#this post got WAY out of hand but I hope it helps

[dxckgrxsonx]

Between his Teeth

Pairing - Jason Todd x (F) Reader Words - 2.1k Warnings - SMUT 18+ - Explicit Sexual Content - Biting Biting BITING!! - Lil mention of choking - Unprotected Sex - Multiple Orgasms - (F) Receiving Oral - Possessive!Jason - Overstimulation - Swearing - Crying - Dirty Talk - Fluff at the End :) Notes: Happy New Year! it’s been awhile since i've posted anything of a decent length so um?? hi?? Not sure how im feeling about the quality of this but inspiration struck and here we are! i hope you enjoy <3

MASTERLIST

**

Here's the thing: there are nights in Gotham where patrol slows down. It's not a regular occurrence, something more akin to an irregularity really–but it happens. And when it does you're faced with an interesting quirk, a personality trait most would consider concerning.

Or dangerous.

Jason Todd gets bored.

His baseline as standard is marked unnatural. The death of a child recognised and reversed. Murdered soul poured back into what feels like a brand new unmarked body–everything once recognizable to him lost by a pool of Lazarus green. A pool on some nights he can still taste like bile in the back of his throat.

Patrol slows down and Jason finds himself molar deep in something terrifyingly restless.

Sometimes, the fight never materialises and Jason, who's been fighting across two different lifetimes, doesn't quite know how to react in the face of it. There's always been a cathartic edge to combat, a catch and release that leaves him breathless and exhilarated all at once. Adrenaline is one hell of a defence mechanism, swells right up to the top of his head, and if there's no decompression at the end of it his skin buzzes, eyes glowing bright and haloed in Lazarus green.

And so when patrol gets slow, Jason seeks out the brilliance of release by fucking you absolutely stupid.

**

He’s got two stupidly talented hands and they’re touching you everywhere.

The base of your spine, the shivering curve of your waist, two fingers hooked into your smart mouth to wrench every little sound out of your chest. His cock is thick and heavy and every thrust into your spasming cunt burns like he’s tearing you open.

“Fucking Christ–” A heaving, half delirious whine vibrates against his fingers like a phantom echo of your voice and Jason grins when your eyes roll into the back of your skull. He grins because taking you to pieces like this is the absolute best, most unbelievably satisfying way to burn through the frightening magnitude of energy stirring in his veins. “Ugh shit! Are you coming again? You greedy little thing.”

He can feel you squeezing at his cock, your pussy clenched up so tight it’s almost like fucking his own goddamn fist.

Jason pulls his fingers from your mouth–the digits now dripping in spit–and curls them oh so sweetly around your throat. He tightens his grip, forces you to work for your breath and the drag of air under his palm forces blood to swell up to Jason's head.

He watches you carefully, catalogues the curve of your mouth, the way your eyes roll into the back of your skull, the bliss and trust you tuck under his skin.

Fingers flex tighter and your mouth moves but instead of words, he gets a low, drawn out moan.

“Of course you are. You just can’t help it, can you?” He pulls his hand up and away from your throat, grabs firmly at your chin, and you jolt like a live wire, eyelids fluttering, thighs shaking horribly around his hips. Pressing forwards, Jason grunts at how wet you are, the base of his cock ringed in your creamy arousal. “You can take it though. You will take it. Just for me, because you’re such a good girl.”

A broken noise drags up your throat and Jason gets the flaring urge to have something–fucking anything–between his teeth.

It's not the first time he's looked at you and clamped his jaw around the desire to mark you. The possessive flicker igniting something of near biblical proportion in his veins. You're something wonderful. A person he adores beyond measure.

There's times you look at him like he's everything and it makes him feel brand new, born into a universe where home is nothing but you and your two hands that have never once hurt him.

He thinks the urge comes from that, comes from the desperation of wanting to broadcast you as his, of never wanting to be apart.

Your head tips back, throat bare, and Jason doesn’t hesitate–not even for one single second–a feral sort of thing bubbling up from the bottom of his spine.

He bites you.

He bites you so hard your vision collapses in on itself, existence bursting into a kaleidoscope of colour.

Jason sinks his teeth into the sensitive skin above your pulse point and you choke as if he’s slipped a knife underneath your rib to steal your breath. You choke and you clench up so tight around his cock he can’t fucking move.

Your knees draw up in a desperate attempt to wedge between you, back arching into the bed. You twist your hips against his weight and you grab at his shoulders, his hair, nails scratching a long line down his back, but Jason simply renders you immobile, reminds you he’s buried balls deep in your pussy and has no intention of being anywhere else.

It’s not quite pain, but it’s a blunt sort of thing at the very edge of the scale and blood rushes up under your skin to greet each indent left behind. The sting of it detonates something permanent in your psyche, life unmoored between his teeth.

Jason pulls back and he licks at his teeth, there’s no blood, but the action alone makes you swelter nonetheless. You think it might be the look on his face, the flicker of something promising devastation in his eyes.

“Fuck you.” It’s your own voice, breathless, trapped between aggravation and arousal. “How am I supposed to cover that up?”

Jason drags his fingers down to your cunt and rubs at your fat, swollen clit. Every thought fractures apart in your mouth, vowels and consonants splintering into pieces that dissolve on your tongue. You know that’s what he wanted. You don’t care.

“You’re mine.” Jason says, like that in itself is an explanation. “You’re mine and no one else’s.”

The bite mark on your throat looks brutal even to his own eyes. A perfect match to every tooth in his mouth. Your skin is starting to puff up a little, irritation blossoming into a wicked bruise. Jason hums–mostly to himself–and fucks into you hard enough that there’s an obscene squelch of your pussy every time he bottoms out.

You’re perfect. You’re his. He wants you to come again.

“I can’t. Ah fuck! Not again–” The pitch of your voice climbs when his pace fails to falter, sticky fingers still strumming at your clit. He can feel it throbbing despite you coming twice already, and he wonders how many he can get out of you this time. “Jason–I don’t think…I can’t.”

“That’s it, empty that pretty little head of yours. You don’t need to think, y’just need to keep squeezing that sweet cunt around my cock, yeah? You’re so wet for me, and you know what that means?”

A sobs works free from your mouth, thighs clenching tight around his strong hips, each thrust into your peach flesh cunt makes Jason feel like he’s bursting out of his own skin. You close your eyes in the face of pure, overwhelming pleasure and he can see how wet your lashes are.

“Ugh–no don’t–” A whimper hooks into the back of your throat. “Don’t fucking say it.”

Jason grins, half wicked, even though he knows you can’t see it, “It means you like this, little bird. You might complain and try to get away, but your pretty little pussy can’t lie to me.” Your face screws up. Jason fucks you harder, his thick thighs smacking against your ass. He pauses his movements on your clit and listens to the pitch of your whine wobble in disappointment. “You want to come again, don’t you? Hm. No. You need to come again.”

“Nooo.” You try, embarrassment flustering up your neck. “I can’t. Please. S’too much.”

Your eyes blink open and Jason thinks it’s so sweet when you’re on the verge of tears whilst he’s fucking you. Your hands reach out to grab his shoulders, to search for comfort, and you cry out his name when he touches your poor, oversensitive clit. Jason licks at the mark on your throat, his tongue catching against the swell of your near broken skin and your cunt tries to force him out.

"Let me fuck your pussy, sweetheart. Don't push me out like that."

Another desperate cry when he forces your pussy to yield to his powerful thrusts and you suddenly gush around his cock. Wetness soaks his thighs and Jason huffs in amusement when he hears you heave in a strangled breath, then sob, tears streaming down your face.

You’ve never done that before.

By the time he’s finished–by the time he’s worked through the insistent pulse of pure restlessness and settled back into what he considers a post patrol, or postcoital haze–he thinks he’ll make you do that once more at least.

**

Jason quietly appears behind you the next afternoon as you glance in the mirror, gentle fingers probing at the huge mark splattered on your neck.

His approach is eclipsed by silence and you’re struck with the awe of how quiet he can be when he wants to. The talent and skill that must go into knowing how to plant yourself so no sound escapes your trajectory, it’s staggering, and slightly alarming.

You can easily trace the outline of Jason’s bite and there’s a heavy sort of discomfort when you touch it; the sensation of pressing on a bruise in the early stages of healing, not painful but heavy and aching, impossible to ignore.

The corner of Jason’s mouth twitches upwards when your face flickers into a slight flinch, almost like he wants to smile in a self-satisfied sort of way–how typical of him to find satisfaction in something that has you labelled as owned (loved) but you meet his reflection in the mirror and settle on a half-hearted scowl.

“You’re a real dick, Todd. You know that?”

Tugging the neckline of your hoodie up, you just barely manage to cover the mark.

“It’s hard to take you seriously when you’re not wearing pants.” Jason points out, redirecting the conversation by eyeing you appreciatively. “And I don’t remember you complaining about it last night.”

Memory sparks-your own desperate, fucked out voice flaring to the forefront-and you feel heat splash up your throat.

Ducking your head to avoid Jason's stare seems like a good idea, but you know with absolute certainty that he'll request you look at him regardless–he might even press a finger under your chin to tilt your head up–all because he wants to watch you fumble over your words like an idiot.

“Yeah, uh–that’s because you fucked me stupid.” He grins wolfishly at that, then his eyes flash with either an idea, or interest. Both of which are dangerous. “Whatever you’re thinking of doing…don’t.”

Smoothing his hands from your waist, down to your hips, then the curve of your ass, Jason drops to his knees behind you. Your stomach swoops, the beat of your heart slipping temporarily out of rhythm. He hums thoughtfully and presses a kiss to the small of your back, then tugs your underwear to the side so one cheek is bare.

Confusion kicks up in your head, brain following one thread whilst Jason in typical fashion follows his own, “You've already eaten me out at least once today, for the love of fuck give me a break. Aren't you tired of eating me out?”

Jason positively growls.

"Don't ask me stupid questions." He grumbles, his tone nothing but a hard edge. "I'll never get tired of tasting your pretty cunt."

You figured that out already. Waking with his head between your thighs, talented tongue lapping at your swelling clit until you sigh his name so prettily, falling apart as he holds you open by sheer force. Reminded again when you settle down for lunch in the kitchen and Jason sits you on the counter so he can nose at your slit, mouth wrapping around your sensitive clit and sucking until you cry.

Sometimes he might as well be dating your pussy and not you.

You feel the warmth of his breath for a single, shining moment, "Then what the hell are you doin–"

He bites you.

On your goddamn ass cheek.

“There. Now you can’t complain because the only person who’s going to see that is me.”

Spinning around in retaliation you glance down and level Jason with a glaringly unimpressed look, “Yeah, congratulations. But you’ve failed to consider one very important thing.”

“No I haven't." He scoffs, rolling his eyes. "What else is there to consider?”

“How the fuck am I supposed to sit down?”

**

[lady-of-endless]

Seong Gi-hun (player 456) x player!reaader headcanons (season 2)

Author's Note: I woke up with notes on my other Gi-hun post and watched season 2, got hooked again, and decided to write this. I hope you'll enjoy it! Click here for a masterlist because there's more to come.

- The innocence from the first game is lost once and for all. He's unintentionally less approachable now, always stoic, always tense. After the first game, some thought he was either crazy or suspicious. Your gratitude for his help during the first game surpassed any way you pictured him before. So you decide to keep an eye on him.

- Gi-hun is too focused on the game system and guards to notice you studying him from time to time. He's both amazed and worried about how different the players are from the first time he was there. But if there's one thing that remains the same, it's the sudden greed when the prize is getting higher with each elimination.

- But he doesn't see that in you. After the first game, you understood the gravity of the situation and forgot about the money. The moment the piggy fills with money and everyone is in awe except for him, you look around and your eyes lock with his. He finally notices you then and there. Why? Because you're the only one not looking at the money anymore.

- The second time he will notice you is when you won't eat well because of all the stress and shock. Gi-Hun silently approaches you, sits next to you, and calmly explains how you must eat to have energy for the next game. Despite his stoic tone, you can see worry in his eyes.

- During one night, when he is the only one awake to watch around, you join him in silence. That's when you start opening up to him more. He wasn't expecting it at all.

- He will never judge your reasoning for entering this wicked game. Gi-hun will just listen and try to show understanding.

- Since then, you stayed close to him. He didn't mind it at all. Plus, his mind was already busy with plans and possibilities to save as many as he could.

- You'd think that he might've developed trust issues but his heart didn't allow that. Not when he got attached so fast. You were always there to support him or help him find the right words to convince other players to stop the game from continuing. Slowly, you become something like his confidant even if he forced himself to be cautious around other players.

- When he opens up to you, he opens up about his experience first. He's done it before, telling people what he went through with this damned game but no one asked him how he feels after everything, except for you. He's stunned. It feels like you somehow made your way inside and he's powerless, he can't do anything about it,

- His hands twitch and his body tenses every time you risk getting hurt. He's not even aware of how ready he is to rush to you and help if you need it. But the others are aware. Some will notice how you two simply gravitate closer to each other. Watch out for a jealous-looking Hwang In-ho (player 001).

- Seon-Nyeo (player 044) talked to you two about how you are doomed because of a curse and other scary spiritual details, the way she does with everyone. Gi-hun was unfazed but his eyes softened when he saw you a little bit worried and disturbed. He comforted you, put a hand on your shoulder, and gave it a reassuring squeeze with a half smile (it's still hard for him to smile again, but he'll do it for you).

- He promises you that he'll get you safe out of there, every day and every night.

- Whatever you two will have, he will insist on being kept secret so you won't be in any additional danger because of him.

[airaatsu]

can you write fluff for thanos x reader?

«—Thanos/Choi Su-bong x Reader—»

Summary: You're anxious and nervous. Close to having a panic attack— but thankfully Thanos is there to help you stay calm. (Thanos kinda has a soft spot for reader?)

A/N: Another rushed fic! Hope you guys would like this one🫶 it's literally midnight here, this'll be my last fic for the day. Can't say I'll post tomorrow though, I'll be busy😓 but I'll try¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

Warnings: None♡

Meeting Su-bong or, well, Thanos, as he liked to be called wasn't all that bad as people made it out to be. He didn't seem to be brash and rude and loud. Well, at least not to you.

When one of the games ended, one where so many of the players died, got eliminated, you were in a state of shock. You thought you could get used to people dying around you after your first game, but you just couldn't... And here you were, in your bunk bed, hugging your legs against your chest. Rocking yourself back and forth, taking slow deep breaths. Trying to calm yourself before the chances of you going into a panic attack rises.

You didn't even notice Thanos approaching your bunk bed until he sat down beside you. His other friend wasn't with him, which was surprising to say the least.

"Hey, señorita." He placed an arm over your shoulder, making himself comfortable in your bunk bed with you. He seemed to observe you for a while with that same smile he always had on. "What's wrong princess? Something bothering ya?" He asked, tilting his head slightly to the side.

"No, nothing's wrong. Thanks for caring though." You replied, resting your head against the metal bars of the bunk bed. "I noticed you've been trying to calm yourself down since earlier by the way you're acting." He shared, fishing out his cross necklace from under his shirt. "You can have some—" "No! I don't want your drugs, Su-bong. I've told you that already." You cut him off, a small frown forming on your face. "Woah, alright, alright." He closed his necklace and hid them back under his shirt. "Calm down, not like I'm forcing ya or anything." He sighed, scooting a bit closer to you.

He gently guides your head to rest on his shoulder, leaning back on the black metal bars of the bunk bed."Hey, it's alright," He whispered, running a gentle hand through your hair. "You can take a nap, hm? I'll be right here. I'll wake you up once the guards are givin' out dinner." His tone was soft, gentle. It made you curious why you were being treated so differently by Thanos. But you didn't complain. You liked having him as a friend..

You took another deep breath, letting your head rest on his shoulder. You closed your eyes, you could already feel yourself calming down. Thanks to Thanos. By the time you know it, you were already drifting to sleep. With Thanos' arm wrapped around you, making you feel safe. It was odd, how you'd feel safe with a person like him, but you don't mind it...

.

.

.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

[bettys-redwinesupernova]

I GET YOU

rafe cameron x fem!reader

( moodboard does NOT depict readers appearance !! )

WARNINGS: none? i can’t really think of anything, just pure fluff! soft!rafe :’) maybe the slightest mention of worrying about what others think/fear of being judged? lmk if i missed anything !!

SUMMARY: rafe and weird!reader are one of the strangest couples in the obx. nobody has any clue how the cunning and cruel rafe cameron is dating the epitome of sunshine. but rafe just gets her, and she just gets him🫶

based on this ask !! i hope you enjoy 🍮🍒 anon, and i hope it was what you asked for, and i added in that the reader makes jewellery and collects sonny’s angels :) and sorry for the late post !! <3

WORD COUNT: 1.1k

THIRD PERSON +

The Outer Banks sun was blazing overhead as Y/N wandered down the streets of Kildare Island. The vibrant clinking of her many bracelets echoed softly in the quiet cul-de-sac as she adjusted her brightly colored tote bag over her shoulder. It was filled to the brim with craft supplies—beads of every color, rolls of thread, and the newest addition to her collection: two tiny Sonny’s Angels figurines she’d found at a small thrift shop on the mainland.

She was a walking burst of color. Her patchwork denim jeans were covered in hand-sewn floral patterns, her lime-green tank top layered over a long-sleeved baby tee, and her hair was adorned with barrette clips in the shape of stars and hearts. The contrast between her aesthetic and the neutral, coastal tones of the OBX locals was stark. She stuck out like a sore thumb—and she didn’t care.

And Rafe Cameron loved her for it.

From his perch on the porch steps of Tannyhill, Rafe’s blue eyes tracked her approach, his lips quirking into a soft, almost amused smile. He watched as she practically skipped up the gravel driveway, clutching her tote bag like it held treasure.

“Rafey!” she called out, her voice a melodic lilt that never failed to make his chest ache in the best way. “Guess what I found!”

He chuckled, standing up and brushing off his khaki shorts. “What, another one of those creepy little baby dolls?”

She gasped in mock outrage, clutching her heart. “They’re not creepy! They’re little angels, and they’re adorable. Look!” She yanked the two figurines from her bag and held them up like prized possessions. One was dressed as a strawberry, the other as a little chef.

Rafe leaned down, squinting at the tiny figures in her hands. “Yeah, adorable is one way to put it,” he teased, but his grin betrayed his words.

“Don’t be mean,” she said, poking his chest lightly. Her rings sparkled in the sunlight as she did so. “You just don’t understand their charm.”

“I don’t,” he admitted with a shrug, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her into his chest. “But I understand you, and that’s enough for me.”

Her cheeks flushed at his words, and she buried her face in his chest. “You’re such a sap sometimes.”

“Only for you.”

The two of them stood like that for a moment, swaying slightly in the breeze. The Cameron estate was quiet; Ward and Rose were off on one of their trips, and Sarah was, well, doing whatever Sarah did these days. It left Rafe and Y/N in a little bubble of their own, untouched by the world’s judgments.

“You wanna help me make something?” Y/N asked, pulling back slightly to look up at him.

“Make what?”

“A bracelet!” She stepped out of his arms, already rummaging through her bag. “I got these new beads, and I think they’d look great with your eyes.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow. “You wanna make me a bracelet?”

“Why not?” she said, grinning. “It’s not like you’re gonna wear it in public or anything. Unless…” Her grin turned mischievous.

“Don’t even think about it,” he warned, though his tone was light.

She giggled, plopping down on the porch steps and spreading her supplies out like an artist preparing her canvas. Rafe followed, sitting beside her and watching as her nimble fingers worked to thread beads onto a piece of elastic.

“Why do you do this?” he asked after a while, his voice soft.

“Do what?”

“This.” He gestured to her array of beads, figurines, and tiny tools. “All of it. The bright clothes, the crafts… you’re not exactly like anyone else around here.”

She paused, looking up at him with a small smile. “Because it makes me happy,” she said simply. “I like colours. I like making things. It’s who I am.”

Rafe nodded, taking her answer in stride. He’d always admired her confidence in being herself, even when people whispered about her behind her back or shot her strange looks in town. It was a level of self-assuredness he wasn’t sure he’d ever reach.

“You know,” she said after a moment, stringing a star-shaped bead onto the bracelet, “a lot of people think it’s weird that we’re together.”

“They’re idiots.”

She laughed, a light, airy sound that made his heart swell. “I know that. But still… you’re Rafe Cameron. People expect you to date, like, the cheerleader type. Not someone who spends their weekends thrifting for doll clothes.”

He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. His touch was gentle, his fingers brushing against the plastic barrette clipped in her hair. “Let them think what they want,” he said firmly. “You make me happy. That’s all that matters.”

Her smile widened, and she leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. “You’re too good to me, Rafe Cameron.”

“Damn right I am,” he said with a smirk, though the teasing edge in his voice was softened by the way he gazed at her like she hung the stars in the sky.

She finished the bracelet a few minutes later, tying it off and holding it up for inspection. It was a mix of blue and white beads, with a single star charm in the center. “What do you think?”

“It’s perfect,” he said, letting her slide it onto his wrist. The contrast between the delicate bracelet and his rugged, calloused hands was almost laughable, but he wore it with pride.

“You look so cute,” she cooed, taking his hand in hers to admire her handiwork.

“Don’t push it,” he said, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward.

She leaned her head on his shoulder, her eyes drifting to the horizon where the sun was beginning to set. “You know, I used to think no one would ever get me,” she admitted quietly. “Like, really get me.”

Rafe turned his head to look at her, his expression softening. “I get you,” he said simply.

She smiled, tilting her head up to kiss him softly. “Yeah,” she whispered against his lips. “You do.”

The world around them seemed to fade away as they sat together on the porch steps, wrapped in their own little universe. It didn’t matter what the rest of the Outer Banks thought of them. They had each other, and that was more than enough.

For the first time in a long time, Rafe Cameron felt like he could be himself. And for Y/N, that was the greatest gift of all.

betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

this was so so cute and so much fun to write !! i LOVE weird girl!reader soooo much and this was just the CUTEST🥹 i really hope this was what you wanted 🍮🍒 anon and i hope i got the aesthetics correct :) as always, please like and reblog as it means the WORLD to me <333

[yaniluvs]

lingering touches and stolen kisses 日 ── ot8 [maknae line] skz ; how is pda with your boyfriend?

click to be directed to the hyung-line version !!

𓍯 maknae-line idol!skz ʚଓ fem!reader ：（ 𝒾 ）0.7k ── ༯ HEADCANONS, tooth rotting fluff, kisses, hugs, established relationship, req. by anon . ⸝⸝𓂃 LiBRARY. /ᐠ.ꞈ.ᐟ\ྀིྀི

yani's note ˖˙ ᰋ maknae line ver. !! as we are iii is in works and might be posted by today >< thanks to anon for the request, hope you like it! comments, requests, asks, likes and reblogs are always appreciated ! comment/ask if you want to be added to my mastertag ! happy reading <3

jisung ୨୧ this man dgaf. honestly, if anything, he's going to be yapping to you 24-7. belting random love songs while in the dressing room, for you. wants to be holding your hand, definitely.. (see what i did there?) giving you a lot of pecks. mostly on your lips or chin. idk why, i just feel like he'd do that. randomly starts spinning you and laughing in between practices. desperate of your attention. during lunch breaks, he definitely wants to feed you a bit, even with you complaining. the jeekies being so full of food, random winks thrown at your direction with dramatic flying kisses; no matter the complaints shot by his members, and a certain glare by a certain someone. i'd say not even two minutes later he's being chased minho.

felix ୨୧ my baby !!!!! he's definitely a little shy because of the constant teasing of his members. i feel like he'd also not only love holding your hand like all the others, but also be comparing the sizes of your palms, his being tiny but still bigger than your tinier ones, both wearing the couple rings he bought for you two. he'd also be absentmindedly tracing shapes, and anything on your skin, tickling you a bit. he loves to see you giggle or laugh, joining you. he's stay really close to you, when you're counting his freckles. he's so giving you pecks all over your face, and even little head pats. he's absolutely adorable and a bigggggg cuddle bear >< (you saw it coming.) loves loves loves having you on his lap ! you cannot prove me wrong; it can be when you're alone, or with the members; sometimes during breaks between his practice, or when he's in the dorm, trying to go back to silver from bronze, with the rest of the younger maknae line (seungmo, iyen). with the controller in his hands, arms circling around your waist, trapping you as you watched them play, possible trying to count the freckles on his face when you're distracted by him. it doesn't matter, he neeeedssss you close !!

seungmin ୨୧ a literal menacing pup of a boyfriend. he'll be treating you more like a kid than a girlfriend. playing soooo hard to get even if you're in a relationship for a year (it's normal !! he loves pushing your buttons. but there definitely is a very soft side of him.) / being nonchalant, as if he's not tempted to keep you on his lap every single minute. holding hands. he will not be very loud about it, but he will keep it subtle and cutesy. caressing your thumb. caressing your cheek when you lean in too close. heating up like a cherry when you give him a peck, shocking him; he's embarrassed asf. the member's presence is not helping. he will not admit it but he clearly is flustered and wants more of the kisses. but usually won't initiate it in public. feel like subtle grips on your waist or thigh; protectively. some days, he'll be initiating hugs in public though. keeping you close, in a louder way, ykwim? probably also likes braiding your hair or putting it in a bun (and almost failing to do so), when your hair is down or he's just bored.

jeongin ୨୧ he's as red as a tomato, at first though !! the hyungs just can't believe seeing their maknae having a lover; they do love you; but they love love love teasing the hell out of him. though it grows on him. at first, he used to only hold you close or give brief cheek-pecks, but as you both got used to it, he doesn't mind it anymore but he's not as loud as in private. it's not a big deal, he's just very private about his love life !! when with the members, he's comfortable. back-hugs, forehead kisses, tiny pecks, holding hands, all of that. very protective though. needs you around him at all times. he'd also be having have an arm around your shoulders !! if you're cold, either wrapping his arms around you works or draping his jacket on your shoulders does too.

mastertag ୨୧ @cosmicalily

[that-student-that-has-homework]

Pulse - Portgas D. Ace

Portgas D. Ace x Reader

CW: trauma, mentions of death, and slightly suggestive teasing, kinda proofread? I got tired :/ | wc: 15,671 🫠 SPOILERS: Amazon Lily / Marineford / Post Marineford Y'all can thank @captainportgasdace for this. as agreed upon previously, @silentgravesdontexist you're tagged for this piece MasterList (linked at bottom too)

There had always been a somewhat wistful quality to Ace.

It wasn’t always apparent, but it was there, lurking, much like the many sea kings of the Calm Belt. The Calm Belt…you huffed a little, you could liken Ace to that stretch of sea - so much lurking beneath the surface. 

If you looked at him hard enough you’d be able to see the large shadows swimming not too far away. Though today, or rather, following the first anniversary of his very close call with death, the summit war, you couldn’t help but feel those shadows had migrated closer to the surface. Large, dark, intimidating - moments from attacking.

That needn’t be a bad thing. Maybe you could finally take them down. Maybe he’d even let you help.

Or so you hoped.

No mind. You had patience to spare. Especially when it involved your loved ones.

You studied your dear friend from afar, starting from his head - his hair had grown longer over the course of the year or so he’d been recuperating for. A trim was in order - if only to remove the bottoms and promote healthy hair growth. Regardless of your skill with scissors, he’d probably let you trim it for him if you asked him to. Anywho, he sat cross-legged on the sand, his shoulders hunched slightly forward as he hugged his knees. Your eyes were immediately pulled down to the marred skin of his back.

Where his back was once crowned with the mark of the strongest man on the seas, there was now an empty patch of scarred skin: a testament to the void left by the loss of a father. It was still the same back though. The same back that had stood between you and adversaries unthinkingly: raising both morale and wrapping you in security. It was the same back, just…missing a little something.

You couldn’t help the way the sand crunched under your feet, still you tried your best not to disturb his reverie. He did little more than glance over to confirm you weren’t a threat, before silently turning his gaze back to the sea that he would no doubt be taking to soon enough. He would be much like a child returning to the embrace of his parents in a sense…as he was “a child of the sea.”

There really had always been a somewhat wistful quality to Ace.

You had to tear your eyes away from him. Quite the feat when the sun was starting to set, casting a golden glow upon your friend - who was already beautiful enough under the dingy lights of pirate ship cabins, let alone during this golden hour. You knew well enough that you’d give yourself away if you kept staring at him. While it wasn’t wise to wait, you also knew that confessing to a person in the midst of grief was insensitive. And, you had patience to spare. Especially when it involved your loved ones.

You instead took a moment to trace his line of sight, attempting to follow it with your own gaze. You soon took a seat beside him, sitting cross-legged much like he was, only that you opted to hold your hands within your lap, rather than hug your knees.

It had been a while since you’d both come to this island after all that had happened. While walks on the beach were regular, and you did leave the house, it had been a while since you’d really taken the time to admire the vastness of the water. It had been a while since you’d really focused on the way the breeze felt as it tousled your hair tenderly. It had been a while since you’d really dug your feet into the sand and enjoyed the little poking sensations of the sand under your toes.

“Y’think I can get my back tattooed again?” 

You blinked yourself back from your thoughts, turning to look at the man to your side, his brows furrowed as he continued to look out to the sea. In the time it took you to process his question and consider how to respond, he’d already found his answer: “I can’t, can I?”

“I think it would be better not to,” you agreed nodding slowly, “were you considering getting another back tattoo?”

His grip on his arms tightened as he hugged himself tighter, gaze finally moving away from the sea, falling onto the sand instead, taking your heart with it. You leaned back to study his back once again, contemplating.

“There’s always your lower back,” you rocked forward to try and capture his attention, “or your butt.”

The incredulous look he gave you had your eyes crinkling in mirth. Though you did find yourself looking away soon enough, your embarrassment catching up to you. It went down a little bit-kind of…when you heard him give a quiet, but amused chuckle, “nah my butt won’t work!”

You glanced his way, and the instant that he recognized you were looking at him, he continued, “unless you’re suggesting I go around with my ass cheeks out.”

“Ace!” You groaned, your hands immediately going to cover your face, your whole body hunching forward in embarrassment as he erupted into boisterous laughter.

After a moment, and through the scalding heat of your cheeks, you asked, “would you wear a shirt to compensate for having your bottom half exposed?”

When you heard him hum, you braved a peek through your fingers to see his brows raised into a thoughtful expression, brown eyes reflecting the warm pinks and oranges of the sunset. You looked away the moment his eyes met yours, cheeks burning yet again.

“Y’know what?” You looked up again, and he grinned, teeth glistening in the light as he answered you. “Nope! I wouldn’t.”

When you hid your face all over again, you were entreated to even more of his beloved hearty laughter. You could feel the way his shoulders shook beside you, despite not being in contact. Your pride battled against your satisfaction trying to force you to be upset even though you’d invited this kind of teasing, and enjoyed the effect it was having on him.

Though laughter right now was mostly just an anesthesia: it numbs things, but doesn’t really address the cause.

When his laughter died down, he let out a long breath, “I remember pops had it on his back.”

You turned to look at him again, he was more relaxed now, one arm resting on a bent knee, the other behind him as a support with his other leg stretched out in front of him. Looking down at his chest, he placed a hand on it, “guess my chest wouldn’t be a good idea either.”

At his suggestion you found yourself staring at the terrifying mark marring his front. You gulped, seeing the crimson of the past. The crimson that had finally become a warm peach. A warm peach that rose and fell rhythmically with the breaths he took. A closed, covered, mostly healed warm peach.

“Hey! Hey! Breathe!” He poked at you.

You shook your head, blinked violently, and took in a deep gulp of air. Snapping your eyes to his face you were treated to his raised brow and remorsefully awkward grin. You pursed your lips petulantly. Looking away you answered, “I think we should avoid,” you paused, “tender areas.”

“Tender, huh?” He looked back at the great blue.

“I’m so grateful you’re still here,” you let it slip out as you too looked out at the sea.

He chuckled humorlessly, “you say that a lot.”

“It’s because I am,” you stood firmly by your opinion.

“I must’ve given you a real scare,” you hated how guilty he sounded.

“Marco told you, didn’t he?” You mumbled, hugging your knees to your chest.

“Yeah, he told me you wouldn’t stop crying unless you fell asleep,” he huffed out, “something about you not eating well either too.”

“I’m so grateful you’re still here,” you reiterated, looking at him, taking him in.

“You already said that,” he raised a brow at you, a corner of his lips upturning slightly.

“Just let me count my blessings Ace,” you rested your head on your knees.

He didn’t respond, but you could hear him shift a bit beside you. Turning your head you saw that wistful quality of his resurface on his face, the pretty features relaxing once again. You pondered on what he’d said…

“Hey Ace,” you raised your head and he turned to look at you, “what if you got it tattooed on your pulse?”

“Huh?”

You raised your arm up to reveal your wrist, pointing to the area you mentioned, “it’s one of the places you can check for a heartbeat.”

He stared at you, the gears in his head turning, “it’s a little less obvious than your back, and much smaller,” you continued, “but it’s still readily visible,” you looked down, “and it’s got something to do with the heart too.”

He was in your space immediately, “that’s a great idea!” You looked up at him, his eyes glimmering pools of molten chocolate. “You’re so smart! Thanks!”

“Happy to help,” you smiled back at him, and he pulled back a little, staring at you for a moment too long - ah, “what’re you thinking about?”

Much like you had earlier, the pirate blinked himself back to attention with a shake of his head. He looked away for a moment, scratching at the back of his head, a sheepish smile taking his features as his eyes flickered back to you, “‘s nothin’.”

“Fair enough,” you shrugged, “I’ll help you find a tattoo artist and get the design down if you’d like.”

“You would?” He lit up some more, sparks of his old vigor reigniting.

“Of course.”

-_-

It hadn’t taken more than a week or two to find a tattoo artist on the island. There were a couple and Ace found himself liking the older lady artist more, so you went on over to her with Whitebeard’s jolly roger proudly etched on a paper. The fiery man had burst into full-bodied laughter at the offended scolding she’d given the two of you: of course she knew Whitebeard’s jolly roger! The…late…Emperor had come and established a sort of peace over their quaint little island a decade ago or so, even going so far as to chase off some thugs from her little shop.

The former division commander was grinning from ear to ear when the artist sang his father’s praises. She did not withhold any of her opinions about how manly and handsome he appeared to her either. There was a small prickling in the back of your eyes, but you managed to keep it together, especially as a warm hand came to rest its weight between your shoulder blades. Turning to Ace, you were greeted with an equally warm grin as he excitedly told you he had a great feeling about this lady.

Oh! And that you did an amazing job finding her, “leave it to you to find such great people!” He beamed. 

“I’m so grateful I found you too,” you stressed, returning his grin with a smile of your own. 

Your delightful buddy froze momentarily before coming back to his senses, “thank you.”

“I’m happy to help.”

“Not just for finding the lady.”

“No thanks needed.”

“Though if I remember things,” he thought aloud, “didn’t I find you?”

You rolled your eyes, “oh no, a very good person found me.”

He chuckled lightly at your sarcastic tone, before your attention was required by the tattoo artist.

She did a truly spectacular job with the tattoo, and even provided the ointment he’d need to help promote faster healing. Over the course of tattooing the young man she seemed to realize you’d probably remember the aftercare instructions better than he would. 

She wasn’t wrong about that.

Ace felt like his tattoo was mostly healed by the end of the following month. The old lady had mentioned that given the location, it would take a while to heal fully though, so…You were the one worrying most days. Especially as Ace began to make the necessary preparations to embark back out on the seas again - he was healed enough for it, per the instructions and information Marco had left you with. 

It was a great deal of fun though, working on building your small ship together, you were just constantly worried he’d scrape himself and get the tattoo infected or something. He often shrugged it off, reminding you that he was made of fire after all, and could avoid scratches.

“Ah yes,” you nodded, “you’re hot in the literal sense.”

He burst out laughing again. He did seem significantly more lively these days. Especially following the tattoo. Though you weren’t sure if he’d slain some of the beasts within, or if the shadows had simply chosen to recede from the surface.

You got a glimpse of the answer one night as the two of you sat in front of the fire he’d started up, staring at the tattoo on his wrist while waiting for the fish and veggies you’d caught and scavenged earlier to cook. Your dear friend’s wistful quality resurfaced from the unfathomable depths that made him up, though with a tinge of nostalgia this time. There was a very small, very deeply fond, uplift to the line of his mouth.

You marched over to his side, plopping yourself down beside him, a basket of fruit and a knife in hand. He looked up at you, eyes reflecting the warmth of the fire beside him…or perhaps the warmth of the fire within. He was always so warm.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” he grinned and you could feel the warmth of domesticity mix in with his naturally warm aura and creep up on you.

Looking back at the basket of fruits in your lap, you picked up a pineapple, “well a little snack before won’t completely ruin our appetites,” you were about to begin cutting into it when he took it out of your hands.

“Here, lemme show you a neat trick,” he proceeded to twist the top of the pineapple off, hit the bottom of it on his knee, and forcefully roll it between his hands, “now you can pull out each piece, no knife needed!” He grinned, pulled a piece out and handed it to you.

You took it, impressed with the new piece of information, “that is neat!”

Silences had become increasingly common between the two of you. Tonight was no different, the two of you sat side by side, snacking on a pineapple, he did have to hand it over to you to switch out fish and vegetable skewers. At which point you decided to poke at the corner of his mouth with a piece of the fruit and he opened to eat it  without thinking twice. Given how your relationship had transformed over the course of his healing period, this level of closeness had also become commonplace between you two.

It didn’t mean anything though. It could be likened to the way you’d feed any of your close friends. 

You were trying not to fault yourself for wanting something more though. It wasn’t as if this feeling was new. Ace always burned so bright, and was so warm-and you weren’t unique in these feelings. What was unique about you, was the situation you were afforded. Again: it didn’t feel right to burden him with your feelings while he was essentially fighting for his life in a whirlpool of turmoil trying to drown him.

“What’cha thinkin’ about there?” He asked as he passed you a skewer of cooked fish.

You shook your head. You were a coward. You’d think almost losing him would push you to reveal just how important he was to you. Verbally reveal it that is. 

“Don’t wanna talk about it?” He nodded, understanding as ever. “Got it.”

“So you’re going to be setting off soon huh?” You chose to change the topic.

He hummed, stoked the fire a bit, and paused. He turned to look at you, brow furrowed.

“I’m going to be setting off soon?” He reiterated, confused. “You’re not coming?”

“Would you want me to?” You looked at him. “I mean, I remember you were upset over me staying with you when you were relegated to bedrest.”

“That was because you had better things to do than take care of me,” he bit back.

“If I wasn’t actively caring for you I might have gone insane though,” you worked to remove the skin from the fish, “it helped me.”

“You,” he tore into his fish with an aggressive bite, chewing in frustration, “you have your own dreams and adventures, and you wasted a whole year here with me though, the least-”

“Time spent with you is never wasted,” you cut in, effectively stopping his mouth from moving, “time spent with you, is never time wasted,” you repeated again meeting his gaze as he stared at you.

He just continued staring at you, with nothing but the crackling of the fire and the soft rolling of the waves filling the space between you.

He remembered to finish chewing and swallow his food soon enough though, blinking himself back to reality as he did so and looking at the fire he confirmed, “you’re coming with me,” his tone was firm with his conviction, “we’re setting sail, together.”

“Okay,” you nodded, nibbling into your fish, “I’m glad.”

He muttered something, or perhaps he whispered it, the words were stolen away by the breeze before you could make out what he said though. “What is it?”

“I wouldn’t leave you here on this island by yourself,” he shook his head, “not after everything you’ve done for me.”

“I did all that because I wanted to,” you drilled into him, “you don’t owe me a thing.”

Your brow pinched, your displeasure making itself evident on your face, “if you’re just going to befriend me out of obligation and guilt,” it was your turn to bite into your fish aggressively, “then leave me here.”

“I never said that!” He shot back. “We were friends before all this, and I’d rather die than lose you.”

“Please don’t talk about dying,” it was a quick, breathless, desperate request.

“Sorry.”

You shook your head, “no no I’m sorry,” your appetite was vanishing rapidly, “what you went - what you’re probably still going through - is worse than,” you swallowed thickly, tears welling up, “than me just watching it happen.”

“Hey,” you tried to wipe away the tears, fish skewer still in hand, “hey, look at me,” you turned to face your dear one - his intensity entrapping you.

He took your skewer from your hand, stabbing it in the sand next to his own. His larger palm enveloped your own as he pulled the appendage towards his chest pressing it right above his heart. You found your face warming inordinately-and it wasn’t because of your proximity to the fire. You felt the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he took deep breath after deep breath, felt the rhythmic - kind of quick - pounding of his heart.

“I’m alive,” he reminded you, “I’m still here.”

You nodded, bottom lip trembling, “I’m so grateful you are.”

He opened his mouth, about to say something, then looked away with a huff. His brows pushed down on his eyes, “I want to take you off this island with me.”

You nodded at him, hand still held above his chest, where you could feel his heart rapidly pumping blood to the rest of him - intact. Alive.

“I want to leave this island together,” you agreed.

“Then it’s set!” He grinned, and released your hand leaving it to fall limply to your side as he grabbed the skewers and handed you yours again.

That was also when he remembered the food he was still cooking. Seems he’d almost burnt the remaining fish, but they were thankfully saved just in time.

-_- 

Ace clearly loved being at sea again.

It suited him so well. Surrounded by blue on all sides, blazing his own path - own course through the waters. 

A child of the sea come home. 

You could see it in the way light seemed to dance off of him every instant of the day: the ethereal glow of dawn upon his defined features, the halo that the afternoon sun drew on his head, the gleam of the sunset on his back, or even the twinkling of the stars in his eyes. You could see how at home he was out on the restless waters.

Perhaps he was so at home on the restless waters was because he could actually see the restlessness? Maybe that was why when the sea calmed, you would catch him glancing back at his newest tattoo from time to time.

One of the times, he’d been laying down on one of your small sailboat’s little benches, his head resting near your own, as you sat on the floor of the deck beside him. He raised his hand up, staring at his wrist under the blanket of stars in the sky. You couldn’t help but notice, looking away from one beauty to another.

You weren’t too sure what possessed you in that moment, but you reached out a finger and began to trace the iconic crossbones and mustache embedded within your dear friend’s skin. It was as your finger finished dragging along the mustache that he maneuvered his hand so that his fingers could clamp down upon yours.

The first time he’d done this (held your hand) after the…after the war, you’d both been gripping each other’s hands like you were both on the edge of a cliff, afraid the other would fall to their demise if you let go. Though the first time he’d gently held your hand, you’d startled and he’d let go soon after. Of course since then, you’ve held him and been held by him as the grief of it all washed over you in waves. 

So anyway, hand holding didn’t mean anything. 

His thumb pressed down on the vein in your wrist, making you more aware of how fast your heart was beating. It didn’t really mean anything though - what he was doing right now. 

No matter how much you wanted it to.

When he stopped pressing down on your pulse, choosing instead to rub circles into your skin, you turned to look at him and meet his gaze as he gave you yet another of those bright smiles, leaving the heat to crawl up your chest and squeeze it.

-_-

When you arrived at the island the pose was pointing to the following day, Ace once again took your hand - to help you disembark. You spent the day scouring the place for new information, trying out the local dishes (with Ace falling asleep mid bite), and taking in the local sites. It involved a lot of you being dragged from corner to corner, your hand clutched firmly within his own as he led you around. By the time the evening fell, you both found yourselves on a beach front again, your narcoleptic buddy’s head on your shoulder as he snored away.

Hmm…you’d probably camp out somewhere near your Mini Moby tonight. Your brain couldn’t help but wander about as you played with the thick waves of Ace’s hair. You’d decided to do honest work for the time that the former Division Commander was healing. The reality was you’d been thrust into piracy due to your…”scholarly” pursuits, so of course you’d be doing honest work. It hadn’t paid much is all. After all, the island that Marco had left the two of you at was a quaint, quiet place that wasn’t too far from Saobody, and friendly to Whitebeard pirates. 

You had to admire his wisdom in choosing the place. It had both mountain and beach environments and a lot of greenery, so it would be soothing to the mind as well as the body. The local doctor was also very adept, and there was an extremely talented apothecary there as well. Marco had thought of everything.

You could hear your friend’s usual grumble, moan, and whine that he made whenever he woke up from one of his spells. The weight on your shoulder lifted, as his inky tresses slipped past your fingers as he sat up.

“Good morning,” you hummed jokingly.

“Morning?” He yawned, stretching out. “Did I sleep that long?” He was squinting at his surroundings.

“Nope,” you rolled out your shoulders, “I was thinking of setting up camp near the Mini Moby.”

He blinked at you, “food first,” and grabbed your hand to pull you up with him.

How he was so awake already was beyond you. Perhaps it was a consequence of having to deal with this regularly. 

“Usually you ask if the person is hungry first,” you huffed, working to steady yourself on your feet after being sat for a while.

“You aren’t hungry?” He blinked at you.

Truly it was fascinating how this man before you managed to be fierce, fiery, and beautiful one moment, and then absolutely boyishly adorable the next. “I am,” you nodded, your mouth pulling itself up and pushing your eyes into a smile.

Your dear friend stared at you in silence for a bit, before tugging you by your conjoined hands with a loud declaration of, “then let’s eat!”

And eat, you did. On the house too. Thanks to Ace’s battle prowess he managed to stop the restaurant from getting looted at gunpoint. It wasn’t some casual dine and dash, this guy was threatening the cook’s life!

Though Ace  likely cost the owner the same amount as what he’d have lost from the looting with how much the commander ate. The old man didn’t mind though. 

His daughter definitely didn’t either. You noticed her sneaking glances the pirate’s way the whole evening. You couldn’t blame her, even if you didn’t look directly at the sun, it was still impossible to ignore.

It seems that the personified sunshine in question didn’t notice her longing gazes as he, once again, took your hand to lead you out when you were both done. He was talking your ear off about Luffy again, just like he used to before…

…before everything happened.

The only difference was the way he was holding on to you this time. You found yourself squeezing his palm and watched as he stood at attention and turned to you with a curious expression, “what is it?”

“Nothing,” you shook your head, “I’m just happy.”

You were greeted with a warm silence following your layered confession. Soon enough he was squeezing your hand as well, “me too.”

You didn’t get to see his face as he began pulling you along again.

-_-

On the next island, your friend once again dealt with an issue. Well he dealt with it prior to you even getting there. Due to some Marine’s negligence, there were sea kings terrorizing the locals of said island. Three sea kings to be exact. You found that out when you were greeted with cheers as you docked right after helping Ace take them out so you could arrive safely. Free food, free lodging, among other things were offered to the two of you.

Given you had contributed somewhat, you didn’t mind, the food was going to be made from the Sea King meat anyway. You also didn’t mind much when all the joy resulted in a revelry with your companion at the center of it all. 

You sat, a mug of spicy cocoa in one hand, your cheek pressed into the other as you watched him, arm in arm with other men, children, and the occasional lady: smiling, laughing, celebrating. 

Were the shadows lingering deep within the waters? Or were they on the verge of bursting forth from just beneath the surface you wondered.

There was no denying you loved seeing this side of your beloved friend. Joy suited him well. You just couldn’t help but be concerned that it wasn’t unburdened.

Oh! He was looking at you now. 

He waved you over with an excited smile, to which you raised your mug of cocoa. That made him furrow his brow. Before you knew it he was marching over to you, snatching your hand again, and dragging you to join him. He was kind enough to wait for you to chug your cocoa…well…kinda. He chugged a bunch of it for you when you couldn’t get through it fast enough.

After attempting to do the local dance with him, and laughing along with the crowd at your miserable failure to do so, you were invited to eat some more. In true Ace manner, he fell asleep mid bite, causing everyone to panic. You on the other hand simply chuckled and did your part: lifting his head, wiping his face and his bangs, before gently placing his cleaned head on the table and adjusting his hair a bit. You then unpacked your shawl and transformed it into a makeshift pillow, before sliding it under your unconscious companion’s head. 

It would seem that display resulted in some misunderstandings as the lodging you were offered subsequently was a single room with a bed of a moderate size meant to be shared. You were too embarrassed to ask for a change given they’d given you this room out of their own generosity. The man to your side didn’t seem bothered by it though. Well, it wouldn’t be all that bad really. 

Or so you thought. 

Or so you thought.

Because the former commander was not a peaceful sleeper. You woke up as you’d fallen asleep for the most part. If you’d shifted while sleeping then it wasn’t anything too drastic. Ace on the other hand was a complete starfish. His forearm was on your neck, one of his legs bent over your stomach, with his head off his pillow and a hair’s breadth away from rolling off the bed.

And when his head did inevitably roll off, while you were trying to figure out how and if you even wanted to untangle yourself or not, it took the rest of him with it. As anyone who grew up the way he did would, his instincts kicked in and you found yourself being dragged across the bed while he crashed onto the ground loudly - groaning as he did. You’d ended up tightly tangled in the covers now, with part of Ace’s weight pulling it taut and making it difficult to roll out of the cocoon it had wrapped around you.

When you asked him to get off of your cover, he began apologizing, “ah jeez, did I wake you?” You hated the guilt seeping into every word. “Sorry.”

“Nope,” you shook your head, still tightly bound in the covers, “I woke up right before the disaster struck.”

He didn’t look completely convinced that was the case, so you decided to elaborate: “I was trying to figure out how to get up without disturbing your sleep, when you rolled off.”

He raised a brow at you, and you shot him a pointed look of your own, pursing your lips to further solidify your stance in this staring war. Seems like it paid off because soon enough his shoulders shook with his chuckles. You soon found yourself chuckling along, which of course reminded you that you were still stuck.

“Uh Ace,” you wiggled about, tugging at the cover still under his bottom, “a little help.”

“Oh yeah! Sorry!” He was grinning as he moved aside this time, going so far as to clamber up onto the bed again and help unroll your burrito self. He chuckled at your bedhead when you finally got free, his eyes crinkling and his dimples popping up as he looked at your disheveled appearance. 

It was weird. 

Feeling at ease and self-conscious all at once that is. He’d seen you in worse states, yet you still wanted to look pretty in front of him.

Though as his calloused hands came to pat down the mess your head had gotten itself into to help you get it under control, the emotional pendulum swung more towards being at ease. 

“Y’know,” he hummed as he continued to pat and play with your hair, “I think I like this look on you!”

Just like that you were slung straight back into unease, the heat clambering up your face. You groaned and covered your face, pulling away from him-and receiving a little complaint-as you threw yourself back on the pillows.

“What’s with that reaction?”

You turned away from him, still covering your face. “Oi!” His hand was on your arm turning you back towards him. “Don’t hide from me.”

You decided to peek out from behind your hands, “you know most people don’t say ridiculous bedheads look good.”

“Well yours does!” He grinned, ruffling your hair without any regard for how difficult it may be to style.

You huffed, lips gently curving upwards. You were blanketed by a gentle warmth, and it wasn’t from the sun. No this warmth could only be achieved in the presence of the man beside you. You let yourself look at him as you smiled - and he mirrored your expression. 

-_-

After that first day on the island you started to feel bad about not paying for things, so you decided to offer labor in exchange given the islanders wouldn’t take your berries. At the bath house you fixed a few things around the lady’s home, then bathed. When it came to the food, you washed some dishes in the back including all of the dishes both you and Ace ate out of. He helped of course. 

The rest of your day was spent wandering around, reading newspapers and picking up information from conversations. At one point the two of you separated to explore different areas. You found a cute little shop where you could make things out of wood. When its artisans noticed you staring, they invited you inside. They’d even taught you some basics before leaving you to your own devices with your own small slab of wood.

You became completely absorbed within the atmosphere the shop had to offer, completely losing track of time with the family of artisans as you all worked with gentle conversation flowing. You hadn’t fully realized just how much time had passed until you heard the breathless voice of your traveling companion, frantically inquiring if they’d seen you. Of course he noticed you soon enough, given you’d turned to look at him.

“There you are!” He beamed, relieved to see you,  before his expression flipped into something frustrated.

“Oh my!” The voice of a lady, who’d been patiently teaching you how to whittle, cut into your conversation. “Dear, we had so much fun we didn’t realize we’d worked ourselves well into the evening!”

Sure enough when you turned to the clock it was nearing 10:30 in the evening. The sun had set at least three hours ago. Oh. Looking back to Ace, you paid closer attention to the fact that he was still breathing heavily.

He’d been worried. 

But why? It wasn’t that late. What had he come across during his time wandering on his own?

Hmmm…you could empathize with his concern, though that wasn’t enough to completely appease you. After all it wasn’t like he didn’t go missing for hours on end. You still remember the panic of going about searching the island for him: especially when he was still in bandages!

“Seems like now you know how I feel when you go missing,” you stood up, patting the wood shavings from your project off your lap, and taking off the apron.

“You!” You could almost see the little flickers of flames coming off of his barely clothed shoulders. “I thought something happened to you!”

The father of the little family of artisans began laughing loudly, standing up to give Ace a pat on the shoulder, “now now, I know you’re frustrated,” then he leaned up and whispered something into the former commander’s ear.

Ace’s eyes met yours for an instant before his face and shoulders turned red, his eyes going as wide as saucers, and a little flame flared out from his head. When the older man laughed some more, the pirate tore his gaze away and put on his hat so it covered his face, grumbling, “thanks for the advice.” 

Looking back up at you-face still pink-he announced, “we need to get going.”

“Just a moment, I need to sweep away my wood shavings,” you responded.

“Why don’t the two of you stay for dinner?” It was the elder lady - the grandmother of this quaint family - that offered.

You smiled and shook your head, “I appreciate the offer,” then you jabbed a thumb at your companion, “but this man can eat twice or even three times his weight in food.”

“Hey!”

You turned to him, your smile cheeky, “I’m glad you can.”

That took the wind out of his sails entirely. It was a bit unfair of you, but you really were glad that he could eat like he used to. The whole event was settled and you were promptly shooed out, your shavings left on the floor, as they intended to work some more and there was no point in you sweeping before they finished. 

“Come back tomorrow to finish your work, alright sweetie?” Was the parting they gave you, and you agreed to return the following day.

Ace took your hand the moment you were outside the little family shop, grip tight on yours as he led you through the dimly lit streets. “I got us a room with two beds this time,” he said, eyes forward, “it’s at a different inn though.”

“Oh,” was all you could say, “are you - are you okay?” You squeezed his hand in yours. “I was a little insensitive earlier.”

The action made him halt altogether, his shoulders dropping the tension they were holding as he breathed out. 

“I saw some Marines,” oh. That explained his earlier outrage.

“What’re they here for?” You sped up a little to look at his face. “Do you know?”

“Remember those sea kings we took down?”

“They’re here to finally deal with them?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, “now they’re just staying here because the island folk are mad at them for ignoring them for months.”

“Urgh.”

The corruption and hypocrisy of the Marines was something you had always been critical of. Of course this meant you were also privy to the hypocrisy and hegemony of the World Government (more like World’s Ratified Mafia). And of course such knowledge and attitudes were absolutely intolerable under their dictatorship so soon enough you had a humble bounty on your head.

Justice. 

They had gone and assumed themselves infallible deities: justifying all their behavior through the abuse of the word, they’d completely perverted the concept of justice.

Urgh the sheer egotism.

Disgusting. 

“I saw them not too far from the Mini Moby when I went there looking for you,” he broke you out of your angry reverie, “then I couldn’t find you anywhere.”

You squeezed his hand, “thank you for worrying about me.”

He squeezed your hand back, a silent “you’re welcome.”

“Good thing my bounty doesn’t have a photo right?” 

The marines could never get a clear shot of you for some reason…

“The most they had was a really awful looking drawing, like Blackleg from the Straw Hats!”

Ace’s lips pulled into a massive, very amused grin. 

You still remembered the way he’d laughed himself to the ground, little tears forming in the corners of his eyes when he first saw the wanted poster. Even Marco and…Thatch…had gotten a laugh out of it. 

“It looks nothing like you!”

“What do you mean?” You grinned holding the paper up to your face. “You mean my nose doesn’t look like a carrot?”

And they’d laughed some more. Ace’s laugh was especially memorable, his strong shoulders shaking, his freckled face completely consumed by unbridled mirth. You never stood a chance - sweet, with a smile like that?

You never stood a chance.

“They didn’t see you right?” After all, his wanted poster was much clearer than yours. 

“Nope,” he shook his head, “I’m keeping a low profile until we get back to the New World,” he winked at you, “like we agreed.”

“Good!” You squeezed his hand again.

Later, you’d squeeze his shoulder as you shook him awake. 

Nightmares.

You moved out of the way just in time as he gasped himself awake, chest heaving as he panted for air. He looked around frantically as you soothed him. Which was when he finally turned to look at you. You’d barely gotten a sentence out before he’d tugged at you, crushing you into his embrace.

Your nose was essentially being crushed against his right pectoral muscle. It hurt a bit, so you pat his back while squirming to liberate your nose. He loosened his hold for a moment and you quickly adjusted to be in a more comfortable position, before you were once again being crushed into him. 

You held him back of course.

But not before he could readjust his hold so that his head rested on your chest-more specifically his ear.

Oh.

You began tracing your fingers along his scalp as they weaved through his thick locks. Had his nightmare featured you this time? His grip on you only tightened, a shiver wracking through him before you heard a shuddering breath.

“Ace,” you hummed in an attempt to soothe him again, “Ace, I’m okay,” you tried to keep your tone soft, “I’m okay.”

He nodded, but continued clutching you, body trembling under trapped his emotions within it. You on the other hand continued to run your fingers through his hair, with him gradually getting heavier and heavier in your hold. His grip loosened slightly as his consciousness slipped - if you waited a bit you’d be able to slip out and back into your own bed.

Looking at him, you could see the remnants of his tears sparkle on his lashes. You wished he’d just let himself cry more openly, rather than fight to bottle it up. 

A quiet sigh left you as you looked at the man in your hold, people really were as beautiful as their souls. You continued to play with his hair, basking in the relative silence. 

You ought to tell him that to his face really. Your lips softly pulled upwards as you gently brushed his bangs from his face. 

You wouldn’t have dared to even consider doing that when you first met him: back when he’d convinced you his bravado was confidence. You knew better now though.

He’d probably still tease you if you did. His teasing made him just about intolerable to you initially. 

Yeah…your road to friendship hadn’t been the smoothest. You grinned at the memory, tenderly poking at the little furrow in his brow - coaxing him to relax. He’d very much made you regret your efforts to be kind(er) to him initially with his insufferable teasing. You were reconsidering altogether when he showed up and made amends after realizing he’d gone too far. The teasing remarks soon became playful jabs…which soon became thoughtful discussion when no one else was around.

You smiled at your dear-incredibly dear-friend, and readjusted yourself slightly thinking maybe you could go back to your own bed now. Of course no sooner had you started to consider that, than his grip on you tightened. You’d rather wait a little bit longer to make sure he was definitely asleep enough.

-_-

It was warm.

Too warm.

You found yourself regaining consciousness with a strain of agitation at the temperature your body had achieved while you were resting. You tried to kick off the covers in hopes of revealing your feet and cooling down, however you found that they were much heavier than they ought to be. It wasn’t until you heard a very familiar groan echo throughout the bones of your body that your eyes flew open.

Well…you’d figured out why it was warm.

Soon enough your friend’s eyes also opened, an absolutely criminal pout on his lips. You’d curse Ace’s luck with his genes if they weren’t why he suffered so much all his life. Though you didn’t get to admire him for long as he blinked himself back to the conscious realm, slowly realizing the position he was in, the position you were both in. At which point, a similar kind of alarm found its way onto his expression as he looked up at you.

“Good morning?” You tried.

That was all it took for him to hurriedly grant you freedom from his clutches…and some relief from the heat. Once you were both seated a respectable distance apart, though still on the bed, he shot you a sheepish look, “guess we didn’t need that second bed after all.”

You found yourself snickering at his comment, him joining in soon after, and with that any and all tension was cast away. You went back to your bed, slipped under the cool sheets and slept for a little longer too. So there was a use for the bed after all.

-_-

The rest of the day went well after the initial surprise and awkwardness. You went back to the wood whittling shop and Ace…well he went about doing his own thing. He came back to find you around night time, he’d already stocked the ship up, and set up camp as this time you’d be camping around the Mini Moby. The pose would reset as of dawn of the following day after all.

Bidding farewell to the quaint little family, you couldn’t help but think back to your own, way back on your home island. You did your best not to let your emotions choke you up. Though it was particularly difficult to hold them all in while you were hugging the lady who was old enough to be your aunt and then the grandmother. It was a pleasant surprise when the lovely family invited you to spend the night chatting until it would be time to leave.

“Hey! I can go catch us some wild animal,” your companion raised a brow at you with a smug little grin pulling at the corner of his lips, so you don’t have to worry about how much we eat, was the part he left unsaid.

“Would that be okay with everyone?” You turned to the homey family, who had absolutely no qualms with the suggestion.

The evening zoomed by: you had a fun dinner, exchanged stories over tea and biscuits, and even played some fun family games. It was after the elderly had retired, and your companion had, true to his nature, fallen asleep mid-bite again, that the more sensitive questions were brought up. In true auntie nature, the auntie-aged lady asked about your “husband,” especially given your lack of wedding bands.

You smiled at the auntie while heating up. She wasn’t wrong in her assumption. Prior to letting you escape with the then-captain of the Spade Pirates, your parents had you and Ace sign a marriage contract.

You appreciated him deeply for going along with it. That your parents would let you marry a wanted man though, even if it was supposedly just on paper, even if it was just for the sake of preserving your honor and dignity, showed just how dire and desperate a situation it had been. That he’d gone along with it though…and was remaining true to the agreements made with your family too…

For a pirate, he was an honorable and trustworthy man.

Then again…even the fearsome Whitebeard had more honor than the allegedly just marines.

So anyway, you didn’t correct the auntie, instead nodding and saying how you two were currently sailing together. She seemed relieved that you didn’t correct her on your relationship status, but she didn’t need to know that it was just a marriage on paper.

-_-

“Mornin’ sleepyhead,” was the greeting you’d gotten when you’d exited the singular cabin on the Mini Moby.

Squinting at the light, you rubbed your eyes and grumbled, “there’s no way it’s still morning.”

“You’re right,” you blinked blearily at your companion as he agreed with you, “it's afternoon.”

Which earned a tired groan from you. Which in turn drew an amused laugh from Ace as he continued adjusting the sails.

“You had fun talking with them didn’t you?”

You hummed in agreement as you shrunk back into the cabin. 

“Hey! Where are you going?”

“Water, I need water,” you croaked, opening the door and re-entering the darker environment. 

It felt nice not needing to squint anymore.

When you made your way back out you were assaulted with another question, “how did they figure out we were ‘married’?” He asked you. 

“I mean if you look at them, they seem marriage oriented and traditional,” you shrugged, “it could be a case of them just getting lucky we were in line with their hopes.”

“No wonder you got along with them so well,” he approached you from the helm, “I had a feeling they reminded you of your family.”

“They did,” you nodded, taking a seat on one of the benches on the small deck.

“I remember your folks giving me a hard time when we just needed to get you off the island before the navy got to you,” he recounted.

“I’m relieved they didn’t arrest any of my family members,” you exhaled deeply.

“You got lucky that it was Smoker that responded to the call,” Ace grinned.

“My mother said the same,” you agreed, “in her letter she said that what Smoker lacked in fashion sense he made up for in reasonability and honor.”

“She’d absolutely hate my sense of fashion then,” he laughed.

“She does,” you deadpanned, earning an even more boisterous laugh from him, “but I think she’d appreciate knowing you kept your promise.”

He raised a brow at you, “you mean the one about not laying a hand on you?” He made a show of taking a moment to think, then, “hmm but I forced you to share a bed with me just the other night.”

“Ace!”

He burst into even more boisterous laughter, “I broke that promise almost immediately while we were on the Spadine!” He was clearly relishing in teasing you, “I was always laying hands on you.”

“You know what they meant by that,” you groaned, “and you only ‘lay hands on me,’” you huffed, “to save me from going overboard and keep me out of trouble! That’s the whole reason we insisted on the contract prior to letting me board the Spadine,” you stoof gesturing to him and then the boat you were currently on, “they knew that you’d need to grab me for my own safety.”

As if to prove your point the ship lurched and you almost went overboard. Luckily Ace had the muscle to pull you onto the deck-or well onto him really, as you came crashing into his chest…which was…still clothed! Seems he’d forgotten to take his shirt off - which was currently to your benefit, so you weren’t complaining.

Looking up at him as he held you to him, you gave him a dry look, “see what I mean?”

“Yeah,” he grinned at you, readjusting his hold on you as another wave rocked the ship, “but, I’ve been pretty handsy this last year,” he cocked an eyebrow up, “wouldn’t you say?”

You found yourself heating up. What was he trying to achieve teasing you like this? You instead sent him your most unimpressed stare and he laughed some more. 

“Everyone needs a hug sometimes,” you grumbled, “I wouldn’t call that being handsy.”

You could feel his chuckles from where he held you, you could hear them loud and clear through his chest. You needed to get some space between you. Though you couldn’t even begin to move away before the waves threw you onto him again.

The sooner the two of you regrouped with Marco, the better. You needed to get yourself under control. Having Marco around would help. Probably. You tried not to touch him any more than necessary as you gingerly removed yourself from his grasp and moved away a bit looking for a way to make yourself helpful.

“I think the island after this is Saobody,” Ace grinned tugging on the ropes for the sail as he deftly maneuvered your small vessel, “after that we can get to the New World.”

“Well we’d have to go to Ryuguu first,” you corrected, “I wonder how Madame Sharly is doing.”

“Madame Sharly?” He glanced away from the waters to raise a brow at you. “I thought you didn’t agree with her fortune telling.”

“I don’t,” you approached him to help where you could, “but there’s no denying she’s gorgeous,” you took a rope, “and soothing to listen to.”

“So I’m competing with a mermaid?” He shook his head.

“Competing how?” Was he trying to be the most soothing presence in your life or something?

Ace looked startled by your question, furthering your confusion. He blinked at you silently once before sheepishly scratching the back of his head, “it’s…nothing.”

“But how would you be competing with a mermai-” you found yourself nearly thrown off again by the ship lurching yet again. Your work on the ropes came undone as you held onto them for dear life. It wasn’t a moment and a large, warm hand helped pull you back up and helped you regain your footing.

You couldn’t help but notice the ink on your friend’s wrist as he gently pried the ropes out of your hands and secured them himself. You stood there for a moment watching as he deftly tied them up before shaking yourself out of your reverie and making your way to the helm instead. 

-_-

You actually ended up at Saobody Archipelago. Which was convenient. Now it was just a process of trying to get your little ship coated. Oh and to avoid marines and all that. 

Unfortunately the “friendly neighborhood ship coater Ray-san” wasn’t available. Only that made sense. He was with Luffy, training him. His partner was manning the joint though. You weren’t sure of their relationship status but, “if I were Mr. Rayleigh I’d make sure to at least attempt to propose to you.”

That earned you a chuckle from the lovely lady, “mmm some men can be cowardly in the romantic arena,” she was grinning.

Which was when you heard choking to your left - it was Ace, thankfully he’d started coughing. You immediately began patting his back, and then turned back to the lady, “So um Ms. Shakky, would you happen to know how to coat a ship?”

“Nope,”  Shakky took a puff of her cigarette, “I run the bar. Rayleigh runs the coating service.”

And he’s the most trustworthy man to coat the ship on the archipelago. Well…

“Can you suggest any other coating services?” You tried.

She hummed as she took a drag off her cigarette, before elegantly tapping out some ashes into an ashtray. Breathing out she grinned at you, “I don’t think you have to bother with looking for anyone else.”

Well that had the potential to be ominous.

“Are you saying he’ll be back soon?” It was Ace who was asking the question through his coughs.

“Oh did he say he’s on his way back?”

“No, just my intuition,” her expression looked fairly amused before it settled into something more cheshire. 

She was humming as she studied you, “I have to say you do have a way of making a woman feel appreciated dear,” she threw a wink your way.

“I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable,” you sheepishly returned her smile, “my friends and I used to ‘flirt’ with each other all the time to express our love for one another and y’know?” you shrugged. “Boost each other’s confidence, all that.”

Shakky rested her cheek on her palm as she chuckled at you, “it didn’t make me uncomfortable at all, it’s very cute,” she looked over to your side, “wouldn’t you say so Porto-chan?”

He sputtered, almost choking on his drink again, “way to put a guy on the spot huh Shakky?”

She giggled at him,before turning back to you, “I’m sure this was only between you and your girl friends, given Porto-chan’s reaction here.”

“Well I wouldn’t want to give any guys the wrong idea,” you shrugged.

“True,” Shakky tapped out some more ashes, once again glancing to your side. 

-_-

True to what Shakky had said, Rayleigh came back not three days later. When you mentioned that she had really strong intuition he’d let out an amused whistle and, “women’s intuition can be scary,” before regaling you all with the tale of how Shakky’d been on the mark with something else.

The Pirate Empress, The Most Beautiful Woman in the World, Boa Hancock herself, had fallen in love, and fallen pretty hard. You heard the beautiful woman whose presence you were currently in giggle with, “see, I told you Monkey-chan was pretty good looking.” 

“Scary,” Rayleigh grinned as he breathed the word, “you women and your intuition are scary.”

“Eh?!” Ace was the one to vocally react. “She’s in love with Luffy?!”

Somehow his surprise was what had you laughing. “He’s a real charmer that Luffy, isn’t he?” You beamed at his older brother who looked like a mix of surprised, proud, and disbelieving all at once…maybe even a tinge jealous? “He takes after his brother.”

His owlish stare turned to you, and you saw a little lick of fire escape off his shoulders. All the while you simply shot him a lopsided grin given one cheek was smushed into your first. 

You’d briefly met Luffy while with Ace in Arabasta. He reminded you of Ace in some ways: bright, bombastic, straightforward…reckless…and…very loving. There was one thing about Luffy though: you could say he was more honest about his feelings and less prone to prejudice - oh! Though you’d also say that while Luffy was dependable, Ace felt more responsible, which made sense given he was the older one of the two. You wondered what sort of kindness Luffy extended to the Pirate Empress that she fell for him.

“Whatcha thinking about there?” You blinked yourself out of your trance as you felt a warm finger poke at your forehead.

You looked up into your dear (oh so dear) companion’s eyes and felt yourself melt at the warmth they held, “I’m wondering which of Luffy’s traits caused the Pirate Empress to fall.”

He huffed, and you found yourself following the corner of his lip as it curled upwards, “he’s always had a way with people, that kid brother of mine.”

His gaze was distant, as though he was looking at something very far in the past. Or perhaps not that far away really, these descriptors could be relative.

“So how is Luffy?” You turned to Rayleigh. “Is he doing well?”

The old man’s expression could be described in a singular word: proud. “He’s got another six months of training by himself, but I’m sure he’ll be fine,” he turned his gaze to another person in the room, “he’s real excited to see his crew, and his brother again.”

The beaming smile on Ace’s face said more than words ever could.

-_-

The evening before you would depart for Fishman Island, you’d gone to take a stroll alongside your dear friend. The tree canopies got in the way of you being able to see the stars, but the bubbles twinkled in their stead. 

You turned to study your beloved’s form yet again. Your hands squeezed the straps of your pack, soon enough the world would know about him - that he’d survived. They’d be back to hunting him down, only with twice as much zeal. Marines and enemies of his late father alike.

“What?” He glanced at you, raising his eyebrow. “Do I still have salsa on my face or something?”

You shook your head quickly looking away, “I was just thinking about how, soon enough, you’ll be back to being hunted.”

“Are you worried?” You could hear his amusement, and he even had the gall to laugh when you scowled up at him. “Dumb question, of course you are.”

“Very dumb question,” you grumbled and he laughed some more.

“Hey! I’m pretty strong!”

“I still don’t want to see you get hurt,” you let out a long, tired breath, “when you’re back to officially being a wanted man.”

“Wanted huh?” He was again looking out into the distance, mumbling. “Wanted by everyone but the person I want.”

The person he wanted? 

“Who would that be?” You found yourself asking despite yourself. 

Despite the way your heart hammered at you begging you to remain silent. Despite the way your extremities lost heat. Despite the clammy feeling in your palms as they all but squeezed the straps they held. Despite the ringing in your ears. Despite the way your stomach sloshed as though you’d swallowed a sea storm.

It was such a dangerous question to ask. He’d just said with certainty that the person he wants doesn’t want him - that rules you out. For some reason your thoughts jumped to the Pirate Empress. He mentioned getting to see her while he was stuck in Impel Down.

You watched, your head feeling as though it was full of cotton, as his Adam's apple bobbed with a thick swallow. “Can I…” he wasn’t looking at you as he asked, “can I hold your hands?”

Did he know? Was he trying to hold your hands to let you down slowly? Ace was always a little clumsy with these kinds of things…or was he? He was kind regardless. You had to repay this kindness, so you plastered on whatever smile you could.

If Ace had found someone to love, even if it wasn’t you, you’d be happy for him.You could be heartbroken later, but happy for him now.

You nodded, feeling the pain in your joints as you unclenched them. Your hands were slightly trembling and cold as he held them in his own larger, warmer ones - oh this was a horrible idea! Your hands were starting to get sweaty! Instinctively you started pulling away, “wait my hands - sweat - they’re sweaty!”

“I don’t care,” he tightened his hold on your hands, and as he spoke you noticed, “so are mine.”

He looked at you, and he seemed absolutely convinced of something. You kept up your little smile. 

“I,” he swallowed again, bringing your hands closer to his chest, “I don’t think I can keep my promise to your parents,” a little flame escaped his shoulder as he said that, “I-” he pulled your hands even closer to him, “I want to be real.” 

What?

“I mean I want our relationship-er-marriage to be real!” He rushed to correct himself. “I want to be with you! But in a real relationship! Not just on paper! I want you - ah!” More flames escaped his shoulders as he got louder. “No! Not like that! I mean yes like that- but not just like that! I mean I want - can I?”

He threw his head back, a loud groan of frustration leaving him, meanwhile you just stared at him, brain abuzz as it tried to process what he was saying. He looked at you again, determined expression back full force, “can I be your husband? Your real husband? Can I be,” he glanced away before mumbling, “yours?”

Your mouth had opened slightly to let some air in. The world was almost spinning - save for Ace. The warmth that was flooding your body was practically dizzying. Something stuck out to you - well two things as your legs gave out and Ace lunged to soften your landing and crouch in front of you, in that silly way he always did, still holding your hands. 

“You can’t keep your promise to my parents?” You blinked at him.

“That’s what you heard?” He groaned.

“No I heard it all Ace,” your breaths were heavy, “my brain’s struggling to keep up,” you gulped, “give me a minute to catch up.”

“No, I don’t think I can,” he shook his head, cheeks fully flush as he looked away from you, “I want our relationship to be real… and my promise-it wasn’t a problem back then-but now..” 

He trailed off, struggling to make eye contact with you as he admitted, “now, it’s a major problem,” he shook his head at you seriously, “I can’t keep it. I want to have a real relationship - I’d regret not trying to have a real relationship with you.” 

He did not shy away as he concluded his confession, “the promise gets in the way.”

You blinked at him, finding the air suddenly too warm.

“Can,” you gulped, head still full of static and the sound of the heavy thumping of your heart, “can you ask me to be yours?”

He blinked at you confused by the response, so you pressed on, “instead of - instead of,” your bottom lip was trembling and you could feel heat radiate from your cheeks, “asking to be mine,” was this a dream?

Your heart did some kinda fancy somersault at the way Ace straightened at your last word, much like he would whenever he was excited about something.

“Are you asking me to call you mine, like that?” He leaned into your space.

You couldn’t help the way your whole body was zapped to attention at the giddiness that consumed it when the word: “mine,” left Ace’s lips.

He looked at you with an equal amount of giddiness upon comprehending what your question implied, and his bravado seemed to find him again - but more than that, it was hope that pulled his lips into a massive, luminous grin as he asked, “then, will you be mine?”

When your lips wobbled into a smile, he decided to continue on, “y’know be my wife? My real wife?”

Your head was moving up and down in agreement before you were fully aware of it, “yes.”

You barely registered the pure unadulterated joy, and maybe even the glimmer of liquid in your…husband’s eyes before he was pulling you into a tight hug, gurgled chuckles leaving him. You weren’t any better, you were practically clinging to him as you began to sob, the salty blobs washing away the maelstrom of emotions with liquid relief. You might have felt some wetness on your own shirt.

You probably had, with how he sounded wobbly when asking, “did I make you cry, darlin’?”

Which of course made your tears worse, as you gulped and tried to force yourself to be calm, “I’m just happy it was me.”

He chuckled, “who else could it be?”

Who else - well…wait.

“But, are you sure?” You let go to look at him, his brow furrowed and lips pursed in confusion. “Are you sure this isn’t just because of the past year and a half where all we had was each other?”

His frown deepened for a moment before it relaxed into something sheepish, “I think I started feeling this way since,” he paused to think about it, “maybe even before Pops took me in.” 

“You mean when you were still captain of the Spades?”

“You don’t have to sound so surprised,” he chuckled some of his nerves out, “you’re a real catch y’know?” He raised a brow at you. “I even had to play the husband card a few times back then.”

“Really?” You paused to think about it. “I remember us arguing most of the time back then.”

“Yeah, I remember I used to complain to Deuce about that,” he let out a hearty laugh, “but remember that time when everyone was celebrating-”

“And I found you sitting by yourself in the crow’s nest when I went up to hide from everyone?”

“Yeah,” it was there - the wistful quality to Ace, “that was probably when this all started.”

“Wasn’t I just talking about why I had a bounty on my head back then?” You tried to remember.

“Yeah,” he sighed out, “you were really passionate about it too,” there was a dopey quality to his smile, “and I couldn’t help it - you reminded me of my brother and I thought you were really smart.”

“Sabo?” You asked tentatively.

He nodded, “in the beginning it was because of that - I just wanted to be by you and hear everything you had to say, it made me feel like my brother was alive again.”

“That explains the way you kept nagging me back then.”

“Nagging?”

“That’s how it felt to me back then.”

He shrugged, “when we were on the Moby Dick though - I stopped thinking of Sabo, I just wanted to know what you had to say.”

“Really?” He chuckled as you lit up. You wondered if he realized how deeply his confession touched you.

“Really!” He grinned at you, and you felt a warmth wrap around you like a warm blanket.

He looked so boyish as he shrugged, “ anyway, Marco tried to push me to confess to you after I woke up,” he grabbed your hand, tracing your knuckles with his thumb, “he told me all about how much I made you worry,” he turned your hand over in his, “but I was too scared to believe it meant anything.”

“Marco knew about it?” You asked when he was done.

“Everyone knew!” He chuckled. “Heck even Pops knew,” he grinned now looking at the tattoo that sat on his pulse, “of course they knew, I pulled out the husband card on some swabbies.”

He burst out laughing, “you should’ve seen their faces!” He calmed down. “It wasn’t so funny when the commanders heard me though-” he grimaced, but smiled soon enough. 

“I’m glad they did though,” he went back to rubbing warm circles into your skin, “forced me to reckon with myself,” he looked into your eyes, “put a name to what I was feeling.”

“Put a name to what you were feeling?” You breathed out - head as light as ever. “What did you come up with?”

You watched his shoulders rise and fall with the deep breath he took, as though steeling himself again. There was a ferocity in his gaze as it locked onto yours, “I was jealous,” he brought the hand he held to his lips letting them carve his answer into your skin, “whenever I saw someone else trying to win you over,” his hand squeezed yours as yet another wave of heat crashed over you, “I felt jealous and gross because it wasn’t like you were really my wife.”

“I’m not good enough for you,” what was he- “but your parents told me to protect you. And I would -will, and not because they asked me to. I just want to.”

“Ace,” you felt the warmth foment into wrath instead, “you’re confusing me,” you frowned, yanking your hand back, “what do you want from me?”

You saw it then, a flicker of the shadows of the monsters beneath the waters.

You loved Ace. You knew this. You knew that it made you lenient towards him at times. But right now…no. You needed clarity.You weren’t about to enter this new stage on shaky foundations. Because you loved him you couldn’t afford to be lenient about this.

“You ask to be mine,” you couldn’t help the way the fear seeped into your words, “then tell me you aren’t good enough for me,” you looked away with a frown, “I know you don’t have the best idea about yourself, but…just…” you were struggling to put words to it, “what are you trying to achieve?”

When you looked at him again, his eyes were wide, his mouth slightly ajar. He probably didn’t expect things to go like this. Especially given you could have said they’d been going well initially, until you ruined things with your overthinking…but still…you didn’t want some kind of accidental or pity romance. You didn’t want Ace to feel indebted to you, or make decisions while confused or vulnerable.

Though as you looked at him, all the shock left his body, his singular brow arching in that unique way it did with him, while his lips curved up. “Hey, can I hold your hand again?”

“O-kay?” Where was he going with this?

He took your hand again, carefully spread out your fingers, and then pressed it to chest, right above his heart, like he had back when you’d started hyperventilating. He held it there and you could feel the rabid, slightly erratic pattern it was taking, “y’feel that?”

You nodded.

“You’re right,” he was sheepish, “telling you I’m jealous, and that I want you to be mine, and that I can’t keep a promise to keep my hands off of you makes it sound like I’m really horny, huh?”

He was laughing as you sputtered in embarrassment, and held your palm firm to his chest, “to be honest with ya, I really like having your hand on my chest here - kinda wish I wasn’t wearing a shirt really.”

“Ace!” You barely garbled out.

“I think you’re amazing,” he continued, holding firm - and you could feel his heart pounding under your palm, “and like you said, I hate the cursed blood I carry.”

“It’s not-”

“But you know how I said I want to live a life without regrets?” You stopped struggling. “I’m not good enough, never will be, not for you,” his hand squeezed yours, pushing it further against his chest, “but, I’d regret not trying to be good enough, I’d regret not shooting my shot.”

“How can you say that with such certainty?” You frowned. “What if I’m not good enough for you?”

“What’s that thing you like to say?” He hummed. “It’s my opinion?”

“I hate your opinion.”

He guffawed. “I’m a coward,” he confessed as he calmed down, “and a selfish bastard,” his smile rivaled the sun, “but I wanna spend the rest of my life with you, even if I’m not worthy.”

“You are,” you glared at him.

His expression went back to that charmingly confused one. “I’ve deemed you worthy,” you huffed - genuinely upset with how he was speaking about himself, “regardless of all this worthy-worthy talk, you’re the one I want to spend my life with too.”

You genuinely could not find it in you to care how cute his grin was right now, “and that’s the worst proposal I could receive!” You were fuming. “I hate it when you insult yourself like that!”

“I’m below you, but please accept me,” you scowled, “well no can do!”

His face fell at your rant. “I want an equal Ace,” you gestured with your free hand, “I want a partner, not an indentured servant! I don’t want to be put on a pedestal! If my husband isn’t willing to be on equal footing with me then-”

“Hey that wasn’t what I meant!” The object of your fury (and affections?) argued. “I’m just saying you’re out of my league!”

“That’s one thing to say,” you were rather animatedly ranting now, “and we’ll have to agree to disagree on that-because hot stuff you’re within a league of your own,” you continued what was likely years worth of frustration with his self-deprecation leaving you, “and for argument’s sake, let’s say you weren’t - that sounds like an excuse not to work hard to become worthy once I accept you!” 

“I didn’t mean that at all!” He cut into your rant. “‘Sides I already said I’m gonna bust my ass trying to be good enough for you!”

“Well that’s all any girl would ask for! You absolute dumbass!” You yelled back at him. “No one wants to hear their loved ones talk smack about themselves the way you do!”

“Just imagine we had kids one day and they hear their father talking about himself in such an awful way!” Seriously, where did this idiot come from? Talking about himself in such a terrible way. “What kind of lessons would you be teaching them? What kind of example are you setting? They’d learn to-”

“Kids?” He blinked owlishly at you - oh.

Ohhh…

Ohhhh nnnoooooo.

If he wasn’t holding your hand to his chest, you’d have put more distance between you two, but for now you’d have to settle for covering your face with one hand while looking away. It was silent for a long minute…was it a minute? You weren’t sure, but you felt Ace’s chest vibrate with a series of chuckles and braced yourself.

“You’re a real difficult woman to please, y’know?” You met his amused stare with your own unamused one.

“I don’t want to start our relationship on anything but a solid foundation,” you muttered, “if you don’t feel worthy, then put in the effort to feel worthy.”

His grin only widened, “y’know I’d take that to mean you want me the same way I want you.”

“I think that fact is pretty well established by this point,” you grumbled.

“If I understood everything,” oh he looked so smug right now, “then if I wanna tell you I love you, I can’t say anything about how you’re out of my league?”

“You think I’m out of your league.”

“Oh that’s right, because I’m hot stuff.”

He laughed some more when you rolled your eyes. His laughs died immediately when you said, “you are hot stuff.”

“Because…I’m made of fire?” He gulped.

“No.”

“I forgot how assertive you could get,” he blushed, stunned, “it’s been a while since I pissed you off huh?”

Your embarrassment was beginning to catch up to you, as you adjusted yourself to be able to rest your cheek on your palm. You were avoiding looking at him, even if he was essentially burning a hole into you with how he was unabashedly looking at you.

“That bit about our future kids…I never wanted any, but I’m starting to like the idea,” he was being such a tease.

“Yeah? Well, I want kids!” You huffed, still not looking at him.

“Mmm, even if they’re mine?”

“Especially if they’re yours!” You huffed. “You and the idiots in the World Government are the only people with such a weird fixation on Gold Roger’s blood.”

“Darlin’ you’re being really bold right now,” he was grinning, “how mad at me are you?”

“I’m livid,” you finally turned to glare at him, “you’ve been saying absolutely awful things about my d-dear darling husband! It’s-it’s unforgivable!”

One corner of his lips curled upwards at the way you stuttered, but the little flickers of flames popping off his shoulders revealed he was just as embarrassed as you were. “Sounds like,” he swallowed thickly, “sounds like you really like this husband of yours.”

You swallowed as you looked him in the eyes, “I love him.”

His eyes widened, then he scowled, “hey! I wanted to say it first!”

“Well, be faster next time!” You stuck your tongue out at him - wait. “You did though.”

“Ah! So you did hear me!” He pointed a finger at you, finally releasing your hand, letting it drop from his chest.

“Yeah,” you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest, “but you were being mean to yourself, so I had more important things to deal with.”

“More important than me telling you I love you?” He looked at you incredulously. “For the first time?”

“Well maybe if you didn’t put yourself down right after,” you poked his nose with your index finger, “I would have focused on the ‘I love you’ part more!”

His eye twitched for all but a moment, expression indignant, “you’re really hot when you’re assertive y’know?” 

You sputtered at that and looked away to maintain some semblance of composure. You didn’t see that coming. He called for you and you looked at him again, “you asked me if I was sure about this.”

You nodded at him, frustration finally cooling down.

“I’ve never been so certain about anything in my life,” he declared, “I want you by my side, I want to be by yours, I want to spend the rest of our lives together until we’re nothing but skeletons in a grave.”

“I love you,” he stated it like it was as factual as the sea being blue, “even when you’re mad and yelling at me for confessing to you badly,” his grin settled for something more solemn as he asked, “what about you? Are you sure?”

“I am,” you nodded, “I want to build a life together. With you.”

“I love you,” he breathed it out like a prayer then, and you couldn’t help but describe his expression as reverent.

“I love you too,” you responded firmly as though it were an irrefutable fact, and you could feel your smile threaten to split your face in two.

“Satisfied?” He asked. “Is this ground solid enough for us?”

“I think so,” you nodded, “I want nothing but success for our relationship.”

“Me too,” he grinned as he ruffled through his pockets, from which he pulled out two velvet boxes. “I got these with-what did you call it again?” He grinned. “Honest money?”

You simply stared at the boxes in shock, then back up at your husband, then back down at the boxes. “What?” There was an amused lilt to his speech. “Y’didn’t think I would confess to you unprepared now did ya?”

You guessed you did, with the surprise you were feeling, as you tentatively reached for one of the boxes and opened it up. To your greatest fortune the silver band was clearly meant for a groom. Your eyes widened when you looked over and saw the ring he’d picked out for you, raising a brow at him you couldn’t help but wonder, “how did you get the funds for this?”

“I did some work around that island we were on,” he beamed, “and sold some of the gifts they gave us when we beat those sea kings.”

“It’s so pretty,” you admired what was going to be your ring, it reminded you a little of fire, the ruby red gem was cut in a teardrop shape however the surrounding gems were arranged in such a way that it looked like a flame, you giggled your shoulders relaxing, “it reminds me of you.”

“That right?” He smiled, removed the ring and packed the box up in his pocket, as he took your left hand in his, “I kinda wanted it to,” he admitted as he slid the ring on your finger.

While you were admiring your finger, Ace tried to grab the other box from you, however you pulled it out of his grasp, “ah ah ahh,” you tutted, “I’ll be the one to do the honors!”

“Yeah,” he nodded, “I really like it when you’re assertive.”

He laughed at you as you pointedly avoided his waggling brows until you had the ring ready. He already had his hand out for you to slide the ring into, seemingly more than happy to wear that symbol that seemed so silly to him…until now, you supposed as you slid the band onto his finger. 

“Should we say vows?” You asked. “Wait, didn’t they say the vows before the rings?”

Ace hooked his pinky with yours, “I promise - er - vow, to…” he gulped and you could feel him heat up, “love…you…uh until I die - for as long as I live?” He slacked. “I’m not great at this poetic stuff.”

“Then don’t be poetic,” you smiled at him, “just say what you want to say.”

“Then,” he tightened his pinky, “I’m gonna work hard every day to be a man worthy of being by your side,” he looked you dead in the eyes, “it’s true that it’s due to pure luck I even got the chance to get to know you, but I won’t ever let this opportunity go. I’ll love you to the day I die, and even beyond that if I can.”

“You already said that,” you smiled at him, “maybe we didn’t need to do vows.”

“I’ll say it every day if you want me to.”

Somehow…somehow…now that you had a ring on your finger, and with your pinky linked to his, and with him reiterating how strongly he felt…somehow…

All you could do was blink at him. 

This was really happening. 

The last remnants of indignation flickered away into the breeze that toyed with the waves of your beloved’s hair.

Oh.

This was…you were…Ace was…you blinked up at him, “is this real life, or am I dreaming right now?”

His determined expression was wiped off with one that was very unamused, “I’m out here pouring my heart to you - wait you dream about me?”

“Maybe once or twice?” You continued to gape at him. Noticing his own surprised expression, you shook yourself out of your trance, and pulled at your joined pinkies. “Oh-yeah, my-my turn.”

His gaze carried that same softness you’d seen for a while now as he waited to hear your vows, “I know it won’t always be easy, the same way painting a masterpiece isn’t easy, but,” you paused your joy teasing your lips, “I am determined to spend the rest of my life here with you,” you looked him straight in the eyes, “you’re worth every bit of love I have to give, and I’ll prove it through my efforts and commitment, I’ll work hard so you’ll never regret choosing me.”

“Never,” he affirmed.

“Using a negative term…feels rather…negative, don’t you think?” You thought aloud.

“Then,” he shook your pinky-linked hands, “I’m going to work hard every day to make sure you’re always happy you married me.”

“And I’m going to make sure you’re always happy you chose me.”

“Always,” he affirmed again, the two of you laughing at the repetition of the pattern.

“Pops was right,” he let go of your pinky.

“About?”

“He kept telling everyone to calm down and stop meddling because our relationship would happen in its own time,” he sheepishly scratched at the back of his neck, “though he did tell me not to wait forever after a while.”

“How long is a while?”

“A few months?”

“Oh pops,” you chuckled as you reached for his tattooed wrist tracing the mark of your late captain, “Marco found out about my feelings for you from Thatch.”

“From Thatch?” He looked surprised. “Marco knew?”

There was betrayal written all over his expression.

“That’s probably why he was pushing you to confess after the war,” you continued to trace his tattoo even as he shuddered, “Marco tried to get me to confess too.”

“He did?”

“It felt wrong,” you shook your head, looking up at him, “you’d nearly died, pops had died, I was a mess mentally, I figured you’d be a mess mentally,” you continued to shake your head as your breathing shallowed, “I told him as much, and he stopped trying to convince me.”

“How’d Thatch find out?”

“Teased me about hosting a wedding banquet given we didn’t have one because y’know?” Your smile was gentle as you remembered the late Fourth Division Commander, your finger resuming its path along the inked mustache. “I told him not to joke about that - and he figured it out immediately.”

“Then he went and told Marco?” Ace guessed. “Wait, I remember there being a day when you were chasing after Thatch on the deck, looking really desperate about something.”

“Yepp,” you nodded, taking in a deep inhale you traced the crossbones on your husband’s skin again, “got him to promise not to tell anyone else after I found out he’d told Marco.”

“Y’know, at that point I was already a goner for you,” he confessed, “and the crew already knew about me.”

A silence passed over the two of you, as you continued to play with the mark on his skin.

“To think…you liked me too?” He scratched the back of his head with the hand not currently in your clutches. “I mean back then!”

“Is it really that surprising?” You pressed down on his pulse a little.

“It’s just,” you looked up at him, “darlin’,” there was that sweet, sweet adage again, “you ended up on my ship due to pure dumb luck,” his hand moved to grab your own that was still tracing his tattoo, “you’re practically a princess in comparison to a pirate like me.”

You scoffed at that, “please, I am far from being a princess.”

“To me you are,” this might be the softest you’ve ever seen your friend, “and this isn’t me talking down about myself,” he poked you in the forehead, “you’re smart, you’ve got a family that wouldn’t hesitate to shoot me dead if I ever tried anything funny-”

You laughed at that bit, “my cousin especially.”

“She was more than ready to have my head and I hadn’t even done anything yet,” he laughed alongside you, “‘the only reason I’m letting you take her is because I have to! Who knows what they’ll do to her in the marine prisons.’ was what she said before threatening to hunt me down.”

You both laughed at that, “if she sees you keep me safe and make me happy she’ll love you, you know?”

“Love me like that?” He raised a brow at you.

“Maybe!” You shrugged.

“You see?” He gently poked your cheek with his knuckle, “you’re royalty. Way out of my league.”

“Technically you’re royalty,” you flicked his forehead.

“How?” His confused expression was absolutely adorable.

“Pops was an Emperor!” You beamed. “You’re a pirate prince.”

The two of you shared a laugh, the ridiculousness of the notion amusing both of you until, “oh that’s right!”

“What is?” Ace startled as you suddenly straightened up, shoving your hand into your own pocket, and pulling out a small wooden plaque attached to an adjustable black cable.

Upon further inspection it became apparent that it was a bracelet - one you’d whittled back at the little family’s shop. On the main plaque there was Whitebeard’s jolly roger, and it was surrounded by two wooden “beads” - could you call them that? One was a flame shape and the other a spade, you’d had to make sure they were thick enough that you could put a hole through either one.

“This is for you!” You beamed at him as you offered it to him.

“Did you make this?” He stared between you and the bracelet.

“Yeah!” You grinned. “I tried making your happy and sad faces, but it didn’t work out, so I made a spade and little flame instead!”

“You sure know how to make a man feel loved,” he gently traced at the jolly roger etched in the wood.

“I hope you always feel loved in my presence,” you beamed.

“I do,” he grinned at you, “so much it’s almost scary,” he held out the bracelet to you, “will you do the honors?”

“With pleasure,” you took the trinket out of his hands and slid it onto his bare, right wrist.

He barked out a laugh, when you went straight back to playing with the tattoo on his pulse. “What’s so funny?” You couldn’t help but ask.

“Nothing,” he shook his head, “I’m just thinking about how we could have been real years ago.”

“In that case weren’t we technically a real couple at that point? If everybody knew?” You rubbed your thumb along his tattooed pulse point. “Except for us, that is.”

“Mmm but I wanted to do, coupley things with you,” he wiggled his eyebrows at you, relishing in how that seemed to make you shy.

Though, it seemed like you weren’t one to simply let him have the last say. You weren’t looking at him as you took his tattooed pulse and brought it to your lips. He jolted at the sensation, heart leaping. Little flames flickering out of his shoulders as you made eye contact with him afterwards, “how’s that for coupley things?”

He was quick to grab and tug you into him, relishing in your mild surprise, “don’t you know better than to play with fire?” He grinned at you as he readjusted the hand that had found its way to your waist. 

“I remember being told I have to ask a lady for permission to kiss her,” he nodded his chin at your lips, “may I?”

You were too embarrassed to say yes, instead choosing to cover your face with your hands. “Ace!” You whined. “Have mercy on me.”

“I didn’t realize you were this shy,” he was chuckling, “where’d your bold attitude go?”

He guffawed when you let out an embarrassed screech at the reminder, “I was absolutely shameless earlier, don’t remind me!”

“I didn’t think so,” oh you could hear the smug grin on his face, “you felt more fierce to me,” he sounded closer, “it’s a real turn on, y’know?”

“Ace!” You garbled out.

He chose to press a little kiss to your forehead instead, “I’m not gonna push you, just teasing you a little is all.”

True to his word, he readjusted his hold, and repositioned the two of you so that he could hug you from behind. He was kinda like a koala bear in that regard.

“Hey Ace?” He gave a small hum in response. “Can I see your tattoo again?”

“You sure like playing with it huh?” He asked as he handed his hand over to you and you turned slightly in his hold.

You could feel his eyes on you as you pressed your thumbs into it, feeling the steady thrum of his heart. Once again, you brought his wrist to gently brush your lips against it, and felt him jolt. Finally you brought his pulse to your forehead, “I’m so happy you’re alive.”

When you turned to face him again, his cheeks were bright, dusted in those freckles you adored, as he smiled, not a shadow in sight, “me too.”

As always I am OPEN TO CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM, and would like to know if anyone seemed out of character. Please and thank you! Reblogs and comments appreciated!

Want more Ace stuff? Check out my MasterList

[rafeskai]

Game On | Gamer!Rafe Cameron x Gamer!Reader

First Game

Summary: One day, you step into the unfamiliar world of Call of Duty, unsure of what to expect. As the chaos unfolds, a smooth, teasing voice cuts through the tension, offering guidance and unexpected camaraderie. What starts as a random match becomes something more, leaving you intrigued by the connection forged in the midst of gunfire and strategy.

Pairings: gamer!reader & gamer!rafe

Warnings: N/A

Author's Note: Let me know if you guys like this concept and want more of it!

It was a late Friday night, the air crisp outside but warm inside your room as you settled in for your first-ever Call of Duty session. You had spent the last few weeks watching gameplay videos, trying to learn the ropes, but you knew tonight would be your real initiation into the world of multiplayer gaming. You weren't sure what to expect, but you were eager.

With your headset snug around your ears and your controller in hand, you queued up for a random match. As the loading screen began, a voice came through the headset.

"Yo, you new to this?" The voice was smooth, teasing, but also somehow welcoming.

You jumped slightly, not expecting someone to talk so soon. You had just barely gotten the game started, and you were still figuring out the controls.

"Uh... yeah," you admitted, not sure how to respond. "First time, actually."

"Nice, you're in for a ride," the voice chuckled, sounding amused. "I’m Rafe, by the way. And you are?"

"(Y/N)," you said, still adjusting your controller as the game finally loaded, your avatar popping into the map. "I’m hoping I don’t totally mess this up."

"No promises, but I'll try not to let you die too fast." Rafe’s laughter was infectious, and somehow, it made you feel more at ease. You were still figuring out the controls, but having someone to chat with helped take the edge off.

The match began, and instantly, you were thrown into the chaos of gunfire and explosions. Rafe’s voice came through again, guiding you.

"Alright, go left—watch your six!" he warned as you awkwardly navigated your character, trying to figure out how to aim and shoot without getting killed immediately. You managed to take cover behind a crate, heart racing as you peeked around.

“Got your back, just stay low.” His voice was steady, like he’d done this a thousand times.

You didn't need much guidance to know when things were going wrong, and in the next few moments, you found yourself at the mercy of an enemy soldier. But just as you were about to be gunned down, a shot rang out, taking the enemy out.

“Did you—?” you asked, astonished.

"Yep," Rafe replied casually. "Just wanted to make sure you didn’t get your first kill too easily."

Your heart skipped a beat, both for the adrenaline rush of surviving and for the way Rafe seemed to always be a step ahead. You were starting to get the hang of things, moving cautiously but with growing confidence.

Throughout the match, Rafe guided you like a pro, his voice always just a step ahead. You learned quickly—taking cover, timing your reloads, using the environment to your advantage—and before you knew it, you were a lot better than you had expected to be.

"Nice shot!" Rafe complimented you as you managed your first headshot, your fingers trembling in excitement as you took down an enemy from a distance.

“Thanks!” you grinned, surprised by how good it felt. “I actually got one?”

“Hell yeah, you did. You're not half-bad for a newbie,” he said, teasing, but there was a hint of admiration in his voice.

The match came to an end, with your team pulling off a narrow victory. The satisfaction of winning, even in your rookie status, was unmatched. As the post-game stats flashed across the screen, you couldn't help but feel proud of your performance, especially after Rafe’s guidance.

"First time playing and you’re already carrying the team," Rafe said, sounding impressed. "You sure you're a newbie?"

You laughed. "Totally. If you had seen me at the start, you’d know how lost I was."

“Don’t worry, we’ve all been there.” Rafe’s tone softened, and you could hear a smile in his voice. "You sure you don’t wanna team up again sometime? Could show you some more tricks of the trade."

You hesitated, the idea of playing again with someone as skilled as him both exciting and intimidating. But then again, he’d already shown he was patient with you.

"Yeah, I'd like that. Maybe I can return the favor next time," you said, feeling more confident than you had when you first started the match.

“Deal,” Rafe replied, his voice smooth with that easy confidence. "Till next time, (Y/N)."

© 2025 rafeskai | All rights reserved. My work is a work of fiction inspired by different characters, and no part of it may be reproduced or distributed without permission.

[yamumsyadadd]

the forgotten girl (11)

originally posted on my old account. Trip loading twice weekly :)

Alexia’s pov 

“Ale please stay. Don’t leave me, please.” Hearing her beg for me not to leave her broke my heart. 

“I’ll be right back bebé, I’m just getting some water.” 

Alba and Mami were sitting on couch when it went out to the kitchen. 

“She asked me not to leave, so I’m going to go back in there. You should go home. Thank you for your help.” I set back off to Amelia’s room. The heart breaking scene of her curled into a ball, her eyes red and swollen, and the sound of sniffles through the air. 

I put her phone on charge and her water bottle on her bed side table, quickly making my way to the other side of the bed and climbing in. Pulling her into my arms and holding her until she fell asleep. After she had been asleep for half an hour, I messaged Keira and Lucy. Telling them I had Mil and asked them to come to her apartment. I didn’t know what to do. Im not good with my own emotions, and helping someone who is so deeply hurt is new to me. 

Keira Walsh: I’m here. Let me in please. 

Reluctantly, I got up, slowly in hopes to not wake Mil. The afternoon sun has lit up the apartment, it was bright and golden, a solemn contrast to the way Mils room felt. Opening the door, I was shocked to see someone else with Keira. Leah Williamson. 

“Hi Alexia.” The England captain shyly said. I opened the door further to let both women in. 

“Sorry, I thought it would be best to call Leah. She knows everything that happened with Milly and she got on the first flight here.” I nodded my head in understanding, that was smart in Keira’s behalf. 

“Is she asleep?” 

“Yeah. She was at the beach surfing and Mami bought us back here. She was just sitting in the shower with boiling water on her, she looked.” I had to take a second to compose myself, I would not be crying in front of Leah. “She looked broken.”

Keira and Leah just looked at each other. Sharing knowing looks and then Leah spoke up. 

“She said she loved you, right? That’s what caused this?” 

“Yes.” 

“I think we should all sit down. You need to hear this Alexia.” 

There were a few things in this world that make me anxious. Meeting my sisters new girlfriends, doing interviews in English, teenage boys and Amelia Higgins. 

“Okay so obviously you know the public details of what happened with Emily and her?” 

“Si” 

“Emily was going to end things. She had written down on a piece of paper everything she wanted to say. Basically consisted of that she was still in love with Mil. Mil was still her favourite person and that Mil was her soulmate, but Emily wasn’t hers.”

“Right? Okay?”

“Emily always knew that Mils heart didn’t completely belong to her. I think she hoped that over time it would change but it never did. Mil has always loved you.” 

I didn’t say anything. This was a lot to take in, her own friends telling me she has always loved me? What could’ve happened if I had said something earlier? Ended things with Jenni earlier? 

“Ale.” Keira grabbed my hands, taking my attention away from ripping my nails off. “She doesn’t want to love you because she’s scared. After being given the note, she blamed herself. Mil thinks she caused this. She doesn’t want anything to happen to you or to your family. If you truly love her like I think you do, you’ll need to let her come to you. There’s nothing more I want than to see you both happily together but that won’t happen unless she comes to you.” 

“I’ll wait for her. I don’t care how long it takes but I won’t leave her.” 

We didn’t talk after that, the sun started setting and they were talking about ordering food for dinner. 

“I think I’m going to go home. I think it’ll, uh, it’ll be better if I’m not here when she wakes up.” 

Before Leah or Keira could reply, Amelia yelled out from the bedroom.

“Alexia? Alexia? Fuck ale please come back. I need you to come back.” her voice broke, thinking I’d left her when she needed me the most. Running back into the room, I quickly climbed into the bed and pulled her into my chest. 

“No amor. I’m here. I’m not leaving you, okay? I’m here.” I felt her nod her head against my chest, then her tears slowly wet my shirt. I didn’t care about Keira or Leah in the lounge room, all I cared about was Amelia and making sure she felt safe and comfortable. 

Leah came in a short while later, letting me know she would be staying in the spare room and to yell out if either of us needed anything. As I lay there with Amelia’s head on my chest, her arms wrapped tightly around my waist, and mine around hers, the only thing I could think of is how I could get used to this feeling. Selfish I know but it’s the truth. 

By 9pm, the house was completely quiet and dark. Everyone was sleeping or enjoying the peaceful evening. 

As the sun came through Amelia’s bedroom curtains, I felt lighter. Slowly opening my eyes I noticed she wasn’t in the room, the side of the bed she slept in was cold, her phone was gone and her favourite hoodie and wetsuit that hung on the back of her door. She was surfing. Of course. Deciding now was the best time to leave and go back to my own house, I quickly made her bed, opened her bedroom window and got the bottles of water to put in the bin. 

I had forgotten Leah was there, Keira seemingly had come too. 

“Morning capi” Keira handed over coffee. 

“Gracias.” Inhaling the smell of coffee before taking the first sip. 

“Is she awake?” Leah jerked her head towards the door. 

“She’s surfing.” No one said anything for a moment. “I’m gonna go. I’ll see you later.” Turning quickly , before either could stop me. 

I sat in my car contemplating what to do, I thought about messaging Alba, but it was too complicated. Mapi was next, but again, complicated. The only person I truly wanted to talk to was Amelia. But I wasn’t sure if she wanted that. Despite the thoughts telling me to leave her alone, I made my way to the beach. Stopping to get her a coffee so she could have it when she got out. 

Since it was still early, it was easy to park and find her stuff. I made myself comfortable and waited. I didn’t have to wait too long because she had noticed me and started making her way back to the shore. 

“I got you a coffee. Caramel latte right?” I asked as I handed it to her. 

“Thanks Ale.” She sat down, closer to me than usual. 

Silence engulfed us. 

“So Leah’s here huh?” She said more as a question than a statement. 

“Yeah. She came last night. Keira rang her apparently and she got on the first flight.” 

“I don’t know how to do this Ale.” She whispered, I turned to look at her, confused. 

“Do what?” 

“Us. It was easier when I lived in England. I didn’t have to see you everyday, be close to you, listen to you laugh at something Mapi said or watch you with Vicky and Jana. I could watch you from a distance, love you from a distance. But now? Now I’m here and it’s almost too much. It’s so-“ 

“Overwhelming?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I feel the same way.” She rested her head on my shoulder, my arm wrapping around her shoulder. 

We stayed like that for a while. It was nice. But it wouldn’t last. 

[miruac]

dating osamu miya - headcanons

masterlist

navigation

warnings: not proofread, extremely self indulgent, minor atsumu cameo, word vomit. disgusting word vomit.

a/n: guys why are we making fun of osamu for liking food...i think its cute...that means hes a chub hub and his love language is probably acts of service also i go feral for slight chub <3

in highschool he acts like he didnt care

the typical stoic guy nonchalant guy

but when it came to you? EHEHEHE HE HAD A LITTLE BLUSH ON HIS FACE

the first time you guys saw each other was after an assembly

you were cleaning up, and coincidentally it was the end of the day

tsumu and osamu were racing to see who enters the gym first and ended up fighting...

tsumu THREW osamu and he landed at your feet...you literally had to nudge him w/ur foot to see if he was still alive

he gave you the nastiest side eye bc he thought you were atsumu 😭

but when he realized you weren't he got up so fast and apologized so quickly

ok moving on i rambled 2 much

during the talking stage he's still a little quiet

like he just listens but he remembers everything

you said you liked how his bento box looked?

he got it for you

you said you use only a certain type of pencil/pen because you like how smooth it is?

he got it for you

everyone writes osamu as if he hogs his lunch but its his lunch!!! he has a right to!!! its his food!!!

he always packs a little extra just for you to have </3

atsumus starts wondering why the food in the house disappears so fast but when he saw you and osamu he immediately understood

you frequented the convenience store down the street, whenever it was during your lunch break of after practice

if osamu had to rank onigiri, it would be his moms and then the convenience store

and that says smth knowing how picky his tastes are...

during games you'd be on the edge of your seat

ok this may be ooc but i literally see him mouthing 'this is for you' before he serves and he winks in your direction

I THINK THATS FUNNY YOU GUYS

surprisingly he didnt miss

atsumu teased the HELL out of him

would always walk you home even if it was out of his way

literally wouldn't leave until he saw you go inside HES SO PROTECTIVE

speaking of protective it deffo helps he's actually six feet not like those posers

will tower over you and any guy who even dares approach you like oh hes behind you? everybody RUNS

his mom LOVES YOU

shes not like those stereotypical boy mothers like she does care for the twins but isnt OVERBEARING

hc that he hugs his mother whenever he comes home after a long day </333 nothing is more comforting than a motherly hug

his mom gives you that same hug WAHHH SHES SO WARM AND CUTE I LOVE MAMA MIYA(hey sounds like mamma mia)

osamu invited you over bc you two had to study and she got so GIDDY LIKE HER SON ISNT BITCHLESS

she cooked up a FEAST that night

and know you know where osamu got his cooking skills from

the entire time atsumu was silent but he was lowk sulking that he got kicked out of his room and no one paid attention to him that night.....

is clingy

he is CLINGY

his love languages are quality time, acts of service, and physical touch

if hes tired or down in the dumps he'll literally slump over on you

he NEEDS to have a hand on you whenever you're together

even if its like as minimal as you guys linking legs when youre sitting on the couch together that satisfies him enough

my shayla....my shayla </3

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

...guys. GUYS. HI!!! im back!!! sorry its been so long, i've actually been so busy with exams and post secondary stuff 😭😭 just recently started rewatching haikyuu during winter break and im back on my osamu brainrot BUT EHEHHEHE HERE WE GO!!!! I HOPE U GUYS LIKE THIS ONE

[penvisions]

return the favor {chapter 26}

Pairing: Post-Outbreak! Joel Miller x Smuggler! Reader

Summary: Your trios journey comes to an end, but what comes next?

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: canon typical language, canon typical violence, description of anxiety, symptoms of anxiety, tense situations, miscommunication, misunderstandings, two idiots in love, kissing, face cradling, gratuitous amounts of fluff, confessions, sappy feels, reunited with lost loved ones, i think that's it

A/N: and that's a wrap on this, y'all!! thank you so so so much for sticking with me on this one, it was my first foray back into writing fanfic and my first ever ppcu fanfic. this one will always be special to be and i am so proud of myself for sticking with it when times got tough, but then again- this truly helped me through a lot of them ♡♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || nagivation || ko-fi

Everything almost seems alright with the world, with the decisions that had been made, with the bonds that had been forged and tested as the gates of Jackson loom in the distance. The people milling about within them, along the massive wall that is a symbol of protection and safety, the land within it ripe with opportunity for a second chance, even in the end of the world. You turn to Joel, who already has his gaze trained on you. Emotion swirling in his eyes, a small lift to the right side of his face that reveals a dimple you knew hid there amid his untamed scruff.

He closes the gap between you, hands reaching for you. His palm is rough on your face as he cups your cheek, but you don’t mind. He searches your eyes, jumping from one to the other and then to the girl standing a bit away and focused on the settlement down the ridge. She’s standing relaxed, her body no longer pulled taut and the weight of what happened no longer burdens her shoulders. She’s a little more reserved, but giggles and jokes can still be drawn out, hands held in moments of rest. Even if they are a bit subdued, it’s a good sign that she’s healing. That you were all healing.

“It’s the best option.” He repeats, the words spoken numerous times when discussing what to do once the skyline had opened up at the crest of the mountain.

“We don’t…we don’t tell anyone.” You speak lowly, not ashamed in the slightest of how things had turned out. You had warned her, but the woman hadn’t wanted to listen then tried to hold you hostage.

“You did what you had to. She had you locked up in a room, she wasn’t gonna to let you go. She wasn’t gonna let you come back to me or rest until Ellie was strapped to that operating table. I believe you, I know you.” His voice is strong, conviction calming you as you even as you feel like there’s something else he wants to say. All you can do is nod, worry easing as you glance over at Ellie as she stares down at the town in the valley. Memories play in your mind and you close your eyes as Joel leans forward to press his lips to your forehead.

Marlene had forced your hand by threatening the lives of those standing with you now. She had threatened your future, their future, the chance of reconnection with your own long-lost family and the one that was forged in the journey across the ravaged land that was the world. Marlene had brought her about her fate, reaching for too much and demanding compliance from someone who had too much to lose.

The explosion had surely taken out everyone she had gathered there, save for the surgeon and his daughter. Whose journals were secured in your bag and had been waiting in the office you had rushed to, his daughter clutched tight to his side as he eyed the calm way you had rushed in there to retrieve it.

He had helped you, seeing the mission clearly for the first time in years. His doubts and stipulations manifested in the questions you posed with such confidence, in the words you lent for him to see the truth in what was attempting to be done. You could only hope that they find peace now, somewhere safe to call home in the ruins of the world. Hell, maybe they’d show up at the very valley you were on the crest of one day.

“We don’t tell anyone.” Joel repeats the words, confirming and agreeing. Seeing the fear of being turned away for your actions. Though not remorseful, the morality of the situation is steeped in shadows. He’s sure Tommy would see it for what it is, but Maria may have a different view, the counsel may have a different view. But there are spaces for you both to fill, for Ellie to occupy. A life for all three of you within the walls, promised to you on your departure.

The gates are open as soon as your figures are spotted across the open field that allows for a good vantage point in front of them. Calls for Tommy, for your cousins, for Maria can all be faintly heard as you near them, cross through them, and they finally shut behind you with a sense of finality to the long journey started so long ago.

One that you had never anticipated beginning but were grateful for all the same.

Ellie is holding tight to your hand, so small in your own as you spy fast movement and tense up. It’s quite the commotion, those close by turning to watch the scene unfold as you and Joel receive quick once overs, you assure Maria and the others on the counsel that came to the front of the town that Ellie was clean as well.

She keeps her hold on you even as your cousins’ approach, breath fast with how they dropped what they were doing and ran to greet you. They both stop just a few feet away, not wanting to startle her or you by throwing themselves into embracing you. It’s still so new, this relationship- this bond that you had failed to set out in search of. Growing too comfortable in Boston and the imitation of life it had provided for years, decades. But Ellie drops your hand and nudges her head toward them with a small smile.

The young girl rushes you, long arms reaching around your neck while her brother embraces you both tightly from the side. Before you’re swathed in their hold, you see Ellie’s eyes fall to her feet, hands shoved into her jean pockets with hunched shoulders.

“We made sure to have a house big enough for you, we would love to help you get settled even if we’re pretty new here ourselves and you’ve been here before.” Adela speaks in a fast manner, excitement obvious as she leans back. It’s so different from the almost spiteful anger you had first seen from her, even more so from the desperate way she had asked you to not leave them after only one afternoon together. She’s holding herself tall, her height and slender limbs giving her an air of grace that she wears well. She truly does look beautiful, long dark tresses and fair skin decorated with freckles about her cheeks. Like her mother, who you hoped at least found peace in her passing.

Angelo is watching with a small smile on his face, glad that his little sister is feeling better- safer in this community when the last one had turned out to be so dangerous. Your heart flutters at the thought of a home, of going to sleep each day in the same bed, the same place. Of waking up in the same bed, same place….beside the same person and he was watching the whole scene.

You could feel the air tense, your cousins not knowing that they inadvertently stepped on one of the loose rocks that line the road you and Joel walk on together. But you hug her back, tightly holding her to you in another embrace. She deserves to have a good life, surrounded by people who love her, care about her, who can protect her. You’d try your damn best to give that to her, grateful that they had safely made the journey here so you could all get to be a family. “We can talk about it, okay?”

You wanted to talk with them both, to learn what they had been doing, how they had managed to make it this far- twenty years and counting after Outbreak day. Because not everyone did and you feel their loss every single day.

“We’ve got a good house for you two, nice porch out front and a converted garage in the backyard. If that is something that would be needed.” Maria speaks up, noticing the way Ellie isn’t holding anyone’s gaze and the slightly stilted air that’s cropped up at your cousin’s words. When your eyes find the man, he’s got a front on, but you can see the tension he’s holding in his body. You’ve traveled with him, laid with him, fought and protected him as he’s done for you. You know him- and he’s not happy.

“I think, for now, we all need to get a good meal in our bellies. It’s…it’s been canned food military food packs.” Joel speaks up, voice rough gravel, his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows thickly, hands reaching for one of yours to tangle his fingers with for a brief moment. Your stomach flips as you realize everyone caught the action. Maria ducking her head to hide her knowing smirk and Tommy grinning like a god damn kid with a new toy.

“How’d ya manage to get those?” Tommy barks a laugh that sounds so much like Joel’s it both warms and breaks your heart. Their paths couldn’t have diverted more, but you’re happy they found each other. They can begin to heal the rift that you hadn’t realized ran so deep, Maria helping to shine a light on it when Joel was less than talkative.

“Well, it all started with some lab monkeys…” And your words are like magic, Joel and Ellie’s lips turning up at one side while your cousins eyes widen. Despite the…rather unfortunate reality of having to choose who to live with everyone you loved was here, they were safe- and that was all that mattered as you all made your way to the mess hall.

You reach for Ellie’s hand again, linking them and following the mish mash of people that make up your family, people from Joel’s world and people from yours. The perfect blend, the perfect start to a new beginning not only for you and him and them, but for the girl who didn’t have a family. You looked over at her and pressed a kiss to her temple when you saw how glassy her eyes were. She had been alone for so long, but she was surrounded by people now.

It’s late, the sun officially set and you’ve settled on the back porch with Maria, she’s heavily pregnant and off of patrol duties for the time being. Committing her time to helping organize and plan things for the town through the end of the spring season. She’s glowing and you feel self-conscious as she carefully shapes the mess that is your ragged hair. Most strands were long enough to still put up in a bun, but it was choppy and dull from the jarring cut you had made and the dirty blade you had used.

He's showered, steel hair slicked back and a thick robe pulled over a pair of plaid pajama bottoms and plain shirt. He looks good, if not a little nervous as he seems to glance up the street in the direction you would’ve come from his brother’s house.

But you had taken a longer route, walking past the stables and pet the horses that were milling in the walk about pen. Now though…you think it’s time.

As soon as your feet turn on the street, Joel’s head turns in your direction. The streetlight just across from it catches the shine of your own washed hair, the copper strands already looking so much better.

He’s standing, stepping to the stairs that lead up the porch as you approach. Lips pursed ever so slightly and giving away the anxiety you know must be thrumming just underneath his skin.

“Darlin’, been waiting up for you.”

“Sorry, Joel…was just taking a moment.”

“You know you don’t need to apologize for that.” His hands are clenching into fists and then unclenching in a slow motion at his sides, one of the traits he had picked up to stretch out his broken hand as it healed. Or so you had thought, it was a tick of his, you eventually realized. And you hate that he’s so consumed by emotion to be exhibiting it now.

“I…um…I wanted to talk to you actually.”

“Was wonderin’ if we could chat?”

You both speak at the same time, voices layering over each other.

“You’re gonna stay with them, aren’t you?” It’s not an accusation, not in the slightest. But it’s almost a resignation as his voice drops in volume. Not being able to stand the sadness you see in his features, you take the steps quickly and stand on the one below the deck of the porch and reach for his hands. They’re warm from the mug he had been holding. Scars littering them and the one from the first night of the journey that led here looks irritated, no doubt the humidity still fading from the air.

“They’re my family, Joel.” You take a deep breath, chest warm and cheeks tingling. “But you and Ellie are too. You all mean so much to me. If…if I were to stay here, I wouldn’t want to do it as friends.”

The quiet that falls is heavy, tension thick in the air.

And then he’s suddenly hauling you up onto the porch and into his arms, lips pressing to yours as he holds you tightly to him. Your stomach swoops, your heart rachets against the inside of your ribs and you can’t help but smile into the kiss as you wrap your own arms around his neck. He’s passionate as he keeps pressing kiss after kiss to your lips, hands coming up to cradle the back of your head and the small of your back. He can feel the tremors of your muscles as you arch into him.

When you part to catch your breath, the words you’ve held onto tight surge up as you gaze into the beautiful brown of someone who you only caught sightings of once upon a time. There was no way to anticipate the turn of events that altered the entire trajectory of your life- leaving you standing here in front of him with endless praise and love.

But he beats you to it, his own lips pressing together as he takes a deep breath to center himself, hands holding you tight and eyes looking right back at you as you look up at him.

“I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you. You’ve been a tremendous help since we ran into you all those months ago, me and Ellie…I don’t know where we would be right now without you. I…Bean, I love you.”

Heat takes over your entire chest, blooming there as you feel happiness you never thought you’d feel again, life granting you another chance to experience something good.

“Well, guess I should return the favor then and tell you I love you too.”

He’s licking the words out of your mouth the second their out, striking arousal up your spine like a match being lit. He murmurs your name between devouring kisses, and between it all you feel like you’ve made it home. Like you can begin to create a safe life here with the man who Joel Miller blossomed into on the journey it took to get here.

previous chapter || end

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[kyokutsu-sama]

Hiiii how are you doing my dear? I hope that you're taking care of yourself and not overworking yourself 😊 it's my first time requesting so I'm sorry if I didn't do it right english is not my mother language so sorry 😭 anyway I just want to put this idea in here because it was stuck in my head for a while and I really love your writing it always makes my day better everytime I read one of your works, so the thought is bleach men (especially kenpachi this thought come in the first place because of him😭) having a cute aggression everytime they see their wife because damn how a woman can be this cute and pretty all the time that they can't help themselves 😭😭(plz take your time and don't overwork yourself you can ignore it if you want it's ok I just want to tell you how much I love you and your work 🥺💗🫂).

Hi!! @thebestgirlever2 I'm doing very well and I hope you're doing well too. First of all, your English is very good and don't worry because English is not my native language either and secondly, I'm very happy that you like my work here. It motivates me a lot and thank you for your affection🥹❤️❤️

So here's the thing, at this moment I wasn't writing for the Bleach fandom but I decided to make some exceptions (as I also mentioned in the post about requests) and since it's also your first time making a request, I decided to write it.

I hope this is what you had in mind and I hope you like it😊 I wrote to my big boys just to see their hearts soften with so much cuteness🤭

Characthers : Kenpachi, Shunsui, Kensei, Grimmjow

🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️🔸️

Kenpachi :

Our giant and brute Kenpachi was constantly in an internal battle when he saw you do something. Even if it was the simplest thing in the world, his heart would melt because he found you so cute. He didn't usually admit it out loud even though you were his wife, but your expression, your looks, everything was so clear that everyone could see it. Yachiro pointed it out several times, but he just made a face and grumbled. "Y/n is so cute and you know it too. Admit it!" She said, pulling on the sleeve of his kimono trying to get his attention "Yes, she really is." He thought, looking at the girl and seeing her playful air

Yumichika and Ikkaku also noticed the way he blushed slightly when you greeted him with a smile that made his heart of stone melt and made the man's bloodlust dry up. Deep down, he liked this effect on him. One day he was sitting on the porch watching you tend to some flowers in the garden. Your hands were small and soft compared to his, which were large and calloused, your face so focused and fragile as you worked, your long, flowery sundress that matched the garden around you. He clenched his fist, feeling angry at all the cuteness in front of him. "How is it possible to be so..." He thought, trying to restrain himself from going to you and picking you up, hugging you and holding you close to him But the voices in his head won out and he got up and went to do what his thoughts wanted. You got up and suddenly saw a large silhouette blocking the sun and when you turned around you saw him with his usual serious face, but little did you know that he was finding you so cute now. "Oh Kenpachi, you were there! I didn't even realize that--" You hadn't finished speaking and he was already lifting you off the ground for a hug and squeezing you in his arms. "Kenny, what are you doing?!" You said breathlessly due to the squeeze. "Nothing." He said, pulling your face away from his chest for a moment to show you an innocent look "Nothing? You're crushing me against you." You giggled "What? You looked really cute just now." He said, rolling his eyes and you laughed "Oh! Looks like my arrogant giant is finally letting his guard down. How cute!" You poked his cheek and he turned his face away "Shut up." He grumbled and you smiled

Shunsui :

He just can't stand it. You look so beautiful and so cute in everything you do, in the way you walk and even the way you breathe. He never makes a point of hiding how cute you are and how important you are to him. Your gentleness and your smile were what captivated him the most. Nanao was already fed up with having to hear him praise you, every five minutes. "Yes, Captain, you've said that several times." She sighed, rolling her eyes. "No, I don't think you understand. She's wonderfully cute." He said again "Here we go again..." One day he was coming home after work (not that he really did much besides drinking sake and sleeping) and when he entered the room and saw you sleeping so deeply in bed, wrapped in the sheets, so quiet and asleep, his heart melted. "My petal looks so cute, sleeping like an angel." He said with both hands on his chest and with a little laugh He approached you, caressing your sleeping face, wanting to pinch your cheeks after an episode of 'cute aggression' but he restrained himself not to wake you up. "How can she be so cute." He thought He took off his flowery kimono and lay down next to you, pulling you close to him in a tight hug, distributing kisses from your shoulders to your cheeks. You moved a little and he stopped immediately. "No, no, no! Go back to sleep, don't wake up, you're sleeping very well. Very very well, petal." He said, caressing your face and you, still asleep, turned to him to hug him "That's right, dear. I don't want to wake you up."He said, giving you one last kiss on the cheek before going back to sleep Damn, I already missed writing a little about him😭

Grimmjow:

This man definitely changed from a panther to a kitten when he met you. And after marriage, it intensified. He still remembers the way you were always pushing his buttons and the way he lost his mind when you did it, but later he realized that he didn't have the courage to do anything about it. Yes, he would grumble and tell you to shut the fuck up, but he wouldn't yell or insult you. You had an effect on him that started to irritate him in the early days, but after he realized that he was in love, he started to feel more at ease. Of course, he was still too proud to admit that you were so cute, but so cute that he just wanted to hug you close to him and give you a ton of bites (love bites cause he's a kitty🐈). One day you were in the kitchen preparing something to eat when you heard the front door open. Grimmjow was mad after having crossed paths with Ichigo. His rival. "That idiot, I swear, one day I'm going to beat the shit ou of that son of a b--" He entered the kitchen, furious, screaming, and when he was going to punch the wall to release his anger, he noticed that you were standing there in the corner and his fist was only a few inches from the wall, which prevented it from being destroyed. Seeing you so quiet and cute, looking at him made him quickly recover and look away in embarrassment. You also couldn't help but be curious to know what had made him like that. Deep down you knew that it had probably been something very trivial because it didn't take much to make this man angry. "Are you okay?" You asked, approaching him. "You seem a little angry right now. Did something happen?" "No, it's okay, don't worry. It's all sorted out." "Seriously? Because it really seemed like you cross paths with Ichigo again." "Oh, don't say that name..." He growled, closing his eyes and clenching his fists "Okay, okay, I won't say the name again. Fine!" You said, raising your hands in surrender "Thanks." "But other than that, how was your day? Did you need anything? Are you feeling tired?" You said with a smile that made his heart soften and his tough personality fall He stared at you for a while, admiring your expression and you looked at him a little confused by his silence. "Is everything okay?" You poked his cheek and he nodded before pulling you into a tight hug "Stay here for at least five minutes, okay?" He asked and you nodded against his chest You didn't know what had made him do that so suddenly, but one thing was for sure, it was all he wanted at that moment to be able to calm down.

Kensei :

Another one who has a tough personality but always has a cute aggression attack when you pass by him or you've only been together for five minutes. Mashiro used to tease him about it when she noticed it. "You and Y/n make a really cute couple. I can see how you look at her and your cheeks get blushed. But Kensei, you two are already married, why do you keep blushing like a teenager?" She said, laughing at him and he clenched his fist, one of his eyes twitching and feeling a vein bulging in his neck "Shut up you idiot! Stop teasing me!!" He yelled and she laughed even harder seeing that she had managed to get him out of his mind Deep down, he knew she was right. You really got to him even though you two were married. He looked at you and always thought you were cute. One day he was coming home and saw you sitting on the couch watching TV, but as he got closer he saw that you were sleeping sitting up. You probably ended up falling asleep watching TV while you waited for him. He felt a little guilty about it, but it was his job. As much as he wanted to be close to you, it was hard sometimes. He turned off the TV and took the pillow that was on your lap, picking you up bridal style, slowly so you wouldn't wake up. When he got to the bedroom, he put you on the bed and that's when you woke up, seeing him sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at you. "Did I wake you up?" He asked "I let myself fall asleep in the living room, didn't I?" You asked, yawning "Yes, and I brought you back to the bedroom. I'm sorry I was late." He said, running his hand over your face and looking away "It's okay, love. I know it's your job. I wanted to wait for you, but I couldn't. I ended up falling asleep." You held his hand He looked at you and seeing your sweet smile and the way you were always so understanding, made him want to hug you and not let go until the next day. "Come to sleep, you look tired." You said he just nodded, taking off his clothes and lying down next to you "Come here." He pulled you to him and held you in a tight hug against him, letting out a long sigh. "This is what I needed." He whispered and you patted his arm "Kensei, I can't breathe properly." Your voice was muffled by the closeness and that was when he released you a little so you could breath properly. "I'm sorry, honey, it's just that you... seemed too cute just now." He confessed with a blush on his face and you giggled "You too, your cheeks are blushing." You pointed and he hugged you again so you wouldn't see. "Kensei." You fidgeted "Shut up." He grumbled

[anzynai]

Nothing Special

Scaramouche & Lumine (Genshin)

a/n: first fic of the year so i couldnt start it off with just anything. happy birthday scara!!! ur like my second favorite character and i surprisingly havent written for you that much (i know right?? 💔💔) anyways, he might be ooc since i dont write for him a lot but i hope its not too bad. disregard any typos you might see as well. someone needs to tickle him BAD. this was supposed to be posted later today but im impatient so youre welcome i guess. ANYWAYYYY i hope u guys enjoy <33333

summary: it’s scara’s birthday. tickles ensue.

wordcount: 1.5k

——

Scaramouche’s birthday had never been anything special to him. It was nothing but another day of the year. He couldn’t count how many of them he spent crying or alone. Or both.

Eventually, he became used to being alone. Instead of feeling sad or upset, he felt nothing.

He sat against the tree, reading a book he had gotten from the library at the Akademiya. He was barely a quarter in when a small bird flew atop of it, lightly pecking at his finger.

He stopped. Blinked.

“..Hello,” He muttered. The bird looked at him, chirping in response.

It hopped from the book to his wrist, its wings fluttering as it continued up his arm. Scara almost couldn’t help the smile that found its way onto his face as the bird finally perched on his shoulder, leaning against his neck.

“I suppose you can stay here. As long as you let me finish reading this,” He said to the bird. Again, another chirp, as if it actually understood.

He looked back at his book, only getting about two words in when..

“Oh, there you are!” He heard a voice calling out to him. As he was in the middle of nowhere, it was likely him who was being called. He looked to his right and lo and behold, it was the traveler walking towards him with a blue and green decorative box in her hands.

“..Hi,” Scara, the man of many words, said.

“Hi,” Lumine giggled, her expression bright as she walked up to the other. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Oh, then you must have really needed me,” Scara replied.

Without saying anything, Lumine handed him the box in her hands. It didn’t take a genius to assume what it was. “A gift?”

“Happy birthday, Scara!” Lumine exclaimed, clapping along to her words.

Scara ignored the flutter in his chest, heart warmed by the gesture, but he kept his face straight and controlled. Sometimes, he felt as though the traveller could tell what he was feeling because she tended to notice even the smallest cues.

Instead of focusing on that, he focused on pulling the ribbon from the gift, pulling open the box.

From inside it, he pulled out a small bag of the only candy he really had ever liked. Taking a curious glance at Lumine, he could notice how it looked like it pained even her to give him black licorice. For the sake of his birthday, she stayed silent. It was an amusing sight, perhaps even better than the candy itself, Scara thought to himself.

Inside, there was also a small stuffed doll that resembled him too much to be a coincidence. “Is this.. me?”

“Yeah, it was custom-made by me and a few others. What do you think?”

He got the urge to feel for the other doll he has in his pocket, so he does. He took it out, comparing the two.

“Now your doll has a playmate,” Lumine giggled to herself. It sounds childish, like being gifted a doll.

And yet, he found he liked it quite a bit. His lip quirked up just slightly, but Lumine caught the action anyway, if the gleam in her eyes had anything to say.

As if it was excited, the bird chirped gleefully in his ear, nuzzling and poking at his neck. “H-heheey! You stop that,” Scara gasped, scrunching his neck.

“You’re ticklish?” Lumine asked, cupping her hands over her mouth and suddenly, he felt a bit embarrassed.

“…Not at all,” He answered, lying.

“Really?” She tilted her head, staying silent for a moment that lingered too long to be anything but suspicious. Then a second later, she had this scary looking smirk that Scara found he didn’t particularly know where this was going. “So you won’t laugh or anything if I do this?”

The ‘this’ in question was Lumine quickly reaching out to grab his sides before he could stop her, squeezing gently. He flinched, unprepared and a blush arose on his pale skin.

“Lumine—“

“Ah, you lied,” Lumine tutted. “Birthday or not, don’t you think you deserve some form of punishment?”

Where was the almost too kind Lumine and who replaced her?

“Don’t you d-AHAHARE— stohop!” Scara felt his sides being kneading into some more, sensitive tingles spreading throughout his body unbearably. It was a feeling that was once foreign to him, but has since found himself quite found in these past months since meeting Nahida and a few others who insisted on bothering him each time they crossed paths. He hated to say that even then, he quite enjoyed their presence. He never realized how nice it was not being alone.

“You’re so cute! Who’d have thought you’d be so ticklish?” Lumine cooed, in a way where he couldn’t tell if she was teasing or didn’t realize the effect of her words. Her quick and nimble fingers found his ribs, lightly grazing and tracing over each rib. Like a piano, his laughter rose the higher she got. The bird, seemingly encouraged, began pecking gently against his neck again, causing him to scrunch up more, bringing his knees up to himself.

He felt the urge to kick out, but resisted with all his might, not particularly wanting to hurt Lumine or the bird.

“S-stohohop thihihis..!” He sputtered, trying to bite his lip to conceal his laughter, which apparently had the success rate of 0% if the fact that there was still laughter pouring from his lips was anything to go by.

“Should I give you some mercy for your birthday?”

“Luhuhumine! Y-you…!” Scara could barely say anything when she started digging into his underarms, a spot that he hadn’t known was so sensitive until recently.

“Yes? No? I need an answer,” Lumine sighed, slowly and dramatic. Scara wanted to roll his eyes, but he was a bit too distracted to pull off the action effectively.

He curled in on himself, his arms clamped to his sides, but Lumine was always stronger than she appeared, able to tickle him anyway. He felt much weaker by the tickling, which he was sure also helped give her the advantage.

“O-ohohokay, yehehes! Nohoho mohohore!” Scara shouted, at last, feeling overwhelmed by the ticklish sensations. Lumine relented, giggling proudly at herself. The bird continued pecking softly at his neck for a few more seconds, residual giggles falling from the wanderer’s lips. Eventually, it hopped onto his cupped hands.

“That was fun,” She admitted. “I don’t get to tickle people often, but I like making them laugh,” She added, with a sort-of melancholic look in her eye. Scara didn’t ask, getting the sense that she didn’t want to talk about it.

“For you, maybe,” He replied, to keep up appearances, but a part of him was already craving more.

“Now come on,” She stood, holding out her hand for him to grab. “Let’s go.”

“Go?” He asked, because he didn’t realize he was supposed to be anywhere.

“I’m not letting you spend your birthday alone—“ The bird chirped at that. “Okay, mostly alone, with your nose in a book. I’m taking you out to eat. My treat.” She insisted, flexing her fingers to urge him to grab her hand. This time, he took it.

He walked with her to a restaurant that he had always seen, but had always walked past. The second the doors opened, he squinted his eyes at the darkness.

“Are you sure this place is—“

“Surprise!” Multiple voices shouted out at once and the light flickered on. Confetti shot into the air, popping loudly.

Adjusting to the light, he saw that there were more people than he thought, all of them which he recognized as people he had, “against his will” he often claimed, became quite acquainted with.

Sethos. Nahida. Paimon. Tighnari and Cyno, as well as Kaveh and Alhaitham, the two pairs seemingly a package deal at gatherings like this. There was also Nilou and Collei. Even though he would never admit it, he had grew quite fond of each of them, getting along with him much better than he thought he was capable of.

“Happy birthday!” each of them congratulated him, and he mumbled his thanks in a bit of a daze. The tips of his ears were hot and no matter what he did, he couldn’t stop it.

“How are you feeling?” Lumine smiled next to him, as everyone chatted with one another. He heard Kaveh and Alhaitham bickering with each other as Nilou giggled at the sight. Collei and Sethos seemed to be engaged in conversation as well and Tighnari seemed to be miserable as Cyno tried to tell everyone bad joke after bad joke.

He grumbled. “There’s quite a bit of people here,” He replied. Lumine turned to look at him. “But I guess company like this isn’t so bad once in a while. So.. thank you.” He admitted, feeling himself turn a way, feeling a bit flustered as he fidgeted with his doll in his pocket.

Lumine chuckled beside him.

Thank you. He thought to himself. Maybe my birthday can be something special if I get to spend it with all of you.

[wombywoo]

i know you have probably been asked this so many times — but what brushes do you typically use? any helpful videos i can reference to get portraits and overall realism sketching down, maybe ones that you used starting out? or just.. tips overall?

artists like you and m0cktails really inspire me to try and pursue a different route with my art, one that was totally unexpected but pleasantly rewarding when i tried it out!!! you have a great eye for features and overall composition of a piece, i started being a fan due to your ghostsoap art but i honestly think ive started to like seeing your OCs too haha

please don’t feel pressured to answer i know i kind of asked a lot!!

Hey there! I've briefly reviewed some of the brushes I use in some posts here and here! For the most part, I stick to one standard brush, as well as the airbrush and some other 'effect' brushes as I need them. I'm a photoshop devotee, unfortunately 😔, so a lot of my process is futzing around with their admittedly stellar editing tools

Truthfully, I don't have any concrete tips or videos for this sort of thing. I started out as a pencil artist, doing more and more realistic portraits the better I got, and then eventually turned to digital art (a bit reluctantly) So a lot of that was just self-taught; finding my own way how to implement certain techniques, and amassing a foundation that would allow me to draw all the stuff in my brain, lol

As for advice--I'd say to learn how to evolve out of your comfort zone. It's good to know what type of style or subject matter you feel you're best at--this is a natural inclination most artists have, and it informs the pieces your mind wants to create. But try pushing the limits of what you think might be 'too tedious' or 'too advanced'. More often than not, the thing holding your art back is that gut instinct of 'I can't do this, so why bother trying'. I used to feel this way about hands (enemy of the state, confirmed) And yeah, the easy cop-out is to just shove them all in pockets or behind backs etc. But in learning how to overcome that obvious challenge, I grew to really appreciate the way a hand can shape a composition. In fact, I have to hand it to--💥 ✋

Anyway! My next bit of 'advice' would be to go absolutely bonkers nuts with references. Don't listen to any fraud or fool who says using references is cheating !!!!! They lie!!!!! I swear, my art only looks the way it does because I am a reference hound who spends hours and hours on google/pinterest/stock sites for the perfect angle of the perfect pose, just so I can relate it to the image I have in my head.

For realism--look at real stuff! This sounds dumb, but it helps. Start paying closer attention to people around you; their faces, the way the light accents certain things, unique features, etc. I'd suggest figure studies if that's something you're into (I don't do studies, personally, because I just jump into massive pieces and can't do anything simple 😅 welp) but it does help immensely to study humans in real life and try to translate that onto the page

So yeah. Tbh, the best method for improving art is to simply DO IT. And the fact that you're seeking out further advice and tips means that you have some motivation--so use it! Hope this helps <3

[biibini]

steady eyes ‧ ♡*.✧

instances of mizu staring at you

tags: modern!mizu x f!reader, nsfw, more brat/teasing reader, eye contact, taigen frat bro makes another appearance, public teasing, sweet talk + dirtyyyy talk, neck kisses, mizu strapped asf

a/n: got inspired by this post analyzing her smiles… but like in a more silly way :P reqs coming out soon once im back home from break!

18+ content ahead!

modern!mizu loves to stare at you, whether its intentional or not

a quick glance or a longing, enamored gaze

during the first few dates with you, she would end up looking at you, her eyes slowly flicking up & down, a few times throughout the night

ima be honest she does the triangle method without even realizing it: look at left eye, lips, and then right eye

with the nerves and all, you ended up pointing it out and asked

“Is there something on my face?”

Mizu’s eyes met yours across the dining table, now alert and somewhat confused.

“What?”

“I asked if there’s something on my face.”, you repeated.

“Oh… um… there’s nothing.”, she responded with uncertainty.

Mizu looked down again, as her cheeks began to warm up. Thankfully, the flickering table candles shielded her flushed face.

“You just…look so beautiful.”

after that, you start to notice how long she stares at your lips without her even realizing it

modern!mizu has gotten caught staring at you when you change

not in a creepy way but more in a ‘wow my girlfriend looks so good’ way

when you pass by, she loves to place her hand around your hip, pulling you just a little closer to her

“Mizu! I need to go to class.”

“Mmhmm.”, she says, lazily reaching out, barely pulling your hips closer to her.

It just so happened that the space between the closet and the bathroom was close to Mizu’s side of the bed.

“Let goooo, or I’ll be late.”, you playfully argued as the feeling of her grip loosened.

You hear her groan, slowly stirring away. As nice it would be to sleep in and cuddle with Mizu until the late morning, you unfortunately needed to lock into this class.

And unfortunately leave Mizu behind.

While doing your skincare, you feel a pair of eyes staring at you from your side. You wipe your face with a towel, hoping to find that it was nothing but an after thought.

Nope. Not at all.

You find Mizu half awake, lazily watching you get ready. You smile, ushering her to go back to sleep.

“Honey, I’m just getting ready. Just stay in bed.”

She nods in response, yet still continues to watch you prepare for the day. Today’s class was more formal than usual due to the 2 guests speakers. That meant looking somewhat put together and somewhat professional.

With some combing and styling and face beating, you were able to leave your hair looking put together, almost ready for a professional interview. The last part was putting on your clothes.

At this point, Mizu was awake than ever, now sitting upright, watching her pretty girl get ready for class.

“Need help?”, Mizu asked, hoping to help with a button or two.

You come over to the bed, half naked with only underwear and a button-up on.

“Do you mind helping me button my shirt? I really need to rush out soon.”

Mizu quietly sat up on the bed, now on her knees to be able to button your top, hiding away the small marks she had made the night before. As you zipped up the long skirt, Mizu places her lips, leaving gentle kisses by the nape of your neck.

“You look…”

A soft peck.

“so good and…”

Another soft peck.

“honey, smell so good.”

Yeah, forget about going to class to find the optimal spot. You were barely late by 30 seconds, arriving in a swift rush of adrenaline from a quick pre-lecture make out session.

modern!mizu ‘s eyes tend to wander a lot too

in public, it’s mainly small glances to your face, chest, maybe behind from time to time…

she thinks she’s slick, casually checking out her girl, making sure she’s all safe and totally not glancing for something… right?

wrong!

you’re aware of this too btw.

that’s why you didn’t wear anything underneath before a party one night.

it was the usual house party hosted by taigen and his brothers: loud, obnoxious, great music to deafen everyone to the point where you need to speak into each others ears just to hear one another

typically, mizu and you would arrive a bit early with ringo, help set up, chill in the living room, and then leave when akemi got too tired or bored

this night, the living room ended up being the epicenter of the party, forcing you to sit atop of mizu’s lap with nothing but a top and a short, flowy skirt.

it wasn’t too tight or revealing. however, when sat on, it proved otherwise.

You sunk into Mizu’s lap as she lays back on the couch, sitting comfortably atop of her, letting your arm wrap behind her. As you planted yourself atop, Mizu felt something otherwise. Besides the feeling of your side wrapped by her arm, a warmth started to ignite atop of her lap.

Mizu looks down, finding your skirt lifted towards her, and a lack of a panty strap. Or any kind of strap at all.

Flustered, she immediately flipped your skirt down, shielding your hidden secret away from others. With a free hand, she pulls your leg close, caressing up and down your thigh. You feel the ridges of her hand stroke up and down your thigh, inching closer to your heated epicenter. Although her hand strokes were soft and gentle, the latter hand proved otherwise. You feel her grip on your hip tighten, sending one clear message to you: she knows and loves your little surprise.

You pull yourself closer to Mizu, staying at earshot distance as the beats thumped against the walls, the yells and noise of the crowd blended into a white noise.

“Like what you feel?”, you whispered into her ear, slyly shifting back and forth against her pants.

No one but her noticed the feeling. Everyone else was minding their own business.

Mizu’s mind can handle pressure. It has worked well countless of times on the road, at school, against Taigen, or in any other dangerous situations. It’s totally not the most ideal thing to control when her girlfriend is being a tease in public.

Her grip on your thighs now tighten, attempting to stay calm. The heat of her palm keeps your legs together, safe in her grip. Her hand by your hip pulls you close, your ears now in range of her voice.

“Do you want to test me?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?”, she scoffs, playfully mocking your response, “I’m not sure that’s the right answer, honey.”

You feel her grip on your thigh inch upward, practically centimeters away from your throbbing entrance. She then pulls back, tapping on your thigh as a signal to get off.

You stand up, carefully pulling down your skirt around the others who were too deep into n their own conversations, or too deep in each others throats. Right behind you stood Mizu, one casually placed hand by your hip, and the other more carefully gripping your ass check, giving it a firm squeeze before the leaving the party.

“Let’s figure it out back at home, hmm?”

after getting fucked out all night, i think you’ve learned your lesson with her

from getting fingered in the backseat to filled on the bed to moaning out her name as she ate you out, you promised yourself to never tease her that much ever again

unless you wanted to see god

modern!mizu ‘s eye contact during sex is intense

especially when you’re below her, taking her all in, she’s focused on observing your reaction

she can’t help but stare

and maybe the way your boobs jiggle is another factor too

You feel her eyes glaze down your body, ocean blue eyes taking in the sight of you getting fucked out by none other than a strap of hers. She easily penetrates you again, swiftly entering, lubricated by your liquids. She fills you up, her grip on your waist tightening from how wet you are, your cum smeared all over her thighs.

You groan out her name, grasping onto the sheets with every thrust. Looking up, you meet her gaze, orbs shimmering a light blue against the moonlight. She swiftly enters you again, fully enveloping in your throbbing mess, making your back arch in response. You feel her eyes stay glued to your body, as she rapidly sped up each thrust, further exploring every inch of your insides.

“M-Mizu…”, you moan as she continued to drill your insides.

“Mm, hon, you’re doing so well”, she cooed, cupping one of your boobs with your hands, her grip now loosening on your waist.

You feel her thrusts slow a little, as she gently began to squeeze the softness, her palm warming up against your hardened nipple. Her thumb caresses it, softening the surrounding skin with a circular motion. She enters you deeply, every thrust making the boob in her hand bounce without any handiwork.

Mizu curses to herself, still in awe of how beautiful you are as she watches your reaction, listening to every groan and moan hoping to milk out of you throughout the night.

modern!mizu enjoys waking up earlier than you

everything is at peace when you’re asleep

if you’re more of a heavy sleeper, she doesn’t mind watching over you while quietly sipping some morning tea

if you’re more of a light sleeper, she’ll attempt to slip away with without waking u up. if u do end up stirring awake, she’d tell u to go back to sleep, promising to come back soon

no matter how messy you may look, she likes the peace and quiet whenever she gets the chance to buy breakfast in bed for you two

either way, she’ll be quietly watching over you until you arise :)

[nalua93]

Well, this got a lot more attention and votes than I anticipated. Thank you so much to everyone who voted. Seems that most of us like our slowburns somewhere in between a little and a medium roast. :D

As a thank you here is a snippet of something I have already written for this fic. I'll probably start regularly posting the full thing somewhere between the end of january and end of february.

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

Arthur isn’t surprised when the guards arrest him and bring him to the dungeons. He had gone against his father’s orders. He had known there would be consequences for that and he had been ready to accept them the moment he decided to go after the flower in the first place.

The fact that the man refuses to deliver the flower to Gaius on the other hand feels like a slap to the face.

“You have to learn, there is a right and a wrong way to do things. I’ll see you let out in a week.” Uther crushes the flower in his hand and lets it carelessly drop on the dungeon floor as he walks out. “Then we can find you another mistress. They are not that hard to come by.”

Arthur almost dislocates his shoulder as he scrambles to the floor and reaches for the flower through the bars. He eventually manages to reach it, but it doesn’t elevate dread feeling in his stomach. The thing might as well be back in that God forsaken cave with all its spiders. He had no way of getting it to Merlin either way.

He sits back on the straws that are to be his bed for the next week and bids himself to calm down and to think of something. Anything. Any way to get the flower in his hand to Gaius. He eyes the guards. But the way they are not meeting his gaze at all tells him that they will not dare go against the king's orders. And as angry as that makes Arthur, he can’t help but understand. The man threw his own son in the dungeon for this. It is understandable they do not wish risk the punishment the man would have in store for them.

Hours pass and suddenly there is a voice at the door, demanding to be let in. Morgana. The hope kindles in Arthur chest once more and makes his heart beat faster. This is it. Has to be it.

When the door finally opens it is Gwen who comes through. Carrying a tray with food. She is trying to be inconspicuous when her eyes wander the cell, clearly looking for something.

Arthur makes a show of dismissing the food and puts the flower between the pieces of bread. Gwen gives him a relieved smile as she picks the tray back up again. Despite the guard stopping her briefly, she makes it out the door with the yellow bloom.

Merlin is still alive. She has to be. Gwen and Morgana would not have bothered with the rouse otherwise. Right? He had not been too late. For the first time in a long while outside of any ceremony Arthur hangs his head and crosses his fingers in a prayer. Please, don’t let it be too late. Save her. I’ll do anything.

Arthur doesn’t know what makes Uther change his mind, but he is let out of his cell the very next day. The king has made peace with Bayard. Seems he suddenly believes what Arthur had told him about the witch he had seen in the woods. And how she was the most likely culprit. The man sure as hell questions Arthur about her extensively.

Arthur isn’t quite sure he cares what the woman’s reasons were.

“You did the right thing. Even though you were disobeying me. I’m proud of you Arthur, never forget that.”

Only yesterday, those words would have meant the world to Arthur. Now he wonders what worth is praise from a man who would let an innocent die just to punish his son.

Morgana had told him how close to death Merlin had come. How for a few moments they had thought that the antidote had been too late. How Gaius had been sure that her heart had already stopped beating. All because Uther wanted to teach Arthur a lesson.

Well, Arthur would not forget it. That was for sure. Though it probably had not been the lesson the king had wanted his son to learn.

So, I am currently in the middle of writing a Merthur fic heavily inspired by The Prince's Mistress by mayfriend. (If you haven't read it yet, please do, it is amazing.) Mainly because it ends at season 1 and my brain wanted the rest of it.

I am having trouble deciding of early or late I am going to allow the couple to get together. Hence this poll. As things stand the earliest they are getting together will be timeline equivalent of season 2. But I am actually evil enough to let them stew longer. Both options are delicious.

[aboardthescheherazade]

is it true that they removed mentions of tintin journaling/actually mentioning his job/etc when they redrew some of the older tintin comics? i swear i remember seeing examples of that once but i have no clue where to find them again

I definitely know which post you're talking about, but I can't find it either. I'll try to compile what I remember and/or know about offhand...

For the most part, the most references to Tintin being a reporter come early on in what are considered the "newsprint editions" of the comics. The first nine albums were serialized in Le Petit Vingtieme and Le Soir Jeunesse, and these pages were later re-collected and coloured (and occasionally cut down/rewritten) for what are now known as the "Casterman editions".

Tintin being a reporter is all over Land of the Soviets, and it's introduced as early as page 1. It's the silliest album, but it's also the only album thoroughly revolving around Tintin going on a reporting assignment.

(Soviets pg. 4. By God, look at that guard in the upper right. He looks like the RESPECT! butler)

Tintin is still a reporter in Congo, but it's scaled far back in the redrawn Casterman edition. In the latter, it's kept to one mention in the very first panel, which was also turned into the first appearance of Dupont and Dupond:

(Congo pgs. 1)

Meanwhile, the newsprint edition has a scene where newspaper agents try to scout Tintin as a reporter, I guess because his stories are just that good. He ultimately declines, claiming Petit Vingtieme is paying him way more than what they offer.

(Congo pg. 17)

Now, I'd had a theory that the series just became too plot-focused to keep pausing for references to Tintin's writing, but Reddit user XenophonOfAthens made a good point about Herge being forced to pause discussion of the press and current events after the nazis shut down Le Vingtieme, thus moving Hergé and many of the same staff to the nazi-overseen Le Soir and Le Soir Jeunesse. Tintin had been introduced as Le Petit Vingtieme's boy reporter who child readers could follow along with, but now with a new (heavily monitored) publication, mentions of the "boy reporter" slowly phased out.

One of the more significant edits to Tintin's reporting comes in Cigars of the Pharaoh. Sheik Patrash Pasha originally says he's followed Tintin's adventures for "several years" and presents a then-new Vingtieme publishing of Tintin in America.

In the colour edition, he instead presents Destination Moon. This album was in production at the time of the redraws, and it was one of the first albums to be published outside of Europe...but now Tintin's reaction is especially visceral, since that album involves him going to the moon with two people he hasn't met yet.

(Cigars B&W pg. 39, Casterman pg. 15. I also gave the Sheik's servant in the latter a quick edit because it was somehow worse than the 1933 version)

The last reference to Tintin's reporting for a long while was in The Broken Ear. We are now in the Soir era:

(Broken Ear pgs. 2)

This line never made it past the newsprint version. Tintin hears the news about the museum theft, and originally, he remarks that it'll make for a nice report...but in the reprint, he's just declaring that he'll go to the museum. I feel like the wording in the original could have referred to something specific about the comic's run in Le Soir Jeunesse, but it also could have been removed under the assumption that the reader would be going into this book knowing Tintin is a reporter. He does have a notepad with him through the rest of the page, but without that context, he just seems like a busybody.

I feel like there were a lot more references to his reporting in Le Journal Tintin, which is where the comic moved its publication to. This adds credence to the possibility that readers would be picking up these books knowing Tintin was a reporter, thus it being less of a focus within each album's plot. There do seem to be little hints throughout the albums about Tintin being a reporter...one of these is a moment in Explorers on the Moon where Tintin describes the moon's surface to ground control, and as a writer myself, this to me feels like him gathering his words for a future story:

(Explorers pg. 24)

However, Tintin's reporting is brought up in an album one more time, decades later, in Picaros. Tintin is referred to as a reporter on televised news, so this is at least some confirmation that he does submit journalist work, at least off-camera or between albums:

(pg. 47)

In short, Tintin's reporting started to fade off suspiciously during an era where nazis were breathing down Hergé's neck, then got a little lost in translation, and then ultimately came back.

My theory for Tintin's reporting slowly becoming less important in the albums happened either due to 1. Hergé and co. becoming more interested in writing about other things, 2. the series being moved to a vanity publication that discussed Tintin being a reporter outside of the canon comics, or 3. it got phased out during the Le Soir era because Hergé's supervisors didn't want to promote a gonzo journalist as a hero during a time with heavy political censorship and turmoil. It's completely up in the air.