream. But Echo 9? That was…something else. You blinked back the sting in your eyes and nodded. “I’ll take it.”

Back to Present

You rolled your shoulders gently. You kept looking at the door, the one that would open and spill you into dust, hot wind, and the start of whatever came next. You’d land near an isolated base camp in a desert region, you knew that much. Some recon op tied to sensitive cargo and possible extraction. High alert. Your first true deployment outside the wire.

Your chance to see her.

You’d only met twice, once during evaluation, and once during the fastest, coldest briefing you’d ever been through. Romanoff had scanned you like she already knew everything, your past, your stats, your tells. Like you’d already said enough by standing in front of her.

Two Weeks Ago

You were sitting cross-legged in the middle of your paper mess, balancing your tablet on one knee and typing with your thumb. A to-do list bloomed across the screen:

• Cancel lease

• Storage unit rental

• Forward mail to Mom

• Emergency contact

• Get tactical gloves (broken stitching)

• Sell old field jacket

Your fingers paused. You looked around the space, still half-lived in. Walls still had photos. Fridge still had magnets. The place didn’t feel like it was missing you yet. But you were already halfway gone.

A few hours later, your best friend Harlow came over to help you pack. You stuffed gear into crates and duffels, argued over which mugs to leave behind, and finally just collapsed onto the couch, still sweaty from lifting boxes.

“I can’t believe they picked you..” Harlow teased, nudging you.

You threw a pillow. “Screw off.”

“No, really. Romanoff? Echo 9? That’s wild. You’re gonna have stories.”

You smiled faintly. “If I come back with stories, it means I didn’t mess it up.”

Harlow looked at you. “You won’t mess it up. You’re meant for this.”

Back to Present

You let out a slow breath, fogging the air just slightly. Someone nearby tightened a strap; someone else cracked their knuckles.

Almost there. And somehow, in the middle of all this..the adrenaline, the altitude, the silence between heartbeats, you felt something else rise in your chest.

Pride.

With a sharp hiss, the hydraulic doors cracked open, and in the same instant, it hit you- The heat. It slammed into your face like a physical wall, dry, thick, pulsing with sun-baked intensity. Your breath caught for a moment, involuntarily. Not from shock, but from the weight of it. It wasn’t just hot, it was the kind of heat that crawled down the back of your neck, sat in your boots, and stole the moisture from your lungs.

You blinked, eyes adjusting to the brutal midday glare. The light was white. So bright the sand looked like it was glowing. A wasteland of tan and beige, mountains ghosting in the distance, like mirages wavering in the heat lines. Your boots clunked against the ramp as you followed the line of soldiers off the aircraft, dust already collecting around your ankles.

“Welcome to hell.” someone muttered behind you. You didn’t reply. You just kept walking, adrenaline mixing with sweat.

The group gathered in formation just beyond the landing zone, sweat already beginning to pool beneath gear not meant for this kind of sun. The tarmac shimmered. A breeze kicked up, hot and sharp with the scent of sand, diesel, and sweat. A tall man in a scorched tan uniform approached, clipboard in hand, sleeves rolled up, sunglasses hiding his eyes.

“Listen up!” he barked. The chatter died instantly. “Today’s the twelfth. It’s 122 degrees out. That’s forty-nine Celsius for you metric-lovers. Hydrate, don’t pass out. You’re not heroes if you collapse on Day One.”

Someone coughed behind you. A few nods. The air was too hot for anything more. The man paused, then added with a dry smirk, “Romanoff’s waiting at Command. You’ll meet her shortly.”

And just like that, the atmosphere shifted, not from the sun this time, but from the name. Romanoff.

You felt a twinge in your chest. Sharp, curious, alert. “She really as hot as they say?” someone to your left whispered under his breath. His voice was low, but not low enough.

“Oh, she’s more than hot..” another guy replied, cracking a grin. “They say she can kill a man and give him a boner at the same time.”

Several soldiers chuckled, their laughter quick, dirty, laced with the kind of bravado that only came when they thought they were out of earshot. Your jaw tensed. You didn’t know Natasha well, yet..but something about the casual, sexual tone made your stomach twist. This wasn’t the kind of place you joked like that. Not about your people.

Then, a silence. It didn’t come slowly. It snapped into place like a rope pulled tight. You turned just slightly. There she was.

Natasha was walking toward you, slow and composed, each step measured, boots kicking up puffs of dust in her wake. Her uniform fit like it was cut for her alone, sleeves rolled up, tags tucked in, not a wrinkle on her. She carried no visible weapon, but no one needed proof.

She was the weapon.

Every soldier in the group straightened, even those who didn’t realize they were doing it. And her eyes, flat, cold, and controlled, landed directly on the man who’d made the joke.

“Name?” she asked, voice like ice under fire.

The guy swallowed. “Uh…Private Miles, ma’am.”

She walked up to him. Close. Too close. Their boots were almost touching. You couldn’t see her eyes anymore, but you saw his. They widened a fraction. His shoulders stiffened. The grin was gone.

“Private Miles..” Natasha said softly, voice barely above a whisper, “if I ever hear you speak about another soldier that way again, especially one in my command, I will personally make sure your transfer home includes a medical dishonorable discharge, and a broken jaw to explain it.”

The air around you didn’t move. Even the breeze seemed to stop. Miles stood like a statue. No response. No breath.

“And if you’re wondering whether I’m ‘as hot as they say,’” she added, stepping just slightly closer, her tone a thread away from venom, “I suggest you test your theory in a combat scenario. I’d love to see how long you last.”

Then she stepped back. “Eyes front.”

The entire group snapped to attention. You felt your pulse in your throat. You hadn’t moved, hadn’t blinked. It was like watching lightning strike just beside you. Romanoff turned to face everyone now, still calm, still unreadable.

“I’m Staff Sergeant Romanoff.” she said, tone level, eyes scanning the line. “You’re now part of Echo 9. That means your record matters less than your performance. You are responsible for each other. If you want to act like civilians, I suggest you turn back now.”

No one moved.

“Training begins tomorrow at 0500 (5:00am). Briefing starts at 0430 (4:30 am) sharp. You’ll receive bunks and assignments from base command in the next ten minutes. Hydrate. Unpack. Do not be late.” She paused. “Dismissed.”

Without another word, she turned on her heel and walked back toward the base structure, heat swirling behind her in shimmering waves.

No one spoke for a long time. You swallowed, throat dry as bone. You couldn’t tell if your heartbeat was from the sun, or from her.

The base wasn’t much to look at, a sprawl of beige and metal, containers turned into housing, makeshift fences, worn banners catching the wind like tired flags. The ground was cracked and sun-bleached, the heat radiating off the concrete like an invisible second sun.

You followed the thin trail of other soldiers toward the housing row. A clipboard had been shoved into your hands moments after Romanoff’s departure, listing your bunk number and clearance ID. A container near the outer edge. Far enough from command to feel temporary. Close enough to hear the weight in every bootstep.

When you reached it, you paused. The container was basic, standard military housing. Matte green. Bolted shut with a manual handle. But it was yours. At least for now. You lifted the latch and stepped inside. Cooler air hit your face immediately, not cold, but not scalding either. A cheap mercy.

Inside, there were two narrow bunks, one metal locker each, a shared footlocker in the center, and a cracked mirror bolted above a dented sink. Sparse, lived-in, but clean. And someone was already unpacking on the left side.

She was bent over her duffel, sorting through rolls of gauze, small vials, medical wraps, her dark hair pulled into a messy low bun. She looked up when you entered and grinned.

“You must be Y/l/n.”

You blinked. “Yeah. That’s me.”

The girl stood, wiping a smudge off her cheek with the back of her hand. “I’m Rae. Rae Bishop. You snore, you die.”

You laughed, tension bleeding out of your shoulders almost instantly. “Fair enough.”

You shook hands, firm, quick. That unspoken military rhythm already forming. You tossed your bag onto the right bunk and began peeling off your outer vest, already feeling a small pool of sweat at the base of your spine.

Rae slid a canteen across the small desk toward you. “You look cooked. Drink.”

You did. It was warm, but water was water. “You infantry?” Rae asked, hopping up to sit on her bunk, boots still on.

“Combat operations.” you replied, settling on your own bunk and unlacing one boot. “Support and recon for Exho 9. You?”

“Medic.” Rae said, tapping the red cross patch on her shoulder. “Second rotation. Got here three weeks ago.”

You raised a brow. “So you’ve already survived Romanoff?”

Rae grinned. “Barely. She’s not as scary when she’s not slicing you open with her eyes. But yeah..she’s the real deal.”

You nodded. You knew that already. The image of Natasha walking through the dust, silencing that joke with only a look and a sentence, it was burned into you.

“What made you volunteer?” Rae asked.

You hesitated for a second. “Wasn’t my first choice. But this unit…feels like it might be the right one after all.”

Rae smiled knowingly. “Same.”

A knock at the metal door broke the moment. Three short raps. You exchanged a quick glance.

Rae swung the door open. Three guys stood outside, dusty, still geared-up, grinning. You recognized two of them from the aircraft. The third held a dented pack of cards in one hand and a pack of instant ramen in the other.

“Y/l/n..” the tallest one said, “we’re playing cards in the rec tent. You in?”

Rae raised an eyebrow and muttered, “Wow, no invite for me?”

“You don’t lose gracefully.” one of them shot back.

You hesitated. The memory of that crude joke on the tarmac flashed in your head. Your mouth tightened slightly, and you crossed your arms, thoughtful.

“I don’t usually hang out with people who make sex jokes about our CO.”

The smiles wavered, just for a second. One of the guys, younger than the rest, rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. That was Miles. He’s…well. He’s eating dinner alone tonight.”

The third guy nodded. “Look, no pressure. But you seemed chill. No one’s looking to mess around or anything. We’re just…unwinding.”

There was a beat of silence. The hot wind pushed dust across the open door. Inside, the cool air hummed. Then you sighed. “Alright. But if you deal me crap cards, I’m walking.”

Laughter broke out immediately, easy and welcome. Rae grinned and flopped back onto her bed. “Tell ‘em I taught you everything.”

The rec tent was barely lit, strings of mismatched bulbs hung along the corners, buzzing softly. Folding chairs surrounded a center table, already cluttered with cards, crumpled wrappers, and one old speaker playing lo-fi beats someone swore helped with morale.

You took a seat, your body still adjusting to the tempo of the place, the slight vibration of generators, the scent of old coffee, the shift in your nerves from edge to ease. You played three rounds. Lost one. Won two. Someone made fun of your poker face, or lack thereof, and you shot back with a sarcastic quip that made Rae snort water through her nose.

They didn’t talk about Romanoff again. They didn’t talk about war, or blood, or fear. Just music. Home. The taste of actual food. The way sand got everywhere. Laughter felt strange at first — awkward and too loud in the open air, but then it settled in like warmth.

Before you knew it, the sky outside the rec tent had turned from gold to steel blue. Then to black.

0500 Hours

The alarm pierced the air like a bullet. You flinched upright in your bunk, adrenaline kicking before your brain caught up. Your heart was hammering. For a second, you had no idea where you were.

The room was still dark, bathed in faint blue light from the small LED clock bolted to the wall. Your eyes tracked across the plain metal ceiling. The thin sheets twisted around your legs. The sound of Rae breathing across the room. Dust floating through a stream of early light filtering between the blinds.

Then, heat. That dry, ever-present warmth, already crawling in through the container’s thin insulation. The heavy scent of sand and sweat. The sound of footsteps, boots outside the wall. A voice barking out a name. A door slamming.

Camp.

Deployment.

It came back all at once. You exhaled and scrubbed a hand over your face. The ache in your spine was from the unforgiving bunk. The itch on your skin? Dust. Always dust.

You dressed quickly, muscle memory already forming after a single day. Tactical undershirt. Lightweight fatigues. Boots laced to regulation tightness. Canteen clipped, ID tags tucked, comm unit ready.

Rae stirred behind you. “Tell Romanoff I’m alive..” she muttered, voice rough with sleep.

You smirked. “No promises.”

You stepped out into the early dawn air. The sky was a hazy pink, sun just starting to rise over the distant ridges. Heat was already forming, like a warning curled around the horizon.

The training yard was a square of cracked earth and sandbags. Half the unit was already assembled, some stretching, others checking weapons or reviewing briefing notes on slim tablets. Conversations were low, sparse, and cautious.

You spotted Martinez, Johnson, a few others. Miles stood off to the side, arms crossed, avoiding everyone’s eyes. A knot of anticipation hung in the air.

Then.. “She’s here.”

Every head turned. Natasha walked across the yard with zero wasted movement. Black tactical vest over sun-bleached fatigues, combat boots spitting dust behind her. Hair tied back. Calm, controlled. Not out of breath. Not rushed. She stopped dead center.

“Morning.” she said. One word. It hit harder than any shout. Everyone straightened.

“You’ll be split between physical combat, strategy, survival theory, and behavior conditioning. Yes, it’s hot. Yes, it’s early. No, I don’t care. This unit doesn’t carry excuses.”

She turned toward a group of soldiers. “First pair-up. Hand-to-hand.” She scanned them once, then landed on her target.

“Miles.”

He stepped forward stiffly. She waited.

“…Ma’am?”

“I said combat sparring. Step up.”

He did. Hesitant. You felt the buzz ripple through the unit. Everyone knew exactly what this was about. Then Natasha looked at you.

“Y/l/n. You’re with him.”

Your stomach flipped, but not in fear. Your fingers twitched at your sides. Excitement, fire, something warm rising in your chest. You stepped forward, facing Miles.

He frowned. “We’re doing this for real?”

Natasha tilted her head, expression unreadable. “Unless you’d prefer to sit this out.”

He flinched, barely, but got into a ready stance. Defensive. Hesitant. His center of gravity too high. You didn’t wait. You stepped in, low and fast. A feint to the right, testing him. He flinched. His hands came up late.

Then he swept under, pivoted his foot..And stopped. He didn’t finish the strike.

But Natasha did. In a blink, she stepped in from the side, grabbed Miles by the collar with one hand, and drove her knee hard between his legs. The sound he made wasn’t even a word. He crumpled, knees buckling, face contorting in shocked pain as he hit the dirt.

A beat of silence. Natasha turned, looking directly at the rest of the men. Voice like ice melting on steel. “Women are underestimated in combat more often than I can count. Happens in the field. Happens in training. But do it in my unit, and you’ll learn the difference between cocky and unconscious.”

She didn’t smile. Not exactly. Just a slow, razor-edged smirk as she turned to you. “Well done. Switch partners.”

Training settled into a brutal rhythm. Mornings began with sparring and PT, climbing walls, crawling through obstacle courses, sprinting under the punishing heat. By midday, it was tactical theory. Sand-tables, holographic maps, mission simulations. Natasha drilled you on terrain advantage, split-second decisions, blind recon.

“Enemies don’t come at you clean.” she said once, pointer hovering over a digital battlefield. “They come when your boots are stuck in mud and your comms are down. Think beyond perfect conditions.”

Afternoons were dedicated to behavior conditioning. How to read a room. Spot a liar. Break a pattern. It wasn’t just about physical training, it was mental warfare.

One session was held in a metal container rigged with sound loops and flashing lights. Designed to simulate chaos. You had to complete logic tests under pressure.

You nearly failed the first time, until Natasha stood behind you and said, calmly, “Breathe slower. Find the rhythm. You control your mind, or the mission controls you.”

By the third day, you were keeping pace. Faster. Sharper. And more confident. The soldiers around you began to notice. Some nodded as they passed. Rae snuck you protein bars and coffee tablets. Even Martinez, cocky and sarcastic, offered to swap gear tips.

Miles? Still avoiding eye contact. You didn’t mind. Not when every sunrise started with that burst of nerves, and every night ended with sore muscles, heavy lungs, and the knowledge that you belonged here more than you ever did anywhere else.

DAY 6

The room was built to look like an alleyway. Cracked walls. Sandbags. Smoke machines filling the air with grit and haze. Speakers embedded in the ceiling blared distant gunfire and shouting, sirens wailing in timed bursts. The simulation chamber was used for high-stress ops training, strategy under pressure, team maneuvering, and live tactical decisions. Everything tracked. Every shot. Every step. Every second.

You crouched low, rifle to your shoulder, sweat soaking your collar. Your breath was fast, lungs burning. You moved with your unit through the mock-up street, Rae trailing you with med gear, Martinez and Johnson flanking either side.

Target: secure a civilian in the “hot zone” evacuate to the south extraction point. Simple, on paper. But nothing ever was.

You breached the second corner, cleared the breach, and..You froze.

Two silhouettes appeared behind a scrim of smoke. Civilian or hostile? You hesitated. Your fingers tensed on the trigger. Your brain tried to assess. The figures move-

And then everything went to hell. A simulated blast went off. Too close. Too loud. Martinez dropped, “wounded.” Rae got separated. A red strobe light flashed across the chamber, symbolic of a “critical failure” in evac timing.

It was over. Simulation terminated. The smoke cleared slowly, the lights steadying. Soldiers blinked in the false dawn of debrief lighting as the system powered down. You ripped your goggles off, chest heaving. Your hands were shaking. Not from fear.

From frustration. Natasha walked in, tablet in hand. Her expression unreadable. She let the silence linger. Then she looked up, eyes slicing through the group like scalpels.

“Everyone out.” she said flatly, not looking at anyone but you. “Except Y/l/n.”

The others filed out silently. Rae gave you a small glance. Not pity. Just understanding. When the door closed, Natasha walked closer. Not looming. Just…present. You stood straighter, trying to lock your jaw. Waiting.

“I want you to explain what happened.” Natasha said.

You hesitated. “I hesitated at the corner. I.. I didn’t want to misfire. The shapes weren’t clear-”

“They weren’t clear?” Natasha repeated, voice cold. “You’ve run that drill four times. You know the shape of that alley. You know what cover looks like from thirty meters. And you froze.”

You swallowed. “Yes, Staff Sergeant.”

“Why?”

You opened your mouth. Closed it. “I.. didn’t trust myself.” you admitted. Quiet.

Natasha nodded once. A slow, deliberate motion. Then she stepped forward until you were almost eye to eye.

“If this had been real..” she said softly, “Martinez would have bled out before Rae could get to him. You would’ve lost your right leg to that blast. And your hesitation would’ve put your entire team in body bags.”

Every word was a scalpel. No yelling. No rage. Just cold truth. You didn’t speak.

“You don’t get to be unsure out there.” Natasha said. “Not when people are counting on you. Not when seconds mean survival. If you doubt yourself again, do it on your own time. Not mine.”

She turned away. Walked two steps. Then stopped. “But…”

You blinked.

“…you still identified the pattern before the system ended the sim. You saw the angle of the shooter. You started moving to block Rae’s exit. That means your instincts are right. You just didn’t trust them.”

Another long pause. “I want you in my class this afternoon. Behavioral split-second response training. Two hours.”

You nodded. “Yes, Staff Sergeant.”

“And Y/l/n?”

“…Yes?”

“If you ever freeze like that again, I’ll personally send you back home with a thank-you card and a slap for wasting my time.”

Your mouth twitched. The sharpest edge of a grin. “Understood.”

DAY 11

The room buzzed with quiet suffering. The overhead lights flickered in that sickly yellow way that only military bulbs seemed to manage. Dust drifted lazily through the stale air. Everyone was slouched somewhere, against the walls, over the table, heads resting in hands, boots half unlaced beneath chairs. Not a single soul was upright by choice.

You sat near the end of the long table, chin propped in one hand, trying to pretend you weren’t blinking longer than you should.

Your thighs still burned from morning PT. Your knuckles were bruised from combat drills. Your brain was a fog of unfinished sleep and half-digested ration bars. Even your boots felt heavy. Like they’d been dipped in cement.

Rae, sitting next to you, looked dead-eyed at her half-full notebook. Johnson was using his own notepad as a pillow. Martinez had a cold pack wedged under his shirt, muttering something about “inhumane training laws” under his breath.

You were wrecked. And no one dared to say it out loud.

The door opened. And just like that, the room snapped into shape. Natasha walked in with a slow, unreadable expression. She didn’t bark a command. Didn’t speak. She didn’t have to.

Her presence alone was a straight line drawn through chaos. Her expression unreadable, calm, but not soft. Alert. A storm in waiting. She walked past all of you without a word and hoisted herself up to sit on the table directly in front of the class , boots planted wide, elbows on knees.

The silence grew dense. Then, slowly, she looked at you. One by one. Not judging. Measuring. You sat straighter. Your heart, despite exhaustion, thudded once. Hard.

She reached for the remote and pressed a button. The screen behind her flickered to life. A drone shot filled the screen, a wide, aerial view of an arid landscape. Cracked land. A village reduced to fragments of stone and splinters. Roofs caved in. A single road, broken with impact craters, carved through what used to be homes.

Everything changed in the room. The fog of exhaustion evaporated. Spines straightened. Eyes locked forward. No one moved. Not even to breathe.

“This..” Natasha said, her voice low, “is the village of Qasira. Forty-seven clicks east of this base. Population, formerly nine hundred. Current? Unknown.”

She let that sit for a second before continuing. “Three days ago, an insurgent convoy passed through the area. They were hit mid-transit. Likely an airstrike from a local faction. Civilians were caught in the crossfire. Local med teams are moving in now. You’re going with them.”

The screen shifted to a satellite map. Pinpoints. Movement indicators. Roads. “This isn’t a combat op. It’s a secure-and-monitor. Your job is to escort, establish perimeter, and provide overwatch while the medics assist the injured and collect survivors.”

Her voice was firm, but there was something in her eyes , a warning, subtle but sharp. “You will be met with three types of people.” she continued. “Those who are glad to see you. Those who resent you. And those who hate you outright. All of them will be scared. Some will be armed. Some won’t.”

Rae swallowed softly next to you.

“You do not fire unless fired upon.” Natasha said. “You do not engage unless absolutely necessary. If someone spits at you, you walk. If someone screams at you, you listen. You are not here to escalate. You are here to protect the people doing their jobs.”

Another click. A street-level image filled the screen, caved-in houses, burnt-out windows, children standing in the rubble, watching the drone.

Your throat tightened.

“This is what real missions look like.” Natasha said, quieter now. “It’s not always bullets and body armor. Sometimes it’s holding a perimeter while someone bleeds out two feet away from you. Sometimes it’s walking past a woman crying over what used to be her kitchen.”

She looked at all of you. And this time, there was no cold edge. Just steel. Steady and unwavering.

“You need to be better than your instincts. You need to be professional, even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.”

A pause. “We leave at 0700 (7am).”

With that, she stood, clicked off the screen, and stepped down. Then, she turned back.

“Gear up. No mistakes.”

The silence lingered after she left. It wasn’t fear. It was something sharper. Something real. You exhaled, slow, as if the weight of the next phase had finally landed on your chest.

Part 2

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[sabo-has-my-heart]

It's two part again. Happy thanksgiving!

Dang, moving is always such a hassle :') I wish things go well for you. *sends love*

It's been a while so I can't really give a detailed story, but to sum up, this is what I literally dreamt of. Y/N works as an Oiran in a busy district in Wano, and Ace once visited it when he was still in the Spade pirates. They had an intense night, and Ace could not forgot the sensation and basically fell in love at first sight. He saved up money to buy Y/N out (not really buying a slave but actually freeing Y/N from the place) However, when he came back for Y/N, he was told that they escaped and the place no longer know Y/N's location.

Ace was disappointed, but that was a story in the past, Ace is now part of the WB pirates. He was secretly still searching for Y/N, though. Then, he recognized a familiar face among one of the member in the nurse crew of WB pirates ship. It was Y/N. The man was over the moon, until he realized, he couldn't possibly come to her and start a conversation with "Have we met? I think I've had s3x with you before". It turned into a cute story between Ace who is now very awkward but is trying his best to start a conversation with the person of his dream. And Y/N who is obvious. Until Y/N finally recognized Ace, and started teasing/flirting him which end up with another heated night for the two of them.

It's a miracle how I can dream of Ace lol, but it was a third person view point dream so I couldn't enjoy much either. It's not the first time I have a weird dream though, for some reasons I keep dreaming of a strange blonde who I have established a romantic relationship with. Well that's way too off topic, I only want to share my ideas with you for fun. I do hope that you prioritize your personal stuff before starting to write again (even tho I miss your write, a lots :'))

Aight that's it for now. Have a great day, have a great thanksgiving week. Best wishes.

- two part

TWO PART ANON! I had a pretty boring Thanksgiving, our oven was broken so we weren't really able to do anything special, that's okay though. Plus I had covid. I'm... mostly better now, still have a cough, but I'm covid negative and raring to go once more! Here's, lol, PART 1!!! All the smut will be in part 2, I hope you enjoy it!

Part 2, Part 3

Warnings: mentions of previous sex, no actual sex yet though (that’s for part 2)

Word Count: 1680

     It felt like it had been an eternity ago since he’d last seen you. In truth, it had only been a couple of years, but with how his heart yearned for you, it felt like longer. Ace hadn’t been one to believe in fairytales, no ‘happily ever after’, no ‘peasant becomes the prince/princess’, and no ‘love at first sight’. At least, not until he’d met you. A courtesan in Wano, no, an Oiran, on par with the greatest of them, with even the great Komurasaki. The first time he had laid eyes on you, he knew he needed to talk to you, the first time he heard your voice, he knew he needed to spend the night with you, and from the first night with you, knew that he needed you in his life. Not just for one night, but for all of them, forever. A passionate night, more passionate than any you had previously known, more loving and caring. One where he couldn’t stop every desire from pouring out of his mouth. His desires for you, to have you, to be with you; and the shocking part, the part that made his heart stop, that shook him to his core, was when you reciprocated it. When you told him you wanted him in your life too. You shared things you’d never told anybody else, told him your past, your desires, and your dreams, and he knew that he’d do anything to make sure you saw them realized. A promise, one to find enough treasure to ‘buy’ you. To pay your debt to the man who held your fate, to take you away from such a life. But he’d been too late, you couldn’t take it after that night with him. 

     Pretending that you enjoyed the company of other men, giggling at dumb jokes and ‘enjoying’ fine food and drink sitting next to men who weren’t Ace. It didn’t matter how rich or good looking they were, you only wanted Ace. So you ran away. In the dead of the night, you gathered all your most precious belongings, every cent you could carry, everything of worth, and disappeared into the night. When Ace had asked about you, stating that he wanted to pay your debt, to ‘buy’ you, the man had merely scoffed, saying that you had run and despite his best efforts, he hadn’t found you, that you still owed him so much money. Ace had paid your debt to the man, whether or not you were there. Should the man ever stumble across you again, you could still be free. Eventually, he’d learned that you’d escaped Wano, somehow managing to break the biggest law of the strange land and escaping to sea.

     From that day, he searched for you. He never told anybody, never said a word, made it seem like he was simply living his life, but any time he was at an island, his eyes were searching the crowds for your familiar form. The man was certain he could never forget the shape of your body, the color of your hair, or your scent; not the scent of the perfume that you had been forced to wear as an oiran, but your natural scent lingering just beneath that. Every detail was carved into the backs of his eyelids, teasing him each time he closed his eyes with your beautiful smile. Your real smile. Not the one you had given him upon first being introduced to that night’s company, but the smile you gave him the next morning as you placed a soft kiss to his lips. Only a few people knew of his secret, of his love. Deuce, his first mate, his friend, his second-in-command. Whitebeard, his captain, his adopted father, the man who accepted him for him. And Izou, the Wano man had been by accident. He’d wanted to learn how to make your favorite so that if he ever found you, he could make it for you. Except the man wasn’t dumb, he noticed the concentration on Ace’s face as he worked to perfect the food, noticed the soft smile when Ace thought about when he’d first tried the food, saw the pain when asked about why it was so important. He’d confronted Ace about it, smiling as he listened to Ace’s tale about the beautiful oiran who’d stolen his heart. Izou kept an eye out for any Wanoan women after that, he never said anything, but as a favor to his friend, fellow commander, and brother-in-arms, he always kept an eye out as well. 

     Sighing, Ace leaned back in his chair, taking a large gulp from his mug. Pops was docked at another island to restock, giving his men shore leave once they were properly restocked, allowing his sons to enjoy themselves, whether it be in food, drink, or women. Women, ha! No woman would ever compare to you, to the beautiful tennyo who’d stolen his heart. He chuckled to himself at the thought, tennyo, so many things you’d taught him in his short time with you. He missed you so much right now, missed the strange terms of endearment you used for him, so strange to him, but never failed to make his heart skip a beat. 

     Ace’s brow furrowed as he took his feet off the table to sit up straight. His ears strained to catch the voice that had caught his attention just a moment ago. The accent, the lilt, it rang so familiarly in his head. Looking around, he only saw the familiar faces, tattoos, and clothing of the crew. His division knocking back drinks as they laughed, a few Whitebeard nurses dispersed amongst them. Still, his eyes scanned the crowd frantically, searching for the familiar face that filled his dreams. Finally, it landed on one of the nurses. Ace didn’t know all of the nurses that tended to Pops, the man’s deteriorating health requiring near constant care. Yet this one, he was certain, or almost certain. 

     Swallowing hard, he mentally shouted for the nurse to turn around fully, to give him a proper view of her, rather than just the small glances at her. Finally, she turned, looking to one of the other nurses, stopping Ace’s heart. Your hair was different and the layers of make-up were gone and the kimono replaced with a pink dress, but he was sure it was you. The young man almost shot up in his seat, wanting to run over to you and pull you close, to bury his head into the crook of your neck, hesitating when a thought hit him. Would you even recognize him? You might be forever engraved in his mind, but was he similarly engraved in yours? It had been a few years ago and it had only been a couple of nights together. Did he mean as much to you as you had meant to him? How would he even talk to you, how would he strike a conversation? ‘Hey, this sounds crazy, but I spent a passionate night with you a few years ago. Wanna go have dinner with me?’ No, absolutely not! He’d sound deranged! There was no way you’d recognize him after all this time. You’d been an oiran, he was probably just another paying man spending a night with you, getting too caught up in your act. To you, he must have just been an overly passionate man who was drawn into the fake little world you created for all your customers. Slouching into his chair, he stared at you in longing, he wanted so badly to go over to you, to pick you up and spin you around, to pull you into the most mind blowing kiss, but he couldn’t risk freaking you out. 

     You’d heard tales of the new second division commander, but had yet to find the time to go see him yourself. Whitebeard’s health took priority and the other nurses had come to rely on you a great deal, leaving you with little time to yourself. On top of your work as a nurse, you were kept busy with a million other things. The young man from years prior always lingered in your mind, his smile like the sun seared into your mind, as if forever branding your mind, heart, and soul as his. Freckles that dotted his cheeks like the stars in the sky, making you think of him every night when you stared up at the twinkling lights, he burned so brightly, as if he were made of sunshine and stardust. During the few daylight hours in which you weren’t caring for Whitebeard, your thoughts were taken up by this man. His voice and name still rang in your ears late at night when things were quiet and still. Ace. Portgas D. Ace. Still, you were on shore leave and the other nurses, as thanks for always taking their shifts, had given you the night off, you’d earned it. So you’d come here, hearing that the second division, and its commander, was here. So far, you’d yet to spot the young man who’d caused such a stir. Talking with one of the second division men, a flit of bright orange caught your eye. Turning, you noticed a familiar orange hat being pressed down on a lowered head before the owner stood up to head out of the bar. 

     “Who’s that?” You asked, pointing to the young man who’s back was turned to you. Despite the tattoo that covered a good portion of his back, you were almost certain you recognized his form. How could you forget that physique, the back that had sported the evidence of your night together in the form of long red scratches, the shoulders that you’d held so tightly, as if your life depended on it. 

     “Hm? Oh, right! You haven’t met the new division commander have you? That’s him, FireFist Ace! Kid’s crazy, but he’s strong.” the man you’d been talking to said with a grin, proud of his new commander. You smiled as you watched him leave, Ace, you’d finally found him.