fantasyfreak38

Latest Posts by fantasyfreak38

This is the worst timeline. (x)

so embarrassing when i forget im checking someone's blog and i start scrolling through and liking and reblogging shit as if it's just my dash. it feels like wandering into someone else's apartment and not noticing and making myself lunch

Fantasy Guide to Interiors

As a followup to the very popular post on architecture, I decided to add onto it by exploring the interior of each movement and the different design techniques and tastes of each era. This post at be helpful for historical fiction, fantasy or just a long read when you're bored.

Interior Design Terms

Reeding and fluting: Fluting is a technique that consists a continuous pattern of concave grooves in a flat surface across a surface. Reeding is it's opposite.

Embossing: stamping, carving or moulding a symbol to make it stand out on a surface.

Paneling: Panels of carved wood or fabric a fixed to a wall in a continuous pattern.

Gilding: the use of gold to highlight features.

Glazed Tile: Ceramic or porcelain tiles coated with liquid coloured glass or enamel.

Column: A column is a pillar of stone or wood built to support a ceiling. We will see more of columns later on.

Bay Window: The Bay Window is a window projecting outward from a building.

Frescos: A design element of painting images upon wet plaster.

Mosaic: Mosaics are a design element that involves using pieces of coloured glass and fitted them together upon the floor or wall to form images.

Mouldings: ornate strips of carved wood along the top of a wall.

Wainscoting: paneling along the lower portion of a wall.

Chinoiserie: A European take on East Asian art. Usually seen in wallpaper.

Clerestory: A series of eye-level windows.

Sconces: A light fixture supported on a wall.

Niche: A sunken area within a wall.

Monochromatic: Focusing on a single colour within a scheme.

Ceiling rose: A moulding fashioned on the ceiling in the shape of a rose usually supporting a light fixture.

Baluster: the vertical bars of a railing.

Façade: front portion of a building

Lintel: Top of a door or window.

Portico: a covered structure over a door supported by columns

Eaves: the part of the roof overhanging from the building

Skirting: border around lower length of a wall

Ancient Greece

Houses were made of either sun-dried clay bricks or stone which were painted when they dried. Ground floors were decorated with coloured stones and tiles called Mosaics. Upper level floors were made from wood. Homes were furnished with tapestries and furniture, and in grand homes statues and grand altars would be found. Furniture was very skillfully crafted in Ancient Greece, much attention was paid to the carving and decoration of such things. Of course, Ancient Greece is ancient so I won't be going through all the movements but I will talk a little about columns.

Doric: Doric is the oldest of the orders and some argue it is the simplest. The columns of this style are set close together, without bases and carved with concave curves called flutes. The capitals (the top of the column) are plain often built with a curve at the base called an echinus and are topped by a square at the apex called an abacus. The entablature is marked by frieze of vertical channels/triglyphs. In between the channels would be detail of carved marble. The Parthenon in Athens is your best example of Doric architecture.

Ionic: The Ionic style was used for smaller buildings and the interiors. The columns had twin volutes, scroll-like designs on its capital. Between these scrolls, there was a carved curve known as an egg and in this style the entablature is much narrower and the frieze is thick with carvings. The example of Ionic Architecture is the Temple to Athena Nike at the Athens Acropolis.

Corinthian: The Corinthian style has some similarities with the Ionic order, the bases, entablature and columns almost the same but the capital is more ornate its base, column, and entablature, but its capital is far more ornate, commonly carved with depictions of acanthus leaves. The style was more slender than the others on this list, used less for bearing weight but more for decoration. Corinthian style can be found along the top levels of the Colosseum in Rome.

Tuscan: The Tuscan order shares much with the Doric order, but the columns are un-fluted and smooth. The entablature is far simpler, formed without triglyphs or guttae. The columns are capped with round capitals.

Composite: This style is mixed. It features the volutes of the Ionic order and the capitals of the Corinthian order. The volutes are larger in these columns and often more ornate. The column's capital is rather plain. for the capital, with no consistent differences to that above or below the capital.

Ancient Rome

Rome is well known for its outward architectural styles. However the Romans did know how to add that rizz to the interior. Ceilings were either vaulted or made from exploded beams that could be painted. The Romans were big into design. Moasics were a common interior sight, the use of little pieces of coloured glass or stone to create a larger image. Frescoes were used to add colour to the home, depicting mythical figures and beasts and also different textures such as stonework or brick. The Romans loved their furniture. Dining tables were low and the Romans ate on couches. Weaving was a popular pastime so there would be tapestries and wall hangings in the house. Rich households could even afford to import fine rugs from across the Empire. Glass was also a feature in Roman interior but windows were usually not paned as large panes were hard to make. Doors were usually treated with panels that were carved or in lain with bronze.

Ancient Egypt

Egypt was one of the first great civilisations, known for its immense and grand structures. Wealthy Egyptians had grand homes. The walls were painted or plastered usually with bright colours and hues. The Egyptians are cool because they mapped out their buildings in such a way to adhere to astrological movements meaning on special days if the calendar the temple or monuments were in the right place always. The columns of Egyptian where thicker, more bulbous and often had capitals shaped like bundles of papyrus reeds. Woven mats and tapestries were popular decor. Motifs from the river such as palms, papyrus and reeds were popular symbols used.

Ancient Africa

African Architecture is a very mixed bag and more structurally different and impressive than Hollywood would have you believe. Far beyond the common depictions of primitive buildings, the African nations were among the giants of their time in architecture, no style quite the same as the last but just as breathtaking.

Rwandan Architecture: The Rwandans commonly built of hardened clay with thatched roofs of dried grass or reeds. Mats of woven reeds carpeted the floors of royal abodes. These residences folded about a large public area known as a karubanda and were often so large that they became almost like a maze, connecting different chambers/huts of all kinds of uses be they residential or for other purposes.

Ashanti Architecture: The Ashanti style can be found in present day Ghana. The style incorporates walls of plaster formed of mud and designed with bright paint and buildings with a courtyard at the heart, not unlike another examples on this post. The Ashanti also formed their buildings of the favourite method of wattle and daub.

Nubian Architecture: Nubia, in modern day Ethiopia, was home to the Nubians who were one of the world's most impressive architects at the beginning of the architecture world and probably would be more talked about if it weren't for the Egyptians building monuments only up the road. The Nubians were famous for building the speos, tall tower-like spires carved of stone. The Nubians used a variety of materials and skills to build, for example wattle and daub and mudbrick. The Kingdom of Kush, the people who took over the Nubian Empire was a fan of Egyptian works even if they didn't like them very much. The Kushites began building pyramid-like structures such at the sight of Gebel Barkal

Japanese Interiors

Japenese interior design rests upon 7 principles. Kanso (簡素)- Simplicity, Fukinsei (不均整)- Asymmetry, Shizen (自然)- Natural, Shibumi (渋味) – Simple beauty, Yugen (幽玄)- subtle grace, Datsuzoku (脱俗) – freedom from habitual behaviour, Seijaku (静寂)- tranquillity.

Common features of Japanese Interior Design:

Shoji walls: these are the screens you think of when you think of the traditional Japanese homes. They are made of wooden frames, rice paper and used to partition

Tatami: Tatami mats are used within Japanese households to blanket the floors. They were made of rice straw and rush straw, laid down to cushion the floor.

Genkan: The Genkan was a sunken space between the front door and the rest of the house. This area is meant to separate the home from the outside and is where shoes are discarded before entering.

Japanese furniture: often lowest, close to the ground. These include tables and chairs but often tanked are replaced by zabuton, large cushions. Furniture is usually carved of wood in a minimalist design.

Nature: As both the Shinto and Buddhist beliefs are great influences upon architecture, there is a strong presence of nature with the architecture. Wood is used for this reason and natural light is prevalent with in the home. The orientation is meant to reflect the best view of the world.

Islamic World Interior

The Islamic world has one of the most beautiful and impressive interior design styles across the world. Colour and detail are absolute staples in the movement. Windows are usually not paned with glass but covered in ornate lattices known as jali. The jali give ventilation, light and privacy to the home. Islamic Interiors are ornate and colourful, using coloured ceramic tiles. The upper parts of walls and ceilings are usually flat decorated with arabesques (foliate ornamentation), while the lower wall areas were usually tiled. Features such as honeycombed ceilings, horseshoe arches, stalactite-fringed arches and stalactite vaults (Muqarnas) are prevalent among many famous Islamic buildings such as the Alhambra and the Blue Mosque.

Byzantine (330/395–1453 A. D)

The Byzantine Empire or Eastern Roman Empire was where eat met west, leading to a melting pot of different interior designs based on early Christian styles and Persian influences. Mosaics are probably what you think of when you think of the Byzantine Empire. Ivory was also a popular feature in the Interiors, with carved ivory or the use of it in inlay. The use of gold as a decorative feature usually by way of repoussé (decorating metals by hammering in the design from the backside of the metal). Fabrics from Persia, heavily embroidered and intricately woven along with silks from afar a field as China, would also be used to upholster furniture or be used as wall hangings. The Byzantines favoured natural light, usually from the use of copolas.

Indian Interiors

India is of course, the font of all intricate designs. India's history is sectioned into many eras but we will focus on a few to give you an idea of prevalent techniques and tastes.

The Gupta Empire (320 – 650 CE): The Gupta era was a time of stone carving. As impressive as the outside of these buildings are, the Interiors are just as amazing. Gupta era buildings featured many details such as ogee (circular or horseshoe arch), gavaksha/chandrashala (the motif centred these arches), ashlar masonry (built of squared stone blocks) with ceilings of plain, flat slabs of stone.

Delhi Sultanate (1206–1526): Another period of beautifully carved stone. The Delhi sultanate had influence from the Islamic world, with heavy uses of mosaics, brackets, intricate mouldings, columns and and hypostyle halls.

Mughal Empire (1526–1857): Stonework was also important on the Mughal Empire. Intricately carved stonework was seen in the pillars, low relief panels depicting nature images and jalis (marble screens). Stonework was also decorated in a stye known as pietra dura/parchin kari with inscriptions and geometric designs using colored stones to create images. Tilework was also popular during this period. Moasic tiles were cut and fitted together to create larger patters while cuerda seca tiles were coloured tiles outlined with black.

Chinese Interiors

Common features of Chinese Interiors

Use of Colours: Colour in Chinese Interior is usually vibrant and bold. Red and Black are are traditional colours, meant to bring luck, happiness, power, knowledge and stability to the household.

Latticework: Lattices are a staple in Chinese interiors most often seen on shutters, screens, doors of cabinets snf even traditional beds.

Lacquer: Multiple coats of lacquer are applied to furniture or cabinets (now walls) and then carved. The skill is called Diaoqi (雕漆).

Decorative Screens: Screens are used to partition off part of a room. They are usually of carved wood, pained with very intricate murals.

Shrines: Spaces were reserved on the home to honour ancestors, usually consisting of an altar where offerings could be made.

Of course, Chinese Interiors are not all the same through the different eras. While some details and techniques were interchangeable through different dynasties, usually a dynasty had a notable style or deviation. These aren't all the dynasties of course but a few interesting examples.

Song Dynasty (960–1279): The Song Dynasty is known for its stonework. Sculpture was an important part of Song Dynasty interior. It was in this period than brick and stone work became the most used material. The Song Dynasty was also known for its very intricate attention to detail, paintings, and used tiles.

Ming Dynasty(1368–1644): Ceilings were adorned with cloisons usually featuring yellow reed work. The floors would be of flagstones usually of deep tones, mostly black. The Ming Dynasty favoured richly coloured silk hangings, tapestries and furnishings. Furniture was usually carved of darker woods, arrayed in a certain way to bring peace to the dwelling.

Han Dynasty (206 BC-220 AD): Interior walls were plastered and painted to show important figures and scenes. Lacquer, though it was discovered earlier, came into greater prominence with better skill in this era.

Tang Dynasty (618–907) : The colour palette is restrained, reserved. But the Tang dynasty is not without it's beauty. Earthenware reached it's peak in this era, many homes would display fine examples as well. The Tang dynasty is famous for its upturned eaves, the ceilings supported by timber columns mounted with metal or stone bases. Glazed tiles were popular in this era, either a fixed to the roof or decorating a screen wall.

Romanesque (6th -11th century/12th)

Romanesque Architecture is a span between the end of Roman Empire to the Gothic style. Taking inspiration from the Roman and Byzantine Empires, the Romanesque period incorporates many of the styles. The most common details are carved floral and foliage symbols with the stonework of the Romanesque buildings. Cable mouldings or twisted rope-like carvings would have framed doorways. As per the name, Romansque Interiors relied heavily on its love and admiration for Rome. The Romanesque style uses geometric shapes as statements using curves, circles snf arches. The colours would be clean and warm, focusing on minimal ornamentation.

Gothic Architecture (12th Century - 16th Century)

The Gothic style is what you think of when you think of old European cathedrals and probably one of the beautiful of the styles on this list and one of most recognisable. The Gothic style is a dramatic, opposing sight and one of the easiest to describe. Decoration in this era became more ornate, stonework began to sport carving and modelling in a way it did not before. The ceilings moved away from barreled vaults to quadripartite and sexpartite vaulting. Columns slimmed as other supportive structures were invented. Intricate stained glass windows began their popularity here. In Gothic structures, everything is very symmetrical and even.

Mediaeval (500 AD to 1500)

Interiors of mediaeval homes are not quite as drab as Hollywood likes to make out. Building materials may be hidden by plaster in rich homes, sometimes even painted. Floors were either dirt strewn with rushes or flagstones in larger homes. Stonework was popular, especially around fireplaces. Grand homes would be decorated with intricate woodwork, carved heraldic beasts and wall hangings of fine fabrics.

Renaissance (late 1300s-1600s)

The Renaissance was a period of great artistry and splendor. The revival of old styles injected symmetry and colour into the homes. Frescoes were back. Painted mouldings adorned the ceilings and walls. Furniture became more ornate, fixed with luxurious upholstery and fine carvings. Caryatids (pillars in the shape of women), grotesques, Roman and Greek images were used to spruce up the place. Floors began to become more intricate, with coloured stone and marble. Modelled stucco, sgraffiti arabesques (made by cutting lines through a layer of plaster or stucco to reveal an underlayer), and fine wall painting were used in brilliant combinations in the early part of the 16th century.

Tudor Interior (1485-1603)

The Tudor period is a starkly unique style within England and very recognisable. Windows were fixed with lattice work, usually casement. Stained glass was also in in this period, usually depicting figures and heraldic beasts. Rooms would be panelled with wood or plastered. Walls would be adorned with tapestries or embroidered hangings. Windows and furniture would be furnished with fine fabrics such as brocade. Floors would typically be of wood, sometimes strewn with rush matting mixed with fresh herbs and flowers to freshen the room.

Baroque (1600 to 1750)

The Baroque period was a time for splendor and for splashing the cash. The interior of a baroque room was usually intricate, usually of a light palette, featuring a very high ceiling heavy with detail. Furniture would choke the room, ornately carved and stitched with very high quality fabrics. The rooms would be full of art not limited to just paintings but also sculptures of marble or bronze, large intricate mirrors, moldings along the walls which may be heavily gilded, chandeliers and detailed paneling.

Victorian (1837-1901)

We think of the interiors of Victorian homes as dowdy and dark but that isn't true. The Victorians favoured tapestries, intricate rugs, decorated wallpaper, exquisitely furniture, and surprisingly, bright colour. Dyes were more widely available to people of all stations and the Victorians did not want for colour. Patterns and details were usually nature inspired, usually floral or vines. Walls could also be painted to mimic a building material such as wood or marble and most likely painted in rich tones. The Victorians were suckers for furniture, preferring them grandly carved with fine fabric usually embroidered or buttoned. And they did not believe in minimalism. If you could fit another piece of furniture in a room, it was going in there. Floors were almost eclusively wood laid with the previously mentioned rugs. But the Victorians did enjoy tiled floors but restricted them to entrances. The Victorians were quite in touch with their green thumbs so expect a lot of flowers and greenery inside. with various elaborately decorated patterned rugs. And remember, the Victorians loved to display as much wealth as they could. Every shelf, cabinet, case and ledge would be chocked full of ornaments and antiques.

Edwardian/The Gilded Age/Belle Epoque (1880s-1914)

This period (I've lumped them together for simplicity) began to move away from the deep tones and ornate patterns of the Victorian period. Colour became more neutral. Nature still had a place in design. Stained glass began to become popular, especially on lampshades and light fixtures. Embossing started to gain popularity and tile work began to expand from the entrance halls to other parts of the house. Furniture began to move away from dark wood, some families favouring breathable woods like wicker. The rooms would be less cluttered.

Art Deco (1920s-1930s)

The 1920s was a time of buzz and change. Gone were the refined tastes of the pre-war era and now the wow factor was in. Walls were smoother, buildings were sharper and more jagged, doorways and windows were decorated with reeding and fluting. Pastels were in, as was the heavy use of black and white, along with gold. Mirrors and glass were in, injecting light into rooms. Gold, silver, steel and chrome were used in furnishings and decor. Geometric shapes were a favourite design choice. Again, high quality and bold fabrics were used such as animal skins or colourful velvet. It was all a rejection of the Art Noveau movement, away from nature focusing on the man made.

Modernism (1930 - 1965)

Modernism came after the Art Deco movement. Fuss and feathers were out the door and now, practicality was in. Materials used are shown as they are, wood is not painted, metal is not coated. Bright colours were acceptable but neutral palettes were favoured. Interiors were open and favoured large windows. Furniture was practical, for use rather than the ornamentation, featuring plain details of any and geometric shapes. Away from Art Deco, everything is straight, linear and streamlined.

“Public libraries are such important, lovely places!” Yes but do you GO there. Do you STUDY there. Do you meet friends and get coffee there. Do you borrow the FREE, ZERO SUBSCRIPTION, ZERO TRACKING books, audiobooks, ebooks, and films. Have you checked out their events and schemes. Do you sign up for the low cost courses in ASL or knitting or programming or writing your CV that they probably run. Do you know they probably have myriad of schemes to help low income families. Do you hire their low cost rooms if you need them. Have you joined their social groups. Do you use the FREE COMPUTERS. Do you even know what your library is trying to offer you. Listen, the library shouldn’t just exist for you as a nice idea. That’s why more libraries shut every year

Preorders available, dial 1-800-073-NAMI on your transponder snail now!

bonus:

Cabin by the Lake | Local Diner

Portgas D. Ace x F!Reader, Modern AU series

06- When Luffy’s birthday turns into a group get away to a small cabin by a lake, you cannot deny his own brothers an invitation. Surely the week long get away would leave a lasting impression with his eldest sibling.

uhhh no warnings really but sharing food. i know some people are weird about that stuff 🤷‍♀️

Wednesday: Local Diner

You wake with a start, a hollow aching in your chest, and the room empty of your two friends. Despite your positions splayed out on the bed there is a deep seated knowledge that you will never be as comfortable and calm as you were during the movie last night.

And that alone, that fluttering of anxiety brought about, was enough to wake you fully.

Going through the motions of your morning routine is fairly easy. Yet there is something gnawing at the back of your mind the entire time. It holds an emotion that you cannot quite unlock at this hour, a thought that you unconsciously push back on, so that you can continue with your little vacation with a clear mind. You invested far too much time and money on this trip to allow it to be ruined by something a menial as your feelings.

Dressed for the summers day, you head downstairs to join the others in the breakfast spread already being picked on by the group. You collapse into one of the open seats and survey the variety of plates. Everything seems to be mostly intact, except for the platter of sweet rolls, and your shoulders drop in disappointment.

A knee knocks against yours under the table and you slowly turn to face Ace. “How’d you sleep?”

“Good, actually.” You smile at him. “What about you? Luffy actually stay in his own bed?”

“Yes, thankfully.” Ace rolls his eyes dramatically. He then turns back to his plate, and you believe the conversation to be over, until he reaches out in front of you to place a small plate down. “Saved these for ya.”

Your eyes turn to the small platter, fish painted around the perimeter of it, and notice the two sweet rolls with the icing that you like so much. The ones that you have eaten every single day this week, as Sanji has always made sure they were there at your request. “Oh.” Your voice is low and that ache has returned. “T-thanks, Ace.”

“No problem.” He simply shrugs and returns back to his meal.

Your eyes cast around the group, smiling to yourself at the light that each person seems to exude. It seems that the vacation, your own little break from life, has done wonders for everyone here. One light seems to shine the brightest though, and you catch yourself throwing occasional glances his way, allowing it to warm you through.

“I really think we should check it out!” Nami’s voice is chipper as ever as the sounds of forks scraping on plates reverberates through the room. Her eyes meet yours and you urge your brain to catch up on the conversation. “It’s supposed to be a cute little, local diner.”

“The ladies at the sale were raving about it.” You confirm, taking a slow sip of the fresh juice.

“Tired of my cooking already, my dears?” Sanji places a hand on his chest in mock offense.

“Of course not,” Nami quickly shakes her head, not wanting there to be any threat of Sanji not cooking for the remainder of the trip. Not that he would ever do that to her. “But you deserve a break for a night, this is your vacation too.”

Sanji shrugs, “I enjoy what I do.”

“It’s just one night.” Robin offers a smile.

“Yeah! And then you’ll be rested up to cook a big feast tomorrow!” Luffy grins, practically vibrating in his seat.

Sanji rolls his eyes, but voices his agreement nevertheless.

As plates empty and drinks are downed, everyone gets up to go about doing their own thing. Sanji waves off any offers of help with the dishes, especially with the knowledge of having a break, and the lingering crew is shooed out of the kitchen.

You move about your day on auto pilot, checking in with everyone as you wander mindlessly around the cabin. No agenda and no real goals for the day. It was something that started to gnaw at you in an odd was as you were left alone with your thoughts.

Before you could spiral any deeper, Ace pops into the room, patting at his pockets as if checking something. He scans the room with furrowed brows until his eyes land on you. “Oh, hey doll.” He grins at you, demeanor light. “You know where my keys are?”

“Think I saw them on the kitchen counter.” You remember the heat filling your face at the sight of his alligator key chain. He quickly turns to the kitchen, an aha soon followed by the jingling of keys. You watch him enter the room again with curiosity peaked, “And where are you going?”

He clutches the keys in his hand, mouth opening before he quickly stops himself, head tipping in thought. “Do you, uh, wanna go for a drive?”

“Where to?”

“Dunno.” A cheesy grin is offered to you. “Just wanted to go out and drive.” His shoulder leans in the door way as he watches you, brows raised and biting his lip as he awaits your answer.

And that look. That stupid look.

It was far too intriguing to deny. “Let’s go.”

You quickly follow Ace outside and to his car. He tugs the driver door open with a smile that he can’t seem to wipe away. The drive was meant to be his reprieve from the group, a moment alone, but he couldn’t deny that he was satisfied with the new development.

As you settle into his passenger seat, he works to hook his phone up, before handing it over to you. “Play me something good, doll.” He teases, as if he didn’t have the most broad taste in music imaginable. You scroll through his many playlists as he backs out of his parking space, turning the car towards the winding back roads. The smooth sounds of ABBA soon fills the air and Ace grins, reaching over to crank the volume. “I love this song.”

Ace begins to tap the rhythm against the steering wheel, head tipping back, before absolutely belting out the words. You break into a fit of giggles at the unexpected performance, watching as he does a little dance in his seat. “Come on, doll. Don’t play ABBA if you’re not gonna put on a performance with me.” Gone was the man quietly mouthing the words to the music days ago, replaced by the one entirely comfortable in making a fool of himself in front of you, seemingly with a goal of making you laugh. “Let’s go, it’s the chorus, you gotta know this.”

And who are you to deny Ace such a request? You follow him into the chorus and his energy only seems to raise at this. Amidst his little dance, he takes your hand in his, shaking it with emphasis to each word.

Songs change one by one, the energy staying high, and laughter echoing in the guitar solos. Ace drives with little purpose, taking winding roads and pushing the two of you further and further into the back woods. At some point, he turns off into a clearing to turn the car around and not get the two of you too lost.

As Ace throws the car in reverse, you lean forwards to turn the music down. “Alright, what kinda instrument do you play then? It’s gotta be something with the show you’re giving me.”

A grin pulls to his face as he throws an arm around the back of your seat, looking over his shoulder to avoid backing the car off of the mountain itself. You watch him closely, his body leaning towards yours and that sly grin on his face.

“I can play guitar, but I don’t perform or anything.” He moves his arm back to put the car in drive. “A little drums too, all just for fun though.” Eyes glance both ways for a brief moment, before he turns to look at you. “But i’m glad you were impressed.”

A playful smile pulls to your lips, “Well, I never said I was impressed.”

“Awh, you wound me.” He presses his palm to his chest and pouts at you.

“Awh, don’t cry, Ace.” Your bottom lip pokes out to match his pout and you don’t miss the way his eyes flicker down to track the movement, your breath catching in your throat. He meets your eyes again and a flush overtakes his freckles.

You’re not given the chance for a comment as your phone rings. Both of you jerk back in surprise, Ace’s eyes turning to check the road again before he is pulling out. You raise the phone to your ear without even checking the name.

“Hello?”

“Where are you?” Nami’s voice crackles over the line.

“Out on a drive.” You simply answer.

“A drive?” She pushes. “With Ace? Are you-“ The line cuts in and out as you only pick up a few syllables every now and then.

“Nami, you’re cutting out.”

Her voice finally cuts through, clear as day. “We’re starving!” You pull the phone away at the sheer volume she was speaking.

Ace chuckles, having overheard the statement. “Tell them to meet us there.” He simply shrugs. “We aren’t too far out.”

“Yeah, Nami just meet us there. ‘Kay?” You can vaguely hear her shout out an okay, followed by crackling words and pauses of silence. “Can’t hear you, love you, bye.” More crackling ensues but you hang up the phone. You toss your phone back into the cup holder in favor of Ace’s. “Do you know where the diner is?”

Ace nods, but you’re too deep in his playlist to notice. “We passed it up earlier.”

“Oh,” You raise your head to stare out the windshield in thought. “I didn’t even notice.”

With a simple shrug, the music is flowing again.

The concert ensues but it is a little bit more calm this time. Instead of belting out the lyrics, you’re given a moment to truly hear Ace’s voice, the sound washing over you and making your heart skip a beat. The next song you queue up is something you hoped matches his tone and allowed you to hear more.

But the diner is soon coming into view, much to your disappointment, and Ace is pulling into the gravel lot. The others hop out of the two cars as Ace parks, stretching their limbs as if they had been in there for ages.

Luffy bounces on his heels, “Let’s eat!” He beams as the group rush forwards. Part of you feels sorry for the wait staff and how much they were about to have to handle with your group.

You and Ace trail behind the group, bumping each others shoulders and sharing playful glances. As you enter the diner, you already see the group following after a waitress towards a large circular booth. Everyone slides around in the booth, Ussop pausing to allow Ace to slide in with Sabo, sending you a look as you move in beside of Ace.

Ussop takes place beside of you, elbowing you in the ribs and wagging his brows at you. You send the man a death glare before turning to flip the menu open.

Ace lets out a yawn as he looks over the menu, almost missing the waitress turning expectantly towards him for his drink order. He offers a sheepish smile to the woman. He shifts against the vinyl seating, bumping your shoulder by pure accident, and pulling your attention away.

“You okay?”

“Got really tired all the sudden.” He shakes his head.

You hum in thought, “Talk to me then. What are you getting?” And he seems grateful for the distraction, babbling on about the southern chicken platter sounding good, but the burgers sounding even better. Of course, he would want an extra side no matter what he ordered because he realized that he was absolutely starving. His appetite could combat Luffy’s, after all.

Then the attention is called to Zoro and Sanji’s bickering, something about the former being grateful to have a break from Sanji’s meals. A shouting match ensues and Nami lands a swift smack upside both their heads as she scolds them.

Conversation chatters on, and the woman is soon returning with two others at her side, all with giant trays in hand. They begin passing out plates, with the bulk being offered to the brothers. The group remains rowdy as ever and easily break the quiet ambiance of the local diner.

You dive into your plate of food, the chicken platter, happily shoving the food into your mouth. Crispy and perfectly seasoned, a grin pulling on your lips. Everyone else happily indulge in the southern style dishes, grins all around, and you had to admit to yourself that it was nice seeing Sanji so relaxed after a week of catering to you all. You offer a sideways glance to see Ace shoveling food into his mouth, freckled cheeks cutely puffed out, as he seemed to be enjoying his burger.

“Hey,” You call to him, cutting off a piece of the chicken to drop on his plate. “Try it, ‘s really good.”

Ace grins as he pops the piece of meat into his mouth. He nods in satisfaction, “Good, but the burger is definitely better.” Then he collects the greasy burger into one hand. “Try a bite.”

And as if it was the most casual thing in the entire world, you take a bite off the burger he was already halfway through. The melted cheese blended perfectly with the tangy barbecue sauce, but you shake your head at him. “You’re crazy, the chickens definitely better.” He dramatically rolls his eyes in response.

“Your tastebuds are broken.” Then he is reaching over to one of his side plates. “Here, try this. These are better than anything else.” He drops a couple of the fried cheese curds onto your plate.

You toss one in your mouth and a smile pulls to your face at the satisfying taste. “Okay, you’re right about that at least.” You collect the other one and lean into him a little bit, “Can I try the sauce?” You nod to the miniature ramekin that came with the dish.

“Sure, but they’re better without.” He picks up the black dish to offer over the dip.

Dipping the fried cheddar, you pop it into your mouth. “Oh, Ace, you’re crazy.” Your eyes blow wide. “That sauce is so good.”

“Well have at it then, doll.” He shifts his plates around to place the cheese curds between you. “I’m willing to share.”

You match his grin as you grab another.

The waitress puts in the work, but everyone is ever grateful for it. Sanji especially commended the woman for her work. She clears plates away as they empty, refills drinks, and even joins in on some of the groups banter.

Amidst this, you hear Ace yawning yet again. He leans against the space that has now been emptied in front of him. Ace’s eyes flutter shut, cheek slumping against his palm as sleep won over the best of him. His body was ridged but you figured it was a matter of time before he slumped fully against the table.

You gently place a hand on his knee and squeeze it in effort to wake him without startling him and causing a scene. Ace jolts awake at the feeling, back straightening, as he offers you a quick smile of thanks. Though he turns quickly, you don’t miss the way his cheeks flush. His hand dips below the table to grab for yours, clutching your hand and giving it a squeeze, a clear battle to stay awake flickering across his face.

You lift a hand as the waitress comes by, leaning over Ussop to order a black coffee, before she is off again to a new table.

The woman soon returns to gently place the white mug beside your iced drink. You silently slide the mug over with your free hand and offer another squeeze to Aces fingers.

The blush returns on his cheeks to accentuate the freckles fanning across his skin. “Thanks, doll.” Ace smiles as he collects the hot coffee.

The table that was previously overwhelmed with plates is now significantly dwindling down as everyone finishes up. Your waitress continues to pop in and out, the older woman reveling in the charming words of the blonde cook whenever the mood strikes him. The energy drops steadily as everyone gets their stomachs full.

With everything cleared up, the group lingers around the table in waiting for the undoubtedly hefty bill split a solid ten ways. You had apologized to the woman for having to split it up in such a way but she waved you off with a grin- “Just remember this when you’re leaving a tip.” And with a cheeky wink, she was off.

Despite the black coffee, there was still a tired glaze about Ace’s eyes.

“Alright, Ace, give me the keys. I’m driving back to the cabin.” Sabo juts his hand out. Ace goes to speak his protest but his brother quickly cuts him off. “Yeah, yeah, i’m sure you’re fine. But i’m not letting you wreck out in the middle of nowhere.” The two glare at each other for a long moment, before Ace relents and drops his keys into Sabo’s open palm.

The group divides up into the three cars- the brothers taking Ace’s car while you, Robin, and Ussop take Nami’s car and the guys pile in with Franky. Pleasant conversation passes between Nami and Robin in the front, while you are left in the back with Ussop side eyeing you. But he never makes a comment on the entire ride there.

However, when you arrive at the cabin, Ussop is calling you to sit with him outside on the porch. You already have an idea of what the topic of conversation is about to be as you plop into the porch swing beside of him, the chains swaying you both gently.

“Sooo,” Ussop drags out the word as he worries his shoe against the stained wood. “What’s going on with you and Ace?”

“Me and Ace?” You can practically feel your heart in your throat.

“You and Ace.” Ussop narrows his eyes.

You shrug with the facade of nonchalance, “We’re becoming friends, least i’m pretty sure we are.” Ussop tips his head back against the seat, staring up at the ceiling, and drawing in a deep breath.

“Friends?”

“I think so, yeah.”

Ussop rubs a hand over his cheeks in exasperation. “I know you like to take care of your friends,” His head tilts to look at you closely. “But what was that at the diner?” Heat fills your cheeks and you force your eyes away, staring at the sun setting over the lake.

“I don’t know.” You purse your lips.

Silence lingers for a moment.

“Well do you have feelings for the guy?” He prompts, observing you very closely for any true indication. You blow out a breath and continue staring out, before throwing your hands out in a half hearted gesture to convey you do not know. “If you ask me,” His shoulder bumps yours in a shrug. “Or Nami. Or Robin. Or Franky.” He quickly adds. “The two of you are definitely falling.”

“Falling?” Your attention snaps to him. “Ussop, I barely know the guy.”

“Oh, so you’re in denial.” He huffs a laugh as you roll your eyes at him. “Been there.” The glare you send him does not deter his ramblings as he continues before you can protest. “But it’s different with a guy like that, ya know. He’s Luffy’s brother and that can really complicate things.”

“So i’ve heard.” You mutter bitterly.

Ussop sighs to himself, fidgeting with one of the many bracelets on his wrists. Worry furrows at his brow. “Do you remember Kaya?” He cannot meet your eye as he asks this.

“Your ex-girlfriend?”

“Yeah, that one.” He chuckles a humorless laugh. “You may not know this, but I used to be good friends with her brother. We were really close before I started dating her.” His voice is thick as he continues. “I don’t think i’ve seen his face since we broke up.” Hands drop in his lap as if they were iron weights. His words linger in the air for a moment before settling equally as heavy on you. “I’m not saying anything like that will happen if you do end up falling for Ace, but it’s something you should keep in mind.”

“Yeah, okay.” Your voice is low as you sink lower into the seat, allowing your head to fall on Ussop’s shoulder.

He slaps a hand onto your knee. “I’m not saying ignore your feelings, by the way.” Ussop speaks lowly, gently swaying the seat as he thinks over his next words. It seemed obvious that the newly found affection for Ace was far from the affection you held for the rest of your friends, no matter how heavily you denied or ignored it. “Just communicate and don’t be stupid for once.” You swat at his hand and his shoulders shake your head as he laughs.

The atmosphere shifts to normal as you watch the sun dipping low.

A thought pops into your mind. “Sooo,” You drag the word out. “Anyone having these conversations with Robin and Franky?” Your gaze tips up to Ussop just in time to catch the dramatic eye roll.

“I’m having them with Franky but that guy is kind of hopeless.” Curls fluff into your eyes as Ussop shakes his head. “Think they’re in the same state as you.”

A scoff leaves you, “I’m in no state.”

“Keep telling yourself that, doll.” Ussop grins.

Series Masterlist

tag list: @flooofity @certain-tragedies @zzzzzoey @stuckinmymind22 @kanekisheart @lxpofthegods @weirdothatreads @dailybrekker @spyderst4r @nejilost @thekatisspooky

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎.❝ SAY MY NAME ❞

･ ⟢ ⋮ summary. . . running into your childhood friend you'd lost touch with just when you were in need of a roommate was super lucky for you, too bad living with and getting close to him has you feeling things you probably shouldn't !! just how exactly is he feeling about this arrangement ??

.pairing ﹒ꕀ . gojo satoru / reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎wc. ⁀ ⊹ 12.6k

warnings.ᐟ.ᐟ 18+ only, smut, university au, swearing, dirty talk, cunnilingus, thigh fucking, big dick gojo, p in v penetration, unprotected sex, praise kink, creampie, fingering, cumplay (not really), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, size kink (if you squint), gojo is down bad, reader is scared of horror films, f!reader, she/her pronouns used, i think that's all !!

Having a roommate is great! You pay less on rent, split utility bills, there’s usually someone home if you get locked out or have to go away for a couple days. There’s many benefits, which is why you wanted one in the first place but when it comes to your reality… it’s a different story. Especially when your roommate is some guy from one of your classes that suddenly needed a roommate when you started looking.

Okay, some guy is a little harsh, you’ve known each other since you were kids, you just grew apart as you got older and have only really gotten back in touch during university. It was surprising to see him on campus but not unpleasant. He was a familiar face on a day where you had no friends in a new environment. It’s embarrassing to think back on it now, with how you practically clung to him the whole day.

Your childhood with him was nice, there’s a lot of memories there. Thinking hard, there wasn’t even an inciting incident to your growing apart. It was natural and happened slowly. Still neighbours but he’d gone to a different high school, and you’d stayed where you were. You don’t really know or remember what happened that you stopped hanging out all together and you were too shy and nervous to just walk those few steps next door.

He was the boy that walked home with you after school, who held his hand out to you when you fell over, who told kids off for picking on you. He was a good friend and always made you smile, losing a friend like him hurt. It hurts more that there isn’t any obvious blame to be put anywhere, it’s not like you guys had a fight or anything.

The fact that your paths had diverged and met again feels bizarre and puts you on edge. Easily falling into step with him before realising you’ve not seen each other in years, a familiarity you feel like you shouldn’t have but is there regardless. Often talking like you’re close before correcting yourself because despite being the same people, you’re completely different.

“Your thinking is disturbing me,” his voice comes from behind you.

The sudden sound gives you a start and you jump, “Geez Gojo,” you turn to look at him, his head tilted and smile lopsided as he leans on the back of the couch you’re seated on, “How long have you been there for?”

He shrugs before throwing his leg over the couch and stepping onto it from behind, flopping onto his ass and jostling you with his movements, “I dunno, a few minutes or more?”

You only hum noncommittally at him, your train of thought completely gone. It doesn’t matter, you have a feeling you’d gotten distracted from the point you were trying to make to yourself anyways.

“You’re gone again,” he pokes at your cheek and you slap his hand away.

“Stop it, I was thinking about something and now all my thoughts are muddled and useless.”

Gojo sinks further into the couch, spreading his limbs out far too wide, “Must not have been all that important then.”

A sound of disagreement from you, “I was thinking about my childhood…”

“Ah…” he sighs, “Must’ve been thinking about me then,” his lashes flutter at you.

And just like that, you remembered what you were initially thinking of. Having a roommate is good in theory and not practice because now you’re living with the single most annoying person on the planet. Only he manages to press all your buttons and you can’t tell if he’s just like that or if it’s because you knew each other as kids.

You choose not to answer him, he bugs you and a part of why he bugs you so much is because he doesn’t even seem a little bit bothered by your past friendship. He’s comfortable around you and is quick to bring up the past, you’d wondered at first if he felt the same sting over your lost past together but his attitude towards you had that line of thinking dropping quick.

Maybe moving in with him was stupid but you needed a roommate and you knew him, it was the better choice but you’re questioning that logic a little bit now. “Do you feel uncomfortable that I’m living with you?”

His head shoots to look at you and his brows pinch, “No.” When you don’t say anything more, he asks, “Are you uncomfortable living here… with me?”

Your eyes meet and you can tell he’s concerned which wasn’t your intention, “No, don’t worry about it… I was just thinking out loud.”

“Wanna know what your problem is?”

Whatever he’s about to tell you is going to be stupid, “No. Not really.”

He gives his answer despite yours, “You think too much, always in thought worrying about things that don’t matter nearly as much as you think they do.”

“Maybe you just don’t think enough,” your retort is quick, not enjoying captain state the obvious over here.

He exhales while shaking his head, like he’s showing you pity, “I suppose you can’t help it; you’ve always been an overthinker.”

And it’s true… you’ve always had a tendency to overthink and for some reason the fact he still remembers that about you makes you feel funny. It’s like you’d half expected him to forget everything about you but time and time again he reminds you that he remembers a lot. More than you’d think he’d have noticed about you as kids.

“Hey, you okay?” His tone isn’t the same from before, no longer teasing, “You seem down lately.”

You brush him off with a smile, “I’m fine, we just have a weird friendship.”

He pouts, “I think our friendship is normal.”

“Of course you’d think that,” you roll your eyes lightly, “What I mean is, it feels weird to go from being so close to strangers back to friends again.”

“Maybe but I personally feel pretty good about it,” he smiles big, “Seeing you on campus was crazy luck and then you were so nervous you wouldn’t leave my side the whole day, it was cute. Reminded me of when we were kids.”

A groan leaves you, starting to feel warmed by your embarrassment, “Shut up.”

“I’m glad we’re getting close again,” his hand rests on top of your head and pats a few times, “Stop thinking so much about the past.”

You don’t have any problems with the past, it already happened, it’s what’s coming that has you feeling so unsettled. Gojo’s hand on the top of your head slides down to the side of your face, his hand caressing you. He grabs you and pulls you closer as he leans in, always so quick to invade your personal space like it’s also his.

He simply utters, “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” You nearly sputter at him, the proximity and intensity of his eyes making you nervous.  

Those eyes narrow at you in response, “Worrying.”

You change the topic, “You need to stop getting in my personal space.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he exaggerates, “Am I in your personal space?” He moves in closer, his cheek pressing to yours, the hand on your other cheek holding you still.

You’re laughing before you have a chance to stop, struggling against him and breathlessly telling him to stop, “You’re so annoying! You’re no better now than when we were kids!”

A gasp pulls from you when you both slip in your struggle, your back meeting the couch seats. You’re expecting the heavy weight of Gojo falling on top of you and wince in preparation but when it doesn’t come you squint your eyes open. He’d caught himself with a single arm, hovering over the top of you with a large grin on his face.

The position is suggestive and has you flustered; your eyes wide as you search your brain for the right thing to say. Gojo isn’t bothered in the slightest, smile unfaltering, “It’s adorable how easily flustered you get.” He bops the tip of your nose with his free index finger.

Quickly, your expression drops, brows furrowing, “Get off me.”

Gojo can’t seem to help himself when it comes to you though, faking deep thought at your command. Eyes scanning up and down your body, “Hmm, and if I don’t?”

“I’m gonna hurt you,” threatening through clenched teeth.

It’s almost like he lights up, always enjoying going back and forth with you like this, “Promise?”

“Gojo,” you warn.

He whines at you, “Why do you still call me Gojo, use my name… like you used to.”

You’re a little taken aback by his request, you’d been trying to be polite. Your brain shuffles through the things you could say right now, something smart or funny or just giving into his request. His eyes on yours are imploring, waiting impatiently for you to call to him.

“I’m not gonna do that,” your head turns from him to avoid his gaze, having decided on defiance.  

Dropping to his forearm, his head follows yours so he can stay in your line of sight. He’s pressed too close to you now; you’re getting embarrassed by his shamelessness. Your palms move to his shoulders to push him back but he’s holding steady.

“Come on,” he draws out his words, “Please, just once. Please. Please. Please. Please.”

He’s so annoying, he repeats his pleas over and over while you shake your head at him.

He changes his methods, seeing he’s not getting far with begging, “I’m not getting off you until you do.” Hand reaching for your face again, manoeuvring you so he can pull you to look at him better.

The way he’s looking at you makes your heart flutter, a pleasant feeling that upsets you. If he keeps looking at you like this, you might go insane. Against your will, your eyes flit to his lips before quickly snapping back to his eyes that are now crinkled with his too big grin.

You pout at him, “I feel like giving into you here doesn’t bode well for me.”

So obvious in how he looks to your lips, slowly tracing your features before locking with your gaze again, “That could be true but not giving in here might not bode well for you either.”

Maybe letting him win will be easier in the long run, you don’t want him becoming more difficult than he already is, “Just once…”

His eyes light up at your acquiescence, suddenly waiting so patiently for you to continue. Just as you’re about to open your mouth to hesitantly utter out his name, your apartment door swings open. Ieiri and Geto kick off their shoes and stumble into your living room. Gojo only groans and drops his head to your shoulder. Disappointed by how close he was to hearing you call to him.

You stutter and fumble over yourself at how he’s dropped onto you, your hands pushing at him, “Gojo get off me!”

“If you’re gonna invite people over maybe don’t try fucking right before,” Ieiri sighs at Gojo like his disappointment is his own fault.

Quick to dispute the accusation, “W–we weren’t doing that! He’s just all in my personal space like usual.”

“Satoru, get off the poor girl,” Geto rounds the couch and pulls Gojo up by the back of his shirt, “Don’t you put her through enough already?”

“You guys have the worst timing,” he grumbles back at him.

Geto lets him go and shrugs, “You’re the one who invited us over, maybe don’t give us a key next time or plan your flirting better.”

“I think you guys have great timing,” you smile at them both, grateful for the save. Especially since the situation was quickly slipping from you. You can’t believe you almost gave into Gojo; he’d absolutely only get worse if you had.

As you sit up properly, Ieiri comes up behind you and strokes the top of your head soothingly, “Would you like us to kill him?”

You laugh at her suggestion, “Thanks but I still need him for his half of the rent.”

Geto and Ieiri are kind and you like them, you’re still a little uncomfortable around them since they’re not your friends. They’re Gojo’s friends that he made in high school and he tends to have them around plenty enough that you’re friendly with them but not much more than that.

As you get off the couch to leave them, Gojo’s hand grabs your wrist, “Where are you going?”

“What? I…” You’re confused, “I was just gonna go to my room and leave you guys to hang out?” He pulls you back to the couch and you collapse into it. Pulling your wrist free, you slap at him, “What the hell?”

He’s unphased by your slaps of admonishment, “You’re gonna watch a movie with us.”

“Do I get a choice?”

He beams at you, “Nope.”

The other two just sigh at Gojo and his antics, moving to get comfortable on the couch themselves. You try to get up again but Gojo is quick to pull you down by the back of your shirt. “I just wanna get a blanket,” you pout at him.

The expression he makes is sheepish and cute, “I’ll get it… sorry.”

Without him in the room you feel nervous and uncomfortable, the silence between the three of you unbearable, “Uhm… sorry about earlier.”

“Don’t worry about it, living with him must test your patience daily,” Geto smiles in a way that eases your nerves slightly.

Ieiri looks around him to look at you, “What the hell was he even doing to you?”

“Ah…” you falter slightly, not sure how to tell them he was tormenting you into saying his name in a position that had suggestive undertones. Maybe overtones is more appropriate here.

“I didn’t do anything to her,” Gojo defends as he comes back into the room, “I just wanted her to say my name instead of always calling me ‘Gojo.’” He flicks the blanket out and places it down over top of you gently, “You guys ruined it though.” Grumbles coming from him as he sits down beside you again.

“You harass her too much, you don’t deserve to be rewarded for that,” Geto rolls his eyes before looking at you, “Don’t reward him for his bad behaviour.”

“I try not to,” you pointedly ignore Gojo’s sounds of offence from beside you.

Geto’s eyes sparkle with something devious as he calls you closer as if to tell you a secret. He whispers into your ear and it sends an involuntary shiver down your spine as you try to focus on his words. As you take in what he’s saying, an evil smile breaks out across your face. Gojo’s quick to get nosy, a hand on your shoulder pulling you back.

“What did he say?”

Chirping back at him, “Not telling.”

Gojo continues to hound you for a bit before Ieiri speaks up, “Can we pick a movie? I have other plans tonight you know?”

Geto agrees with her, “What genre?”

And just when you thought you’d have the upper hand for a bit, Gojo slaps you back down, “How about horror?”

The other two go along with it easily, fine with watching something scary. Apparently a newer film has just come to streaming and they’re all interested in it but while they talk about how good it seems, you’re semi spiralling. You look to Gojo, wondering if he remembers how much you can’t stand horror movies and by the shit eating grin on his face, you’re guessing that yes, he does remember this about you.

Ieiri must pick up on your hesitance, calling your name softly, “If you don’t wanna watch something scary we can watch something else.”

Geto turns to look at you, noticing your apparently obvious anxiety, “I’m cool with whatever.”

You feel awful, they came over to hang out with Gojo and they all want to watch this movie. Even though evil man next to you swayed it this way you don’t doubt they’d probably have watched it anyways if you weren’t here.

“No, it’s okay! We should watch it,” you give your best smile and they both seem placated by it, relaxing back into the couch.

A tug on your sleeve draws your attention back to Gojo, his joking expression gone. His voice lowered so the others can’t hear, “If you really don’t want to, we can watch something else… I was just teasing you.”

“I wanna watch it, I’m not a kid anymore,” you brush him off. They’re his friends and it’s his time with them, you don’t want to take that away from them.

He squints at you sceptically but jokes, “If you get scared you can always sleep with me tonight,” he winks and you dislike the way it makes you feel.

Scowling, you turn away from him but he only chuckles, pleased with your reaction. Then he’s starting the film, looking over to you a few more times before seemingly settling in his spot.

Scary movies themselves aren’t so awful, you can get through them, it’s the going to bed at night that’s less pleasant. It’s not like you think any of the monsters are real, it’s just that some small, irrational part of you has you feeling an awful dread. Laying in your bed at night and not opening your eyes for fear that something will be there looking back at you.

It's silly and something you wish you could say you grew out of but irrational fears aren’t known for being rational, the opposite in fact. It’ll be okay though, for a bit you’ll be a little scared of the emptiness of your room during the long hours of the night but that will pass.

The further into the film you get, the more antsy you become. It’s doing a good job of building tension and unsettling you and every moment that’s meant to frighten you, does. And while this is true for you, everyone else seems completely fine as they watch.

You’re actively fighting against yourself to not jump at the parts you’re meant to jump at, sufficiently scared and embarrassed over it. Nibbling at your lower lip as your eyes squint shut at a particularly loud part.

Something brushing against your hand has your eyes popping open, startling you. Looking down, you can see Gojo has slipped his hand under your blanket and blindly reached for yours. Once he’s found it, he takes your hand in his and squeezes once, his larger hand giving you a small amount of comfort.

The action doesn’t go unappreciated by you, relaxing slightly as he covertly holds your hand, hidden away from the two sitting by your side. Now every time you’re frightened, you grab at him and he simply brushes his thumb over your skin soothingly. It’s intimate and makes your heart flutter like it did earlier when he was on top of you. The movie is easier to get through like this but you can’t help but feel like your relationship with Gojo is on a precarious ledge.

When the movie is finished, your hand slips from his and you can’t help but notice his hesitance in letting you go. After that the night doesn’t go on for much longer, the four of you ordering dinner and eating before Ieiri and Geto are being walked to the door by both you and Gojo. Ieiri is ready to leave, eager for her other plans.

The way Geto looks at you reminds you of what he’d whispered to you before the film, a look of realisation crossing your features as you smile at him and Ieiri, “I had fun, bye Ieiri… S–” you hesitate before pushing through, “Suguru.”

Geto’s smile is huge as he returns your name, “Have a good night.”

Ieiri’s chuckle is quiet but doesn’t slip your notice and when you look to her, you see she’s looking at Gojo whose expression is dumbfounded. It’s like he’s an old computer slowly booting up, “Hey! Hey, what the hell!” He points between you and Geto.

Geto acts like he has no idea what’s set him off, “What?”

“We’ve known each other way longer!” Gojo whines at you.

You’re staring blankly at him, “Gojo, you’re being weird…”

“No! No, you’re being weird,” his hand clasps your shoulder, pulling you to face him instead of Geto. His other hand points to himself, “My name, say my name.”

You blink at him, “Gojo.”

He groans back at you, his shoulders slumping as he falls into you. His head sagged on your other shoulder as he laments this turn of events.

Ieiri adds fuel to the fire, “Call me Shoko.”

“Shoko,” you smile bright back at her, whether she offered just to further Gojo’s torment or not doesn’t change how happy you are to get a little closer to her.

“Oh!” She smirks at you, “My heart just skipped a beat,” she pinches your cheek, “You’re cute but I gotta go, bye.”

You wave awkwardly at her as she shuffles out the door, still being clung to by Gojo. He’s wallowing, “You have to call me by my name now, you have to.”

Geto pats Gojo’s back, you can’t tell if he actually feels bad about what he’s done or if he’s mocking him. He smiles politely at you, “Have fun with this!”

“Right… bye Suguru,” you wave him out too, now alone with a depressed Gojo who won’t let go.

Maybe you should’ve thought this through… the blowout feels like Gojo is about to get much more annoying and you’re the only one who has to live with him. “Would you get off me?”

“You’re so awful to me,” he fake sniffles.

“It wasn’t my idea, blame Suguru.”

“You’re even still calling him Suguru,” he collapses further into you, maybe he should’ve majored in theatre… since he’s so dramatic.

You sigh and stroke his hair soothingly a few times, hoping to calm him. “I’m sorry.”

He pulls back slightly to look at you through his lashes, “So you’ll call me Satoru?”

“I didn’t say that.”

He stands to his full height again, looming over you, “Why not?”

“Because you want it so bad,” a half truth, the other half is that it feels so intimate, especially now, especially with him.

“So, if I say I don’t mind, you’ll say it sooner?”

“Would you mean it?”

Thinking on it for a second before he decides, “No.”

“Then no,” you shrug and walk away from him, going to get ready for bed.

⁀ ⊹ ₊ “

The room is so silent and the dark is all consuming, you’re staring at your plain bedroom wall trying to work up the courage to roll over. The irrational fear that someone is behind you nagging in your brain, you thought since you were in such a good mood earlier that you’d forgotten about the movie but the unease is still deep in your bones.

Taking in a breath, you move quickly and roll over, flinging your legs over the side of the bed as fast as you can. Scuttling out the room, you find yourself at Gojo’s bedroom door. His offer earlier had definitely been a joke, you’re certain of that much but your room is scary and it’s worse because you’d only moved here a little while ago. It’s not like your familiar childhood home, this place still feels weird, specifically during the night.

Everything feels different at night and less recognisable and it’s made worse by how alone you feel. When something like this happened as a kid you’d at least feel soothed by the sound of someone up late watching television or the rattling of someone searching the fridge for food. This is unfamiliar and lonely and you wish you didn’t feel like this but since you do, you’re going to wake Gojo up and force him to hang out with you until you’re too sleepy to be scared.

Quietly you slip into his room, approaching his bed with light steps. His form is all spread out, making full use of his bed with his whole body, much like how he spreads out wherever he’s sat. It shouldn’t be an endearing quality but you can’t bring yourself to hate this about him, especially since he’s a fairly big guy.

He looks cute, you wouldn’t say it’s a peaceful sleep since he keeps pinching his brows as his lips move just slightly, like he’s speaking in his dream. But he looks cute, distinctly him. Staring at him like this is becoming creepy so you reach your hand to him, trying to wake him as carefully as you can.

Your touch is gentle but it wakes him easily, he’s always been a light sleeper. He rubs at his eyes with the back of his hand, making sleepy noises of confusion at you.

“I need you to wake up,” is all you say, like it explains why you’re in his room this late.

Gojo grunts at you, “What for?”

His voice is deeper than usual, words lazy with sleep. It makes your head fuzzy, enjoying how he sounds too much. Pushing aside your stupid feelings, you murmur, “I can’t sleep…”

A noise of unsurprise leaves him, eyes squinting up at you, “You should’ve just said you wanted to watch something else.”

“I was fine with watching it though.”

“And that’s why you’re waking me up? Because you’re fine?”

“I just need you to stay up with me until I’m too tired to be…” You trail off, not finishing your sentence.

Gojo finishes it for you, “Scared?”

“Will you just stay awake with me? Please?”

“No,” he slides over to the side of the bed furthest from you, “But my earlier offer stands,” he pats the empty side of the mattress.

He cannot be serious, “I’ve seen how you sleep; I think you’d suffocate me.”

Your name leaves him in an exasperated groan, “Just get in the bed, scaredy cat.”

It’s either this or go back to your empty room and as much as this feels like a bad idea, he’s making you feel better. “Stay on your side.”

“It’s my bed, the whole thing is my side,” he argues back.

Crawling onto his bed and getting under the covers you mutter, “Just don’t try to kill me with your stupid long limbs.”

“I promise nothing,” he stretches his arms up with a yawn.

A few moments of quiet pass and you assume he’s gone to sleep, his back now facing you. He’s so broad, looking at him like this makes him seem like a giant. Without really thinking it through your hand reaches for him, grabbing the material of his sleep shirt with your thumb and index finger.

Gojo mumbles, you can’t tell if you’ve woken him again or if he’d still been awake, “You good?”

Withdrawing your hand as you mutter, “Yeah… I’m just sorry… for waking you.”

He turns to face you, puff of breath leaving him when he flops onto his other side, “Don’t worry about it, I knew you didn’t handle scary movies well when I suggested one.”

“You knew I didn’t handle them well when we were kids, I’m an adult now,” you counter.

A low hum comes from him, “You’ve not changed very much.”

“You have,” he’s undeniably changed from when you were kids.

His interest is piqued, “How so?”

“You’re more annoying now,” you poke at his chest, “And meaner.”

He denies, “I am not mean.”

You look away in thought, “Hmm… maybe not mean but you’re cruel.”

“That’s worse.”

“You’re a tease,” you settle on.

He’s willing to concede, “I can’t deny that.”

“Because it’s true.”

“You get it the worst though,” he reaches for your hand poking at him, fingers unfurling yours and taking them in his.

Ignoring the way his touch makes you feel you sigh, “I have a feeling I knew this already.”

“I can’t help it; I like teasing you.” He smiles, “Your reactions are cute.” He uses his hold on your hand to tug you in closer to him, your front nearly colliding with his.

Suddenly, you’re nervous, “What are you doing?”

“Teasing you,” he answers easily, like it’s obvious.

You’re avoiding his eyes, looking to his throat, his chest, anywhere but his face, “Could you not?”

“I could,” he pauses, “but that’s not as fun.”

You’re so close to him, you rest your forehead onto his chest, “Gojo… if you’re not careful, I’ll start mistaking your teasing for flirting.”

“You wouldn’t be mistaking anything,” he half laughs, “If anything… you’d finally be catching on.”

Did you suddenly drift off or something? You pull back to look up at his face, “What?”

“I’ve been flirting with you the whole time,” he blinks at you, “to be honest I’m really surprised by how long it took you to realise that.”

Can it even be said you realised that? All you did was warn him of possible consequences, “I…”

“I’ve been laying it on thick too you know, I’m a little embarrassed for you,” he’s looking at you with faux pity.

Is he still teasing you, he might still be teasing you. Squinting sceptically at him, “I don’t know if I believe you.”

“Seriously?” He looks actually shocked; he leans down to level you with his gaze.

You frown back at him, “Stop looking at me like that.”

“I like looking at you.”

Okay, that one you could tell was flirting, “Gojo–”

He returns your name in the same tone, cutting you off. It’s tense, with your eyes locked and the now known fact that he’s been flirting with you for who knows how long. You should leave his bed but you don’t really want to. You’re so close now, not even having realised just how close you’d both moved to the other.

Gojo leans in as his hand leaves yours to instead hold your cheek, his lips pressing a soft peck to yours, once, twice, three times. When you’d caught on with his third kiss and kissed him back, he moves impossibly closer, his lips kissing you more. Feverous in how he pursues your mouth, becoming desperate in how he kisses you.

It’s making you dizzy and it’s hard to keep up with him, your hands reach for his shoulders and hold on. His hand moves for your hip, pulling at you, his lips insistent. Kiss messy and wet, his tongue licks into your mouth and you let it happen. Small noises leaving you at how good he’s making you feel from just this alone, he barely even parts to take a breath.

The hands you have on his shoulders push back; your breaths panted as you struggle to say what you want. “W–we should stop…”

He whines at you, disappointed, “Why?”

You stumble over your words, “Because it’s late and you’re sleepy and not thinking straight and–”

“–If you wanna stop that’s fine but don’t take this moment from me because of those reasons,” there’s something almost pathetic about him right now, “I’ve wanted to kiss you forever, don’t make me stop because you think I’ve not thought this through.”

His answer is surprising to you, taken aback by how needy he’s coming across. Instead of saying anything, you press a light kiss to his lips like he’d done to you. He’s quick to return it, lips demanding. His kisses are full and making you feel tingly all over, pulling a gasp from you with how he sucks your tongue into his mouth. This might make you crazy, you’re turned on and delirious.

Pressing your thighs together as slyly as possible, not wanting him to know just how worked up you are. The hand he has on your hip plays with the band of your pyjama pants, tugging them just slightly to dance his fingers along the exposed skin. Not moving any further than that, only gripping at you before sliding his hand back up.

The way he’s kissing you is breathtaking and yet also feels like he’s holding himself back, his fingers tapping against your skin as he refrains from exploring your body further. When he moves back, he nips at your lower lip and small moan slips from you. The sound pulls a visceral reaction from him, a soft groan leaving him as his head collapses onto your shoulder.

His breath tickles against your skin, “Please let me touch you.” He sounds so pitiful even to his own ears, words laced with desire.

For a moment you’re not even sure you heard him right, “What?”

He licks at your neck, shiver running down his spine, “You’ve gotta be so wet, just let me touch you, please.”

You stutter out, “I– I’m not having sex with you like this.”

Tone whinged back at you, “Fine. That’s fine, just– let me touch you.”

If you were surprised by his need before then you don’t know how you’re feeling right now, “Okay, you can–” your words are lost when he rolls you onto your back, his hands shoving your pants off. “Gojo, c– calm down.”

Eyes barely glancing at you, “Can’t.” He’s far too eager, skin buzzing with his excitement, Gojo could almost swear he’s still asleep and dreaming.

Reaching over clumsily to flick on his lamp atop the bedside table, he needs to be able to see this. Oh, and he feels breathless at the sight of you in your panties, like the wind has been knocked out of him. Lower half dressed in innocent white with a pastel little bow on the front. Almost feeling like it’s his birthday and this is his new favourite present he’s yet to unwrap.

“This what you’re always wearing under all those cute skirts?” He mutters out at you.

You’re not even sure you’re meant to have answered until his eyes flit to yours, clearly waiting for you to reply. “Uh, not– not always.”

“Gonna have to show me,” he smirks at the thought, wanting to see you in and out of every pair of panties you own.

Large hands trail up your thighs, landing at the edges of your underwear and just when you think he’s going to finally tug them off, he pulls up. Your panties moulding to your pussy obscenely, leaving nothing to the imagination with how he’d forced them up. Gasping indignantly at him, hands flying to grip his, your legs squirming. His lecherous gaze greedily eating up the view of you like this, delighting in how you’re wriggling. Beyond embarrassed at his actions, somehow feeling more exposed like this than if he’d just taken them off.

“Gojo!” You whine at him, hands clawing at his when he pulls just the littlest bit more on the material.

He bites his lip, not even gracing you with eye contact, too busy to, “What’s wrong?”

“You– you’re such a– a…”

He mocks your stumbling, “A– a– what?”

“A pervert,” you settle on.

Small, dazed giggles leave him, “Yeah, yeah I am,” a hand moves off your hip. Instead, slowly dragging an index finger through your wet slit over your panties, a low growl leaving him at just how slick you are. “Just for you though, sweetie. I’m your sick pervert.”

Your breath catches in your chest, not expecting him to be so depraved, “Could you please– hah– stop teasing.”

“I thought I made it clear that– oh fuck– I like teasing you,” in awe at just how much wetter you got when he started talking, “Hmm… I think you like it too.”

Pouting back at him, “I’d like it better if you touched me.”

“But I am touching you,” he singsongs back, barely there touch dancing around your clit.

“I was ri–right earlier,” your hips shuffle desperately to try and get him to touch where you so badly need it but he expertly avoids your movements.

Hand on your hip pushing you down flat into the mattress harshly, “About what?”

“Hm?” Your brain feels foggy and it takes you a second to remember what you’d started saying, “You are cruel.”

A breathless laugh leaves him, “Sweetheart, you got no idea.”

The devious smile he gives you has you believing him, no doubt in your mind that he could be worse than this. Regretfully, you use your trump card, “Hah– if you ma-make me cum– ah!– if you can make me–”

He takes your phrasing personally, “Oh, I can make you cum, don’t even–”

You cut him off but every time you try talking he taps lightly over your clit with two fingers, “If! Y-you can make– hng– mee~ cum, I’ll say your name.”

That gains his interest, offence gone at the promise of hearing your lovely voice murmur his name. He crawls over your body, face meeting yours, “Promise?”

Nodding your head lazily back at him, “Promise.”

“Gotta seal it with a kiss,” smile dopey as his eyes drop to your lips.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you press your mouth to his in a debauched kiss. Tongue pushing into his mouth to lick against his own, his chest vibrating with a sweet moan. Gojo feels fucked and stupid at how you’ve kissed him, not fully expecting you to press your lips to his like that. He doesn’t even want to part, mouth moving against yours effortlessly.

Realising his complete unwillingness to pull back, you do it for him, parting with a wet pop that makes his spine shudder. Gojo’s unable to help the small sound of yearning that leaves him, he would’ve been happy to die from suffocation if it meant you were kissing him like that the whole time.

“Gojo?”

Your voice shocks him back to his body, he’d been staring at you all dazed, “Now I just gotta make you cum, right?” His canines show in his grin, confident in himself.

Nodding at him, “Please.”

He snickers, “Such sweet manners, pretty,” Already shuffling back down your body, his new favourite place coming into his line of sight. Cruelly, he blows cool air on your heated core, enjoying the way you twitch at it.

Big hands pressing between your thighs and pushing them apart, making room for his large frame between them. Feeling indecent in how wide he spreads you open, even more so when he lets out a low whistle at the messy state of your panties. You’re about to admonish him for purposefully embarrassing you when he’s getting comfortable between your thighs and pressing his face into your covered cunt.

Large gasp pulling from your lungs at his shamelessness, skin growing so much hotter when you hear just how deeply he inhales. Deep groan reverberating from his chest, a sound so gutturally pleased that it makes you shy. Legs fighting against his palms, wanting to hide yourself from him and his salacious actions.

Your hands push at his head, “Oh my god, Gojo?! Could you be any more shameless?!”

He doesn’t pull back, speaking into your pussy, “Sure I could.”

Immediately following up with an example, tongue lolling out of his mouth to press up against you. Drooling onto your underwear, already wet material growing slicker. More moans tumble from his lips at the taste of you, enjoying this so much that you’re shocked by how aroused he’s making you.

“You– you’re embarrassing me.”

Only humming back at you happily, words muffled, “You’ll get over it.”

You’re not sure if you believe him, feeling so self-conscious by his brazen desire and not seeing that changing any time soon. Feeling twitchy by how turned on he’s got you from it, you shouldn’t be this into it, you shouldn’t be this into him but you are and you need him to do more to you.

Gojo feels insane, salivating over the taste of your cunt on his tongue through your panties. Poking his tongue into your hole, stopped by the material separating him from you. Simultaneously frustrated and so horny, enjoying this much more than he probably should.

Voice coming out pitchy and bitten back when you call to him, “Please– hng– take ‘em off.”

“Someone’s needy,” he accuses like he’s not about to start humping the mattress below him. Your hips wiggle down into him and he stifles an amused laugh, “let me savour this a bit longer.” And then he sucks on the material of your panties, saliva thoroughly drenching the already sopping wet garment.

Relishing in the shocked squeaks you let out at his action, finding something so addictive about all the sounds and faces you make when you’re flustered and embarrassed. All at once he grows far too impatient, the taste of you on his tongue nowhere near enough anymore, not when he knows you’re leaking divinely and honeyed sweet for him.

Hands rushed and frantic as he pulls your panties down, quickly realising that he’ll need to move to pull them off properly. He’s completely unwilling to move further than he has though so he simply tears them from your body, chucking them over his shoulder to let them fall in tatters.

“Gojo! Those were one of my fav– ah!–”

Not even bothering to listen to your full complaint, immediately diving in to slurp obscenely at your gooey cunt. His eyes roll to the back of his head when he finally tastes you directly, cock twitching in his pants as he moans. Tongue wasting no time slithering into your tight heat, feeling out of his mind as you throb and whine for him.

Why couldn’t you have realised he was flirting earlier? He could’ve been doing this so much sooner and the thought he’s been missing out makes him feel devastated. How many nights did you touch yourself while he was one door down and why is he suddenly jealous of your own hand? His tongue moves inside you and your back arches, a shaky hand reaching down for him which he takes in his own – he doesn’t want you moving him because he’s pretty sure he just found your sweet spot.

Repeating his movements just to get the same huffed moan and full body reaction he got the first time, a lazy smile on his face at the realisation. He has you wrapped around his finger now, sending you wave after wave of pleasure but never enough to make you cum. No, he’s having too much fun teasing you right now and he also knows that as soon as you cum this is over and he’s not ready to part with your gushing pussy just yet.

God, he’s like a fucking animal as he licks and sucks on your cunt, frenzied but lazy look in his eyes every time your gazes meet. He’s got you feeling like a real mess, head dizzied and heavy with the pleasure that’s soaking into your bones. Beyond turned on and so so ready to cum, at first your foggy brain thought maybe he didn’t know but now you know he’s just toying with you.

His deft tongue hitting all the right spots just until you’re about to finish only to start being evasive enough for the high to slip from you all too soon. It’s absolutely intentional and it’s hurting your feelings, why won’t he let you cum? Why does he like teasing you so bad?

Pleasured mind taking it all too personally, eyes wet and glazed when you whimper down to him, “Gojo– hah!– please– hng– please let me cum– mmph–” your voice hitches with your words, “I– I thought you wan– wanted to hear me– ah!– say your name?”

Gojo feels his dick leaking into his pants at the pitiful way you whine at him, finding it all too endearing that you’re this worked up over him. It makes him want to tease you a little more but he’s nothing if not pathetic for you and he’s all too quickly giving in to the cute sounds of you begging him to let you cum. He really could make out with your pretty pussy forever though.

Humming at your continued whimpers and pleads, trying to give reassurance that he’s about to be oh so nice to you but the vibrations have your thighs shaking so much more. Hips fighting to grind down into his face only to be steadied by his large hand on your hip, frustrated sounds leaving you at his continued resistance to help you get off.

Instead of trying to get you to understand, he’ll simply tongue fuck you until you climax. Focusing on that spot he found earlier, pressing his nose into your clit, loosening his grip a tiny bit so you’re able to grind down into him. Fuck, he might die if he lets you ride his face, to be used by you for pleasure could have him cumming untouched.

It’s perfect, it’s so perfect he just needs to not move. You try to tell him as much, “Don’t!– Don’t fffucking– I’m so– hnng!– ah!–”

You’re not even able to finish any of what you attempted to say, orgasm hitting you out of nowhere in the middle of trying to talk. Vision going dark as you shake and shiver through your climax, cunt pulsing around his tongue, desperate to be stuffed so full. You’re struggling to breathe through the best orgasm of your life, hand gripping onto Gojo’s tight as he keeps lapping at your achy pussy.

Gojo is in love with how creamy your delectable cunt is, he’s pussy drunk and feeling like he can’t stop. At least he wouldn’t be able to stop if it weren’t for the raging hard on he’s got, so hard it almost hurts. Reluctantly, he’s pulling back from your pussy and if you were just the tiniest bit more aware of your surroundings you’d feel bashful about how messy Gojo’s face is.

Not even bothering to wipe his face, tugging his shirt over his head quickly before slipping his hands under yours, not taking it off but pushing it up to expose your tits. Big hands groping at you, lightly pinching your nipples when he asks, “You still with me?”

“Uh huh,” nodding lazily back at him, limbs heavy and head buzzing. Watching him and the thinly veiled feral expression on his face as he palms your tits has you stifling down a moan.

There’s such an adorable look on your face, stupid and satisfied. Gojo’s barely holding onto his last thread of sanity, he wants to fuck you so bad but he said he wouldn’t, so he won’t. Resting a hand on the mattress he leans down closer to you, lips brushing the skin of your cheek before kissing your mouth sloppy.

You’re holding onto him, fingers digging into his shoulders. Unable to stop the small sounds he’s drawing from you, the effect he has on you sinful and unfair. Thighs rubbing together as his tongue licks at yours, low rumbles pulling from his chest. Still so horny for him but far too embarrassed to ask him nicely to fuck you.

Lips parting the smallest amount so he can ask, “Where’s my prize for making you cum?”

And now you’re remembering what you had promised if he managed to make you cum. Maybe if you were in your sane mind you’d try and wriggle your way out of it but considering he made you cum so hard you can’t even compare it to anything else, you’ll say it.

Taking a quick breath in and averting his gaze, you mumble, “…Satoru.”

His body reacts a whole lot more to that single call of his name than he thought it would, shiver running down his spine and dick twitching in his too tight sleep pants. Slumping down into you and whining, “Your voice is so pretty.”

Turning his head to the side, he latches onto your neck. Sucking a love bite into your skin, teeth nibbling at you before pulling away and licking over it.

He’d caught you off guard with it, gasp leaving you, “mmph– Gojo–”

He singsongs back, “–Satoru.” He nips at your skin lightly, “Say it again.”

His gaze on you feels heavy, watching your mouth carefully to see how the word forms, “Satoru.”

Eyes falling shut as he groans, savouring this for a moment before pulling from you and leaning back on his knees, “Sweetheart…” Large hands holding your thighs together by the knee as he asks, “can I fuck your thighs? Please?”

That was one of the last things you had expected him to ask of you, his straightforward request making you feel shy. It’s not even like you’re going to say no but you can’t have him thinking you’re too weak for him, “Aren’t you being a little greedy?”

He smiles big at you, like he already knows you don’t fully mean it, “I don’t think I’m following, pretty.”

“I agreed to say your name and that was it and now you’re asking for more…”

“I asked so nicely though,” he points out.

“You’re still being greedy.”

“Mhm,” he hums noncommittally, clearly he’s stopped paying attention. Already lifting your lower half off the bed and throwing both legs over one of his shoulders. “I’ve still not heard an answer from your pretty mouth yet.”

He’s holding you up so effortlessly, strong forearm holding onto your thighs. Free hand reaching down for the waistband of his pants. His eyes look to yours, eyebrows lifting in question, “Where’d your words go?”

“Okay,” you nod at him quickly, suddenly all too distracted by the sight of his slowly lowering pants. Happy trail far too enticing for you to even think of delaying this much further.

His hand stops moving, “‘Okay’ what?”

“Okay you can…” your eyes flit back to his hoping he’ll settle for you not having to say the whole phrase but with the expression on his face – patient and waiting – you can clearly see he’s not going to, “Yes… you can… fuck my thighs.”

He groans, pleased with your answer, “Fuck, thank you so much.”

Pants pushed down just enough for his cock to be freed. He’s so hard it looks aching, flushed a pretty shade of pink and leaking precum from the tip and down the sides. His hand squeezes the base of himself a couple times, taking deep breaths.

Tapping on your leg lightly to catch your distracted attention, “Open your thighs just a bit.”

Doing as he asked without questioning him, legs still over his shoulder as you give him room to move. He slides his cock between your thighs, resting between your cunt so wickedly that it has you fidgeting. The hand that had guided his dick grabs the outside of your leg and pushes, your thighs closing around him.

Gojo’s head tips back as he fights to keep his senses, your skin so warm and soft that he feels a little crazy. Pussy still so wet and messy for him that he can’t help but feel that go straight to his ego, you want him and that makes him feel all giddy.

Below him, you start writhing impatiently. The underside of his cock is pressed up against your clit and now you feel like you’re throbbing with the need for him to actually fuck you open. The moans that leave him are so pretty and you want to hear more, trying to move a little bit more in search of added pleasure but he’s quick to stop you.

The muscles in his arms bulge as he restrains your lower half, head dropping forward to look down his nose at you. The look he gives you makes you feel small, hole twitching at it. You need him to move right now and you need it bad, every part of you screaming for it.

“Move?” your lashes flutter up at him, “I need you– ngh– to move.”

Exasperated but all too amused breath leaving him, “You’re so needy. It’s making me dizzy.”

Frowning at his words, “I am not– ah!–”

But he’s quickly drawing his hips back and dragging his big cock through your folds before slamming forward, the whole length of him driving you insane. Between your thighs feeling so soaked, brain melting all at once.

“Fuck, fuck fuck, fuck– this is– you’re too– hnng–” Everything Gojo is trying to say is cut off by either moans or a brand-new line of thought.

With every thrust he makes you feel a little less like a person and a whole lot more desperate for him. It feels good, really good, so good that you want more. The fact that you’re aware of the fact he’s not even inside you and you’re feeling this good has your brain short circuiting. Fingers digging into the sheets, attempting to ground yourself and completely failing.

Your pussy is positively weeping for him; to be filled by him and it’s taking all of his strength to ignore the way your hole is borderline begging for his dick. Brows furrowed as he focuses on slamming between your thighs, already feeling so pitifully close to cumming like this. How he’s even held on this long is a wonder to him, too close to cumming earlier when he was tongue deep in your cunt.

Hitting your breaking point, you whimper out to him, “Gojo– hng– just put it in– hah!– you can put it in,” nodding your head desperately at him.

Chuckling breathlessly at your whining, “I thought you didn’t– fuck– didn’t wanna have sex with me like this?” He recalls your earlier assertion.

“Hnn– I– ah– changed my mind?”

Biting his lip to stop his moans enough to speak, “You’re talking outta your pussy, sweetheart.”

“I’m not, I’m not– hah!– please put it inside, please.” Worried that you’re not swaying him enough but you want it so fucking bad, insides aching for him, “Satoru, please.”

Well that’s just playing dirty, a small whine slipping from him at your use of his name, stuffing it down just so he can seem composed when he replies, “Well, when you beg me so sweetly like that how could I ever say no?”

Dropping your lower half onto the bed makes you mewl at the loss of friction and he can’t help but laugh airily at your despair. Opening your thighs obscenely just to drag his cock through your sloppy cunt, shivering at how messy you are. Little hole shuddering for him, the sight of it makes him tut.

“Are you even gonna be able to take me, hmm?” he wonders aloud to you.

You’re already nodding back at him, “You can make it fit…” eyes wet and fucked when you address him, “can’t you?”

You may as well have just shot him fucking dead, “Of course I can.” Eyes glinting in the low light of the room, “‘Course I can.”

Slowly pressing into you, opening you up so lewdly on just the tip of his cock. Your hands already reaching for him and gripping onto the hands on your hips. The amount of control he needs for this is astounding and you’re not helping with how twitchy and worked up you are. Every time you show just how much you’re enjoying this, how much you want him, he gets just that littlest bit closer to cumming prematurely.

“Sweetie,” he calls to you, words barely bitten back, “I need you to relax for me.”

“I’m trying, you’re just so–” Your eyes drawing down to where he’s picked you up and started working you open, “–big.”

Involuntarily, his hips drive forward, the tip of him finally slipping into you. The both of you let out moaned sighs, you’re fighting the urge to kick your legs, already feeling so good and nowhere near close to taking all of him.

“You’re gonna kill me, you’re trying to kill me,” he huffs out, feeling like the snug fit of your cunt might actually kill him dead right now and his only regret would be not being balls deep already.

His words are rushed and pitchy at the tail end, like he’s so close to whining about how good it feels. The soft flush on his skin is pretty, expression all twisted in so much pleasure. Looking at him is making you feel too many things, overwhelmed by his cock and how attractive he is. Bringing your hands up to cover your eyes, hiding him from your view.

Your name rolls from his tongue in a soft moan, “What are you– hah– doing?”

His slightly trembling voice has you clenching down on him, “I can’t– I can’t look at you right now.”

“Hmm? Why not?” The smile he’s definitely sporting can be heard in his tone. “Am I turning you on too much,” he taunts.

Replying hesitantly but honestly, “Yeah…”

Gojo was not expecting that from you, his ego growing tenfold from the idea alone, the confirmation only serving to make him even more unbearable. Small giggles leaving him, “How embarrassing~”

Your arms drop in exasperation, going to frown at him but as soon as your hands are off your face, he’s sliding into you a few more inches. Your brain no longer capable of thinking of anything at all, its sole purpose now registering the immense pleasure he’s giving you. Moans broken and shocked at his unexpected move, if your hips were on the mattress you have no doubt that you’d be trying to buck up into him just to take him all.

“Want my whole dick, sweetie?” He hums at you, thumbs rubbing soothingly on your hips from where he’s holding you up.

Your eyes feel wet, vision blurry, “I– hah!– want it, all of it.”

“‘Course you do,” he smirks, “so turned on just by the sight of me.”

Future you will be cursing horny you for admitting that to him so easily, he will absolutely be reminding you of this later. “Sh– shut up.”

“You sure you want me to?” A single brow quirking in your direction, “I think you like my voice, pussy squeezes me so nice when I talk to you.”

And then he’s slowly sinking into you inch by delicious inch, taking care as he does, cautious of how your tight, little hole swallows his cock. Drooling at the lewd sight of your pussy bulging around him, small and bitten back noises leaving him as he pushes into you.

You’re taking him so well, wrapped so perfectly around him, sinfully wet and soft. Cunt so greedy in how you suck him in that he might pass out, trying to focus so hard on filling you completely before he blows his load.

Damn near whimpering when his pelvis hits yours, struggling so bad to hold completely still, softly grinding into you. His whole body feels like it’s buzzing, ears thumping as his blood rushes in his head. Completely elated to be so deep inside you, even more so to see the way you squirm under him.

Your eyes already look so fucked out and dumb, lashes fluttering, struggling to keep them open. Everything feels raw and exposed, mind numbed and complacent, “Move– hnng– you need to– hnn– move.”

“Wait,” he groans, eyes closing to control his breathing, whines still trapped in every breath he takes.

“But–”

“–So cute, you’re so cute– hnng– and you feel fucking fantastic, too good that I need– hah– a moment to breathe before I cum inside you, okay?” He rushes out, words tumbling over each other just so he can adequately warn you that he’s certain this will end early if he starts moving any more than this.

That was cute of him, his bitten back words and grit teeth followed by soft sounds of feeling just so good has your heart jumping in your chest. Struggling so hard to be patient right now, beyond worked up, pussy absolutely throbbing around him. So slick and only getting wetter, especially when he’s admitted to feeling so good from sitting balls deep that there’s risk of him cumming before he wants to.

Maybe distracting him will work, “I’m glad… we got to get closer again.”

“Oh, we’re close alright,” he snarks, looking down at where he’s fucked so deep inside your pussy that it should be criminal.

“You’re such a pervert,” you complain, “I was trying to help.”

Leaning down, he rounds his arms under and around your body, hugging you flush to him. He doesn’t let go of you even as he rises, cock pulsing so hot inside you as he kneels on the bed. You’re clinging onto him so tight, praying that he doesn’t drop you.

“You’re gonna drop me,” you worry.

Nuzzling his face against your cheek, “I wouldn’t do anything to risk losing the tight heat of your pussy, sweetie.” Planting a sloppy kiss to your cheek and then your lips, “Just make sure to hold on tight.”

“You can’t drop me,” you assert.

He soothes, “I won’t.”

Lips locking with yours again, the urge to kiss you sitting too heavy in his chest to ignore. Tongue licking against your own languidly, kissing you so softly, taking his time. Mouth hot and wet as his lips smack against yours, his cock jerking inside you at how it feels to have his lips on yours.

Every part of you is buzzing, his kiss much more gentle and caring compared to the frenzied and needy way he had kissed you earlier. It’s making your heart feel weighted, this shared moment where he’s so deep inside you and kissing you so sweetly feeling so tender that it almost hurts.

Keeping his mouth on yours as his arms move from behind you to grip your thighs, he’s not even sure you register the change, still kissing him back so devotedly. And all he can think about is how bad he’s got it for you now, nipping at your lower lip to make you gasp before kissing you full again.

Hips pulling back, the slow drag of his heavy cock making your spine shudder. Keening into his kiss, lips dropping from his to moan.

“You’re so pretty,” he compliments low to you just before he slams back into you all at once.

The breath you’d had in your lungs exhaled so fast it makes your head spin, pathetic and whingey mewls the only thing leaving you. The compliment he’d given you making you feel a sickening kind of gooey fondness, feeling bashful at his sincere words. His kindness juxtaposed by the harsh way his dick is fucking into you.

Soft and delirious giggles leaving him, “You liked that~” He purrs, head dipped so his lips drag against your collar bone, “I’ll remember that.”

“D– don’t know– hnng!– what you’re talking about,” you babble back.

He coos at you, “I’m talking about– hah– how you liked being told– fuck– how pretty you are while I’m stuffing you oh so full.”

And you really wish you could lie to yourself about how much you like it, but your body is betraying you so severely, cunt gripping him tighter and gushing that bit slicker. Wet sloppy sound of him fucking you hard filling the room, squelching messy and lewd and embarrassing. So turned on that it doesn’t even matter, barely managing to garble out his name, moaning it over and over like a chant.

Back to being so horny and out of your mind that you can’t bring yourself to care about how needy and desperate you’re coming across. Hanging onto him for dear life as he thrusts so fast and deep that you’re seeing stars. His grip on your hips using you as if you’re a toy for him to fuck.

Tip of his cock hitting your cervix with each re-entry, hitting against every delectable inch inside you so completely and effortlessly that you’re starting to drool. “I– You’re so– ah!– deep!”

“Am I?” He stops thrusting, sitting as deep as he can go inside you, single hand drawing up to your stomach, “That means you can feel me here?” and then he’s pressing down.

You grip onto him tighter, clinging desperately, nodding fervently, “Mhm– yes– yeah–”

“–Already close, huh?” He notes. Your reaction so visceral, cunt pulsing around him rhythmically.

“Keep moving?” You rest your head on his shoulder, speaking into his skin, “Please, ‘Toru.”

Evil, that nickname for him on your tongue is so wicked and he doesn’t even think you realise you’ve just called him that. “You’re sending me to an early grave,” he mutters.

Hand back on your thigh in no time, lifting you with ease to keep fucking you breathless. Feeling absolutely devastated by how adorable you are, by how needy you are. Cunt positively creaming around him, saccharine sweet as your pussy begs for him over and over.

Tongue lazy in your mouth at you stutter out calls of his name, starting to have trouble holding onto him effectively. Gojo is the only thing stopping you from slipping back onto the bed, drooling onto his skin. Mindlessly, you press a soft kiss to his shoulder, and you just barely hear  the mewl he lets out because of it.

He’s so close to cumming, your loving kiss on his skin causing everything inside of him to go weak for you. “Sweetie, you feel so good– hnn– so so soso good,” he’s drawing in a shaky breath, “and now I need you to cum so good for me, yeah?”

Practically begging for you to cum on him, needing to feel it but you’re so out of it that you can’t reply coherently. Every word a sputtered whimper that you couldn’t stifle down without a hand on your mouth. You’re a complete mess and he feels so much overwhelming pride over the fact that he’s done that to you.

The only sounds you can hear anymore are the soft and sighed whines of Gojo holding back his orgasm, the lewd slapping of skin against skin, and the pleasant thrumming in your ears. The noises you assume you’re making not even fully registering to you, much preferring to hear Gojo’s anyways.

So close you can taste it and when he starts giving little rutted grinds of his hips every time your pelvises meet, you’re done for. Crying out broken moans as your cunt pulses hot and wet around him, cumming so hard you lose focus, vision dark and hazy and fucked so stupid.

You’re gripping him so tight, pussy trying to desperately milk him of everything he’s got. Veins in his cock throbbing against your walls so sinfully. Feeling so fucking sensitive with how he’d been holding back from cumming pretty much since he put his mouth on you.

Urgently, he gets your attention, “I’m gonna fucking– hnnn– cum, I need to–  hah–  I need to put you down so I can pull out.”

You only cling onto him tighter and shake your head, legs closing around him firmer, “Cum like this.”

And even if he wanted to argue with you a little more… he couldn’t. The lazy way the words formed against his skin and the cute way you’re drooling on him as him cumming so suddenly. Forcefully slamming into you a final time, dumping all of his cum so deep inside you and painting your walls an obscene creamy white. Hands gripping your thighs so hard that he thinks he might leave bruises of his hand prints behind. That thought alone making his dick twitch even more.

Feeling so boneless as he very carefully lays you down on the bed, his breaths coming fast against your skin as he reels from his own orgasm. Staying like that for a moment, pressed so close to you while you both come down from your highs. Aware enough to hold himself up by an arm so he doesn’t crush you under his weight.

As he goes to pull away he quickly realises you’re not about to let him go, “Gotta let me go, sweetheart,” he mumbles.

Brain taking a second to catch up to what he’s just said and the fact that you’re still clinging onto him, “Hm?... oh… m’sorry.”

His heart seizes in his chest, and he can’t help but press sweet kisses to your lips over and over, humming happily against you. Your grip loosens on him, and he fights against himself to pull back, there’s something he really wants to see.

Sitting back just to watch as he pulls out of you, his seed leaking from your gooey hole as he does. Shuddering at the view of it, his lecherous gaze lighting up at how much he’d cum inside you. As if on autopilot, his fingers collect what’s leaking from you and stuff it back inside, stroking against your inner walls.

His intention far from innocent, perverted touch making you twitch and whine. So hypersensitive from everything he’s put you through, one of your own hands reach down for his and grab at his wrist, trying to stop him.

“What’s wrong?” He asks through a smile.

You whimper at him, “Too sensitive, ‘Toru.”

Oh and there’s that nickname again, the one that make his heart skip a beat. “You’re okay, sweetie,” he hums as praise, “doing so well for me, you can cum one more time can’t you?”

You shake your head but your grip loosens and his grin grows wide on his face, he’s never forgetting how reactive you are. Still, he’s careful with you, he knows he just fucked you within an inch of your life, touch gentle as he fingers your pussy full of him.

Scissoring his fingers and gently rubbing circles into your clit with his thumb, “Your pussy is divine.” He continues cooing at you more, “Took me so well, so greedy for me, hm? So wet and tight, had me feeling like I was going crazy…”

You want to tell him to shut up, that he’s so embarrassing and shameless but your words won’t come. Mouth too occupied with letting loose the scandalous cries of pleasure you’re feeling, damn near pornographic in nature.

Back arching meanly only to be pushed right back down by his hand on you, trailing it from your sternum down your torso to just over your lower stomach. Lustful and plotting grin on his face when he pushes down, more of his cum leaving you only for his fingers to pull out to stuff it all back in.

It’s like he’s playing with you, getting a sick kind of enjoyment out of watching you squirm and leak with his seed. Already you’re so close again, barely having come down before he started finger fucking you, sensitive and dopey.

“Someone’s getting close,” he singsongs to you, the clicking sounds of him playing with your sopping wet cunt making your skin hot with shame.

Gojo puts effort into focusing in on that one spot he found earlier when he was tongue deep in your pussy, stroking you over and over, elated by the shocked and fucked look on your face. Body fighting so hard against its own pleasure and yet still greedy and begging for more.

Eyes rolling to the back of your skull as you cum yet again, struggling to breathe through it, whining out Gojo’s name over and over like how you did earlier. Twitchy and high strung and so so sensitive, thighs closing around his hand as you shake through your orgasm.

Forearm covering your eyes as tears slip from your waterline, everything feels so raw and electric and hot. Unable to even hear properly with how your head is rushing, all your senses dulled and simultaneously on edge.

Gojo tickles his touch up the outside of your thigh and you jerk at it, “Atta girl, did such a good job,” he compliments.

“I died,” you huff out.

“You didn’t die,” he wipes his fingers on your thigh, before crawling up your body.

You continue to complain, “You killed me.”

“I would never,” pulling back the arm hiding your face from him, “I like you far too much for that.”

Your only response back are begrudged grumbles that you don’t really mean. It’s hard to play angry at him well when you’re so high on your pleasure, body buzzing so pleasantly and head still dizzyingly content.

He smiles fondly at you before kissing you sweetly, lips lingering for a moment and then stating, “I’ll be back.”

And then he’s gone, and you’re left on the bed swimming in the relaxed and satisfying feeling thrumming through every inch of your bones. He shuffles around his room for a moment, changing into a clean pair of pants before scuttling out the door quickly.

Semi confused on where he’s gone until he comes back with a glass of water and a towel in the other, “Can you sit up for me?” You lay still for a moment, and it prompts him to check, “You can’t?”

“I’m thinking,” you don’t really want to get up, but you do, slowly dragging you body up to rest against his headboard.

He hands you the glass, motioning for you to drink while he sits down by your legs. Using the towel to gently wipe between them, careful not to touch you where you’re too sensitive. you finish the water and set the glass down on his bedside table where his lamp is lighting up the room.

Glancing down you quickly realise your shirt is still rolled up over your tits haphazardly, it suddenly feels dirty, you want a new shirt. “Gojo, can you grab me a shirt from my room… please?”

“Hmm?” He looks up to you and shamelessly stares at your tits, to which you cover them with your arms and frown, “I’m wiping my cum from between your thighs but you’re suddenly too shy for me to look at your tits?”

It’s not logical but that’s exactly how it feels, “Yes.”

Playfully, he rolls his eyes but gets up, discarding the towel in his hamper. He doesn’t go to your room though, simply tugging a shirt from one of his drawers. Walking back over to you with it in hand, “Arms up.”

Thoughtlessly, you do as he asks without question, arms raised up and waiting. Of course he takes the opportunity to blatantly stare at your chest, “Hey!” Your arms drop down.

An unapologetic giggle from him, “Sorry, sorry. Raise ‘em up again.”

You pout but you do lift them again and this time he actually takes your shirt off, it gets chucked over with the towel and the fresh shirt he grabbed is pulled over your head. It hangs off your frame and is clearly not your size but it’s comfy and soft and it smells like him.

Suddenly you’re feeling sleepy, eyes blinking slow as you struggle to keep awake. Something that changes when Gojo simply picks you up off his bed and starts walking out the room with you.

Yawning as you rest your head on him, “Where are we going?”

“To your bed, someone made a huge mess of mine,” he grins.

“And whose fault was that?”

Quirking a brow at you, “I’m pretty sure it’s yours.”

Feeling bashful as you pointedly look away from him, “Shut up…”

You both get into your bed beside each other, and you can’t help but snuggle into him, he’s so large and warm and it’s not even like you could avoid it because he was quick to wrap an arm around you and pull you snug to him.

Yeah… this friendship was definitely on a precarious ledge, and you tumbled right over the edge of it…

𝒂.𝒏. meow meow meow i hope you enjoyedddd,, this had been sitting in my writing folder since the middle of january and i couldn't wait anymore. i needed it finished and it's technically not because i had so many roommate gojo ideas that i couldn't add :< anyways !! THANKS FOR READING ILY❕

[⚠︎] — 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈.ᐟ do not reupload / repost / translate / plagiarise my works © all works are the intellectual property of lovelivision

"Cut it out!" Sanji cried trying not to stomp his foot. "Im big enough to prep the main course! Im not a little kid anymore!"

Zeff looked down at the scrawny nine year old spitfire.

"My hat is bigger than you eggplant," Zeff huffed. "Until youre taller than it, youll always be just a little brat in my eyes."

Sanji growled, but Zeff didnt miss the way he eyed the hat dubiously.

"Your hat is ridiculous!" He finally declared, stomping his way back to the corner to continue chopping vegtables.

If Zeff caught the brat measuring himself against the hat once or twice, he certainly didnt say anything.

And even if he heard Sanji muttering and complaining about it throughout the years, neither of them ever brought up how each time Sanji hit a growth spurt, so too did Zeffs chef hat.

Well, since MANY people seemed to like the first editions of Ace (I'm very flattered by the way, THANK YOU SO MUCH! 😳🫶) with the initial design (more specifically the Alabasta and Pre-Timeskip) I decided to bring you a part 2!

Cabin by the Lake | Take A Hike

Portgas D. Ace x F!Reader, Modern AU

03- When Luffy’s birthday turns into a group get away to a small cabin by a lake, you cannot deny his own brothers an invitation. Surely the week long get away would leave a lasting impression with his eldest sibling.

Note: listen hangovers are lame and let’s all assume Sanji knows the cure all for them w his cooking. also! listen! i don’t care what size you are. Portgas D Ace can and will manhandle you. so there is absolutely zero body side implications on our reader here (:

Sunday: Take a Hike

The morning starts far earlier than you would have liked after the previous nights events.

Voices boom through the kitchen as everyone is gathered around the breakfast table in waiting for the greasy breakfast meant to cure any lingering effects from last night. You join the group, the final stragglers taking their place, before Sanji is placing plates before every member. He pays extra attention to you and the girls, as always, presenting your own small plates of fresh fruit among the breakfast feast. With a chorus of thanks to the man, everyone digs in.

It was amusing to watch Luffy eating along side his brothers. He always had an insatiable appetite- one closely combated by Ace and Sabo- but he seems even more on guard as he keeps his plate tucked in close to his body. You knew the guy had a tendency to swipe food from your plates, and now you suppose that was a learned trait from growing up around two older brothers.

Moments of silence pass as everyone enjoys the food.

“Let’s go exploring today!” Luffy suddenly explodes forward with a smile, a fork still held tight in his hand despite his empty plate. “A hike in the woods!”

Robin hums in thought, “I don’t believe there are any marked trails around here.”

“Well that’s the fun in it! It’s an adventure!” He beams a blinding smile. “We’re like pirates or something! Exploring unmarked territory!” Luffy makes to stab at something on Ace’s plate but the man is quick to swat his brother away.

“Don’t pirates usually explore the ocean?” You prompt.

“Pirates can do whatever they want!” Luffy huffs out, targeting Nami’s plate next. He manages to swipe a piece of meat before she catches him, swiftly smacking him upside the head, but he was more than happy to take that punishment for the extra food.

“Fine by me, long as we don’t let moss head lead the way.” Sanji snickers to himself as he sips his glass of orange juice. The reaction is immediate, as it always is, Zoro shooting up straight in his seat.

“You got something to say, curly brow?”

“Do, uh, do you guys think there are bears in the woods here?” Ussop questions, poking at a strawberry on his plate nervously.

“Probably, I mean, they are the woods after all.” You grin at him, earning a glare.

Luffy suddenly gasps, “You think so?”

“You are not fighting a bear Luffy!” Nami snaps at him with no hesitation.

“Awh!” Luffy deflates into his chair with a pout.

“A hike sounds like fun, right Ace?” Sabo smiles in support of his brother, turning to the eldest to find his head on his arms as he snoozes right on the dining table. “Ace!” He swats at his brother’s head, curls flying up, before Ace slowly raises his head with a frown.

Ace glares at Sabo, taking in his expression for a moment, before giving a decisive nod. “Yep, sounds good.” He mutters.

Sabo huffs, “You don’t even know what you’re agreeing to!”

Amidst the yelling, Nami turns to you and Robin. “I’m in if you guys are.” She proposes.

But this notion makes you laugh. In all your adventures with your friend, it seemed like Nami was the only one who had a genuine sense of direction. The others simply wander off the beaten path, get lost, or some how get separated from the group. You very well know that the week will turn into wilderness survival opposed to an actual vacation without her. “Nami, you realize they’re all gonna get lost without you, right?”

Nami huffs lowly in acknowledgment.

“I’ll go,” Robin smiles to herself. “I think it will be fun to see what kind of land is around here. Maybe we’ll find something interesting out in the woods.” The thought seems to excite her, eyes a little bit brighter and a satisfied smile staying on her lips.

“Then it’s settled!” Luffy declares, food gripped in his hand as he sends you a cheesy smile. You look down to your plate to see that it’s suspiciously lacking. “Sanji! We need hiking snacks. Oh, and make sure to pack lunch too!”

↟ ↟ ↟ ↟ ↟ ↟ ↟

A distinct clacking sound fills the air as Luffy lead the pack with a stick in hand, smacking at trees as he passes by them.

“Remind me again why we agreed to this?” Nami prompts as you stumble down a decline together, following in Luffys footsteps.

You were approximately thirty minutes into the hike and the red head was already regretting her decision. Luffy, stubborn as ever, paid little mind to Nami’s navigation attempts as he ventured into the forest. He has a direction in mind and plans to stick with it, only requiring the assistance to get back to the cabin, or so he claims.

“I’m not sure what you were expecting.” You simply shrug as the girl bounces down a series of stacked rocks ahead of you- the most adventurous trail that Luffy could think up. “When Luffy puts his mind to something.” Nami waves her hand dramatically at your words.

You move to folllow after her, foot pressing in to one of the many rocks, when it suddenly slips from its place. A gasp pulls from your lips as you feel your body falling, only to be caught mid air.

Ace perches himself on the rocks beside you, annoyingly stable, as he holds your waist. He aids you in standing on your own two feet, a smile on his face as he waltzes a step ahead of you. “Careful there, doll.” His head tips to the side in clear amusement as your body once again lurches on the rocks. Ace grins as he holds out his hand to you, “Wouldn’t want you falling, now would we?”

You offer a glare that lacks any real malice before reluctantly taking his offered hand. His skin is warm and his fingers calloused, barely even a strain in his arm as he carefully guides you down the rocky path and to more stable ground. A smile pulls to his lips as you pause to look up at him with your hand lingering in his for a beat longer than necessary.

Warmth blooms in your chest as you offer him a smile of thanks.

Ace watches close as you push ahead to catch up with Nami.

Nami seems to walk with a new air about her as she turns to you with a wicked grin. “You know, you gotta be more careful, doll.” She drawls out the word exaggeratedly, batting her eyelashes and pouting her lips.

“Ugh, you’re the worst.” You huff out, shoving her shoulder and making you both stumble.

Nami’s cackle of a laugh carries through the trees. “I gotta admit, i’m actually a little jealous.” She shakes her head with a sigh. “Seems like you and Robin both have something going on during this trip,” She nods ahead where Franky and Robin are walking together, her hand placing on his arm as the two share a laugh full of lingering eye contact. “And i’m just left to watch it all unfold.”

“There’s nothing going on with me and Ace.”

Nami turns to glare at you, “Really?”

“Really, Nami, I barely know the guy.”

She shakes her head in response. “I don’t know, Y/N, we have a lot of guy friends and none of them go around calling us-“

“You remember that I know Sanji too, right?” You laugh.

“Okay, true, but Sanji calls all of us names like that.” Nami rolls her eyes. “Ace only says that stuff to you.” You can feel heat settling across your cheeks as you huff. “Don’t sweat it too much. You know me, I support women’s rights and women’s wrongs. So I support you no matter what you do.”

Your brows pull together and the words leave you before you can give a second thought, “And what do you think?” Namis head snaps around at the shift in mood and the lowering of your voice. “You think it would be wrong?” A smile tugs at her lips at this and you feel a bubbling of nerves in your stomach. “In theory.”

Nothing was going on.

Sure, you were well aware that there was just something that felt different about Ace. You felt different around him, comfortable even, despite how long you have known each other. And sure. Maybe there were a few lingering touches and soft gazes…

But it was nothing.

“Well, it’s obviously between the two of you,” She brushes her chin length locks from her face, lowering her voice and walking closer to you in effort to keep your conversation just between you. “You should go with the flow, but keep in mind that he’s Luffy’s brother. That could complicate things if things get complicated, ya know?”

You hum in thought and a beat of silence passes.

“In theory.” Nami adds as she bumps your shoulder with her own.

What felt like hours of sweating and stumbling through the woods continue, until Luffy reaches a clearing and declares that he is starving and it was lunch time. He plops down directly on the forest floor and digs into the packed lunch. Everyone follows his lead, except for Robin and Franky who squeeze together on a fallen tree trunk.

The sounds of nature fill your ears as everyone indulges in the meal Sanji prepared. Even with the knowledge of eating in the middle of the woods, he ensured the meal was perfection.

As you finish up your meal, your eyes cast around your group. Luffy and Ussop are busy tossing broken twigs at each other. Robin and Franky speak quietly together, arms pressed together at their close proximity. Zoro and Sanji bicker as Nami and Sabo ignore their input and discuss the walk back. Ace lounges back against a tree, arms behind his head and eyes closed, looking entirely at peace. You watch him for a moment longer and realize he is asleep.

A smile pulls to your lips.

The group relaxes a bit longer, stretching out sore legs after walking through uneven terrain for hours. You were almost certain that he would go on for hours more without stopping but that notion would certainly be met with protests.

“Alright!” Luffy claps his hands enthusiastically. “Nami, it’s time for you to lead us back!” The woman scoffs as Luffy shoves the empty container into his back pack.

“How did you even manage before me?”

“He got lost a lot until I came around.” Sabo huffs a laugh as he collects his things. “Not really sure what happened after though.”

“Me.” Nami laughs.

Everyone collects their things, ensuring any trash is shoved away, before heading off for the cabin. Nami takes front, Sabo at her side with a compass in hand, and Robin tagging along for the journey.

The group follows and you find yourself falling into step with Franky. The man is focused ahead, watching black hair swaying as Robin climbs the uneven terrain at the front- a bit too focused it seems. A tree root catches his foot and he nearly tumbles to the ground.

Franky catches your eye and the two of you laugh to yourselves.

“Careful.” You raise your brows knowingly.

“I’m all good.” He shrugs.

A song fills the air from behind you, Luffy sloppily keeping time by banging the stick against various trees. Ace and Sanji sing along with him and after what you’re sure is continuous prodding, Zoro monotonously joins in.

Occasional glances thrown Franky’s way, mind deep in thought, but unsure if you truly wanted to breach the subject in mind.

You purse your lips for a moment before finally making your decision. “You and Robin looked awful cozy.” Your elbow bumps against his arm. Franky laughs at this, worrying a hand over blue locks, before offering a half hearted shrug.

“We’ve always been close. Don’t forget that we are older than the rest of you.” He points out as if that had any real influence on their… friendship.

You scoff, “You say that like you’re an old man, Franky.”

“I feel like one sometimes.”

“Yeah, okay. Next thing we know we’re gonna hear all about how it was back in your day, huh?” You tease with a loud laugh.

“Well it was awful different, little lady.” Franky plays into it with a laugh. The silence that falls only gives way to the crunching of shoes on natures floor. Franky sighs, “She’s fun to be around. Let’s me talk about what ever I want and actually listens to me.” He laughs to himself. “As close as we all are, I know you can only handle so many stories from the docks.”

“That’s fair.”

“Plus, she’s super smart too. I like listening to her talk about all of her archeology stuff.” Franky smiles, looking ahead to where the woman walks. “When she talks about the stuff she’s into, she’s just so. So-“

“Cute.” A mischievous grin pulls to your lips as you stare up at him.

Franky laughs, “I wasn’t gonna say exactly that.”

“Ah but i’m sure you were thinking it.”

Franky clears his throat as he rubs a hand over his arm. “I dunno, bro. It’s just this trip I think, letting us all get a little bit closer.” His shoulders bounce in a shrug. “Around each other twenty-four-seven.” He hums in thought before turning his eyes to you. There seems to be something on his mind as he glances over his shoulder, but ultimately decides against it.

↟ ↟ ↟ ↟ ↟ ↟ ↟

Your legs are burning.

You’re all sweaty and tired by this point. There is nothing but relief that flood through the group as you break through the trees.

“Finally!” Luffy booms as he jogs ahead, dropping his bags by the steps of the cabin and looking over his shoulder. “Last one in the lake loses!” Then he is off towards the water still fully clothed.

“Tch, does he really think we’re all down for that right now.” Sanji shakes his head. Your group watches for a long moment until Zoro steps ahead everyone.

“Suit yourself then, loser.” He taunts.

This, of course, prompts the instant reaction of Zoro and Sanji racing into the waters. Ussop, Franky, Ace, and Sabo soon follow suit. You share looks with the two women at your sides who hold their own skeptical looks.

“I want a shower, not a swim.” Nami huffs out, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Let them enjoy their fun.” Robin laughs as the three of you trail towards the group of men. They’re busy splashing and dunking each other, simultaneously cooling off after a long hike and working up a sweat.

Luffy pops up from under the water, swatting Zoro off of him, before looking towards the three of you.

“Come in the water!” Luffy calls out with a grin

“No way!” Nami huffs defiantly.

“Come oooon!” He draws out. At your shared refusal, Luffy turns to say something to Franky and Ace. The three slowly walk towards the sand with Luffy in the lead. “Come on, don’t be losers.” Luffy whines as he approaches the three of you.

You all bristle on edge as they get closer.

“Luffy.” Nami speaks his name in a low warning.

“Just get in the water.” Luffy’s grin grows.

You eye Ace suspiciously, who only smiles sweetly back at you. “We’re fully clothed.”

“So are we, who cares.”

“That was a long hike, Luffy, we want to rest.” Robin adds.

“We have all night to rest.” Luffy simply shrugs. Nami opens her mouth to speak her denial, when Luffy lunges forwards to grab her. A yelp sounds from the woman as her feet leave the ground to be thrown over Luffy’s shoulder. She screams as she smacks at his back, yelling at Luffy to put her down, but this only makes him laugh harder.

Franky was quick to go for Robin as well, the woman attempting to fight him off as he tries to be delicate with her in spite of the goal. He eventually finds an opening and is left with no choice but throwing Robin over his beefy shoulder. She speaks her protest, feet kicking in the air, all to no avail.

Ace has his eyes set on you. You turn to run, feet kicking up sand and attempting to get away from the man while running on the uneven ground. Ace quickly follows right after you. The line of grass is right within your reach- until you feel your feet swept out from beneath you. You yelp in surprise as Ace cradles your body close to his to carry you bridal style towards the lake. Water soaks into your dry clothes almost instantly from the contact.

“Ace! Put me down!” Despite the annoyance, you’re laughing.

“No can do, doll.” Ace chuckles as he walks directly into the water.

The steadily approaching surface makes you gasp as Ace pushes further into the depths of the lake. “Ace, come on, you don’t gotta do this.” You plead at him, inadvertently pulling yourself closer to him in an attempt to evade the water. The man simply grins before you’re both splashing under the water.

He releases your legs but a hand still grips at your waist, ensuring that you surface with him.

Ace’s deep laugh echoes in your ear as you both stand and wipe the water from your eyes. “You’re the worst.” You complain, shoving playfully at his arm. This only brightens the grin on his face.

“Awh, you’re just upset that you were the last in.” He leans in a little bit closer, wet hand poking at your forehead, “Making you the loser.”

You gasp in mock offense, taking your chance to jump on the man’s shoulders to tug him under the water. Ace allows himself to fall with you and your bodies crash together under the lakes surface.

A blanket of wet curls covers Ace’s eyes. “I’m so gonna get you for that!”

You scoff, “You can’t take revenge on my revenge!” The mischievous smile he offers has you turning to swim away.

“Watch me!” He catches your ankle before you can kick away from him and drags you back over to him. You scream out a laugh as he easily scoops you up to toss you over his shoulder.

“Ace!” You squeal as he twirls you around, feet kicking.

Ace grins, “Hold your breath.” At the sound of the sharp intake of breath, Ace tosses you back into the water.

You fall back into the water with a smile on your face. There’s something so freeing about being tossed into the water by someone, like you were a little kid again. Like you’re safe and entirely carefree.

Water drips from the ends of your hair and into your eyes as you find your footing again. Before you’re even given the chance, hands brush away the locks and you’re met with the blurry vision of Ace staring down at you.

Breath catches in your throat as Ace opens his mouth to say something-

“Heads up!” The voice shrieks out and suddenly Ace is tackled into the water in a mess of black and blonde hair. Water splashes into your face and ripples around your waist as he disappears underneath.

Sabo is the first to surface, a hand flailing out and grabbing onto him as Luffy uses his brother to pull himself from the water. Ace is the last up, coughing as dark curls stick to his forehead, glaring at his brothers.

“Luffy! Sabo!” Ace yells at them both, shoving them back as the brothers laugh in his face. “Oh, you’re on!” He lunges forwards to grab Luffy in a head lock, the younger guy struggling to get out of his grip, until he is being tossed into the water. Ace then turns to target Sabo.

Loud laughs and the splashing of water echoes through the air. The burning in your legs and the extra weight of your clothes clinging to your body is but a distant thought.

Series Masterlist

tag list: @flooofity @zzzzzoey @certain-tragedies @kanekisheart @weirdothatreads

Just a Taste 18+

Summary: You don’t like pirates but when Shanks and his crew change your mind you can’t help but want to explore and you’re not talking about the sea.

Devil Fruit : Poison food / drink - ( Users can turn any food/drink they make into poison when they choose.  Even if the victims get themselves to throw up the poison, when ingested it becomes like a glue that lines your stomach preventing it from exiting your body ) *I will be using this in other works*

Warnings: 18+!! female reader! double penetration! Threesome! Pet names! Manhandling! Praise and degradation kink! Dirty talk! Flirting! Oral sex (f receiving)! Vaginal & Anal penetration! Reader has a devil fruit and it makes Shanks mad! Pussy spanking! 

Pairings: Shanks x fem!reader x Benn 

Words: 9K (it was for a writing challenge lol can't believe I managed to write this much it's been a while sorry if the smut is bad!)

You owned the only bar on the whole island, no other supplier of alcohol anywhere to be found and everyone on the island knew why and none complained. You were the silent protector that they needed, years of being robbed by stupid pirates, even watching your parents become victims to their dumb conquests. You wanted so badly to run away from the island but instead you stayed, making it your life’s mission to rid the world of as many cruel pirates as you could, one meal at a time. 

It was another regular day with the locals drinking and eating some of your great cooking when a young boy burst through the doors, “Y/N! Y/N! There’s pirates docking at the shore!” He was out of breath wearing swim shorts, clearly seeing them sail in from a morning of playing at the beach when the pirates appeared. You came over to him with your hands up and a gentle smile on your face, “Easy hon, breath. Remember you don’t have to be scared anymore. Just head on home and ring the bell on your way there, okay.” Giving you a quick nod, he rushes out of the bar along with the locals who give you a smile and a pat on your back. 

“Go get those filthy pirates!” 

“Yeah we can always count on you!” Another shouted on their way out making you smile as you shook your head at their silly antics. You were only in your mid twenties and it took a long time for everyone to trust your abilities since they all knew you since you were a child. After taking down one pirate crew all by yourself without lifting a finger though they knew they were in good hands, leaving all the pirates to you after that. So you casually clean up the bar and start wiping down the counters completely unphased by all the pirates that were coming up the hill. 

Shanks marched up the hill with his crew in tow behind him, his eyes scanning around the town with curiosity. “It’s like a ghost town.” Benn at his right hummed beside him in agreement, his body itching as he cautiously looked around. “Think it’s a trap?” He asked quietly, making Shanks raise a brow as he looked around spotting no one outside. 

“Not sure-” Shanks replies with a nod of his head pointing in the direction of a bar, carrying on after, “but there’s a bar.” Smirking Shanks decides to lead the way towards the bar that he planned on drinking dry. If no one was in the town, maybe the bar was empty as well. Walking closer to the old looking bar Shanks finally noticed you sitting in a chair by the door, your legs crossed as you sipped from a bottle of rum. A wide grin painting his face as his eyes scanned your body, you wore ripped tight jeans with heeled boots and a loose sweater that was off one shoulder, your hair pulled into a ponytail. 

“Hello gentlemen, what can I do for ya?” You smile before you downed more of your rum, not missing the way Shanks eyes practically sparkle as he looks at you. Shanks waves a hand at you as he heads your way, “Well hello darling, I’m just looking for a place my men and I could get a bite to eat and a drink.” He takes a glance into the empty bar before looking back at you with a charming smile. “You wouldn’t mind would’ya doll?” Smiling, you stand up and head inside with the men following you close behind, “Right this way boys~” You tease with a sway of your hips, Shanks glancing at Benn with a wink and a grin. 

Shanks crew waltz in taking seats at the table as Shanks and Benn follow you over to the bar watching as you go behind and start putting full bottles on the top for them to grab. “You must’ve had a long journey so please enjoy.” You smile politely making the men cheer as they start grabbing the bottles with excitement. “Very generous of you darling but I have to ask…where is everyone?” Shanks asks you as you give him and Benn a bottle. You wave your hand with a laugh, “Oh don’t worry about that love, they just get a little scared that’s all.” Your arms crossing against the bar as you lean over to distract them with an eyeful of your breast, “So~ do you handsome men wanna bite?” Benn and Shanks both couldn’t help the smirk that crossed on their faces as they both replied in unison, “Absolutely.”

A few hours passed, all the men happy in the bar with full tummies and fuzzy brains as the alcohol kept coming. You learned that they ran out of supplies faster than they intended and needed a good restock which made you wonder if after all this if they would raid your town. Your thoughts halted when Shanks leaned back in his seat with a sigh and a wide grin, “Whew! Jeez doll I gotta say- that’s the best meal I’ve had in a while!” Benn gives a nod as he lights his cigarette, “Yeah we might have to stay awhile.” Benn’s joke makes your chest tight and fist clench but you just give a smile. You let them all have as much beer, alcohol and food as they pleased before the real fun began. 

“Is anyone else on your ship? Maybe they’d like to have a meal as well.” You smile politely so you don’t seem suspicious instead trying to sound as sweet as possible. “Ah just one guy- man he would be jealous if he found out how good everything is.” Shanks drunkenly admits as he slaps Benn’s arm who only smokes his cigarette used to his captain’s antics. “Well in that case here you go.” You say as you make a large container of food for someone to take to that last remaining person. “Maybe someone could bring him some while it’s still hot. A gift for you all being so respectful.” Your pretty smile just puts Shanks in a trance so strong he shouts for someone to deliver the food to the last crewmate on the ship. “Hey Rockstar, be a pal and go bring this food to LimeJuice will ya?” 

“UGH~ fine I guess.” You see the man smile drunkenly as he stumbles over to take the food and deliver it to his crewmate. “Thank you hon.” You wink and watch as he leaves on his task with a wide grin. You waited about thirty minutes, which should’ve been enough time for the man named Rockstar to deliver the meal. You hoped they ate it quickly because you were starting to get antsy with the way these two guys were eyeing you. Yeah they were attractive but they were pirates, drunk ones at that, and it was only a matter of time before they started taking what they wanted.

“I gotta be honest with ya darlin… You are gorgeous.” Shanks tells you in a lustful voice as he leans closer over the bar and you put a hand to his chest shoving him roughly back in his seat. “Sit the fuck down pirate!” The way you bite out the word has Shanks sober up quickly, there was venom in your voice now, it was unmistakable. 

Shanks stood up with a smirk on his face, he must’ve thought you were joking, you scuffed as you pointed at him, “Don’t even think about grabbing that sword of yours you’re already a deadman.” You step back as you grab your own bottle of rum downing a sip, before you give him a smirk, “Same with the rest of your crew.”  Shanks' expression dropped to something more serious. “Easy darlin. How about you tell me what’s going on first? I thought we were having a good time.” Benn stands up with a cloud of smoke and you just know his fingers are itching to shoot you if anything goes wrong, but even a bullet to the head isn’t faster than you. 

“Tch! Yeah right! Me? Having a good time with a pirate? Ha that’ll be the day! Pirates are nothing more than lowlife scum, murdering whoever they please with no remorse, not even caring if they have children or not!” Your explanation is laced with hate and pain that makes Shanks frown, you see pity in his eyes which makes you snap even more. “Don’t look at me like that!”

“Like what sweetheart?” His voice was so…so kind and tender, like he wanted to just come over and wrap you in his arms, it pulled at your heartstrings and you didn’t understand why. 

“Like…like you pity me or something! I don’t need pity from some dumbass pirate!” You shout and Shanks only gives you a small smile. “Who did it?” 

What the hell does he even mean, is he asking who killed your parents? Why the hell would that matter to him? 

“It’s alright doll you can tell me.”

“I-I don’t know. I just know they were pirates, one of them had on these dumb ass blue boots. They burned more than half this town and killed my family. Ugh! It doesn’t matter who did it. What matters is that you’re all poisoned already!” 

Benn scowled as he looked at you, the trust he gained while drinking with you slipping like sand in the palm of your hand. “What poison?” 

“It’s my devil fruit.”  You start to explain and Shanks only shakes his head in what looks like disappointment but you didn’t care, kind of. “Any food or drink I lay my hands on becomes a poison but even if you make yourself throw up the poison acts like a glue that sticks to the lining of your belly. If I want to I can activate the poison causing you all to die quickly, but if you all leave this island now without causing any damage or harm I’ll let you all go. Get your supplies somewhere else and leave us alone.” 

“We didn’t mean any trouble…honestly darlin that ain’t really our speed.” Shanks’ smirk made you frustrated and you clenched your fists that rested at your sides. “Do you think I’m some kind of joke or something?” You snap and Shanks just shakes his head as he sits down. “Not at all darling, in fact I think you’re smart for not trusting us. I mean… we are pirates after all. I love seeing people protect what they care about. This town is lucky to have someone so fearless such as yourself.” Shanks grabs the bottle he was drinking and continues to chug it making your eyes widen in shock. 

Why was he still drinking it even though you told him you could turn it to poison?

“What are you doing?” You question in disbelief, the gears in your brain stalling as you notice the others in the back sit down again after seeing their captain’s calm demeanor. They weren’t scared, usually when you tell pirates they’re already poisoned they just leave or you have to kill them, but these guys just carried on like nothing happened. You even notice the man who Shanks told you was named Lucky Roux kept eating too. “Shanks! What are you doing I just told you-”

“I heard what you said sweetheart…I just …don’t care.” Shanks says as he downs the rest of the bottle, nodding his chin over to the others you had behind the bar. “Like I told you already pretty, we’re just here to buy supplies. Got the money to pay for it too.” 

“You…plan on paying?” Your shocked dumbfounded expression is adorable to the older men and they just smirk at you. “Yup.” Shanks grins as Benn follows in his captain’s footsteps by chugging his bottle as well before sliding it toward you empty. Taking another drag of his cigarette to speak with a cloud of smoke encircling him, “Go ahead and grab us another bottle baby doll 'cause we ain’t even close to drunk yet.” 

You swallow a lump in your throat, so confused on what to do, because as much as you wanted them to leave they just made you so curious. Why do these pirates act so differently from the rest? 

“Come on princess, we're getting thirsty.” Benn says snapping you out of your own thoughts and you grab the good bottle of rum you’ve been stashing then pour three shots, one for each of you cause you damn sure need it. “Cheers! To being poisoned!” Shanks cheers as he throws back his shot, the rest of his crew erupting in shouts and laughter as they take a sip of their drinks as well. You quickly have to refill your glass because this is so not what you expected when you had the town rush to their homes in hiding. 

“So darling is that why the town’s hiding. Are you like the protector? You get everyone to stay in their house while they leave you here to poison whoever steps foot in this place?” Shanks asks after taking another shot which you refill in under a few seconds. You give a head nod, your eyes staring at the bar top not wanting to make eye contact at those mesmerizing eyes any longer. He should be dead but for some reason you can’t seem to do it, something about him just didn’t feel like the others you’ve encountered. “Very noble of you doll.”

“What happens if I put a bullet between your eyes?” Benn says catching you by surprise and it makes your head snap up to stare at him. From this distance you wouldn’t have the time to snap your fingers which activates the poison, you weren’t gonna tell him that but from the look on your face he knew he had you cornered. “Just curious baby.” Benn smirks to keep you on your toes. 

“You’re too pretty to get your brains blown out.” Shanks winks, “Like I keep saying we’re just here for fun and supplies.” You give another nod and go to fill Benn’s glass when suddenly you hear a loud scream come from outside that causes you to drop the bottle, golden rum spilling out. Gasping as you rush outside, your face morphing into one of horror as you see fire in the distance. 

“PIRATES!” You hear people screaming and see the little boy from earlier running toward you, now wearing his pajamas, tears in his eyes. “I thought you took care of them!” He yells at you but then his eyes go big as Shanks and his crew step out of the bar hearing all the commotion. “You! It must be the two that you left on your ship!” You shout back and Shanks just shakes his head.

 “Ain’t no way doll. Look.” He points behind you in the opposite direction of his ship to the other end of the island. “The fires coming from over there doll, has to be another crew that just sailed in. We would’ve seen my men pass your door in order to get all the way over there. Besides my men and I don’t just start fires. You poisoned me and I still haven’t killed you.” 

You want to be angry at him but know that’s not the logical response so you only look back at the boy, “Where are your parents?” His eyes water and you just pull him close. “Listen to me, now is not the time to cry, okay? You need to go back to your parents and hide somewhere safe.” 

“O-okay!” He cries and runs back towards his home. Shanks catches your attention by putting a hand to your shoulder. “Hey darlin if you need a hand say the word.” You don’t know what to do as you stare at the town spreading in a fire, people running out of their homes and away from the danger. You hear gunfire in the distance getting louder and louder and your heart beats like a drum in your ears. You feel your hands shaking, your chest tight like you’re going to pass out until Benn comes to you on your other side. “You can trust us.” 

“But you’re …”

“Pirates. I know. So let the blood be on our hands.” Shanks smiles kindly as you look at him, finally you give a small nod after some thinking. “Head inside for me darling. Don’t want your pretty eyes seeing my dark side or it might ruin the rest of the night.” You follow his gentle command and occupy yourself with cleaning up the bar, picking up all the empty bottles that littered the tables. Your devil fruit was useless in combat if someone wasn’t willing to take a break to drink or eat something real quick. Chaos like right now only made you shake with anxiety as all you could do was standby and hope that you could actually trust these pirates but that’s what they were…pirates. 

You had the bar spotless from top to bottom in a few hours, the place smelling of a fresh pot of beef stew that you cooked on the stove. It grew low when Shanks and his crew almost ate the whole thing so you got started on a new batch just in case. You always liked to have a fresh batch just in case you have to use your powers on someone. You sat down on a bar seat and poured yourself a large shot, your buzz from early long gone unfortunately. 

“Awe~ drinking without us doll? I thought we had something special.” Shanks joked as he stepped inside along with Benn trailing closely behind. “You’re back?” You didn’t mean for your voice to sound so doubtful but what can you do? 

“Yeah sorry to disappoint you.” Benn smirks making you raise your hands in apology, “No I meant -”

“Easy darlin’ we’re just messin around. It’s all taken care of so don't worry that pretty head of yours.” Benn winks and you slowly sit back down with a question. “Where’s everyone else?” Shanks gives a sigh as he sits beside you along with Benn, both men caging you in. You felt the warmth radiating off of them and it made your body heat up in a slightly different way than you were used to. You’ve had sex before but never with anyone as attractive as these two men that towered over you. Or as dangerous. 

Benn leans over the bar and grabs a bottle and sets it down in front of you winking at Shanks who wore a big grin. The red haired man took the initiative to speak with a chipper tone, “So for saving you how about we play a little game?” 

“What kind of game?” You ask as you lean over and grab some shot glasses, both men taking the opportunity to stare at your ass and lower back that is exposed a bit from your shirt rising. Benn turned to face you with a smirk as his Captain did the same, “Oh simple, just twenty questions but we’ll make it interesting.” 

“Oooh take a shot whenever we want to pass?” You suggest and the two men chuckle, Shanks shrugging his shoulder, “I was gonna suggest removing a piece of clothing but if you wanna take a shot sure.” You burst out laughing and can't help the heat that rushes to your face, “Oh my gosh! I try to poison you all and yet you’re trying to see me naked?”

Benn holds up his hands with a smirk, “What can we say? We like 'em a little crazy.” 

“It makes the sex better.” Shanks adds as he leans toward your flustered face catching you off guard by his words. “I see.” You ponder their words and the whole day that has transpired and there was no doubt in your mind that you wanted them. So taking a deep breath you stand up and grab the keys to the bar as they watch you with intense curiosity. “Well I guess we could play your way but… we should probably take it upstairs to my place. I wouldn’t want anyone walking in to see me in my thong.” You tease as you head towards the door swinging the keys in your hand with newfound confidence, you don’t know where it came from but you think it was the rush of having two hotties fiend over you. Turning to look over your shoulder you winked at both pirates and gave a smirk, “You boys coming?”

“Absolutely.” They grinned and you laughed remembering them saying the same thing earlier that day.

You quickly found yourselves upstairs in your living room all sitting on the couch with more alcohol laid out on your coffee table for you all. “Okay since the game was your idea you guys should start first.” 

“After you captain.” Benn says as he pulls out a cigarette placing it between his lips but pausing right as he grabs his lighter. “Do you mind?” He asks and you just shake your head as you walk over to open the window a bit, lighting a warm vanilla sugar candle on your way back to the couch. “Ooo romantic.” Shanks teases and you roll your eyes as you plop down between the two of them and crack open your bottle of choice.  “Okay captain you go first.” You mock and miss the way Shanks sucks in a breath hearing you call him that but Benn doesn’t miss it and only laughs at the man while shaking his head. “Focus Red Hair.” 

“Yeah…yeah okay. Hmm- how about…favorite position?” 

“Ooo down to the nitty gritty huh.” You laugh and ponder the question, debating if you wanna answer or remove a piece of clothing. “It’s a tie but I’ll say only one. I’m thinking… Pronebone.” Once you answer Shanks whistles loudly, “Oooo nice and deep okay okay.” 

“Ugh please hush!” You groan and Benn laughs as he nudges your shoulder, “Don’t be embarrassed baby doll…” Benn smirks before he leans toward you, “Save that for later.”

Shanks grins as he takes a shot, “You can go next darling.” You don’t even hesitate to uno reverse Shanks on question and he just smirks happily, “Easy, cowgirl. I like admiring a woman taking what she wants from me. Go ahead Benn.” Benn hums as he thinks of the question, standing to put his cigarette out in the sink, washing down his mess before sitting back down to face you. “Remember you can either answer or take off that top of yours.” You nod and he continues, “Can you deep throat?” 

You felt so hot you thought you were going to burst into flames but you refused to back down and remove your clothes just yet. “Yes. Shanks your turn.” 

“Well fuck me sideways and call me a bitch cause that’s good to know. Okay… soft and slow or rough and fast?” Shanks jokes and you laugh at his crazy statement before thinking of a response. Taking a sip of the drink you made you lean in close as you answer. “Tough choices. I usually like it fast and rough but with you two I wouldn’t mind seeing how you pirates handle it slow” Another sip and you turn your attention to Benn in order to ask your next question. “Have you and your Captain ever fooled around?” Benn gives Shanks a look as he answers, “Yes but it’s not really my thing, we’re better at fucking pretty girls together instead of each other.” Your mouth literally drops when you hear his words then you look over at Shanks in shock who just grins and raises his eyebrows. “What can I say, I gotta try everything at least once.” 

“My turn.” Benn says, making you look over at him as he smiles, “Have you ever kissed a woman?” 

Giving a shrug you recycle Shanks’ words, “Well I gotta try everything at least once.” Your answer makes the red haired man laugh with excitement. “I think we’re just perfect together darling.” Throwing his arm over your shoulder you give a little head shake as he asks his next question. 

The game goes on for a while until Benn is the one who gets to ask the final question, all of you very tipsy with all your layers remaining. None of you backing down from the overly perverted questions that you all threw each other's way. “Okay baby doll final question.” His face was close to yours, the smell of alcohol heavy on his lips that you couldn’t seem to look away from. “Are you ready for a couple of pirates to fuck you nice and slow?” 

At this point your body is tingling and you can feel the wetness pooling in your panties, your heart beating a mile a minute. You can feel Shanks press closer to you, his hand going to your thigh as his lips kiss your exposed shoulder. “Promise we’ll take good care of you baby.” Benn puts his hand on your other thigh and you swallow the lump in your throat as he stares into your eyes intensely waiting on your answer. 

“Yes.” When you answer Benn doesn’t even waste a second to lean in and kiss you with a hunger that makes you melt. Your hands reach up to wrap around his shoulders tugging him closer towards you as Shanks’ hand runs up underneath your top with a groan. You moan into Benn’s mouth when you feel Shanks squeeze your breath over your lace bra, his calloused fingers digging into your flesh. “So pretty baby.” Shanks mumbles against your neck as Benn paws at your thigh, his tongue slipping into your mouth with a blazing passion. 

You feel on fire between both men as they grope and kiss you all over, “Come on sweetheart lemme take this off.” Shanks asks tugging on the hem of your shirt and even though you don’t want to break the kiss with Benn he does as his Captain suggests. “Sorry doll the Captain doesn’t ask more than once.” You’re beyond horny and don’t give even a second thought when you remove your top and toss it across the room before pulling Shanks into a kiss. Benn takes the job of Shanks and leaves kisses all over your neck as you kiss the red haired man, your fingers tangling with his hair to give a slight tug that has him moan into your mouth. 

“I wanna go to the bedroom.” You say in between the kiss and let out a surprised gasp when Benn lifts you up like you weigh nothing, Shanks following behind stripping off his top in the process. Benn throws you on the bed with a smirk, your attention drawn to the way both men strip in front of you. Even with one arm Shanks moves with such a smooth grace that has your mouth drooling, they’re both cocky and even though Benn started out so quiet he had quite the ego. When they remove their boxers your mouth literally drops as you see how large they both are in comparison to the guys you’ve fucked on your island. 

“Like what you see darling?” Shanks asks but you’re so stunned to speak as you stare at the cut beauty hard between his legs, veins pulsing with need, tip just as red as his hair with a bit of cum threatening to fall. Shanks had more length than Benn but just a little bit, but what Benn missed out in length he made up for it with his girth. Benn’s cock was thick like a damn soda can and it made you swallow the lump in your throat wondering if you’d be able to take him in either one of your holes. You had a feeling though that the dear Captain would take the front while Benn would take the back. You’re caught off guard when you feel a light smack to your thigh from Benn, their cocks so mesmerizing you forgot Shanks even asked you a question. 

“My Captain asked you a question, baby doll.” Benn tells you with a stern tone and you have to peel your eyes from their dicks in order to focus. “Um…what was the question?” Shanks tilts his head as he looks at you, his voice teasing you as he circles the bed. “Awe pretty girl, we haven’t even touched you yet and you’ve already gone dumb. Poor thing. Don’t worry that’s what a Captain is for, I’ll take care of you sweetheart.” 

Benn climbs in bed next to you on one side as Shanks takes the other side, their hands touching you anyway they can. Benn takes care of the harder things like unclipping your bra and your jeans while the redhead pulls off your bra, kissing the skin that's underneath. His lips feel like molten lava against your skin and you gasp as his lips wrap around your hardened nipple. Benn cradles your head to the side in order to suck a mark onto your neck causing you to moan, your fingers tangling once again into Shanks hair. Your other breast gets stimulation as Shanks squeezes it in his calloused hand, Benn busies himself by massaging your thighs, slowly pulling them open for his Captain to slide between. 

“You’re so beautiful.” Benn praises as his kisses reach your jaw, his large hand turning your face toward his so he can close the gap between you with a slow and deep kiss. His tongue invaded your mouth in a passionate kiss as his Captain worked his magic on your nipples, switching between both breasts causing you to whimper. Both men knew how to use their tongues which made you very curious for later. 

Shanks starts to go lower and lower his mouth leaving kisses in their wake as he descends down towards your dripping pussy. His fingers move your thong to the side making you gasp into Benn’s mouth, his tongue swirling around yours with a deep groan. Shanks looks up at you just in time for Benn to pull away allowing you to look down at his Captain. Benn’s hands spread your legs open embarrassingly wide, pressing your thighs into your chest making you whine. You felt vulnerable in this position but you guessed that was what happens when you fuck a couple of pirates. 

“Go ahead baby, keep your eyes on him. My Captain has a thing for being watched.” Benn smirks as he kisses your cheek, your eyes falling down to watch as Shanks lays on his stomach. His tongue licks between your dripping folds, before his tongue circles around your clit, a groan leaving him at the taste of your wetness. Spitting on his fingers he circled your usually neglected hole as he closed his mouth around your clit with a lewd moan. “How is she Captain?” Benn asks before kissing under your ear and licking the shell. 

Shanks eyes roll back for a second as he takes another slow lick at your entrance before staring directly at you, “So fucking good.” You watch as Shanks licks your clit again before sucking it into his mouth. “Yeah I bet she does.” Benn groans into your neck, his hands squeezing at your spread thighs making you whine at his strength. “Shanks~” A smack to your thigh makes you gasp, your head turning to look at Benn who only shakes his head. “That ain’t what you call him in her darling.” 

“Dammit sorry.” You moan out and Shanks only grins as his tongue goes lower into your neglected hole. “Oh fuck! Captain!” Your head falls back against Benn's shoulder making him chuckle at how easily you come undone on his Captain’s tongue. “Just relax darling.” Benn says kissing along your jaw, his thumb rubbing against your thigh. 

Your senses hyper focused on the way Shanks ate you out, his thumb rubbing at your clit to stimulate both areas. Shanks ate you out like a mad man, switching between your ass and your pussy, you didn’t know what to focus on with the way he was working you. “Come on Captain quit hoggin her will ya.” Benn grumbled out as kissed your jaw, your eyes rolling back as you felt Shanks suck on your clit while his fingers opened up your ass. His tongue moving down to dip into your pussy to lick at your juices that started to flow from your orgasm. 

“Fuck fuck fuck! Captain!” Your scream tore through your throat like never before and it was music to both men's ears. “That’s it darling cum all over his face.” Benn coaxed out of you as Shanks thrust his fingers into you in time with his tongue that worked your cunt. It was such  a new sensation that sent you over the pleasurable edge you never thought you’d experience with some pirates. “Cumming!” You practically screech out and Shanks only moans into your cunt, “So fucking good! That’s it baby! Give it to me!” The vibrations of his voice makes you squirm or at least try to but the hold that Benn had on you kept you in place for the overstimulation that Shanks was giving you. 

Shanks lets out a long groan as he feels your walls clamp down and pulse around his tongue, your ass twitching against his fingers as you moan loudly. Benn holds you open as you cum, his Captain just as noisy as you as you cum and he just chuckles watching the both of you. “You two are so noisy.” Benn smirks and you just turn your face toward him, your eyes barely able to focus on him but you want to kiss him so bad.

“Benn~” You moan out, “Please kiss me.” Benn gives a mocking coo as he leans down anyways to kiss you. The large man had quite the oral fixation and liked to keep himself busy either with marking up your neck or kissing you on the lips, his tongue swirling with yours. “Awe aren’t you a cutie.” Benn teases before leaning closer to kiss you on the lips, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip making you suck in a breath. 

“Help me out a bit Benn.” Shanks practically moaned out as he sucked your clit, allowing room for Benn’s large fingers to dip into your throbbing cunt. Your clit tingled as your pussy became filled with Benn’s thick fingers that entered your pussy, Shanks fingers never leaving your ass and you only moaned at the feeling of them both. Benn used his free hand to hold your jaw and pull you in for a kiss, “Better keep those legs open for us pretty girl.” You sneak your hands around to hold your legs open for the men to continue their work. Your legs started to shake as both men brought you closer and closer to coming again, their fingers moving a bit faster as they noticed your walls tightening. 

“There we go sweetheart, be good for your Captain and let go.” Shanks says between kisses to your clit making you moan out loudly. Your own fingers dug into your thighs as Benn stole your moans through deep kisses, his tongue swirling around yours before sucking on it with a groan. Pulling away he kisses your cheek, then your jaw before going to your neck to nip at your skin, your body shuddering from the affect you’re having. Your body shivers like a wave and you moan as your head falls back again onto Benn, your pussy creaming on his fingers that thrust into your cunt. “Benn! Ah- Shh-!” Trying to moan out the redhead's name gets cut off with a shout. 

The sound of your dripping hole was loud in Shanks ear, his eyes looking up to stare at your face as you came undone. Your thighs trembled and Benn used the hand that was once on your jaw to hold your leg open, “Easy baby, we gotcha.” His eyes watched Shanks and his fingers stretch you out to take both men. They wanted to keep things nice and slow how you requested but the way your body was talking to them was starting to get pretty difficult.

“You think you’re ready to take the both of us baby doll?” Benn asks and you can’t help but nod your head like a madwoman. “Yes oh fuck yes! Please!” You shriek as Shanks nips at your clit before pulling away, removing his fingers to sit up. Benn can’t help himself when he pulls his fingers out of your pussy to give it a wet slap making you yelp. “Benn!” You moan in surprise and he just kisses your cheek. “Sorry, I couldn't help it, she just looked so cute.” Benn’s teasing and vulgar words made your body flare with heat. 

“Again.” Shanks commands as he strokes his cock in front of you and you pout when you hear him, but being the second that he was did it without repeat. “But-” You try to protest but Benn hushes you, his lips against your ear. “Shh, just be a good girl darlin. It’s just one more.” Benn reassures as he smacks your pussy again, your wetness making the slap sound noisier and it only turns on Shanks more as he licks his lips. “Alright pretty let’s see how you can handle a couple of pirates.” Shanks grins as plops himself on the bed, laying on his back as Benn maneuvers you on top of him, a gasp leaving you as he just keeps carrying you like you’re nothing more than a feather. 

“Take your time baby, I’m sure I’m bigger than the silly amateurs that you fuck on this island.” Shanks says confidently and you just roll your eyes despite him being right, your action makes the man laugh as he squeezes your thigh gently. “Oh sweetheart don’t be bashful I could tell when you first saw my cock that you liked it.” 

“It is pretty nice.” You tease as you line yourself up with the tip of his cock, your fingers wrapped around his cock, your thumb stroking the longest vein that ran along the side. Shanks hissed as you squeezed the base and slowly ran your hand back up to the tip, “Dammit darlin you’re killing me.” You feel Benn kiss along your shoulders as he comes up behind you, his rough hands coming around to grope at your breast. “Think you can handle him baby doll?” Benn asked in a teasing tone and you just smirked down at Shanks as you slowly lowered down onto him. 

You honestly thought you could handle him but once his tip slowly slid into your dripping cunt you realized how wrong you were. He felt way bigger than he looked, sucking in a sharp breath as Shanks’ cock slowly pierced through your wet walls. “F~uck!” You gasp making the redhead grin but his bravado also cracks as your walls clamp down around his cock. The feeling of your warm, wet walls squeezing his cock in a tight grip makes his head spin, his cheeks flushing and eyes rolling back. “Shit Benn, you have no idea how good her pussy feels.” Shanks’ voice is a deep groan, long and drawn out as you took more of his cock in your pussy. Moans dripped out at a loud pitch that you weren’t used to, Shanks’ cock long enough to reach depths that normally didn’t get touched. Your body lit up like fireworks just burst inside of you, your thighs trembled as you sunk down all the way on his cock.

“I’ll have to try her out another time.” Benn smirked as he squeezed your breast, his fingers toying with your nipples making you shudder. “Ugh! Fuck! Shanks~ you’re so big!” You can’t help how whiny your voice comes out as you feel his cock throb inside of you. The man smirks below you, his breathing heavy as he speaks, “Thanks darlin. Now come over here so I can kiss those pretty lips of yours.” 

You bend down towards him and his hand caresses your cheek tenderly, pulling you closer till his lips push against yours. Both of your lips moving in a sensual dance that leave you breathless as he parts your lips with his sneaky experienced tongue. You gasp into his mouth as you feel Benn spit on your ass, his thumb rubbing against your tight hole in a circle to spread his saliva all over you. “Stay relaxed baby.” Benn’s voice is filled with patience as he uses his other hand to aim the tip of his dick against you. Shanks distracts you a bit with his tongue swirling into your mouth, sucking on your tongue with a groan. You whine into his mouth as you feel his hand run down your back to your ass, spreading you open for his Vice Captain. 

Benn licks his lips as he slowly sinks his tip into your puckered hole, hissing as he feels your warmth gripping his cock like a glove. “Damn.” Benn’s deep voice sends chills down your spine, the new sensation of having something enter your ass makes your brain hyperfocus. You can’t help but clench around the tip of Benn’s cock, “Easy~ baby.” Benn tells you as he massages your back to get you to settle down as he sinks his cock in deeper. Shanks grinds his hips upward to stimulate you and allow you to relax for Benn to dive in deeper, drinking in the sound of your moan as the curve of his cock aims right on the spot you need him too. Benn moves his hand around your body to rub circles on your clit causing you to gasp into Shanks mouth. 

“Almost there baby. Fuck you’re doing so good.” Benn groaned as his cock was halfway into your ass with Shanks grinding into your wet cunt, your juices dripping down with heighted lust. You had to pull away from the deep kiss that Shanks was giving you to catch your breath, your hands pressed against his muscled chest as he pulled his hand back to spank your ass. “Man ain’t you just the prettiest thing. Just a few hours ago you couldn’t stand the sight of a couple pirates, now look at you. Coming apart, taking two cocks at once.” Shanks teasing had you so embarrassed but when you wanted to complain Benn slammed his hips forward into your warm hole with a deep drawn out grumble. The sudden slam of his cock hitting deep inside of you forced a loud scream to leave your throat, eyes rolling back as his fingers circled your clit.

“Fuck! Benn! Oh fuck you’re both so deep!” You babble as Benn moves you up and down on Shanks cock. “Should we stop?” Benn questioned as he pressed on your clit more with harder pressure, a grind of his hips just as Shanks did the same made your jaw drop. 

“No! Fuck don’t you dare stop! Please keep going!” You gasp out as your fingers unconsciously dig into Shanks chest, when his hips swirl into you. “Trust me baby we’re not stopping.” Benn smirks down at Shanks who gets the silent hint to swap hand placements, the redhead going to rub your clit as Benn puts both his hands on your hips to start lifting you up and down on their cocks as they push their hips up to meet you. The position only driving their long cocks further into you with each thrust of their skilled hips. 

You never imagined there would be a day that you would think a pirate was attractive let alone two pirates yet here you were. Your body was being used perfectly as you just took what they gave you. You knew pirates took what they wanted you just never thought it would be your body and man did they take good care of it. Words of praise dripping like honey down your body, your temperature rising with every brush of their lips against your skin. Goosebumps formed as they hushed the most vulgar words you’ve ever heard into your ears. You never thought you were innocent actually you considered yourself far from it but with how they were talking to you it definitely changed your stance on the matter. 

“You have such a perfect pussy, so wet and slippery on my cock. Taking my vice captain so good in that pretty ass of yours too- fuck baby.” Shanks moaned out his eyes enraptured by how beautifully wrecked you looked. Your back was pressed against Benn’s chest, your hips now moving wildly on their own accord. Wanton moans leaving you as your head was thrown back on the shooter’s shoulder, his hand gently wrapped around your throat as he sucked mark after mark onto your neck. Benn couldn’t help his constant marking, his oral fixation in hyperdrive and needing something to do. Shanks watched you both intensely, his eyes roaming every inch of your body up and down, pausing to watch the ring of cream that was forming on the base of his cock like a masterpiece.

 Your arm without thinking went behind and around Benn’s neck to grip at his hair, not realizing how you ripped the cheap ponytail that held his hair up. Black strands cascading around his face as continued to slam his thick cock into you, taking your breath away as well as his at the feel of you. Benn felt his eyes roll back as you tugged on the raven locks, a deep growlish moan escaping as he bit into your neck before swirling his tongue against the mark. His thick fingers digging into the flesh of your hips making you whimper as he only rocked you down harder. 

You felt the boiling in your body, the tingling in the pit of your stomach as your toes curled and thighs trembled. “Fuckfuckfuck! Im gonna~!” 

“I know you are sweetheart. Just let it out baby.” Shanks breathed out with a grin. “So pretty cumming for a couple of dirty pirates. Nothing but lowlife scum but you love it huh?” 

“Yes! Fuck I love your cocks so much!” You wailed out as Shanks rubbed your clit faster. “Hell yeah you do you naughty girl. Ugh fuck- you little liar want to act all tough but look at her - uh fuck- crying over some pirates fucking her so good.” Shanks moaned out trying to keep his eyes on you even though they wanted to roll in the back of his head at the feel of your walls tightening. “Shit you’re beautiful.” 

“You like having pirates use this pretty body of yours don’t you baby doll?” Benn asked in your ear, turning your face towards his, your fingers still tangled into his tresses as you pathetically nod. “Prove it darling. Cum for us dirty pirates.” You couldn’t hold back the moan that ripped through you, your body shaking as Benn held you up both mens hips not stopping as they helped you ride your wave.  

You never really squirted in your life but with both men drilling their gorgeous cocks into you at a fast pace you guess it was time for your body to do the unexpected. A gasp left you as your body erupted with pure ecstasy and unimaginable pleasure. You always thought pirates were good for nothing but damn did they change your mind when you felt your walls tighten and vision go blinding white. It’s like your body felt every pulse of your cock, every vein, every delicious curve and thrust that they were giving to you. The perfect tip of Shanks’ cock pounding into your g-spot with every thrust like a magnet was attached and Benn hitting your walls only pushed Shanks in deeper. 

“That’s it princess there we go. Wetter pussy than the fucking ocean.” Shanks hissed as he watched the way you soaked his cut abs, his fingers rubbing your pussy causing an even bigger mess. “We picked the perfect fucking island.” Shanks grinned as he moved his hand up to lick the mess that you made all over him, eyes finally rolling back at the taste of your sticky juices. Benn groaned into your neck feeling the vice grip your ass had around his thick, veiny cock and knew he was about to cum once you tugged on his hair harder. 

“Pull my hair harder baby doll. Let me have it.” Benn groaned out before smashing his lips to yours, tongues battling but clearly he was winning as your body was still lit up with the aftershocks of your orgasm. Shanks licking up the mess you made like a starved wild animal as his eyes trained on the both of you kissing messily. Drool slipping down your chin as Benn’s hands trailed down to squeeze your tights making you whine and tug on his hair harder like he requested. His hips rocked into you harder as he felt his balls tighten and pulse, “Mmm!” His hands gripped your breasts harder as he lost his rhythm a bit before sinking further into your ass.

Hot cum flooding your ass in thick sticky ropes as a long moan was shared between the two of you in a deep kiss. Shanks licked his lips as he fucked up into you harder and faster, his hand gripped your hips to force you down to meet his thrusts. Feet planting on the bed for better leverage as his jaw tightened but he needed to see you cum again. 

“Benn hold her still.” Shanks’ voice sounded deeper and more stern and you quickly felt Benn drag his hands down to your hips to grip you tight. His lips leaving yours to talk in your ears, “Look at my Captain.” You don’t mean to pout but you do and Shanks sees it, his hips snapping up harder into yours snatching a gasp from you that makes you look at him. 

Shanks fucks you harder like he suddenly hates your pussy and you can’t figure out why until he speaks, his thumb rubbing your clit in harsh circles. “Why the fuck did you have to eat a damn fruit!” He snaps and fucks you harder, the scowl on his face a drastic difference to his earlier sweet demeanor. “Naughty fucking girl just had to eat one of those stupid fucking things.” You couldn’t figure out why he hated them so much  and honestly in that moment you could care less what his problem with devils fruits were when he was fucking you as good as he was. 

“Such a perfect fucking cunt and you just had to ruin it! Uh hah! Fuckfuckfuck! Pussy fits so well around my cock! Dammit!” His words are coming out in angry growls and Benn’s grip on you tightens his lips busying themselves again to nip at your neck and mumble out words as well. “Damn shame or we could be doing this all the time.” Benn whispers in your ear before sucking on your neck. You wanted to ask them questions on what they meant but you couldn’t not with how you felt another orgasm speeding towards you. You didn’t think you had another in you but it was fast approaching. Your fingers tugged again on Benn’s hair and the man hissed as your ass clenched around his oversensitive cock.

“Bad, bad girl. Perfect pussy though.” Shanks groaned as he rammed his cock deeper. 

“Shanks! Shanks, I think I’m gonna cum again!” You cry out and the man only smirks as he keeps fucking up into you and rubbing your clit. “Go ahead baby. You gonna let me cum in this pretty pussy of yours?” He asks you and as much as your brain is screaming no you can’t help but moan out a yes. 

“See~ what a bad girl you are. Letting some filthy pirates cum in your little holes. A yonko at that.” Shanks grins and you just stare at him with blurry eyes, your body shaking not being able to argue with anything he’s saying. His hips thrust harder as he feels you cumming around his cock again, this time his cock twitches and ropes of his seed flood your pussy. Tingles running throughout both of your bodies as his eyes roll back into his skull. “Oh sweetheart~” His moan whimpers out at the end, feeling how tight your pussy gets and he’s gasping for air chest rising and falling rapidly. 

All of you are breathing heavily as you finally snap back into reality, the situation sinking in further and you can’t believe you just had sex with two pirates, one of whom was a yonko. 

Did you fuck up? Probably… but it was too good to regret. You don’t remember how you fell asleep or even when but when you woke up all traces of Shanks and his crew vanished. You wondered if everything that happened was real or not but there was no doubting the cum that dripped from your gaping used holes. 

Remnants of a night you’ll never forget.

❥ SHANKS X FEM!READER

❥ WORD COUNT: 2.3k

❥ WARNINGS/TAGS: forced orgasms, some yandere vibes, dub-con to be safe, very inappropriate use of conqueror's haki, power dynamics (captain/crew), praise, creampie, Shanks is so mean but so good and I would die for him

→ Kinktober Masterlist ←

“You’re gonna cum for me, darlin’, even if I have to take it from you.”

The weight of his words curl around your throat like a vice, blood pumping in your ears you until can barely hear his boisterous laugh. 

The smile he gives is so cheshire, so oddly genuine, it makes a shiver of fear run down the back of your neck. Perhaps it’s actually pleasure, but the emotions are too entangled for your brain to piece apart your state of mind. 

He’s not letting you go this time, not until he gets what he wants. 

“Shanks,” you plead, nails gripping into the black fabric of his cloak, “we shouldn’t, you’re my captain, and I—”

“And your captain knows what’s best for you. Promise.”

The playful lilt in his voice is disarming. 

He always lures you in so easily, and usually you can squirm away, calm your raging heart and pretend like you’re not the object of his desires. Because you shouldn’t be, you can’t be, you’re honor bound to serve him as your captain and you refuse to let lust cloud your relationship to Shanks. He helped make you a pirate. You’re more than a mistress.

Yet he’s already stripped you bare for him tonight, easy work for one of the most powerful men on the seas.

Warm lips press into your cheek as you turn your face from him, gritting your teeth as you deny his kiss.

Shanks chuckles in the face of your defiance, squishing his fingers into your cheeks to make you look at him. 

“You know, you really are cute, thinking you can stop me. Besides, don’t you want to follow Captain’s orders, hm? That’s why I picked you—you’re so loyal, always willing to please. But you should please and be pleased.”

His eyes close with a sincere smile, the pink scars nearly shining in the firelight of his room.

Perhaps you do forget sometimes how weak you are compared to him, to the man who can cut down enemies with a single gaze. 

Trapped between his colossal body and the wall, you have nowhere to run, no way to slink off and keep only ghosts of his touches. He’s going to make you feel every moment.

“Want me to show you how good I can make you feel?” 

“Trust me, I know, I know how good you’d feel, but I can’t—”

“You have no idea.”

Somehow he feels closer, as if the sun-kissed skin of his chest from his parted shirt is already blending into yours. He is darkness clouding over you, engulfing you.

He cups your chin with his hand, big fingers spilling down onto your neck. He slants his mouth over yours before you can protest, moving plush lips until you can’t help but moan. Spiced rum, aged and smooth, greets you when his tongue slides between parted lips. He kisses like a dance, like a back and forth that he leads.

“Breathe,” he whispers, and you don’t have to ask why. You sense his conqueror’s haki in the air before you feel the power lick at your skin, dragging and pulling and hot. 

“Cum for me.”

Lightning quick, your tummy tightens, the pleasure centers of your brain on overload as he overtakes you. Desire boils down to your cunt like a poisonous liquid heat, unbearable, sinful, yet so, so blissful as your pussy flutters and you fall over the crest of orgasm. 

“Fuck! Oh, fuck you, fuck, fuck…” Your eyes squeeze closed as the ecstasy is literally ripped from your body, like he somehow sunk his hand inside your core and extracted all the delight he craves. 

“Doesn’t that feel good?”

You can’t help but nod, because yes, it does, as if pleasure is bursting like supernovas underneath your skin. Your hands are clinging to him, one around the back of his neck, the other beneath his shirt, like you can’t help but be closer to the source of your heat.

“Shanks, I…” your tongue is so thick in your mouth, searching for words you can’t think of.

“Now imagine just how fucking good you’ll feel when you do that on my cock.” 

“Please, oh, god, please.”

His famous laugh greets your ears and you’re almost knocked back to the reality of who has you in his grasp. 

“That’s my girl.” 

You’re in his bed before you know it, eyes glassy at the sight of his naked body. You knew he’d be beautiful, but the actual view of him, on his knees, pumping his cock in his hand while between your legs has you whining.

“What’s going on in your pretty little head? Tell me.” 

“I…want you, so badly, and I-I’m sorry for pushing you away. I never—”

He shushes you, takes his hand from his cock so he can brush the back of his finger across your cheek, “You were just doing what you thought was right. Didn’t wanna just be my plaything, did you? I know you wanted to be my strong little pirate, but you can be both.” 

“Promise?” 

“Swear it.” He grins like a little boy as he mockingly draws an X across his heart with his finger. 

How can someone so deadly be so adorable?

Your instincts are flaring again, telling you to run, that once he sinks his claws into you, you’ll only ever be his. Nothing more, nothing less. 

Maybe that doesn’t sound so bad, especially not with how good it feels when he buries his hand between your thighs, fingers playing in your wetness. 

Shanks is equal parts messy and methodical, swirling his fingers around in your slick folds before rubbing his thumb over your already sensitive clit. You cry out, back arching and nails digging so deeply in his pillows you swear you hear fabric rip.

“Think I made you wet enough to take my cock already, don’t you?” 

To prove his point, he slides his slick-drenched fingers between your lips, letting you taste yourself. You nod your affirmation as you suck against his skin, his eyes shining as you wrap your tongue around his fingers.

You eye his cock between his legs, preening at the thought of having him inside you. His cock is pretty, fat, already leaking and veins straining beneath silken skin. Red curls crawl up his toned stomach and you nearly drool around his fingers. 

All you ever wanted was to be a pirate, but the sight of your captain’s cock has you content to be a whore.

“Been dreamin’ about you in my sheets ever since I found you, darlin’. Knew you were the one for me, my perfect girl.”

“Oh please,” you gasp as he draws his fingers from your mouth, dragging them down to your tit so he can pinch your nipple, “you know what praise does to me, Shanks.”

“Of course I do,” he sing-songs, grasping his dick and pushing his tip between your folds. He presses in, a cant of his hips shoving his cock halfway into your dripping hole. Your head falls back at the stretch, cooing at the feel of him. 

Shanks is clearly done chasing you, mindset moved to capture, to take. He bottoms out and immediately starts moving, grinning as he watches your pussy lips drag along his length. 

He wolf-whistles at the sight, making you flush with a strange mixture of embarrassment and pride. “Look at that pretty fucking pussy. So slutty already for me.”

Strong fingers push your thigh back, spreading you wide as he starts his pace. 

“Now,” Shanks clicks his tongue against his teeth, “let’s see what it feels like when I make you cum around my cock.” 

“You don’t, ah,” you gasp as his cockhead prods against a soft spot, “h-have to make me, I’ll—” 

“Shh, I’ll take care of you, baby. Let me make you feel good, yeah?” 

There’s no time to think, not with how fast he acts, a simple look into your eyes has you shattering until you scream. The pleasure claws from your depths all over again, more intense now that your cunt has his fat cock to convulse around. You suck him in deep as you fall, bliss blooming over every nerve ending. Your toes curl, your nails cut into his shoulders, your stomach nearly hurts from the twisting of your orgasm. 

“God damn, you feel so fucking good when you do that, get so tight around me.” 

“Sh-Sha—mhm, fuck,” you try to protest, to say something, but the way his body moves into yours is like the mesmeric waves, lulling you into a headspace of drifting euphoria. 

He’s all over you—hand in your hair, tongue sliding down your neck, lips sucking at the fat of your tits, teeth scraping along your curves. He’s all encompassing, snaking his arm behind your back until you're pressed against his thick chest and rocking with every thrust.

The orgasms have made you numb, all you feel is pure carnality, like now you just exist to fuck and be fucked.

For a moment you wonder if he’s still forcing it on you, but you decide you don’t care. He’s the only one who can make you feel like this, haki or no.

Shanks brushes his nose down your cheek, lips hot and wet as he kisses your skin, “Touch me, baby, be with me.” 

Like puppetry, your hands trace his musculature, taking note of how his shoulders roll with every push and how his abdominal muscles stiffen whenever your cunt spasms from pleasure.

You kiss over the freckles on his shoulder, down to the thick bicep he no longer wraps in bandages. 

He groans as your lips get close to where his arm used to be, a purr from deep in his chest like you’re too close to something vulnerable.

“Gonna take from you again, darlin.’ Gotta feel your cunt suck me dry.” 

“N-no I can—I can do it, I can cum for you, promise.” 

“Mhm, where’s the fun in that when I can just make you?”

His hand snakes around your body, letting you sink into the bed free of his hold. He teases your clit just because he can, because he likes watching you wiggle and writhe and whine beneath him.

You suck in a sob, “Please, just a little more, more, and I—”

Shanks’ haki feels like the warm licks of familiar fire. He burns because you let him too close, stared too long at the flames. 

You’re sure he purposely brings the assault of his conqueror's power on slower, lets it bleed and blend with the ecstasy building from the sensitive pressure on your clit. 

This crest is bigger, fuller, like you’ve been thrown from the Red Force into the toiling dark ocean. Only it’s boiling, scorching and tugging the pleasure from deep within your belly. 

“Oh god,” you throw your head back and whine, “too hot.” 

Shanks groans deep from his chest, fingers pausing on your clit as he feels you cum around him. His thighs shake, cock twitching and throbbing. Mean fingers dig into the softness of your belly like he’s clinging to sanity, holding himself back just enough to be in control. 

“One more, baby.”

He starts thrusting again, a slow grind into your depths that has red curls kneading into your clit. You feel him in your guts, your heart, like the beat of blood in your veins. 

“C-can’t, god, can’t, please.” Please no. Please yes. You’re back in an entanglement of emotions where no way is up, the sun still so far from underneath the waves.

Shanks buries his face in your neck, red hair fanning like embers across overheated skin. 

He sucks at your pulse, flesh between his lips, “yes you can, my good girl. For me.” 

You’re slammed into a new atmosphere, floating for seconds before being dragged back down, down to where you feel details of your name whispered against your throat and the pulsing of a thick cock as ropes of cum spill into tight, gummy walls. 

“Fuuuucckk, oh g-god, Shanks, hurts, so good, shit—”

You babble until your mouth runs dry, anchored by your captain’s bruising grasp on your hip. He has you flush against his body, heavy breaths syncing as you both float up from hell.

It’s like waking up from a dream when he starts kissing you, all feather-light and reverent. He sits up and his lopsided smile seems so sincere. 

“So proud of you, really thought you were gonna pass out there for a second.” He laughs playfully, blowing a stray red hair from his face. 

All you do is whine and shift your sore hips, gasping at the feel of his cock still hard and deep inside you. 

You’re not sure how much time passes before he pops his dick out—your heart beats are too erratic to count as seconds. 

He sinks praises into your skin, kissing down your breasts, your belly, making you jerk when he kisses the mound of your pussy. 

His breath is hot on your clit. That feeling has your mind shattering like porcelain, a sharp smack centering you straight back into reality. You sit up and stare at the scene before you, sharp-eyed prey watching a predator in the forest. 

“Shanks, no, please, for the love of god—” 

“No no no no, it’s okay,” he coos from between your legs, eyes closing and head cocking to the side as he smiles, “I’m not gonna take this one from you. Promise. Gonna let you do it all by yourself, nice and slow.” 

It’s easy to forget that Shanks is a bad liar when he shoves his pretty face down to eat his cum from your pussy. 

─── 𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 .

# with flame emperor sabo.

sabo fell for the fiancé of a wealthy heir. luckily enough, he held no respect for the world government dogs whatsoever — and he was about to let them know that.

⎰ & KINKTOBER. smut (mdni!). public. dry!humping. finger!sucking. pyromania if you squint. afab!reader. no y/n used.

WC: 1.8k

sabo the revolutionary had quite a select number of bad qualities — and twice as many positive ones, if he said so himself — although his sadism concerning those in a position of wealth was of particular prominence. his first intention had not been to get involved in the webs of your life. it was but a simple mission; brief in essence. to infiltrate into the household of a wealthy family, aligned to the world government, to steal the specific letters of the discussed alliance — and some expensive jewelry, while he was at it, and to leave, unscathed. yet, sabo was hot-headed, and his disgust regarding the higher-ups all but served to flare that temper; to feed the beast itching for a fight. you — vexed, fretful, the engagement golden band on your finger, seeming to weigh but a thousand tons — proved to be his perfect excuse for a bit of a thrill.

seducing the sharp-witted fiancé of an arrogant heir, fucking one in the backroom of a ball, at that, was oddly satisfying. sabo presumed it’d be a singular encounter, neither predicting nor planning on repetitions. yet, he caught himself returning to your bedsheets — again and again — somewhat gaining a double-agent who offered him confidential information for the merest sake of getting into the nerves of those who had arranged that marriage. sabo risked the rage of his mentor and comrades, far too obsessed to refrain from returning to your haze of pleasure. and oh, how satisfying it was to claim you right under the royalty’s nose. to have you squirming and begging for his touch, claiming you on the same bed meant to symbolize your chastity.

yet, that had been his most ambiguous act so far. your wedding reception: a boisterous celebration, meant to leave a clear message for the entire world to see. sabo made his way through shadow and crowd, eyes tethered to the gorgeous, statue-worthy, sight of you — a monument in silk and pearls. mutual observation; your glance tethered to his figure, hidden amidst the countless, fancy chandeliers. your smile, brightest than the reflected light on your collar and earrings. it would be impossible for you to excuse yourself from the untrustworthy guests, but no limit was unattainable to him whenever you were concerned. a small, unprecedented commotion outside had the gathering on edge, parroted fools following the source of the sudden explosions — fireworks, reserved for the ceremony, a spectacle he didn’t hesitate to ruin.

a single grin sent his way had him aflame, you but a blur of white striving towards the natural maze in the garden, losing yourself amidst the bushes and thorns, presenting the challenge of being found. countless of others dared venture inside the maze, yet sabo’s senses were attuned to your spirit, the sudden outburst of flames smearing the night sky all but covered by the exploding fireworks. a pool of fire settled under the sole of his boots at his approach, grass giving in to the sudden heat as his hands claimed your hips, pressing your back flush against his chest.

“pearls,” he scoffed, voice laced with irony as his teeth bit on your earlobe. “couldn’t afford diamonds?

an amused sigh mingled with the ever-growing wild tempo of your breathing, your fingers intertwining with his own. “the treasure safe was stolen a few hours ago, such a morbid coincidence.”

“what a tragedy,” sabo mocked, lower intonation expliciting the gradual increase of his lust.

his fingers curled around your necklace, and a brute tug had the elastic snapping, a cascade of pearls meeting the grass, glinting white mirroring the moonlight. he shoved a hand inside the pocket of his trousers, fishing a stolen, diamond necklace, and clasping it around your neck. it shone — pale and ethereal — twice as much as those stupid pearls, the golden band serving as a perfect contrast to the expensive stones.

“would you look at that,” you pointed out in faux shock, and sabo grinned, tongue meeting the bare flesh of your neck.

the warmth around the pair of you increased — a consequence of the wildfire he had created. it was but a matter of time until the alarmed guests followed the trail of smoke; found your figure pressed against his own. sabo wrapped a hand around your throat, his cock hardening at the singular, delighted moan you produced. the sight of you in white; a wedding dress meant for another; had him seething. his teeth claimed your shoulder as he brushed a thumb against your lower lip, his back but a shield that kept you safe from the bruising flames.

sabo had your ass pressed against his clothed erection, a particular thrust causing him to groan, a shuddering breath following-in-suit. you whimpered at each lascivious, harsh roll of his hips, as though he aimed to have his cock inside your cunt regardless of the fabric that separated the pair of you. the commotion was but a mute, irrelevant thing, for sabo was far too dazed; lost amidst the metaphorical haze of lust and the quite literal cloud of smoke, the scent of the burnt bushes filling the air.

your own hips began to move, meeting his thrust halfway, his breath growing ragged at the pressure, his tip smearing the fabric of his underwear, girth aching within the coffins of his trousers. sabo kept a bruising grip on your waist, growing mad at the merest thought of the context of that encounter — your marriage to a scornful, disgusting heir with no respect for human life whatsoever. he snapped his hips, brute and possessive, teeth buried on your shoulders as he forced you to meet his thrusts.

his arm was the one to keep you balanced; tethering you to the earth. you had your head on his shoulder, neck craned to offer further access to the abusing bruises left on your flesh by his famished mouth. you moaned, back arching as he tried to have a brief taste of the folds of your ass, through his clothed girth.

the fire closed in, yet sabo took-in the opportunity offered by the cacophony of your whimpers to shove three of his fingers inside of your mouth, the sudden invasion provoking your gag reflex. dragon-claw technique was made for violence; battling. yet it had not been the first time he used the crafted strength of his fingers on you — oftentimes shoving them so deep into your pussy, you were left unable to feel your legs for a couple of succeeding hours. your mouth, however, was quite a new territory — and one he was eager to venture through, especially with the incoming crowd.

“suck on it,” he rasped out, and your moan sent a tide of vibrations through his skin, your tongue following-in-suit; swirling, warm and wet, having him grunt at the reminder of how it felt to have your mouth wrapped around his cock.

drool dripped past your parted lips, trailing down your chin. he did not dare shove his fingers knuckle deep, well-aware that the limitations of your mouth were far less extensive than those of your cunt, yet the strength of the thrusting into your mouth remained, filling the ambience with the sound of your struggle; your constant gagging. your cheeks were hollowed as you all but failed to match his tempo, tongue giving-in under the pressure of his digits. it was erratic, vicious and lewd, saliva coated fingers and a brutal, ever-constant thrust of his girth against your ass. yet, sabo had never been more hard; neglected cock leaking. tears rolled down your cheeks, mingled with liquid streaks of black as your fluids ruined the makeup you wore. he wondered how long those people had wasted, dolling you up, turning you into an ethereal and desirable object, coated in richness and assuming an image so far from the you he knew. sabo chuckled — darkly, malicious — for he meant to demolish the foundation of their plans, stealing their most precious jewel.

flames engulfed the surroundings, daring to lick the hem of your dress, silk crumbling from the heat. for a second, sabo allowed the wildfire to destroy it; to claim the fabric and the one who wore it. the long, chic dress shrunk, offering him a clear sight of your thigh. you gagged, whether it had been from his fingers or the smoke, he could not guess, but the sound had been engulfed by the gasps from the outsiders, and sabo, at last, laughed. he picked up the pace of his humping, dragging his tongue up your neck, teeth teasing your earlobe.

he heard flabbergasted shouting and gasping, the guests failing to approach the two of you, figures engulfed by a curtain of flames and smoke. sabo grew more excited at their reaction, grunting as he shoved his fingers, knuckle deep, a final time. you gagged, clinging to his wrist, pleading stance edging him further. he was close to cumming in his pants as though a ridiculous, untouched virgin, yet he did not care whatsoever, retreating his fingers to grip at your chin, forcing you to face the alarmed guests, observing the scene without the means to retrieve you.

the groom barked out orders, yet the fire began to spread with renewed fury, a tide of devastating heat challenging him to face it. sabo’s breath tickled the side of your cheek as he smirked, forcing your hips to remain pressed against his cock.

“you’re going to sing for them,” sabo rasped out, lips moving to bite on your earlobe. “let them know where your loyalty lies.”

he groped one of your breasts, your saliva soaking the thin silken fabric, making it easier for him to tease your hardening nipple, pinching it ever-so-slightly. sabo forced you to feel every inch of his erection, wet mouth sucking bruises on your neck as he coaxed a loud, broken moan out of you. that hardly would be enough to have either of you cumming, but he could fix that soon enough. as of then, sabo enjoyed the sight of your ruined dress; tear-stricken face; abused throat. the fact that he melted you into nothing but a reminder of the role you were forced to play earlier. he grunted, twitching your nipple with non-forethought strength, causing you to mewl, a victim of his unrelenting touch.

sirens flared; the distinctive shout for the marines. sabo clicked his tongue, wrapping an arm around your figure, ceasing to tease you. he let out an amused laugh at the sight of your displeasure, barely clinging to consciousness due to the smoke, yet willing to ignore said barrier for the sake of having his fingers shoved into your awaiting mouth. sabo used his devil-fruit to propel the pair of you up, flames engulfing the lower part of his body as he flew far from the commotion, towards the docks. moonlight reflected on the diamonds adorning your neck, and a certain hint of possession settled itself in the pit of his stomach, heat sent straight into his still leaking, neglected cock.

“where to?” you inquired, secured into his arms, comfortable despite the height.

“freedom,” he answered, not adding that freedom’s gates were but an improvised bed on a small ship, promising a proper fuck — with those diamonds resting on your breasts.

— 🐈‍⬛ : google will PAY for the stress it’s been giving me this past week i swear!! kinktober almost ending, though. ☹️

─── 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐎𝐑 .

# with trafalgar law.

your captain was nothing if not thorough — and as talented doctor, he offered quite a luscious method to help with your cramps.

⎰ & KINKTOBER. smut (mdni!). period sex. bloodplay. fingering (reader!receiving). blood!tasting (menstrual blood, yes). afab!reader. no y/n used.

WC: 2.3k.

trafalgar law was a doctor — sadistic, yes; self-taught, of course; but one regardless. his mind was attuned to his crew’s health properties, from allergies, to those who had a lower immunity system; from the divergent blood types to medical-related phobias. bepo hated oral medicine with overly sweet tastes; jean bart, although sizable, could not stand needles. and you had a set of quite awful cramps, enough to leave you bedridden until the week’s ending. it was, without an ounce of doubt, your most prominent issue — the one who bought him the greater worry. it left him wary enough then, yet said coddling had a gradual increase once he engaged in a relationship with you.

law had the interval of your period scheduled; committed to memory. pain medicines were reserved with the purpose of aiding you; thermal bags were both heated and freezed beforehand. he researched herbs with soothing properties and went as far — a proof of his love, he would add — as inquiring the straw-hats’ cook on teas that could, somehow, offer some respite. law had tried on a dozen sets of solutions, which one to no avail, for your ache lingered regardless of the chosen method. it left him with an ever-present bitter taste at the tip of his tongue, as the man was unused to said hopelessness, all but forced to sit back and witness your pain without a decent manner with which to soothe it.

you were not present for breakfast that morning, whereas bepo had a sheet with your shifts and duties, dividing them with shachi. for your pain was too sharp, you were granted a week-worth of rest, unallowed to lift a weight heavier than a plume. ikkaku had then entered the shared kitchen, holding an emptied cup — whose previous contents he presumed to be water — and discarding a plastic, pill bottle of a potent medicine he had prepared, a week prior. ikkaku informed him that you were resting — a bit nauseous, as expected, yet nothing quite worrisome — and though the woman had not read underneath the lines of what you stated, law understood it well enough. you were discarding his lingering aid, willing to withstand the cramps without him, for law grew twice as frustrated every month, and you had noted.

he left the kitchen right thereafter, his mood souring. it was ridiculous; unfathomable. law was a doctor — a surgeon — who had healed life-threatening diseases and wounds, yet failed to soothe the merest cramps; to offer comfort to the one he loved the most. he clicked his tongue, rummaging through the books in his office, convinced that he was but missing something, prideful enough to refuse the perspective of succumbing to a thing such as morphine.

nerves. brain chemicals. it should not have taken him that long to figure that out, but it did — and he was fuming. orgasms increased the blood flow; released endorphins; decreased the levels of cortisol. how could have he forgotten that? law clicked his tongue regardless, filled with clear annoyance at himself as he strived for your shared bedroom with ikkaku, delighted, at last, at the fact neither of you would be bothered, for the crew, too, was well-aware of the intensity of your pain.

he knocked — once, twice. not an answer was received, yet law entered regardless, eyes getting used to the overall darkness of the room, granting him the sight of your figure underneath the bed sheets. he approached you, placing a hand on your forehead; relieved to know you were far from feverish. your knees were pressed to your chest, and he could see slight eye-bags, pointing to a clear lack of sleep due to the pain. you were dozing off, unaware of your surroundings, set for a nap. he felt a pang of guilt as his arms removed you from your solace, holding you bridal-style, the activation of his powers leading you both to his own bedroom.

“law?” you inquired, nuzzling closer, a bit confused at the sudden shift. your voice was rough — pained —, and he caught himself filled with the urge to protect you, yet again.

“did i wake you?” he murmured, landing you on the mattress with certain tenderness.

“no,” you lied, ever more comfortable at the press of the sheets under your sore body.

law hummed, not believing a thing, yet not willing to pester you either. instead, he placed a set of pillows under your hips, caressing your cheek with calculated gentleness.

“i figured something that might help,” law whispered, allowing his hand to travel down your neck.

“i took some pills a while ago,” you meekly pointed out, sighing in relief as his fingers brushed against your collarbone. “and that infusion you made me drink tasted like shit. no offense.”

“none taken,” he reassured, licking his lips as his eyes swallowed the sight of you. “it’s a more pleasant one, if you’re willing.”

you stared at him through a half-opened eye, intrigued despite the context. you wore a thin, silken nightgown, the straps slipping past your shoulders, not much left for the imagination. it gave him a glimpse of your curves; your breasts; the underline of your underwear. law spared a mere glance at his sheets, deciding the incessant brushing of the blood stains right thereafter would be far worth it, so long as he could claim you. his hand hovered over your covered intimacy, applying a natural pressure, however neither forceful nor demanding.

“if you’re willing”, law repeated, and you licked your lips, wincing ever-so-slightly at a sudden, sharp pang. he could see the mental effort required for the production of words, soothing your unspoken worries with a caress of his thumb. law was a doctor; blood did not phase him, rather brought forward certain excitement. he all but wished for you to understand that. “i’m willing.”

“are you sure?” you croaked out, pain so sharp you could barely keep your eyes open.

“let me take care of you,” he pleaded, with half the mind to be ashamed of the desperation in his own tone.

you offered him a curt nod of agreement; limp frame conceding to his guiding touch. law raised the nightgown past your arms, throwing it somewhere in the room. with his knees sunk on the mattress, frame towering over your laid one, he began removing your underwear, shuddering with anticipation at the sight of blood staining your pad. he hummed, regretting the eagerness that led to a lack of proper preparation, for he had neither towels nor medical gloves to contain the flow of your period. yet, his mind could not help but point out a singular thought — did he care enough about the mess to be bothered, when you were in such dire need for relief? indeed, he didn’t.

with particular attention, he discarded the underwear and panties on the ground, allowing your hips to be supported by the pillows, without a single preoccupation regarding the possible blood stains. instead, lithe fingers trailed down towards your intimacy, a pair traveling through your folds; testing the waters. law leaned forward in order to have a proper glimpse of your expressions, yet failing not to have his eyes wander to your hardening nipples. he hummed, index meeting your clit as he drew circular, slow movements on it.

the texture of menstrual blood did not seem so far off that of your pre-cum. perhaps thicker, a bit warmer, with the biggest divergence being the color; nothing else. as a digit busied itself with your swollen bud, law teased your entrance with his pinky, grunting as a clot of blood brushed against the touch.

“talk to me, baby,” he rasped out, eyes tethered to your face as his thumb increased the pace of its ministrations on your clit.

you breathed out meekly, fingers gripping the sheets, nose scrunched as you grew accustomed to the stimulation. the blood made the sliding of his thumb faster; erratic. the lascivious sound of your aroused cunt filling the room. law felt his mouth grow dry at the sight, diving into one of your breasts, swirling, warm tongue on the hardened nipple being the solution he found in order not to lap at your blood instead. your back arched, a drawn-out mewl escaping past your opened lips as he ceased the teasing of your clit, wrist angled in a way that had his index and middle finger sliding inside your entrance with extreme ease.

“faster,” you pleaded, a bit of strength returning to your voice.

law thrusted his fingers, knuckle deep, attempting to reach the deepest inches of your walls. the natural shade of his skin returned mingled with red, the tattooed E and A but a mere memory of black underneath the crimson curtain. it was stickier than the river-stream texture of one’s blood, a stubborn line connecting the middle of his fingers, breaking apart only when they were shoved inside yet again, scissoring your walls with regained fervor. he spared a glance towards your growing blissful expression, grunting at the flutter of ideas that wrapped themselves around his mind, failing to ignore the possibilities as his own blood flushed to his hardening cock.

it smeared the fabric of the pillowcase and trailed down his palm, and law spared a brief ounce of attention to the other, neglected breast, using his free fingers to pinch at your nipple before his lips detached themselves from your chest with a single ‘pop’. he adored your tits — really, could not phantom a week without his mouth sucking bruises on it — but on that particular moment, law wanted to observe the in-and-out of his fingers inside your cunt, to commit the blood-coated digits to memory. the tip of his index abused your g-spot and he all but licked his lips, starved for a taste.

your moans were but an angel’s choir, and law had to fight the urge to let a pathetic whimper of his own escape past his lips, for he was, at last, helping you; being the one to demolish the source of your pain. yet, despite his own previous delay, he could not help but to be a little egotistical, lust clouding his scarce selflessness.

“is it better?” he questioned, and you nodded meekly, eyes dazed; pupils blown.

“y-yes,” you stuttered. “don’t stop, please.”

and though his legs began to ache and his cock ached amidst the coffins of his underwear and jeans, law increased the tempo of his thrusts, adding a third finger at the assurance that your walls were parted enough. you bit the back of your hand, swiftly muffling a shout. law groaned, using the thumb of his other hand to draw circles on your clit, marveling at the speed with which blood invaded the inside of his nail; smeared the poor digit.

“i’m close, baby,” you warned, without a need per say, for he noted the approach of your orgasm through the manner with which you clenched around him; impossibly tighter.

“let go for me,” he encouraged, retreating his fingers to the point of his nails before thrusting them yet again, knuckles bloodied; palm sticky.

your entire figure trembled, legs desperate; back jumping from the mattress. his glance was enraptured by the sight of your cum, white mingled with red, an ever-crescent battle whose stage was the pillow underneath, growing wet and dark at the onslaught of your essences. law removed his fingers, raising them to the light, obsessed with the strings intertwined around them; the state of his nails; the memories of parted clots staining the digits. he was but hypnotized, ignoring the confused calling of his name, the ever-so-grateful words you poured into his ears. instead, law began to drag his bloodied fingers on the flesh of your bare stomach, pupils blown with lust as the shade of you, too, grew smeared.

law wiped his fingers clean, and was swift to insert two of them inside your sensitive entrance. your body the canvas, whereas your cunt was the pallet, sheltering the red dye that would grant him the creation of a masterpiece — one he strived to ruin, for law was far from an accomplished, patient painter. he continued with the drag of his fingers on your flesh, from your ribs to your hip-bones; from your breasts to the spot under your navel. at every brief thrust of his fingers, teasing of your folds, you sucked in a harsh breath, your entire body reacting to the somewhat overstimulation.

when law could not hold himself back any longer — the famished beast gnawing underneath his ribcage — he dived in, tongue wiping the mess he had made. law left long stripes of saliva in its wake at every lick, his mouth sucking newer bruises on certain inches of flesh. the taste was not as metallic as he had expected, not as strong, either. it had a lingering bit of salt amidst the iron, for it was mingled with your cum, and both made for a thicker, stretchier combination on his tongue, an unique texture he had never tasted before. law spared particular attention to your breasts, hungrily lapping at it; collecting every last drop of lingering blood.

he distracted you from the fact that his pants and underwear had slid off from their previous position; that his leaking cock had slapped his stomach before he guided the tip to your abused entrance. when law pushed an inch inside, your eyes widened, hands wrapping around his neck out of instinct.

“can i?” he inquired, pressing his palms against the mattress, one at each side of your head.

“yes,” you breathed out. “please, baby.”

law was careful, a languid shove of his hips stretching your walls until he bottomed out, grunting with his eyes closed. he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours, breathing into your mouth as he began to move — thrusts with a wild tempo, the incessant chase for his own orgasm. a crown of blood wrapped itself around his tip, his entire girth a shade of bright red; pale pink. law hid his face in the crook of your neck, moaning as your hands slipped under this shirt, nails dragging on the bare skin of his back.

he brushed against your g-spot; thrusted himself deep enough to challenge your cervix. you moaned, pain long-forgotten as his tip all but drooled inside your walls, spreading them open without an ounce of mercy. law’s knees buckled; you began to squeeze his girth as though a ruthless, famished beast, so tight he would not be able to slide as freely, was it not for the present blood.

“cum for me again,” law encouraged, meeting your glance, his voice raw and desperate. “let me—ngh—take your pain, baby. c’mon.”

you whimpered, a broken, mute moan preceding the second tide of your orgasm after a particular harsh set of his thrusts. your expression, contorted in pleasure, had him removing his cock swiftly, pumping it twice before shooting his load on your stomach, mouth agape at the blood that surrounded his shaft; stained his palm. law struggled to collect his breath, shifting in order to sit on the mattress and offer his knees a well-deserved rest, one of his hands meeting your own as he intertwined your fingers together.

after prolonged, tired minutes spent in comfort within the walls of a bedroom that reeked of sex, sweat and blood, your voice echoed.

“i liked this method,” you whispered, and he angled his head to get a glimpse of your face.

“yeah, me too.”

— 🐈‍⬛ : damn this writer’s block got hands!!!! jokes aside, i love freaky law!!!! send more freaky law requests i’m going to get thru this writer’s block 👏 by writing more 👏.

─── 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖 .

# with akagami no shanks.

the captain was drunk — and a bit self-conscious. not to fret, for you were his favorite entertainer.

KINKTOBER, day ten. smut (mdni!). strip-tease. lap dance. masturbation (reader!receiving). thigh riding. dry humping. usage of conqueror’s haki. afab!reader. no y/n used.

WC: 1.9k.

akagami no shanks had lost his arm.

upon his return to the wild seas of the new world, those had been the most frowned upon words. the fearsome captain, the unmovable force, somehow would miss a limb forevermore. the reactions were but a divergent cacophony. fear — for what human could achieve such a feat? was it even a human? if not so, how close was the beast? if it had been enough to face him, what chance did the commoners have? anger — for mihawk no longer had a worthy rival. it would be far from honorable to face in combat a swordsman whose dominant arm was gone. and, at last, curiosity — for why was the truth hidden? one did not brag about a loss, but aside from overused jokes, shanks refused to spare a single word. who was he protecting? it was hilarious to witness the fuss as part of the select number of people aware of what had, in truth, happened.

akagami no shanks had lost his arm. and you had been the one to hear his puns ever since.

of course, he faced decent struggles. waking at night phantom pain; forced to master the art of the sword yet again with a hand he had no experience with whatsoever. yet, above the frustration soared an undeniable truth — for luffy, it had been worth it. besides, a decade past and shanks had grew accustomed to the mandatory shifts, living as though had not lost a thing.

however, as it seemed, there was yet one he would never cease to whine about.

the man was drunk — a common occurrence — and awfully clingy — another common occurrence. you had dragged him from the bar, pitying the poor beckman, for the man deserved a break from the captain’s shenanigans, and shanks had been hugging your waist ever since. he sat on the bed, drooling on your flesh, not allowing you to at least go fetch some water. his grip was a prison of itself on usual hours, but it did not help that you, too, were a bit intoxicated, swaying to the sides and failing to pull his face off your body.

“dooooooooooooll,” he drawled out, hiccuping. “i miss your ass.”

shanks gripped a considerable amount of flesh, daring to whine. “get over it, you’re a grown man.”

“how mean, i am half a grown man,” he laughed at said joke, biting the bare inch of your waist.

“half a man deserves half an ass,” you stated matter-of-factly, fighting off the urge to let out a hiccup yourself.

“but i miss groping both sides at the same time,” shanks insisted, dragging his nose on your belly, daring to grow drunker on your scent.

“you never had this complaint with my tits,” you pointed out, to which he liked his lips, seemingly aroused all of the sudden.

the hand pinching at your waist trailed itself up to rest on one of your breasts, his once slouched figure straightening up so that he could drag a sloppy stripe across your covered nipple. he had no problem with it whatsoever, for he was a man of considerable height.

“i can tease both of my girls at the same time,” he stated, wetting the fabric of your shirt, grinning at the elicit expression. “i can’t slap both your asscheeks at the same time anymore.”

your nipple hardened due to his ministrations, all but his for the taking, for you hadn’t felt the need to wear a bra that night. shanks closed his lips around the bud, humming as he sucked on it, spit soaking clothing and skin alike.

“and you like it,” the man teased, voice a bit muffled; rough.

you arched your back with a sigh, gripping locks of red hair, falling prey to his sensual tongue. yet, though your glance was tethered to his face, shanks’ own eyes seemed ever-so-lost, melancholic, even. you caught on the instance he moved his other shoulder, as though aiming to grip your hip with a nonexistent arm — a maintained instinct despite the absence of the limb. shanks laid down, retreating from your figure altogether, explicit vulnerability that would not have been shown otherwise, was he not drunk.

“see, doll? half a man,” he scoffed, to which your eyes narrowed; face scrunching in concentration as you then pondered on how to comfort him.

your fingers tugged at the waistband of his pants, whistling with faux innocence. shanks observed your approach with hooded eyes, laughing with delight once your chest was pressed against his own.

“my poor, poor husband,” you teased, pleased to witness the sudden shift in his attitude.

shanks and you hadn’t officiated the marriage; no celebration to be seen whatsoever. it had been the initial plan, two years prior. however, with newgate’s death and the aftermath of the war, waiting on a better period was the agreement. that did not mean the titles weren’t used, and shanks, in particular, never failed to be aroused whenever the word husband fell past your lips. a decade worth of lovemaking, too, made you more than attuned to what had him squirming.

“how i hate to see you so sorrowful,” you hummed, kissing the scars etched on the flesh of his eye. “i will fix that.”

“yeah, doll?” he grunted, growing excited when you dodged his advances. “how so?”

shanks sat on the edge of your shared bed, widening smirk and lustful eyes following your every move. you spun around the room, strutting your hips and nearing the corner, positioned far from his reach.

“you’re not allowed to touch,” you ordered, far more daring due to the alcohol. “just watch.”

shanks had his legs spread, a growing erection visible through the thin fabric of his pants. you opened the small, circular window, allowing the music from the outside bar to travel inside. your hips moved accordingly to the beat, an established sensual pace that had your fingers hovering over your breasts as you spun and approached him with languid steps.

you danced around the border of his reach, teasing the thin grip he had on his self-restraint. when he dared move, you dodged with a fit of giggles. “how should we start, sea emperor?”

he groaned at the title. “let me see your tits, doll.”

you hummed, rolling your hips with a languid sensualness born from the usual influence of alcohol. your fingers teased the straps of your shirt, trailing down the fabric until you reached the button of your shirts. rather than listening to his request, you sluggishly tugged down the zipper, perching your ass up as you slowly turned around, movements following the rhythm from the music outside.

the loose piece of clothing threatened to fall, yet you held the hem, controlling the pace of its trajectory, rolling your hips; lowering yourself on your knees. when it was, at last, off, you kicked it away, snapping the strap of your underwear. shanks had a brief sight of your soaked cunt before he was forced to face your front yet again. he cleared his throat, eyes trailed to the lacy, borderline transparent, fabric that left near nothing to the imagination.

“tits?” you mocked, trailing your fingers down your clothed labia.

shanks was left conflicted, his inebriated mind struggling to wrap itself around what to answer. would you concede if he reacted positively? or would you tease him yet again, offering the much desired sight of your intimacy? how could he outsmart that? shanks was far too drunk for an elaborate plan.

“thighs,” he answered smugly, a grin that indicated he felt all much too quirky.

you parted your legs open, pinching and grabbing the bare flesh, mimicking his touch. your lover was drooling, observing the outline of your intimacy; stroking his clothed member. yet again, a temptive roll of your hips deprived him of what he yearned for. shanks gripped his cock, growing out of patience as your fingers gripped the hem of your shirt, raising it ever-so-slowly, a languid set pace. you stretched the fabric, biting on it in order to keep your nipples covered, using your fingers to tease said hardened buds, muffled moans and dancing matching the melody of the song.

when the saliva started dripping down your chin; staining your shirt; you removed it, spinning it on your finger until it fell at his feet.

“doll,” he warned, sweat surging on his temples, ceasing the ministrations of his hand on the hardened member. “c’mere.”

“nuh uh,” you sang, turning around on purpose. shanks had the entire sight of your cunt when you lowered down to remove your panties, dancing with it stuck between your teeth, growing hot at the explicit lust on his eyes.

“come to me,” he demanded, the applied pressure stealing your free-will.

your dance ceased altogether, for shanks had dared use his conqueror’s haki to guarantee compliance. your figure stumbled towards the awaiting man, his index beckoning you in a mocking manner.

“sit on my lap,” you conceded, no questions asked. shanks gripped your chin, a lonesome finger tugging at the lacy underwear dangling from your lips. “i want that.”

he opened his mouth, forcing yours to mimic the movement. your panties fell on his tongue, and he moaned at the taste of your essence, the loud slurping causing your walls to clench around air. you whimpered, neglected and unable to move, and shanks all but spat out the piece of clothing, rutting his hips as though a hound in heat.

“turn around,” he instructed, groaning when you brushed against him. your ass rested on his clothed cock, legs spread and back arched, prepared for whatever he had in store. “dance for me, doll.”

the music fell on deaf ears, overthrown by the choir of your moans once you started to move, the roll of your hips teasing your clit, growing swollen due to the texture of his pants. shanks panted, leaning forward. he sucked on your earlobe, twisting one of your nipples as he teased the clothed erection under your bare entrance. the dancing grew sloppy, for he had your back pressed against his chest; his lips latched to your neck. shanks made out with the flesh, spit trailing down your breast, the wetness used to tease your abused nipple.

shanks’ feet sunk down on the ground for further support, and he interrupted the languid roll of your figure on his lap by rutting his hips, forcing his clothed cock to rub itself on your folds. he licked a trail up your chin, biting on the bone, tilting your head with his nose. expert fingers left your breast to dance down your stomach, finding themselves a home amidst your folds. he drew fast-paced circles on your clit, and you closed your eyes, moaning at the sensation. your legs trembled, thighs burning, yet the pressure of his command lingered. you were but a puppet whose strings he pulled, dancing despite your own tiredness.

the growing knot at the pit of your stomach snapped, your orgasm arriving with treacherous swiftness, for the alcohol had done its part when enhancing your pleasure. shanks laughed, shoving his fingers past your parted lips without warning, forcing you to taste yourself; to lick him clean.

he wrapped his arm around your figure to throw you against the mattress. you had but a brief sight of him — removing his clothes, standing in naked glory — before he hovered above you, teasing your slick, sensitive entrance with his leaking tip.

“you were kind enough to dance,” shanks mocked, his lips mere inches away from your own; hot breath fanning over your face. “but the spectacle won’t be complete until i have you singing.”

— 🐈‍⬛ : i’m running out of things to write here omg, happy kinktober? 😭

─── 𝐃𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒

# with trafalgar water d. law.

it was said that those trapped inside his sphere were then nothing but a helpless patient on his operating table. law made sure you, too, would experience it.

⎰ & KINKTOBER, day three. medical play. glove kink. smut (mdni)! fingering (reader!receiving). freaky law. use of devil-fruit. double penetration. afab!reader.

WC: 2.5k

it was an agreement that the captain of a crew was the most valuable asset. law had matured into such a position with natural ease — powerful and intelligent; responsible and menacing — yet, his most arduous and important role relied neither on his battle skills nor on his plans. law was crucial to the lives of crew due to his extensive anatomical knowledge and the devil-fruit whose power could heal whatever ill. he was reliable, organized, logical. shame had no place within the walls of the infirmary, for law cared not for the cause of the disease or the placement of a pimple — instead, he all but strived to get rid of it.

the gratefulness and cheerful compliments thereafter were fuel to his ego, the confirmation that he had fulfilled his duties as a captain. law drew pleasure from the fact that he was one to execute a role unique amidst his crew. he had taught them concepts of medicine and surgery — to have a set of aiding hands, at least — but none of those with whom he shared the submarine were fit to nurse themselves to health. that diligent performance, more often than not, brought him a greater sense of power than the one granted by victorious battles.

it was an achievement; a task; his father’s legacy. law treated his patients with utmost professionalism, the character of their shared dynamic long forgotten if one had to be examined. it was a neutral space; undiscriminating. his ethics were thorough, his examination was immaculate. the mere thought of law losing focus during such instances was inconceivable. that was, of course, until you were the subject whose back pressed against the examination table.

the prelude itself had been virtuous. your limbs were sore during the aftermath of an arduous battle, minuscules cuts adorning your skin due to the offensive character of your opponent. law had insisted on treating you, regardless of how minor were the gashes. the memories were a vivid talon that had claimed his mind: your knee pressed against your chest as he stretched your muscles; the perspective from being atop your figure; your mellow breaths of relief whenever his fingers succeeded in undoing a tense knot. law had grown hot, then, forced to hasteness for the sudden tightness of his pants would be sure to denounce the perverted thoughts.

the second time was one of prolonged misery. a mosquito bite from a foreign island had left you bedridden; feverish. a frailer state of mind and manners, hazed by the consequences of a higher temperature. from soothing massages to the press of ice-cold thermal bags — your comfort became his most favored goal. the pain, however, proved to be overbearing, and the product of such given relieves came in the form of multiple moans. a press of his hand had you sighing; the cool, metal touch of his stethoscope against your burning skin made you beg for longer contact. whenever law dared to place a damp towel above your forehead, you’d lean into his touch and plead for him to stay.

yet, the occurrence that snapped the strained thread of his mind had been during a routine checkup. your mouth was open wide; law had a thin, small, wooden-stick on your tongue, striving to check on the health of your throat. he teased your gag-reflex, a gloved thumb pressed against your lower lip. law had lost his senses at the sight of your tears, the wild rise-and-fall of your chest, a context much too similar to that of a blowjob. the examination was cut short, and law had spent an entire hour in the shower right thereafter, fisting his cock; chasing a fleeting orgasm that had refused him, for your touch was its demand.

the infirmary shifted into a somewhat sinful ambience. the metal table was but a surface on which you could be ravaged. the stethoscope an instrument he could use to listen to the pace of your heartbeat, its increase gradual to his thrusts on your pussy. and the gloves. rubber moistened with your cum and spit; the act of stretching it near you, for it would then strike at the growing-sensible flesh. law wanted to witness the middle in which pain and pleasure converged — and you had been the chosen subject.

fleeting touches; warm breath hovering above your earlobe; the caress of your leg, under the table, with the point of his shoe. the guaranteeing of your restlessness coated in faux aloofness. when the teasing, at last, conquered its desired effect, law had the infirmary far more than prepared to receive your storm. his nape had burned under your gaze throughout the later hours of the afternoon, and when law stepped inside the maddening room, he was well-aware that you would be soon to follow.

he hid amidst the shadows, reveling in your confused-etched expression as you walked through the infirmary’s door. when you reached the center, law locked it, the force of its shutting enough to produce a loud, startling noise; echoing through the metal hallways of the submarine. you jumped, glancing at his frame placed by the door. law’s eyes drowned in the sight of you, thoughts swirling to the fantasies whose realization was of absurd importance.

“is something wrong, captain?” you inquired, arms crossed.

law’s steps were slow; calculated. he approached you as though a leopard surrounding its prey. you grew wary, retreating without forethought until your hip-bone collided with the examination table.

“how are you feeling tonight?” law grinned at the sight of your confusion, the increasing nervousness all but exciting him further.

the sound of his palms slamming on metal had you shrieking, yet law did not seem apologetic. he all but devoured your trapped figure, cursing the chaste knitting of the jumpsuit — though the sight of his crew’s symbol above your chest sent him a jolt of uncontrollable possessiveness.

“i’m fine,” you stuttered, clearing your throat and clinging to the fabric of your garment. “better than ever.”

“is that so?” law mused, pressing the back of his hand against your forehead. his fingers were but a hook on your chin; curled and unyielding. “you’re a bit pale, wouldn’t you agree?”

“captain, i don’t—”

“doctor,” he corrected through rough intonation, forcing the angle of your face to match his own.

“doctor,” you echoed. while the grunt of lust at the sound had been contained, the same could not be said about his member — a gradual erection, borderline painful.

he sighed in faux disappointment, allowing his hand to wander; to hover above your chest. “you leave me no choice but to examine you.”

you were left out of words, mouth agape as your mind struggled to wrap itself around that turn of events.

“sit. you know the drill,” he commanded, and once you had done as such, law turned on his back, striding towards the locked drawer whose contents were the ones adjusted to fulfill the standards of what he meant on doing. his movements were languid, patient. at the absence of sound on your part, law tsked, angling his head so as to glare at you. “strip.”

your spontaneous gasp of bewilderment had a smirk etching on his face. “captain, i— what?”

“doctor. and i don’t plan on repeating myself,” he scolded, fishing the stethoscope from its previous spot. “i taught you the proper way to listen to one’s heartbeat. forgot it already?”

“oh,” you breathed out sheepishly, tugging down the zipper of your jumpsuit. law at last understood the root of your hesitation, for you wore nothing but a bra underneath. his mouth dried up, and he dared not readjust his gaze. “i thought, well, nothing. it was silly.”

“no, please, enlighten me,” he requested, positioning the stethoscope around his neck.

the growth of tension escaped past your pores as though a leaking faucet. “just, with the touches and the glances, i figured you were in search of another thing entirely.”

“and what would that be?”

your movements ceased midway, the upper half of the jumpsuit a dangling fabric at your sides. you hid your face from his glance, though his focus remained on the inviting sight of your cleavage.

“you know—”

“i do not,” law detached his figure from its previous support spot on the table’s edge, languid steps guiding him to you. “and a decent patient does not keep secrets from their doctor.”

you were caged, forced to lean back as law angled himself forward. the sudden exchange of energy, due to the temperature divergence between your spine and the metal, made you hiss. your back arched out of instinct; your chest pressed against his own as a consequence. mere inches separated his face from yours, his breath fluttering your eyelashes. your pupils dilated when law tossed his blue coat aside, the half-unbuttoned shirt he wore doing nothing to shelter his bare abdomen and chest from your lustful eyes.

you gulped; wild rise-and-fall of chest. “sex.”

he hummed, putting on the stethoscope’s ear pieces. its chest piece teased the warmth of your skin, movements too erratic to catch the proper pace of your heartbeat. “i can’t hear you, say it louder.”

you were aghast, stuttering as he smirked with malice. sentences sounded muffled; chaotic breathing hindering the performance of the tool. law placed the stethoscope aside, feigning dissatisfaction.

“it seems i’ll have to scan it closer on,” he stated, a twist of his wrist enough to teleport your heart to the palm of his hand.

it was a beating wonder; a rampant pace. the source of your life secured in between his teasing fingers. clutching it would have you howling in pain, stabbing it would reap your soul; an unfathomable, despising, thought. when it came to the negative consequences to a severe act of violence committed to one’s heart, law was well-versed. the soothing touches, however, were unprecedented territory — for now.

law drew your heart closer to his mouth, ever-so-tender. he blew a careful gust of air over the delicate flesh, and the kiss thereafter tore a devastating moan from your lips. droplets of sweat bubbled from your pores; your pupils buried the tone of your irises; your limbs all but trembled. law failed to contain a groan, losing balance at the blood flowing through his aching cock. he was desperate to witness that reaction yet again.

“take it all off,” he instructed, voice coming out strained due to the effort to keep himself from crumbling.

he laid your entire body on the examination table, struggling to ignore your whimpers as the fabric slid down your legs. law sliced the rubber gloves, discarding the pieces meant for the palms.

“room,” law detached his fingers, guiding them to the glove holes; covering them in rubber. he returned to you, breath catching at the sight of your body, bare and trembling, a marvel bestowed upon him. “the doctor will see you now.”

“please, doctor,” you mewled. “heal me.”

without further ado, granted the privilege of his devil-fruit, law guided his floating fingers to your cunt. a gloved thumb teased your clit through circular movements, two fingers parting your folds. he was aghast at the amount of lubrification caused by the mere press of his lips on your heart. law shoved his middle-finger into your cunt, coating the rubber with your essence. a loud whimper had his cock aching, and law grew worried, much too selfish to share your sounds with the external environment.

“silent,” he rasped, latching his lips to your heart, leaving a trail of kisses on the flesh. your back arched, a muted moan tearing through your throat.

he witnessed the squirming of your body; the violent trembling of your legs. his ring finger accompanied his middle one, scissoring your cunt as his thumb maintained a stable eight-pattern on your clit. law’s warm tongue teased your heart, and the shout of pleasure whose sound the barrier had silenced was his latest straw. law undid it, shoving his index and minor finger into your mouth.

“suck it,” law commanded, having your spit coat the rubber. his mouth dried, a wet patch visible on the fabric of his pants.

the swirling of your tongue around his fingers had his cock twitching, yet law had no hands available to unbutton the belt. he clicked his tongue, and the fingers inside your holes had switched, activating his devil-fruit regardless of the detachment.

“shambles,” his pants and underwear teleported to a meaningless spot.

law detached his cock and removed the pair of fingers from your cunt, for the particular warmth and wetness were meant to be claimed by his cum.

“doctor,” you babbled, voice muffled by his fingers, tears rolling down your cheeks as he applied pressure to the entrance of your ass. “it’s too—ngh much.”

“you’re still sick,” he cooed, teasing your folds with the tip of his member. “and i must treat it. can we proceed with it?”

you nodded, gagging when he shoved his fingers deeper — unrestrained by the confines of his tendons.

“speak,” he insisted, neglecting your inability to produce proper words.

“yes,” you cried out, sending vibrations through his fingers.

“yes what?” law snapped, teasing your entrance with the tip of his middle-finger.

“yes, doctor,” you coaxed in sheer desperation, trembling with need.

law hummed with satisfaction, careful during the insertion on your butthole. the rubber had enough of your essence to serve as a form of lubricant, yet he wished not for you to feel pain. his tongue licked strips on your heart, and your throat produced but an orchestra of boisterous moans, half its sound muffled. a never-ending pace of kisses to your wildly beating heart served as decent distraction, and when law slid his middle and ring fingers into your ass, you barely ever felt it.

your high was a powerful force, drowning his floating cock in your cum. law trembled, rutting his hips out of instinct, the movement itself useless as his member was no longer attached to his body. law marveled at the sight of you, covered in sweat and spit; squirting all over the examination table. he was drawn closer as though a senseless sailor to a siren’s aria, lost in your contorting features, the pleasure written all over.

your eyes met his, wet with past tears. “can i treat you, still?”

law feared that he had crossed a line, far gone in his bliss to remind himself that, although there were no limits to what he was willing to give you, the same could not be said about how much you were capable of receiving.

yet, after a minute, your breathing stabilized and your cheeks briefly hollowed, tongue swirling around his fingers. he removed them, if only to facilitate your speaking.

your voice was meek; hoarse. “treat me ‘til the end, doctor.”

he groaned when your lips parted, head weakly moving to accommodate his fingers. law’s member started to stretch you out, making itself at home within the walls of your cunt. you trembled, sensitive, and law moaned as his cock was coated with the essence from the previous squirting. he paid attention to your expression, fingers scissoring inside your butthole as he matched the pace with that established by his cock.

law caressed your heart, busying his mouth with the press of soothing kisses on your face. he shoved his cock past what was humanly possible, brushing the tip on your cervix; returning it to your entrance and ramming it inside yet again. your moans were the most entrancing melody he had heard, and law caught himself comfortable enough to produce similar sounds.

you tightened around both his fingers and cock; cunt and ass giving in to the overbearing tides of pleasure. your voice failed you, and law had his fingers removed from your mouth in order to listen to the sound of your bliss without restraints. the veins of his members twitched; he felt the knot close to its undoing. yet, it was the bulge of his tip visible through your stomach that had his vision covered in dark spots.

his grip left your heart — out of safety — as his orgasm washed over him, converging with your cum. he rode his high, careful as to observe your face and retrieve once the stimulation became too much. you were left limp on the table, a brief vocal command of his devil-fruit returning the detached limbs to his body. he threw the damp gloves on the trash can, and helped you sit, holding your heart in order to return it to your chest.

when you kissed it — shuddering at your own touch — and observed him through your eyelashes, law, however, became more than willing to ruin the infirmary further.

— 🐈‍⬛ : dear lord this was nasty. i love kinktober.

─── 𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐅𝐅 .

# with portgas d. ace.

the mera mera no mi had a dozen benefits — setting your walls alight was but one of them.

⎰ & KINKTOBER, (late) day five. smut (mdni!). temperature play. devil-fruit usage. oral (reader!receiving). fingering. afab!reader. no y/n used.

WC: 2.4k.

portgas d. ace had fed himself with a fruit that granted him particularities similar to those of a furnace. fire coursed through his veins — oftentimes he mused the thought that it had burned whichever cells connected him to his father still. heat gave him a reputation; an untouchable anatomical state. fire fist ace, the fearsome second-in-command. flames and warmth were but a weapon and he never thought of it beyond that. until he found that the feelings labored for you burned brighter than whatever spark his fingers conjured.

lust first settled during the search for akagami no shanks — the man who had saved his younger brother’s life. amidst ice and torrid snow, you stood: a single thread of life with a clear distaste for the cold. hunched, trembling figure whose knees were pressed to one’s chest, cursing through parted lips, at the corner in an attempt to disappear from sight. when ace sat by your side, heat emanating from his flesh, you immediately pressed yourself against him, hiding your face as you clung to his arm. he had laughed then, hugging you until the trembling ceased, growing hotter at the sound of your relieved sigh.

the second time had been during a sudden — yet common — change in the weather at the approach of a winter island. ace had no intentions of lingering there whatsoever, and briefly instructed his crew to be swift in their business. you opted to remain on the ship, covered in tides of blankets with a lukewarm cup of untouched coffee in hand. ace wordlessly set a place behind you, nervous, yet smooth, as he pressed his palms over your shoulders and began an amateurish massage. he feared the prospect of his physical strength causing you pain, yet you merely leaned into his touch, moaning with your eyes closed as the shared warmth coursed through your body. ace thought himself vicious; disgusting; for he had felt a sudden twitch in his cock at the sounds.

at last, the snap came once he mingled with the whitebeard pirates, his past crewmates choosing to linger; accepting the shift in captains. you were bedridden, and marco had commented that heat could increase the comfort during menstrual cramps. ace caught on the words left unsaid, and offered, once again, to be your soothing warmth; your healing flame. you sounded grateful altogether, and had no problems falling asleep in his arms whatsoever, allowing his hands to be placed on the external root of your pain. sharing the bed had been enough for you to claim one another; to officiate the clear-as-day relationship born from reciprocal love.

although things had changed ever-since — from endless travels to foreign lands, to the survival of a terrible war —, ace’s hidden desire regarding his devil-fruit persevered. it was shown regardless of the weather, twitching erection even in alabasta, when sweat pooled on your cleavage; when he’d see you swimming, sea-salt clinging to your flesh; or the particular instances of quietness, when his fingers would travel through your body until they found your clit. oftentimes, when his cock was lost amidst your warm walls, perhaps out of sheer instinct, he’d find himself increasing the temperature of it, if only to access your reaction. a complicated gamble; the fear of maiming, alight fire born from his excitement. yet, you remained restless, as though understanding that he had a fair share of thoughts unshared. ace feared the moment in which you’d corner him, for he’d cave to your every desire.

he sighed, clicking his tongue in deep thought. the second thereafter, ace all but choked on his food, punching his chest with certain strength. he half-noted the glass of water placed on the table, and spat a final chunk of meat at a particularly harsh slap on his back. ace’s hand gripped the cup and he chugged the liquid, tear-filled eyes observing your figure — sitting on the other side of the small table, an interested expression on your face.

“careful now, hotstuff,” you scolded, and he flushed at the name. “where have you gone this time?”

the question had increased in frequency since the death of whitebeard — his chosen father. ace was unused to the idea of sharing his pain, rather preferring to bottle it up. you respected said decision, yet, more often than not, his prolonged quietness proved itself to be obnoxious. you stated that his thoughts traveled to a place you could not reach, and in said instants, you were forced to scratch the surface of his mind and tether it to the present at hand.

“nowhere important,” ace answered, clearing his throat. you merely raised an eyebrow, well aware of the poor-crafted lie. he gave in, unable to withstand the expectating — borderline disappointed — look on your face. “promise not to be creeped out?”

“by you?” the question posed itself as though a joke; incredulous. “ace—”

“i know,” he interrupted through a sigh. “still, i would hate to leave you uncomfortable.”

“try me,” you encouraged, nothing but love explicit through your features.

ace stretched his hand, palm facing you. he coaxed your approach with a movement of his index, tensing once your wrist was pressed against his skin. he was hesitant — fearful, even — when he activated his devil-fruit, a tempting and gradual increase in his temperature. you hummed, circling your wrist on his palm, testing the waters.

“warm,” you stated matter-of-factly, tapping your fingers on his arm. ace repeated the previous action, multiplying the valor of warmth; recoiling the flames that threatened to lick your flesh. “warmer.”

ace closed his fingers around your wrist, caressing the tender inches of skin. “is it distressing? painful?”

you chuckled, moving your head in denial. “it’s soothing, ace. it’s you.”

he smiled softly, breathing in order to gather further courage. “would you mind if i tried it elsewhere?”

you blinked, growing quiet for the briefest instance, although that had been enough to bloom certain insecurities within him. ace’s lips parted, tongue prepared to spill a dozen apologies — until your hand pushed the plates and cups aside and you sat on the table, sliding towards him. ace was aghast at your willingness; your excitement.

“now?” you inquired softly, gripping the hem of your dress, legs already crossed.

“you want it now?” a stupid question, truly, when one considered the blown state of your pupils.

“please,” you pleaded, already tugging at the edges of your clothing, raising it over your head.

ace’s hands groped your breasts, cock twitching at the sight and perspective of what could be done with them. his tongue lurked out, swiping a streak of saliva up your chest. you shuddered, to which ace smirked, twitching one of your hardening nipples. his digits grew brighter as a consequence of the shift in his temperature, offering a direct source of warmth to your flesh. he tested the length of his devil-fruit, internal fire reaching the tip of his tongue. ace latched his mouth around the bud, a pathetic rut of his hips following-in-suit as a consequence of your moaning.

he grew hotter, the gradual warmthness of your own skin teasing his nose. when your fingers tugged at his hair, ace’s tongue flicked; mouth applying pressure as he sucked on the flesh of your breast, well-aware of the consecutive loss of control on his powers. it felt as though entering a forest-fire to meet its god in the center, an ever-growing heat embracing your every nerve.

your nipple grew swollen at the attention — heated and pained —, whereas his saliva was a river of liquid flames, setting you alight. his unused hand traveled down your stomach, emerging goosebumps at its temperature. he pushed your back against the table, adoration poured into each featherlight touch. you heard the sound of his knees meeting the ground; felt his palm settling on your hip-bone. a pair of heated fingers traveled through your folds, spreading your essence through the extension of it. you whimpered, for your own pre-cum had its temperature shifted; fire reaching your very core.

ace sucked on your thigh, experienced thumb drawing fast-paced circles on your once neglected clit; bright digit behaving as though the teasing of a lighter. you squirmed, and he needed but a single hand to cage your figure. his lips left a trail of sensitive bruises, before they replaced his thumb, wrapping them around the swollen bud. the tip of his burning index teased your entrance, before he shoved three fingers inside — knuckle-deep — invading your walls with unthought suddenness. you mewled, unused — however excited — with the heat; dripping cunt close to boiling.

he moaned, sending vibrations through your body. his fingers curled inside you, teasing the gummy walls; igniting your g-spot. ace rutted against the air, erection caged in between the fabric of his clothes. regardless, he neglected his own needs for the sake of your own, observing, through his eyelashes, your face contorting in pleasure. ace gripped a fistful of your thighs, the warmth of it enough to burn lonesome inches of hair. when he made a sudden worried move, intending to retreat altogether, you gripped his hair yet again, shoving his face deeper into your cunt.

“d-don’t stop,” you pleaded, trembling legs threatening to close themselves around his head.

he moaned, setting a vigorous pace. his tongue ventured through your folds, nose buried deep; teasing your clit. ace moved his head to the sides, dragging your warm essence through his chin and mouth. his tongue drew a luscious, famished stripe before he sucked on the swollen, burning clit, nearly tearing up at the saltiness coating his palate.

“fuck, babe, you taste so good,” he groaned, voice coming out muffled, for the ministrations of his mouth remained. you moaned at the compliment, arching your back at the retreat of his fingers — nails at your entrance — before he shoved them inside yet again, a relentless pace that had your cunt squeezing the digits, dripping down his palm.

your entire figure trembled, thighs caging him, feet sliding down his muscular back. ace’s tongue was molten-fire against your clit, zigzagging around it, his face covered in specks of burning pre-cum — growing reddish at the prolonged contact. curling toes; ruthless tug at his hair. he drowned on your cunt, mouth claiming every drop of your essence while his fingers abused your g-spot.

your voice was a broken choir whose words were all but variations of his name. it flared up his ego, had him switching to shove a burning tongue inside your clenching cunt; fingers parting your folds open as a set of two circled around your clit. he all but slurped; humped the air. a wet patch stained his pants, and one could smell the stench of burning fabric as he pre-cum escaped past his tip, a tide of wild flames.

“ace, ‘m close,” you mewled, breathing out heavily, eyes tethered to the sight of his soaked face.

he retreated his lips for the briefest second to press a searing, burning kiss on your entrance, smirking at your drawn-out moan. the pace of his fingers on your clit increased, and ace bit on your outer labia, his other hand pinching on your trembling thigh.

“cum for me, love,” he encouraged, yet again shoving a warm tongue inside, his chin and nose buried in your cunt.

the knot unraveled itself, and your orgasm tore you from inside-out, drowning his face. ace chased it, famished mouth claiming every droplet of cum that fell on his awaiting tongue, his fingers working still as he stimulated the tides of your high. with a final stripe of the warm muscle, ace leaned his face backwards, licking his lips and tracing the cum that lingered on his chin. he shoved a thumb inside his mouth, sucking the rest of it; removing the finger with a pop. his flesh had a shade pale pink where your essence had touched.

ace spread your legs and got on his feet, eyes tethered to the sight of your bare body on the table, sweat-etched skin glistening under the natural light. “it was a delicious appetizer.”

you laughed then, opening your arms — a solace, whose walls he could rest within. ace’s glance softened ever-so-slightly at the sound, and his chest leaned forward, drawn by your sentence. “come and get the main course, hotstuff.”

his fingers fidgeted with buttons, zippers and straps, a loud groan following-in-suit when his erection slapped against his stomach. swollen, leaking tip sensitive enough to make him hiss due to the merest brush of the wind. ace buried his face on your neck, licking the sweat off your flesh as his hand blindly aligned his shaft with your entrance. the girth slid in with fair easiness, the reminiscing drops of your previous orgasm mingling; enveloping the neglected head.

when ace bottomed out, the pair of you moaned in unison. your nails dug on his back as his hips set a languid pace, flushed tip reaching deep into your g-spot. his cock was a conflagration, forcing your walls to match the absurd temperature, shared heat enhancing both of your senses; increasing the sensitivity. the legs of the table complained at every harsh, wild thrust, balls slapping your ass as he hammered himself inside — sudden retreat of the tip; aggressive shove of the base until he had you filled with his girth. you babbled a sequence of compliments that had him twitching; drooling inside.

your legs wrapped around his waist, and both his hands settled themselves on the back of your thighs. his mouth sang luscious moans as his tongue and teeth bruised the skin of your neck — visible marks; explicit claim of what was his. ace’s pace grew erratic at the approach of his orgasm, the warmth leaving him sensitive to the point of embarrassment. your walls sucked him in, a famished, selfish lover that wished for nothing but to milk him dry.

when he pressed his forehead against yours, the act itself held an intimacy he once could ever dream of having with another, and the act itself soothed the once miserable soul of a child unwanted. ace breathed out into your mouth, words failing him as you nodded, increasing the strength of your legs around him.

“cum inside,” you cried out, raking your nails down his tattooed back. “want it—want you, all of you.”

ace struggled to keep his eyes open as he shot his load into you. it was of an alarming heat, leaving a lingering burning sensation on his tip. you mewled, sobbing as fire incarnated smeared your sensitive walls, leaving but a trail of metaphorical ashes in its wake. ace pressed butterfly-kisses on your face, lips claiming dried tears and accumulated sweat. his thrusts assumed a slower pace, a final chase of his high until the both of you were left a frail, exhausted mingle of bodies. his hands left your thighs; your legs fell, limp, dangling from the table.

the merest glance at your lover’s face had your eyes widening, hands pushing his chest. “don’t you dare, ace! the table will break—”

he collapsed into you, shifting your bodies at the last second. wood gave in to his weight, and his back all but met the ground, arms encircling your figure as your side was pressed to his chest. ace caressed your ass, mumbling about how he needed to clean you properly — and snoring thereafter.

you snorted, caressing his cheek. “sleep well, hotstuff.”

— 🐈‍⬛ : happy late kinktober, time is a concept!

Au fucking revoir Mister Prince

Ok, so the kids at my school keep changing the backgrounds in the computer lab:

So I put this as one of the backgrounds

Yesterday, I found that someone changed my background to something soccer related, so just to mess around with them, I put this

Today, I looked at all the computers around me, plus my computer and

You children…………..

You are playing a dangerous game.

me: if I become the evil overlord I will never harm my minions

[5 years later]

highly throwable imp: hoohoohee

me: hmm

got told at lunch "you feel like Tumblr Incarnate" and i had to tell them i've been here for 13 years and counting. i was here three years before dashcon happened. i saw the mishapocalypse. i survived the gigapause. i've been here longer than the shoelaces post. i've been here since it was hipsters versus fandom and i played both sides extensively by overdoing the sepia filters on everything and making my own flashing galaxy gif edits for my fandom posts. i'm every tumblr. it's all in me

one thing about satoru gojo is that he's a freak.

he'll try anything once, and then three more times for good measure. anything! as long as it ends with him emptying his balls, prefer on or inside of you, he's a very happy man to entertain your weird requests.

this, though, is too weird!

"you want to have vanilla sex?" he gawks at you.

you're laying back on his bed, bare and smiling up at him as he climbs over you. he's hard, sure, but he's not flooded with the excitement of your usual ideas.

"why don't i put the collar back on?" he suggests tapping the tip of your nose. "oh! or we could play with those candles again... or you could make me squirt... no? roleplay? anal? some music, at least?"

you shake your head, and if you weren't so damn cute satoru might be more upset than he is. "you know," you start, "plenty of couples have plain sex regularly. i just want to feel you."

"we aren't like most couples," he grimaces. "im the strongest. and you're the sexiest. i don't think she's physically capable of having boring sex with you, baby."

"stop calling your dick a she," you stare up at him. "please? you said you'd try anything."

satoru kisses your lips gently, as boringly as he can do without getting too worked up. you are naked underneath him, after all. "i said that hoping you'd propose pegging me. or letting me put that dildo of yours down your throat while i—"

"just fuck me," you whisper.

and because satoru is secret a lover before he is a freak, he complies. with a gentle nod and a few seconds to line himself up with you, he pushes inside and lets you lock your legs around his waist before he starts a gentle pace with you.

it feels good, of course, it's you. but there's something sweet to the way he fucks you— no, makes love to you, that isn't there when gags and blindfolds and candle wax are in the way. it's just you and him, eyes locked as he becomes whole with you in the most intimate way possible.

he realises, when your eyes flutter shut and you pull him impossibly closer to whisper sweet nothings in his ear, that he might just like boring sex.

"i love you so much," he coos. "like having you like this. just us. god i love you, baby. i think i needed this."

the two of you cum in sync with eachother. you shake and tighten around his cock and he spills into you with sweet moans that sound a little more raw and vulnerable than they usually do. he kisses you silly, peppers his lips all over your face until you're laughing underneath him.

and he pulls back to look at your face, and nods to himself. you smile, and push his white hair out of his face with a gentle tilt of your head.

"what's that look for?" you ask.

and that's when you notice the tears welling in his eyes. the tremble of his lip as he recognises a million different feelings at once. and with a sniffle, and a shaky breath, he grins.

"let's get married."

MODERN AU ACESAN !!!! first impressions with a guy who barely passes the No Shoes No Shirt No Service rule

where is the boothill ace content

raspberry leaves

pairing: poly!geto suguru x fem!reader x gojo satoru [jjk au]

warnings: jjk au! geto doesn't defect and everything is happy :)) cursing, periods, severe cramps, painkillers and mentions of taking more than you're supposed to (three instead of two), lots of talk of pain, mentions of vomiting, passing out, panic, mentions of death, mentions of burning yourself, probably ooc megumi but he's a kid here (probably gojo too but I can't not write him soft), family au!, megumi tsumiki and the twins are here!, probably taking liberties on how gojo's technique works but oops, this is for the girlies with severe period symptoms :'), major hurt/comfort

word count: 12.5k

a/n: drops this and yells "scatter!" and disappears back into seclusion. I did not proofread this :)

Gojo Satoru has never woken up so terrified in his life. 

It’s a horrifying thing; to wake up lurching from your sheets as the love of your life cries out in panic just a few hours past midnight. For a moment, Satoru thinks he’s dying – or that he should be – because as he rips his sheets away from his legs, racing to his feet with his pulse already roaring in his eardrums, he turns to find Geto Suguru crumbling to his knees. The dark-haired man is the one who shouted, his hands fumbling to grasp another figure, their body limp and hanging useless in Suguru’s arms.

It’s your frame, clutched tight in Suguru’s big hands, that steals the breath from Satoru’s lungs. Ripping any semblance of oxygen right from his chest, the Six Eyes user is left stumbling on his feet to reach his spouses as they crumble to the floor – you limp in Suguru’s grip as you fall unconscious. 

Suguru shouts, a desperate cry of your name as he finally sinks to the bathroom floor, urgently scrambling to cradle your weight against him and support your figure. When he’s settled on the ground, a hand carefully cradling your face, Suguru looks up at Satoru, panic in his features and his heart in his throat. For a tense second, neither man speaks, too terrified to properly ascertain the situation. Then, Satoru chokes out a desperate question as he stumbles into the doorframe, clutching the wood until he swears it could splinter beneath his hands. 

“What happened?” 

But let’s rewind a moment, shall we? 

It starts two hours after midnight – well, it starts long before that, but it’s that moment you finally decide to pull yourself from the sheets and stumble into the bathroom. That moment, the one of shortened breaths and a weak whimper, is the one to incite the inferno that will wake Gojo Satoru in an hour or so. 

You’ve been awake for hours. Sleep was a stubborn thing; an obstinate, pig-headed bastard that wouldn’t allow you the mercy of relief even hours after you’ve been awake clutching your stomach and trying desperately not to cry. 

It’s agony. Beginning in your left side and rippling through the entirety of your stomach and down your legs, the cramping sensation seizes you with another tight fist and squeezes. It’s agony, and it’s been keeping you awake for hours. 

Your period is merciless. 

You’ve always had terrible cramps. That was a notion you had grown used to when you were young. Painkillers could only do so much, and you hated to have to take as many as you did just to function near normally. The first day of shark week was always terrible, but this? This was pure agony, and you were nearing your breaking point. 

It festered for hours in your stomach, sending cramps through your form in catastrophic waves and pushing against your belly until you thought you were truly going to die. The urge to use the restroom is horrible, but each time you drag yourself to the ensuite bathroom, you sit there as another wave of agony nearly pulls you to your knees. You’re sweaty and tired, figure quivering as another rippling cramp seizes your legs, and you’ve never wanted anything more than the sweet relief of slumber. 

Nothing seems to help. 

A hot water bottle is pressed against your stomach, the liquid inside near boiling as you clutch it against your bare skin – a bad idea, you know, but the sensation of the burn is nowhere near as terrible as the cramps. You’ve downed three painkillers a few hours ago, probably another bad idea, but you’re desperate now. 

You don’t want to wake Suguru or Satoru. It’s a Sunday night, and you know they both have work early tomorrow morning. They have to get the kids to school too. The four of your children always pile into one of your husband’s nice cars just a few hours past dawn. The kids get dropped off at primary school on their way to work, since it’s just around the corner from Jujutsu High. 

You can’t tear their few precious hours of sleep away from them. 

Not for this. 

There’s nothing they can do – nothing you can do but sit and try to ride out the waves of crippling agony until they finally stop. 

You’ve done this before. These cramps aren’t new. You can deal with them on your own. 

Can’t you?

But as you repress a broken sob, pulling yourself away from the silk of your sheets and into the bathroom once more, you’re not quite sure. 

When you reach the ensuite bathroom, another cramp surges through you and the tears you’ve been desperately withholding finally burst forth. Pressing your weight into the wall as the door slides shut, you click the lock and finally allow yourself to crumple. Your head pushes into your knees as you sob, trying to keep your cries quiet and muffled against your hand as the other clutches the hot water bottle against the throb of your stomach. 

You’re tired. You’re tired and you’re in so much pain that your fingers tremble and your legs shake. It’s awful, and you just want to sleep. 

But your uterus must hate you, because your stomach lurches and you scramble to lean over the toilet as you dry heave. You’ve never vomited on your period, but it sure does feel like you will. 

Your skin itches. From the sweat or the general grime, you don’t know, but you hate it. Your chest shakes with another sob and your fists squeeze tight as you whine out a horrible sound of agony. It’s too much and you wish it would just stop. Leaning back against the wall, you sigh out a choked sound as you curl into yourself. 

“Stop,” you whine brokenly, too defeated to even understand who you’re pleading to. “Please stop.” 

Geto Suguru wakes up a few moments later. 

He doesn’t know what pulls him from slumber at first. His brow furrows as consciousness returns, a deep breath leaving his nose as he sighs and takes in the feeling of body weight pressed into his chest. It’s a muscular figure, long and tall, so it must be Satoru. He’s pressed into Suguru’s stomach, body curled small in a near comical way as he attempts to tuck himself beneath Suguru’s chin. The long-haired man nearly huffs a chuckle as he pries open his tired eyes to see his partner. 

Suguru runs a loving hand over the mess of pale white strands that fall into Satoru’s eyes, his lips quirking upwards softly as he smiles. Satoru nuzzles closer in his sleep, letting out a happy sigh as Suguru runs his nails through the other’s undercut. Then Suguru shifts, turning over his shoulder slowly to find you as his hand reaches out to pull you closer.

But you’re not there. 

Suguru startles. Jolting silently as his heart skips a frightened beat, the sorcerer’s eyes rip open as they dilate. His hand finds an empty bed, the sheets cold and the imprint of your figure long lost. Suguru carefully untangles himself from his lover’s long limbs, his long, dark hair falling into his eyes as he sits upright. 

“Baby?” his deep, tired voice rumbles in question. Where are you? He nearly asks, heart pounding in his chest. Are the kids okay? 

Suguru knew it was weird you had chosen to sleep on the edge of the bed tonight. You’re usually more than happy to bury yourself in between them, cuddling close and nuzzling into their chests as you try to pull yourself even tighter into their embrace. 

But last night, you gently pushed Suguru into your place, offering him a wave of your hand and a lame excuse as to why you wanted to sleep on the outside. Something about not wanting to sleep yet, he remembers. 

He waits a moment, hoping you’ve just gotten up to use the restroom and you’ll return to them soon. The sound of Satoru’s quiet breaths echo through the space, and has to fill the long seconds by tracing his fingers over his lover’s back. Tracing gentle lines over the defined muscles, Suguru sighs softly and tries to calm his racing pulse. 

A minute passes. Then another. And one more – until Suguru isn’t sure how long he’s been waiting. 

Then Suguru cannot resist the swell of panic that ripples through his stomach. 

His heart lurches in his chest as he swings his legs over the side of the bed, too panicked to offer Satoru more than a hushed sound and a stroke over his back when he tiredly mumbles in protest. 

“‘M just gettin’ up for a sec,’” he mumbles quietly, swallowing back the lump in his throat when he sees the light in the bathroom on. “I’ll be back, love.” 

Satoru grumbles something else, but is soothed when Suguru presses a gentle kiss to his brow. 

“M’kay,” Satoru sighs, easily falling back asleep as he snuggles into the warmth Suguru left behind on the bed. If he wasn’t so worried, Suguru would smile, his heart clenching tight in his chest as he watches Satoru curl into his spot with a soft sound. 

When Suguru stands, adjusting his sweats as he quietly makes his way to the bathroom, he pulls his hair from his eyes. Brushing the strands over his bare shoulder, he sighs as he fiddles for a hair tie in his pocket. He doesn't find one, so he simply pushes the dark strands back from his brow, letting them fall behind him and settle against his bare back. 

You’ve always liked it when his hair is loose anyway. 

Suguru knocks on the bathroom door first. It’s quiet, but you should be able to hear it. When you don’t respond, Suguru frowns and tries again. Knocking gently once more, he swallows as another wave of panic curls in his stomach. 

“Sweetheart?” he tries quietly, voice still rumbling deeply from the slumber he was pulled from. “You’ve been in there a while, honey. Are you alright?” 

Still, you don’t respond. 

You want to. Of course you want to. It’s Suguru, and you don’t want to worry him. 

But the waves of agonizing cramps have stolen your voice. All you can do is sit still and breathe. You feel utterly useless. There’s nothing you can do but control the slow pace of your breaths in a desperate attempt to distract yourself from the crippling sensation radiating from your stomach. 

You want to respond – tell him you’re alright, tell him something, but the agony seals your lips shut. It’s horrible and another wave of tears spill from your tired eyes. You hate it. You wish you would stop crying; it’s not helping and it only makes you feel weak. 

“Baby? I’m gettin’ worried.” 

All you can manage is a sad, weak sound in response. It leaves your lips in more a sob than a hum, and you muffle the tears that shiver through you after. 

“Honey!” Suguru murmurs worriedly, trying to twist the handle of the door, only to curse when he discovers it’s locked. “What’s going on? Are you okay?” 

He shifts on his feet, lifting a hand to pull on the strands on his hair to soothe some of his panic. The sound you manage in response is another broken hum, and it only worsens the thundering pulse of Suguru’s heart. His gut twists as he tries the knob again, as if a few seconds will have changed the status of the lock. 

You whine and Suguru swears his heart cracks. His head presses against the door as his eyes squeeze shut, fist still closed around the handle. 

“Can you open the door f’me, sweetheart?” he murmurs desperately. “‘M really worried about you.” 

Your eyes close, the watery burn rendering them useless as you sniffle. You huff around another breath of pain, pushing your head further into your knees. Trembling softly as your skin flushes, you battle against the waves of agony and the flash of heat that makes you feel sickly. Another wave of nausea ripples in your gut, and you remember how awful you must look. 

Your hair is plastered against your head and your neck and you must look a mess. Wearing a pair of oversized sweats and one of Suguru’s shirts, you feel utterly gross. More than anything you want to open the door and let Suguru take you in his arms. Cuddling into his firm chest and feeling his big arms wrap around you would probably feel nice, but you’re all too aware of how sickly you must look. 

You don’t want him to see you like this: sweaty, messy and sick as you curl in on yourself as you weep through another terrible cramp. You just want to sleep – you want it to stop, everything needs to stop. 

Suguru hums out another question, but you don’t really hear it. It’s not until you hear the lilt of panic in his voice and his voice fiddling with the handle of the door do you manage to find your voice. 

“Sugu…” 

He startles. Head darting up to the door in front of him, Suguru breathes a sigh of relief and chokes out your name. 

“Open the door, darling,” he whispers softly. “Please…” 

You shake your head even though you know he can’t see it. Frowning as you sniffle, you lick your lips to taste salt and the disgusting hint of snot. You’re a mess, and you don’t want him to see you. 

“No, Sugu,” you manage to mutter, head knocking back to rest against the wall as you continue to focus on breathing through your mouth. You visibly shiver through another cramp, this time seizing and whining as it echoes through your legs. 

Suguru bites down on his lip, feeling another sliver of his heart crack at the broken sound of your voice. It pains him, your defeated sigh. He desperately wants to comfort you, to bring you into his chest and kiss your tears away. His hands ache to touch your skin, to feel the warmth he knows by heart. Closing his eyes as he rests his forehead against the wood of the door, Suguru sighs and swallows as he speaks again. 

“Why not?” he murmurs worriedly, voice clipping words from fatigue pulling at his figure. “I need t’know you’re alright, my love.” 

“Don’t wan’ you t’see me.”

Suguru’s head tilts and the lump in his throat swells. Heart clenching sadly, one of his hands lifts to rest on the door, as if he can reach you on the other side if he tries hard enough. He knows he can get through this door if he really wanted. It would be too easy for him to splinter the frame with his strength alone, and he has more than one curse at his disposal that could pick a lock smoothly. 

It’s the sound of your voice that holds him back. 

You’re so… tired. You’re broken whisper echoes through the wooden door with a sad coo, and it makes Suguru’s chest ache. 

“My sweet girl…” Suguru whispers, fingers trailing across the wood like they’re desperate to stroke across your cheek. “Why don’t you want me to see you?” 

You frustratedly sigh, cursing the tears that continue to track down your cheeks. No matter what you do, they keep dripping over your skin in tiny rivulets, staining your face with tracks of dried salt. You wipe them away but they’re quickly replaced by another stream. 

You just want to sleep. 

“I don’t feel good, Sugu,” you sigh tiredly, voice quivering around tears. It’s pathetic – how watery you sound. You wish you were stronger. “I look bad and I don’t want wan’ t’keep you an’ Toru awake.” 

You don’t feel good? He nearly questions. Why didn’t you wake me? 

But all he does is sigh softly, fists clenching against the door. For a moment he contemplates waking Satoru, knowing you probably won’t be able to resist them both. Though, when he turns over his shoulder, Suguru sees the bags beneath his lover’s eyes and the tired slump of his form in their sheets. 

Satoru needs his sleep. It’s difficult enough for him to find slumber when the Six Eyes strains him dry. 

Suguru lets him rest. 

He murmurs your name again, his eyes closing as he continues to rest against the door. 

“I’m in love with you, you know?” Suguru sighs sweetly, his lips lifting slightly to reveal a fond smile. “You could never ‘look bad’ to me, my darling.” 

Shifting on his feet and looking up at the ceiling, his shoulders sag as he worries. What if you don’t open the door? He’s considering settling on the floor with his back against the door when he whispers again. 

“And you don’t need t’worry about keepin’ me awake, alright? I want you t’come to me when you’re not feeling good.” 

He pauses once, dropping his hand from the knob as he breathes. 

“I worry about you, honey,” he finishes. “I just need to know you’re okay.” 

You sniffle, feeling the cramp finally seep away to nothing. They’re not over, you can feel another wave rising from beneath the last, but at least they offer you a single moment to reach up and twist the lock. 

It’s too much for you to handle alone. 

You want to bury yourself in Suguru’s strong arms and weep as the pain shivers through you. If there’s nothing you can do to soothe the agony, then at least you won’t be alone. 

“Okay.”

Suguru hears the lock click. 

Gasping softly, he pulls himself upright and reaches down to grip the handle of the door with a skip of his heart. He was pondering waiting outside the door in the fading light of the moon when you whispered the tired word. His chest aches when he twists the knob, pulling the door open to reveal your figure.

You’re curled on the floor, calves crossed and legs pulled into your chest as you bury your head into your knees. Your arms wrap around yourself, one hand clutching the hot water bottle pressed tightly to your stomach. 

Suguru frowns, his heart thumping sadly as you weep out another broken sound. His entire body aches in a way he cannot describe, physically pained at the choked sounds of agony leaving your lips. He’s already on his knees at your side when you lift your head, looking up at him through your tears and your lip quivering in a way he knows you cannot control. 

He’s never seen you look so hurt. 

“Oh, sweetheart…” he coos quietly, putting the pieces together as you shiver through another wave of crippling cramps, hand squeezing tight around your leg – your period. “You’re not alright.” 

“No,” you weep, shaking your head with watery eyes leaking salty droplets down your cheeks, and you suck in a shaking breath as your fists clench. Your brow furrows as your eyelids squeeze shut, unable to mask the pain as it ripples through you. Suguru’s face softens into an expression of pain, frowning sadly. You have a high pain tolerance for your period cramps – he knows that. You’ve had painful periods your whole life, and he and Satoru have seen you conceal the agony in your features for years. 

This is a knife to his heart. 

You can’t conceal the sweat on your brow, nor the tremble of your fingers and the painful gasp of breath you suck in when the pain returns tenfold. 

“It hurts, Sugu…” 

“I know, I’m sorry,” he whispers sadly, desperately wishing there’s something he can do to stall the agony. “C’mere, honey.”

Suguru’s mouth twists into an expression of pain, and he carefully wraps an arm around your shoulders. Pulling you away from the wall, the dark-haired man maneuvers you into his chest as he sits onto the floor. You twist into his embrace, wrapping your arms around his frame as you weep softly into his bare chest, caring little for the tears that stain his skin. Suguru could care less. He’s far too worried about the expression plastered onto your features and the shiver that trembles through you. 

“How long have you been up?” he whispers as he cradles you in his lap, hand stroking over your hair and strong arm wrapping around you. 

You shake your head and Suguru’s frown deepens – if it’s even possible. 

“Haven’t slept yet.” 

Suguru’s hair falls into his eyes as he leans down to press a gentle kiss between your brows. He stays there, breathing through his noses as he continues to lay tiny kisses to your forehead. His eyes screw shut, hand stroking over your cheek as you bury yourself deeper into his embrace. 

Your skin is warm, flushed with heat and your hair sticks to your forehead in a way Suguru knows must make you feel sickly. He carefully strokes the strands away and kisses the skin beneath with a soft sigh. 

“Have you been awake all night?” he finally whispers, voice deep and quietly sad. “With cramps like this?”

You nod into his chest, wincing again and closing your eyes as you sob through another agonizing cramp. Your legs shake as you tuck them into yourself together, trying desperately to push the hot water bottle deeper into your skin. 

“Oh, baby…” he sighs, leaning back to rest against the wall and pull you back into him. He strokes another hand across your face, thumbing the space between your brows when he sees the way they’re scrunched. “Why didn’t you wake me?” 

You sigh and breathe a few times to steady yourself, slowly loosening your fists when Suguru pries your fingers open to intertwine his own around yours. He pulls your hands into his chest, tucking them by his heart so you can feel the pulse of his heart. He hopes you don’t notice how quick it’s beating. He’s still worried. Suguru cannot help the way his heart lurches when you wince. As if each throb of agony is his own, Suguru buries his face closer to your own, clutching onto your hand and not faltering when you tighten your grip to counter the waves of pain echoing through you. 

“You’ve got work in the morning,” you pant quietly, voice still watery and weak. “And you an’ Toru gotta’ take the kids.” 

“Honey…” he sighs sweetly. “You’re in pain… I want you t’wake me if you’re in pain, sweetheart. No amount of sleep could soothe me if you’re hurt and alone.” 

You manage a hum in response, face still screwed shut and Suguru frowns when you muffle another sob as a cramp seizes you once more. 

“Okay, baby… Okay,” he whispers, rocking you into him a little in an attempt to distract you. Now is not the time for a lecture, he supposes.“You’re alright, darling. You’re gonna be alright.” 

He hates the sound of your tears. 

When you shudder through another agonizing sound, Suguru’s face crumples. He’s never felt so useless. You’re in agony, and he can do nothing to fix it. 

“You took your painkillers?” 

You nod again, weeping into his chest and squeezing his hand tight. 

“Three,” you mumble tiredly, focusing on the feeling of Suguru’s warm, bare chest pressed against your skin. It’s grounding and you don’t want to move. “They aren’t working.”

“How long ago?” 

He doesn't want to pester you with questions, but he’s desperately pulling at strings, hoping one will grant him the solution to your pain. 

“Midnight,” you manage. You wince again, and Suguru peppers kisses along your hairline, gently hushing you. You curl tighter into yourself, desperately huffing as the pain continues to swell higher. It feels like it will break at any moment, but it just… doesn’t. The agony continues to rise, as if there is no limit to its torment. The cramping sensation just comes back again and again, until you’re sure that there’s something wrong. How can a period be so painful? 

“It hurts so bad, Sugu,” you cry, reaching the end of your tether. You’re desperate for the ache to stop, but it feels like there’s no  point of end in sight. “I just want it to stop…” 

Suguru feels his stomach twist, heart crying out in a pattern of your name. He pulls you tighter, a wave of his own tears swelling behind his eyes. Your cries chip at his heart, pieces of his soul falling apart in your agony. He wishes he could do something – use some kind of technique to null the pain, to soothe you, anything. 

“I know, honey,” he soothes, cradling you closer and rubbing his finger over your cheek as he murmurs into your hairline. “I’m sorry I can’t do anything more. I’m sorry I can’t take this from you.” 

You shake your head, clutching him tight as you attempt to focus on your breaths again. Hand wrapped tightly around his own, you try to use his touch as a grounding sensation. Eventually, the lulling motion of his finger over your cheek and his lips at your hairline soothe some of the tension beneath your skin. You relax into his touch despite the continuous waves of cramps still panging through your stomach. 

“Just stay,” you weep, lifting your other hand from your stomach to clutch behind Suguru’s head. You hold onto his neck, burying your fingers in his soft hair and desperately inhale his familiar scent. Suguru is familiar – he’s safe. “Please…”

You don’t have to worry about anything as long as Suguru and Satoru are around. 

“Always, sweetheart,” he whispers against you, dropping the hand at your cheek to press your hot water bottle into your stomach for you. “Always. You don’t have t’ask.” 

 His large hand keeps your bottle in place, spreading across your stomach and rubbing soothing circles into your waist with his thumb. His hand is big enough to settle on your stomach and the fabric of your hot water bottle. 

Suguru hates this. He hates seeing you in pain. He hates that all he can do is sit and press delicate kisses to your hairline as you writhe in agony. It physically pains him to be unable to help – to have to watch as one of the loves of his life suffers. 

Suguru buries his nose into your hair and kisses you once more, whispering sweet words of encouragement and humming in an attempt to distract you. He loves you so much, and he hopes you know that. 

“You’re doing so well, my darling.”  

Eventually, the wave passes, and you limply release your intense grip on his fingers and relax into his hold. It’s a slow process. Finally succumbing to some brief glimpse of exhaustion, you slip loosely into Suguru’s hold and trust him to catch you. There will be another cramp soon, but at least this one is over. You breathe out a sigh and look up at Suguru with tears on your lashes. 

Strands of his dark hair fall into his eyes, and Suguru has never looked more beautiful to you. Sitting on the bathroom floor with you three hours past midnight, no shirt and a loose pair of sweats on his hips (ones he’s not sure are his own), and Suguru has never looked so endearing. The way he looks down at you, bangs dangling in front of his dark eyes and full lips leaning down to kiss your face gently; he’s princely. 

Your heart finally slows to an acceptable pace as Suguru leans down, and you close your eyes as he lays a soft kiss to one of your eyelids. His full lips peck sweetly against one, then he leans away to kiss the other. Your eyes well with tears again, but this time you think they’re for a different reason. 

“Hi,” he whispers sweetly, lips lifting to show you that tiny smile of his that makes your heart do funny things. You’re too tired to offer much more than a sigh and a quirk of your lips, but Suguru is grateful for the expression all the same. 

“Hi, Sugu.” 

“Are you feeling any better?” 

You shake your head, sighing quietly as you shift.

“Not really.”

Suguru frowns again, and you’re tempted to lift your thumbs to pull his lips upwards again. Suguru looks so much prettier when he smiles. 

“I’m sorry, honey,” he whispers. “Do you wanna get off the floor, at least? The bed’s much more comfortable and Toru’s gonna start worrying soon.”

You figure now is the best time to try moving, so you nod. There’s probably only a few minutes between these waves of terrible cramps, so you’ll take the moment you have to get back into bed. 

“M’kay,” you sigh tiredly. Suguru's expression softens for a reason you don’t understand, but the sorcerer fondly smiles as he thinks of the same sound Satoru had made just minutes before. 

“Alright, love. Let’s get you up, alright?”

You nod again, allowing Suguru to unwind his limbs from yours. He softly chuckles when you whine as his fingers unlace from your own, but readjusts his grip to carefully pull you to stand. He holds his other hand out, tenderly helping you stand. 

“Careful…” he whispers. “Go slow, baby.” 

Your head spins as you stand and you lift a hand to press against your temple. The rolling tide of nausea in your stomach had quelled for the time being, but the tremble of your legs is still too apparent. You step forward shakily, reaching out to grasp Suguru’s outstretched hand with a grateful smile. He returns the look with soft eyes and nods sweetly as he allows you to step out of the bathroom first. 

When he’s certain you can stand on your own, Suguru turns over his shoulder to turn off the bathroom light and shut the door. 

But he only gets so far. 

Suddenly, you inhale sharply. Freezing in place, your body curls inwards on itself as a blinding swell of cramps overtakes your form. This one is sharp and crippling, radiating down your legs until even your calves feel weak. Your body is suddenly too hot, and the air is far too cold. Shivers trickle down your spine and you feel that all too familiar bolt of stifling panic strike through your chest. It runs through the entirety of your figure, sizzling beneath your skin and striking each nerve it passes. You feel that terrible curl of your stomach and the waves of oncoming panic filter through you.

You sway on your feet. 

Something’s wrong. And it’s making you panic. 

You open your mouth, lip quivering as you attempt to croak out a plea of Suguru’s name, but nothing comes. Some tired, broken whine leaves your lips instead – a desperate cry for help, for Suguru.

When Suguru turns around, head whipping over his shoulder sharply, he expects to see you headed towards his side of the bed. Instead, he’s met with your body swaying slightly as you pant and shiver. Suguru thinks his heart stops. 

Then your body stills, and you crumple. 

“Baby!” 

Suguru throws himself forward, just managing to grab your figure as it goes limp. He sways, shifting your weight into his arms and panicking as you continue to sink into the floor. Your body is dead weight in his hands, still shivering but cold and unmoving. 

He’s going to be sick. 

His stomach curls as bile spills onto the back of his tongue, and Suguru can hear his heart pound in his ears. The lump is back in his throat, swelling until he can barely suck in a desperate breath to calm his panicked heart. Fuck, he’s never been so scared. 

“Baby, oh fuck!” he cries, voice no longer quiet and delicate. Suguru openly shouts, desperately trying to carefully maneuver you to the floor, but his mind is screaming thousands of things at him at once. All he can hear is the roaring in his eardrums. His eyes scan over your limp figure and Suguru swears his heart cracks. He can feel it; deep within his chest, a splinter finally cleaves open. 

“Oh my god, okay,” Suguru chokes out, carefully cradling you as he sinks to his knees. “You’re alright, okay? I’ve got you, honey.”

He doesn’t know what to do. His heart is pounding and his soul is openly weeping. There are tears welling in his eyes and dragging down the pristine skin of his cheeks. 

Suguru doesn't know what to do. 

“Okay,” he whispers frightfully. “Okay…”

You’re laying on your back, facing the ceiling, and the way your blank expression stares back at him makes him nauseous. 

“Sweetheart?” he calls carefully, brushing a hand over your cheek to push hair away from your face. “Baby, c’mon…” 

You don’t respond. There’s not even a twitch in your brow or a flick of your fingers. You’re unconscious. Suguru’s heart accelerates again, pounding until he thinks it might burst from his bony rib cage. He turns over his shoulder with a broken cry, calling for the one person he so urgently needs. 

“Satoru!” 

His voice is panicked, shouted with a guttural cry and he thinks it might echo through the house, but Suguru vaguely hopes he doesn't wake the kids. 

“Satoru, wake up!”

But Satoru is already awake. 

Lurching forward in the bed, the Six Eyes user is already throwing the sheets away from his legs as he scans the room. His technique is activated, and Suguru can feel the familiar curtain of Infinity wrap around his body. 

“Suguru?” Satoru calls as he stands, his body tense and prepared to fight. “What happened? Are you alright?” 

Suguru doesn’t have the chance to respond, because Satoru steps forward and his crystalline eyes find his lover’s hunched figure crouched in the doorway of the bathroom, bent over the body of their wife. You’re limp on the floor, hair sprawled out beneath you as Suguru cradles your head and glances up at his partner with desperate, fearful eyes. 

Satoru thinks he’s dying. 

It’s the only possible explanation for the lack of oxygen in his lungs and the stuttered pulse of his heart. His legs wane at his knees, nearly propelling him into the floor, but Satoru manages to keep himself upright as he throws his hands forward to brace himself on the bathroom doorway. 

“What…?” Satoru whispers breathily, voice uncharacteristically quiet – uncharacteristically weak. “What happened?” 

His Six Eyes are activated, flickering over every crevice of your form. They’re urgent, desperate to find the source of your pain. When they find nothing, Satoru swallows back a sound of desperation. 

“She passed out,” Suguru whispers plainly, panic evident in the quiver of his voice. “She started her period early, Toru. She’s in so much pain…”

Satoru feels his knees wane again. His heart can’t take much more of this. She’s in pain? His soul cries. 

“She’s been laying on the bathroom floor crying,” his lover mumbles, stroking a hand over your cheekbone as a tear drips into his mouth. “I shouldn’t have asked her t’get up – she was weak and I didn’t think –”

“Suguru.” 

The dark-haired sorcerer stops. Lifting his head to stare up at Satoru, Suguru frowns. 

“This isn’t your fault, Suguru,” Satoru whispers, trying desperately to keep himself calm. His heart is in his throat and his pulse roars, but he cannot allow himself to weaken. Suguru needs him – you need him. 

“She’s not waking up…”

Satoru sucks in a breath, his hands curling into the doorframe and gripping the wood until he thinks it will splinter beneath his grip. And it might. Satoru has to be mindful of the strength he uses. 

‘She’s not waking up.’ The phrase echoes through his head until it’s the only thing he can process. You’re not waking up. His wife isn’t waking up. 

“Is she…” Satoru doesn't even know if he can say what he wants to know – what he needs to know. The words make him ill. “Is she breathing?” 

Suguru chokes out a desperate sound. He hadn’t even considered…

And he doesn't want to. 

His hand seizes one of yours, wrapping tightly around your fingers as he pulls it into his chest as he did before. He pleads for you to wake up and feel his heart pulse against your fingers again, just as you had minutes ago. He delicately thumbs over your pulse point, hand sliding down your neck where he cradles your cheek. 

Suguru openly weeps when the thumping beat of your heart races beneath his fingers in greeting. 

“Yeah…” he sobs out weakly, pushing his forehead into your chest. “Yeah, she’s breathing.” 

Satoru sags in relief.

“Okay,” he covers his mouth with one of his palms, trying to suppress the broken sound that nearly leaves him. “Okay, that’s good.” 

Before either man can ascertain what to do, there's rustling at the doorway. It’s a quiet sound, just a soft coo and the creak of the door as it slides open. Satoru’s head whips around, his fingers twitching to activate his technique when he falters. 

Because seven year old Fushiguro Megumi stands in the doorway: his son. 

Megumi’s clutching a plush dog, one that looks remarkably familiar to his Divine Dogs. The soft, dark fur is cradled in his hands as he hugs the stuffed animal to his chest. The plush nearly conceals him entirely, and his dark, spiky hair pokes out over the red mark on the dog’s forehead. It’s a matching toy – the dark one was a gift from Suguru while the white counterpart came from Satoru. They were presents (custom-made plushies) ordered by his fathers when Megumi successfully summoned his Divine Dogs for the first time. 

Satoru still whines when Megumi prefers the dark stuffed animal to the white one. But Satoru doesn't know that Megumi snuggles the alabaster-coated dog when he’s gone on long missions. The boy barely goes anywhere without it until his father comes home. 

“What’s goin’ on?” Megumi tiredly mumbles, one of his hands lifting to rub at his eyes as he yawns. His too big shirt, one of Satoru’s shirts from their youth, hangs over his frame and covers his knees. You were the one to tuck your son into bed last night, and Satoru doesn’t have the moment to fondly think of his boy asking to wear one of his dad’s shirts to bed. 

Satoru sucks in a quiet breath, quickly glancing over his shoulder at Suguru. His husband is still on the bathroom floor, bent over your unconscious figure, but he looks up at Satoru with a silent nod. He’s alright. You’re alright. 

Satoru sighs and turns back to Megumi, suddenly glad the ensuite bathroom is hidden from the doorway to their bedroom. He doesn't want Megumi to see his mother unconscious, or his fathers’ panic. He doesn’t want Megumi to see him scared. Satoru is his father – he needs to show his son that everything is going to be alright. 

Swallowing down his tempered fear, Satoru tries to conceal the quiver of his voice when he responds to his son. 

“It’s –” Satoru stops. He can’t say ‘it’s nothing.’ Because it’s not nothing; and he won’t lie to his son. “It’s alright, Megumi.”

That’s what he decides to say instead. Satoru breathes through his nose deeply as he tries not to turn back over his shoulder to check on you again. 

“Mama’s just having some cramps, she’ll be okay.” 

Megumi nods. He knows what Satoru means, because Geto Suguru would be damned before he raised a son that thinks menstruation was ‘gross.’ Megumi doesn’t know everything – he’s still a kid, afterall. He does know, however, that his mother is plagued with terrible pain once a month, and that it’s completely natural to talk about it. 

Megumi toddles on his feet, the fatigue of the early morning hour making him uncharacteristically soft. He’s usually quite stoic for a kid, exhibiting the same, blank sort of look impassively. But no matter how quiet, you and the boys are well-adept at deciphering your kid’s feelings by now. 

With sleep tugging at his eyes, Megumi paws at his tired lids and yawns sweetly. Shifting his balance again, the boy looks up at Satoru with a tiny, sweet frown.

“Mama’s hurting?” he pouts, bottom lip sticking out slightly. His fists tighten around his stuffed dog, eyes shifting around Satoru to try to get a glimpse of you. Fortunately, Suguru has already readjusted you in his arms and you’re both hidden in the ensuite bathroom. 

“Yeah…” Satoru coughs to conceal the tremor of his voice. “Yeah, Mama’s hurting a little. But she’s strong, remember? She’ll be alright, her cramps will go away soon.” 

He doesn’t know if his words are an attempt to convince Megumi or himself. 

 From behind Satoru, Suguru strokes another thumb over your cheekbone. He inhales a shaking breath as he feels the frightful warmth of your skin. 

“C’mon…” he whispers in the tiny space that separates you. “Wake up, sweetheart. Let me see those pretty eyes again.” 

Swallowing thickly, Suguru’s throat bobs as a tear begins to leak down his cheek. 

“Please.” 

He’s lost. Suguru doesn’t know what to do other than count the seconds since you’ve gone still in his arms. Each one feels longer than the last, but Suguru continues to count them. He doesn’t know why he does it. Perhaps some part of him thinks there is a certain point at which he’ll need to call for help. Is there a distinct period of time that has to pass before you need medical attention? 

Suguru curses himself for not paying enough attention to Shoko’s basic first-aid lessons. 

Satoru’s head flicks over his shoulder, crystalline-blue eyes finding your face as his heart clenches again. He’s conflicted. More than anything, he wants to drop to his knees at your side, just as Suguru has. He wants to clutch your remaining hand and feel the pulse of your heart as a reminder that you’re still there – still breathing. His heart hurts; torn between lingering at your side and comforting his son.

But then Satoru remembers the way you look at your kids. He recalls the fond crease of your eyes when you beam down at them, smiles shining and hands drawing them into you for an embrace. You love your kids more than anything, even though you’ve only had them for a few years now. Even though they’re not your biological kids, even though they’re not babies, and despite not even wanting children before them; they’re your pride and joy. 

Satoru finds the strength within him to smile fondly. He knows you would be pushing him in Megumi’s direction if you had any semblance of consciousness right now. 

Satoru tries not to frown at the reminder of your state. 

Turning on his feet, Satoru steps away from the door, even as his heart cries out for him to return to your side. The remainder of his heart calls for his son – his boy, who is beginning to worry about his mother. It’s evident in the way Megumi shifts on his feet, fiddling with the soft fur of his stuffed pup. 

When Satoru drops to his knees in front of Megumi, he spreads his arms wide in an invitation. He doesn’t expect Megumi to accept; he rarely does. Satoru is affectionate, it’s a sentiment clear as day, and Megumi usually prefers to avoid physical touch. He’s shy that way. 

So Satoru is fondly surprised when Megumi toddles tiredly on his feet as he leans into his father’s embrace. Wrapping his arms tight around his son, Satoru stands from the floor with his heart beginning to return to a normal pace. Having Megumi in his arms is a comfort that soothes some of his rampaging nerves. The knowledge that the rest of his family is safe is a notion that eases some of the tension in his shoulders. Satoru knows he won’t find sleep for the rest of the night if he doesn’t peek into the girl’s room later to ensure they’re sleeping peacefully. 

“It’s alright, Gumi,” Satoru whispers softly, stroking a hand through the spiky strands of the boy’s hair. Megumi rests his head on Satoru’s shoulder with a sigh. “Why did you wake up so early, bud?” 

Megumi wraps an arm around Satoru’s neck, the other still cradling his pup between them. He closes his eyes and sighs sleepily once more as he mumbles in response. 

“Heard Dad yell,” he tiredly whispers. He fiddles with a strand of Satoru’s white hair before he sheepishly continues. “I was scared…”

Satoru tries his hardest not to tease the boy. He knows it’s in his nature to make light of situations with humor, but Satoru also understands that this, perhaps, is not the time. Despite wanting to make Megumi feel better by laughing off the problem, Satoru also remembers the horrible strike of panic that had bolted through him when he heard Suguru yell. 

Waking up to Suguru crying out for you as you collapsed was horrifying, and Satoru can only imagine how frightening it was for Megumi. 

“Oh Gumi, I’m sorry,” Satoru whispers, rocking on his feet in an attempt to comfort the boy. Even though Megumi isn’t a baby, Satoru cannot help the instinctive sway of his feet as he runs a hand through his hair. “Dad didn’t mean to shout, pup. He was just worried about Mom.” 

Megumi nods softly, snuggling closer to Satoru’s chest in a way that makes the father’s heart ache. 

“Can I… Can I help?” Megumi quietly questions, words spoken only for his father to hear. “Mom always makes me feel better when I’m sick.” 

Megumi mumbles something else; something that sounds like ‘don’t wan’ mom t’feel bad,’ but it’s muffled into Satoru’s neck and he barely catches it. 

Satoru smiles despite the panic still roaring in his chest. The way Megumi calls you ‘mom’ and Suguru ‘dad’ has always made him a little emotional. It took more than a year for Megumi to truly grow comfortable in your makeshift family, but eventually the boy’s cautious exterior melted away into what he really was: a kid looking for a home – a family. He was abandoned for God’s sake, Satoru knows the kid was guarded when he found him. And he had every right to be. 

But in just a few short years, Megumi has begun to call Tsumiki and the twins his sisters and on rare occasions, he’ll call Satoru his father. However, he knows those nights will always end in Satoru smothering him with affections and playful teases so he refrains from doing it often. Satoru does not take offense; he knows Megumi is shy. 

“Yeah, she takes good care of us, huh?” Satoru murmurs fondly as he rubs a hand over his son’s back. 

Before Satoru can reassure Megumi further, he’s interrupted when Suguru lets out a relieved sound over his shoulder. It’s a strange sort of combination of a sob and a gasp, but Satoru hears it all the same. 

“Sweetheart…?” Satoru hears Suguru call, voice brighter but still wavering through the short syllables. 

There’s a muffled sound of shuffling, then a groan and a cough before Suguru is concealing his tears in your neck. 

Satoru exhales with relief, shoulders sagging as his eyes slide shut. He rubs a hand over Megumi’s back in the hopes the boy doesn’t see the fear slowly seeping from his father. 

Inside the bathroom, Suguru clutches your hand tight to his chest, squeezing it thankfully and burying his face in your neck as he bends over you. Blinking slowly, you huff a choked breath and shakily reach upwards to lay your palm over Suguru’s head. Tangling your fingers in the mess of loose, dark hair you sigh deeply through your mouth. It’s a relief to feel Suguru bent over you; his weight presses into your chest and grounds you as you come back to consciousness. Though you’re still dizzy and a bit panicked, the feeling is beginning to leech from your limbs like poison from a wound. 

Waking up was startling, and there’s a lingering sense of fear buzzing beneath your skin. It frightens you, and you clutch tightly onto Suguru with a tremble. The pain still twists in your stomach, but it’s nothing compared to how you felt before you passed out. 

“Suguru…” 

His name comes out in a sort of pleading cry, not unlike a frightened child, but you cannot help the way you long for his comfort. Tears leak from your eyes, another wave of salt that you find you cannot control. 

Suguru responds to your call with a sweet coo, pressing a wet kiss to the skin of your throat and rumbling deep within his chest to reassure you that he’s still there. Brushing your hair from your eyes, Suguru leans away to peck your temple and stare down at you with relief painted across his features. 

“You’re alright, honey. ‘S okay,” he whispers warmly, soothing the tension in your brow and brushing your tears away. When your eyes crack open, staring up at him with waning fear and confusion, Suguru huffs a laugh and smiles widely. “Hey, pretty girl.” 

 Your lips quiver upwards into a sort of sad smile, but Suguru is happy to see it despite the exhaustion in your features. Squeezing his hand, you look up at the dark-haired sorcerer as his hair falls into his eyes. 

“Wha’ happened?” 

Suguru looks over his shoulder, mouthing something you can’t hear, but you know he must be talking to Satoru. The muffled sound of his voice barely reaches your ears as you wade through the stream of your consciousness. You fight to keep Suguru in focus, and fortunately manage to cling to the waking world as sounds finally return to your senses. Something that sounds like “she’s alright, Toru,” rings through the bathroom, and then there’s the sound of Satoru replying but you can’t hear it. Your heart calls out for your other husband, and you squeeze Suguru’s hand in question. 

“You passed out, darling,” Suguru looks back down at you with a sad smile. He hushes you when you wiggle, trying to sit upright. “Careful, love, careful. You scared the shit out of me, you know?” 

Shooting him a sorry glance, you allow Suguru to gently lift you to a seated position every so slowly. He leans you against him, his thick thighs on either side of your hips as he lets you rest against his chest. You nod slowly as he delicately pulls your hair from your face and wraps his arms around you. 

“Sorry.”

Suguru shakes his head with a hum. 

“Don’t apologize, baby,” he whispers. “I’m just glad you’re awake. Are you feeling alright? How’s the pain?”

You slouch into his chest, wrapping your arms around your waist and nodding as your eyes slide shut. 

“‘S not so bad. Where’s Toru?”

Suguru’s heart clenches sweetly, feeling warmed by your desire for Satoru. He adores the two of you with his entire being, and watching both of you always strikes a fond chord within his chest.

“He’s taking care of Gumi,” Suguru murmurs, looking down at you with a lovesick expression you cannot see. When you sit up straighter, Suguru accommodates your position with a scooch of his hips and his arm falling into your lap. 

“Gumi’s awake?”

“Yeah,” your husband responds quietly. “I think he heard me shout when you fell. He came in a few minutes ago, and Satoru’s comforting him.”

Suguru sounds a little guilty when he mentions his outburst. He’s not embarrassed by any means; it was a cry shouted in overwhelming fear, so he feels no bashfulness for the tone of his voice. He does, however, feel guilty that he managed to wake his son in the process. 

“He’s worried about you, I think.”

We all are, he almost finishes. 

You sag into Suguru’s chest, weight sinking into the warmth of his bare skin as you slide your hand over the arm that is wrapped around you. Just as you begin to speak, Satoru peeks his head through the doorway. His body is twisted, obscuring Megumi’s view inside the bathroom. When he finds your gaze, Satoru visibly softens. 

“Hey, sweet girl,” Satoru rumbles, a fond smile spreading across his features. “You feeling alright?”

You nod tiredly, resting your head against Suguru’s clavicle.

“That’s good. We were really worried, honey.” 

Your sigh through your nose, trying to give him an apologetic look, but the fatigue is beginning to pull your eyelids downwards. Satoru’s gaze softens even further, if at all possible, and he continues. 

“Can Megumi come in? He’s worried about you,” Satoru reiterates his partner’s words, clearly holding the boy against his chest as he speaks. 

You’re about to nod, more than happy to cuddle with your son, when Suguru interrupts. Stroking a hand over your hip, the long-haired sorcerer hums. 

“Let us come out, love,” he responds, already beginning to shift you in his lap. “We can talk about this in bed. I think everyone’s a little tired right now.” 

You nod in agreement, feeling the ache of your muscles cry out for rest. Your arm trembles weakly when you lift your hand, and you frown at the lack of strength in your limbs. Suguru hushes you sweetly as he shifts you to sit upright as he stands. 

“You’re exhausted, baby. It’s normal.” 

Satoru murmurs his agreement on the other side of the doorway, already beginning to step away to set Megumi in the middle of your massive bed. He ensures the boy is comfortable as he stands upright, stretching his shoulders and turning to watch as Suguru hoists you up onto his hips slowly. Satoru figured he wasn’t going to let you walk after what happened the first time you tried. 

Suguru’s hand is carefully cradling your head and the other wraps beneath your hips, keeping you stable and pressed against his big frame. The sorcerer is incredibly strong from the years of exorcizing curses and teaching students, so carrying you to the bed, despite your muffled protests, is an easy venture. 

Setting you on the bed gently, you shift quickly to face Megumi as you lay back against the sheets. You nestle quickly into Suguru’s previous place in bed, already reaching out for your son as he nuzzles forward to latch onto your front. 

“Hey, hun,” you whisper kindly, brushing dark strands from Megumi’s eyes. “What’s going on, Gumi?”

The boy looks up at you, still clutching his Divine Dog plush, and frowns. Your head tilts in confusion, and you watch as Megumi makes himself comfortable in your arms, cuddling close to your stomach and closing his eyes. You don’t protest, heart warming sweetly as the boy snuggles close. He doesn’t usually cuddle like this, so you’ll take every opportunity to hug him as you can. 

“Dad said you’re feeling bad,” he mumbles into the stuffed dog now pressed between you. “‘M gonna make you feel better. Like you do when I’m sick.” 

You smile. Heart full, your eyes slide shut as you lean forward to press a gentle kiss to the tired boy’s forehead. He mumbles something else, but he’s fading fast. Soon he’s lost to slumber, and he snoozes peacefully in your embrace. 

“Thank you, Megumi,” you whisper as you press another soft kiss to your son’s forehead. Looking up at Satoru with tears brimming in your eyes, you find the white-haired sorcerer is already looking at you. There’s fondness spilling from his smile and a sweet gentleness in his expression, and he looks utterly lovesick. 

“Hey,” Satoru murmurs. 

“Hi.” 

The Six Eyes user steps away for a moment, nodding at Suguru who whispers that he’s going to step out to get you water and your medicine. Satoru knows he’s also going to check in on the girls, so he gives Suguru a smile and a peck on the cheek as he slides around the bed to your back. 

When Satoru climbs into the silken sheets, he immediately presses his bare chest into your back and wraps his strong arms around you and his son. Pressing his soft lips to the nape of your neck, he pulls you and Megumi into his chest as he relaxes. You feel the familiar tingle of Infinity wrap around you and smile tiredly. Satoru is always protecting you and your family. The technique easily wraps around you and Megumi in addition to Satoru, and you know the sorcerer will easily adapt it to cover Suguru soon too. 

That’s just Satoru; he’s always looking out for his family. 

When you sigh deeply and snuggle back into your husband, Satoru presses another gentle kiss to your neck and you feel him shake. 

“Toru?”

The man shivers again, and when you shift, turning slightly to see his face, your face crumples as you find tears leaking from Satoru’s eyes. He looks utterly relieved, but his mouth still twitches in a sad sort of way and his sky-blue eyes shimmer with salty tears. For all his silly teasing and childlike humor, Satoru rarely looks so… scared. He’s always so strong – the strongest. But there are truly rare circumstances in which Gojo Satoru is confronted with true fear. 

Circumstances in which he remembers how vulnerable his family can be. 

“Oh, Satoru…”

Satoru buries his face in your neck again, concealing his tears as he calms down. 

“I was so worried, baby. Oh my God,” he mutters into your skin. “I woke up and you were on the floor and Sugu was crying…” 

You pull his hands tighter around you, careful not to wake Megumi. Stroking gentle circles into the muscle of his forearms, you coo a soft sound to soothe him. 

“‘M alright now. Just a little bit of pain, it’s mostly gone.”

Satoru nods, clinging to your back as he finally grounds himself through the gentle touch of your fingers on his skin. He pulls you closer, seeming as though he’s trying to fuse his body to yours with how tight he binds himself to you. It’s the soft contact of your skin against his that soothes the beat of his heart and loosens the tension of his muscles. The tingly feeling that lingers on his skin where you press into him leaves trails of prickled nerves in their wake, as if physical contact between your bare skin incites a biological reaction beneath his flesh. 

With you in his arms, tightly wrapped in his embrace where he can feel the pulse of your heart against his chest, Satoru finds serenity. 

You’re here. And you’re safe. 

Satoru chews on his lip as he sighs. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers, tucking his chin into your neck and dropping a hand to rub his palm over the side of your stomach. It’s uncanny, you think, that he already knows exactly where it hurts without you mentioning it. Satoru pays far more attention than people give him credit for. “I’m sorry I can’t do anything more to take it away.” 

You shake your head, fatigued eyes closing as you focus on the feeling of Satoru’s big hands and the gentle circles he massages into you. 

Satoru continues in a voice uncharacteristically weak for the Strongest. 

“You were… alone and in pain,” he mumbles, guilt seeping into his tone as he frowns. “And I didn’t even know – we didn’t.” 

Satoru carefully pulls your hair away from your neck to press a kiss to your bare shoulder and then one more against the skin of your throat. He inhales a wave of your familiar scent and flutters his eyes closed as he sinks into your back. 

“I don’t want you to suffer alone, my love.” 

You stroke a contemplative finger over his arm, humming quietly as you shift Megumi in your arms. 

“Okay, Toru,” you whisper as you find the mirth in your exhausted figure to tease him. “You want me to wake you up at the ass crack of dawn when I’ve got cramps?” 

Satoru muffles a small chuckle into your neck and you enjoy the feeling of his chest shaking with the feeling. 

“Yeah, baby. Even then. Especially then.” 

You huff a breath of laughter through your nose, only stopping when you swiftly inhale as another cramp seizes your abdomen. It’s strong, but nothing like the ones you were having earlier. You can manage these. Satoru leans up on his elbow when you stiffen, lifting his other hand to check the hot water bottle Suguru had returned to your stomach. 

When Satoru pulls the bottle away, his brow furrows and he hisses when he finds faint hints of inflamed skin where you’ve pressed it too tight to your belly. It’s too hot and too close, he realizes. It’s burning you. 

Satoru nearly sits upright quickly, his frame leaning over yours as he gasps faintly. 

“Honey…” He’s on the verge of scolding you, but he sees the way you wince through another cramp and decides against it. Satoru looks back down at the hot water bottle and the way you clutch it tightly to combat the waves of throbbing in your belly. 

“This is burning you,” he states it obviously. 

“Hmm,” you respond in agreement. “Feels nice.” 

Satory looks down at you with pain in his features, face twisted into a frown and his crystalline eyes a shade duller. 

“Baby, it’s hurting you – How can…?” 

Satoru trails off. He thinks about how terribly you must have been aching to continue pressing something that was burning you into your skin. How agonizing were your cramps that the pain of the burn was comforting? 

Satoru lays back down, a frown on his lips as he wraps his arm back around you and lays his palm over the hot water bottle. If you’re going to keep it pressed into your skin, then he can make sure it doesn’t get too warm by leaving his hand against it.

“My god, baby… I’m so sorry,” he whispers. He can’t even comprehend how agonizing this must be for you. Satoru kisses your nape again. He apologizes again, and you almost miss the silly Satoru who would typically be teasing you right now. “I’m sorry I can’t do anything.” 

You yawn, finally feeling exhaustion begin to drag you beneath the slow, rocking waves of slumber. Pushing yourself deeper into your husband’s embrace and squeezing your son tight once more, you sigh out a few more words before you finally sink into sleep’s warm hands. 

“You are doing something,” you murmur, pulling his hand up to your mouth to kiss it tiredly. “You’re here, Satoru. I don’t think I can do this alone anymore.” 

When Suguru climbs back into bed on Megumi’s other side, he kisses the fond smile on Satoru’s lips and teases his partner about the stars in his eyes. The crystalline-eyed sorcerer refutes Suguru’s quip by reaching out to gently slap his bicep, but it’s all in mirthful adoration. Suguru leans over to press a tender kiss to your sleeping brow and then one to his son’s, before he settles behind Megumi and sighs contentedly. 

“She’s sleeping?” Suguru whispers, voice barely carried through the quiet night. He stares down at your face, the peaceful expression on your lips far more comforting than the limp, placid look of unconsciousness he remembers. Satoru watches his husband watch you, adoration swelling in his heart like an ebbing tide. Unbound by all but the moon, Satoru swears his heart only grows fonder each time he truly takes in his partners. 

“She’s sleeping,” he confirms sleepily, still staring up at Suguru with warmth in his chest. 

“Good.” 

Suguru’s response is sighed out thankfully, his shoulders deflating with the tension easing away from his muscle. He wraps his arms around Megumi and pulls himself closer to the boy, smiling when he easily cuddles into his father. Not often does Suguru have the opportunity to snuggle his son, so he eagerly grins as Megumi’s sleeping form curls near. 

“She’s early,” Satoru mentions plainly from across Suguru. “She wasn’t supposed to start until next week.”

The dark-haired sorcerer nods, recalling the date he marked in his phone. He and Satoru both kept track; it was easier that way. At this point, though, Suguru is certain he doesn't need his calendar to know these things. Your anniversary is ingrained in his memory, as is every one of your important dates. The three of you have spent more than a decade together, this kind of instinct was certain to develop at some point or another. 

“Yeah,” Suguru sighs. He twists slowly to glance tiredly at the clock on his bedside. “She took some painkillers at midnight, can you write that down? If she wakes again she can take some more.” 

Satoru nods, a hand already reaching for his phone on the nightstand behind him. It was second-nature to jot down the time you took medication. You always tried to keep track yourself, but sometimes noting the time slipped your mind, and you were left trying to recall the last time you took them. Satoru easily adds the time to his notes, and marks the date in his calendar to adjust your future schedule later. He checks that there’s still a bottle of your preferred painkiller in his nightstand drawer and a granola bar to eat when you take them. 

When he sets the phone down, he looks back over at Suguru, who sleepily stares down at your sleeping face. Nothing seems out of the ordinary, but Satoru can see where Suguru has slid his around yours, pressing two of his fingers into the pulse point of your wrist. 

He’s counting your heartbeats – making sure you’re still breathing. Because Suguru remembers the way you crumpled all too clearly. 

Sighing a shaking breath as he familiarizes himself with the gentle thump of your lifeline, Satoru slides a hand around you and his son, and he lays it across his lover with a sad smile. Suguru looks up with tired eyes, the dark bags beneath his lashes barely visible in the night hour. They match the ones beneath your eyes and probably Satoru’s too. 

“Hey,” Satoru mumbles. “She’s alright, Sugu.” 

Suguru nods, finally sinking into the mattress and pressing a final kiss to Megumi’s hair as he makes himself comfortable. Satoru does the same, delicately squeezing the hand still wrapped around yours and cradled sweetly at your chest. 

“We’re alright,” Suguru confirms, eyes finally sinking closed as he falls back asleep with part of his family in his embrace. “We’re alright.” 

In the morning, you awake to two Divine Dogs guarding the foot of your bed. The white one sits with its side pressed against the dark one, and both face the bedroom door. You awake alone in bed, but you can hear distant voices quietly chatting in the hall. The little pups’ ears are perked upwards, diligently listening to the conversation outside. 

When you sit up, the white one flips his head over his shoulder, happily sticking his tongue out in a joyful expression. He pants and his tail thumps against the floor as you beckon him closer. 

“Good morning, pup,” you laugh as it wiggles excitedly when you scratch behind his ears. The dark-coated one quickly follows soon after, eagerly joining his brother for scratches. “What are you two doin’ here?” 

The pups tilt their heads with that silly, tongue-out expression, as if communicating their eagerness. You stifle your laughter and carefully stand from the sheets, making your way into the kitchen with the dogs on your heels. 

When you enter the living space, you find Suguru on the couch with the twins on either side of his lap. They’re eagerly leaning over one of Suguru’s books, excitedly murmuring amongst themselves as their father reads aloud. It’s one of his novels, and you chuckle knowing that the girls were probably the ones to pick it out for him to read. 

Tsumiki is at the table, leaning over some kind of puzzle, and her brother is at her side. She looks up as you come in, offering you a gentle smile and a nod before she goes back to her puzzle. Megumi sits on his knees in the chair, spiky hair unkempt as always and a look of concentration on his face. 

Before you can speak, Satoru is pressed against your back, greeting you with a gentle hum.

“G’morning, sweetheart,” he coos, pecking your cheek and sliding a croissant into your hands and holding a glass of water in his other. “Eat up. You can take some medicine when you’re done.” 

He always makes sure you eat before you take your medicine. Your heart thumps happily beneath your ribs, and you smile in return, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips and thanking him. 

“Thanks, love.” 

Satoru hums and slides his free hand over your waist to squeeze your hip. He opens his mouth to say something, but the twins interrupt him. They gasp, standing from Suguru’s lap and eagerly racing over to greet you. 

Suguru chuckles, but still gently chides them as they race into the kitchen. 

“Careful!” 

Nanako and Mimiko crash into your hips with eager sounds, each grabbing you around the waist and crying out.

“Mama!” They cry worriedly, scrambling to hug you as they bury their faces in your legs. They start pushing you towards the couch with little hands, earnestly murmuring things you cannot make out. You look up at Satoru with a confused furrow of your brow, and your husband only chuckles and holds his hands up in a gesture of ‘i’ve got nothing to do with this.’ 

When you reach the couch, the girls scramble to make you sit beside Suguru, who is all too eager to wrap an arm around your shoulders to accommodate your arrival. 

“Good morning,” he hums as he pecks your temple. 

Nanako is already sliding a blanket into your lap as Mimiko climbs onto the couch, depositing herself at your side and snuggling into you. 

“Good morning,” you respond, watching with a fond smile as the girls make themselves comfortable in your lap. “What’s all this?” 

Suguru chuckles, reaching out to gently ruffle Nanako’s hair as she smiles. The girl looks up at her father with a beaming grin and snuggles closer to you when you wrap an arm around her to keep her stable. Your husband leans closer with a smile, murmuring quietly for only you to hear. 

“Megumi told them you were sick last night,” he fondly whispers. “I think it worried them.” 

Your head tilts in an expression of tenderness, and you give Suguru a knowing look before you lean down to kiss both your girls on the forehead. 

“Good morning, girls,” you rumble happily. “I’m alright, sweethearts. Megumi and your dads took very good care of me.”

Mimiko wiggles closer, snuggling into you and her sister with big, worried eyes. 

“Really?” her tiny voice murmurs. “Megumi-nii said you were hurting.” 

You can almost hear the pout in her voice without looking down at her. Giggling happily, you stroke a hand over her head and squeeze her close. 

“He even brought out his puppies!” Nanako quickly adds, squirming as he attempts to find the two Divine Dogs. “He said we couldn’t come in to see you because you needed to rest.” 

The two Shikigami have already returned to their owner, sitting on either side of Megumi’s chair with wagging tails and their tongues still sticking out. The boy is absentmindedly petting one while he focuses on the puzzle, shyly avoiding your gaze as if embarrassed. 

Your heart clenches sweetly again, and you turn to look at Satoru with a knowing smile. The sorcerer returns the look as he steps into the kitchen for your painkillers, ruffling Megumi’s hair as he goes. The boy lets out a muffled sound of discontent, but he doesn’t fix his messy strands. 

“Did he? That’s very sweet of him.” 

You and Suguru do not mention the faint pinkness of Megumi’s round cheeks. 

When you lean into Suguru’s side, the croissant in your hand warm like your lover’s body heat, you sigh happily. The cramps are a faint memory now, even though you know they’ll return soon. For now, you can savor the warmth of your family. 

“You’re taking the day off then, I suppose,” you look up at Suguru with an arched brow. Suguru smiles, leaning his head into yours to rest there. 

“Yeah,” he sighs, cuddling close to you and the twins. “We all are.” 

You suppose you can deal with the consequences of their unscheduled departure from work and school later… You’re far too warm and content now. When Satoru returns, sliding a glass of water into your empty hand and two painkillers into your other, he patiently waits as you take the pills. Then he sets the glass on the side table beside the mug of raspberry leaf tea he brewed for your cramps,  and then he eagerly dives into the limited space left on the couch. 

Scrambling into the twins’ space, Nanako and Mimiko giggle happily as Satoru presses kisses over their faces and squirms onto the couch. He plops Mimiko into his lap so he can sit at your side, laughing when the girls squeal happily. As you settle, you see Megumi look up from the table, shyly glancing away from his sister. Tsumiki gives him a knowing look as she climbs from her chair and eagerly walks over to Suguru. 

Suguru is too happy to allow her the tiny portion of space on his other side, and Tsumiki slides onto the couch, her side pressed tight to Suguru’s. She offers you a good morning and laughs when the twins attempt to squirm away from Satoru’s tickling fingers. 

Eventually Megumi stands from his place at the table, looking over at the couch as he debates something internally. A moment later, he stands in front of Suguru, shyly shifting on his feet as he looks at the only empty space on the couch. 

Megumi doesn’t need to say anything, because Suguru is already lifting the boy into his lap with a smile. Saving his son the embarrassment of shyly asking for the affection he usually avoids, Suguru chuckles as he deposits the last member of his family into his lap. 

“We could all use a day off,” he murmurs into your temple as he kisses you sweetly. 

You sigh happily, soaking in the warmth of the morning sun and the laughter of your family. 

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” 

The moment is only interrupted when Megumi’s Divine Dogs, only pups at this age, launch themselves onto the couch, eager to join the snuggles. The seven of you dissolve into laughter as you try to maneuver the excited puppies, and you can’t ask for anything else. 

“Megumi!” You laugh, trying to brush white dog hair from your face. “Control your summons!” 

The boy only laughs happily as the dark-coated puppy wiggles into his lap. 

No, he doesn’t think he will. 

bonus:

gojo, looking down at reader and geto: you're so cute and pretty

reader, sleepily: I could beat the shit out of you

geto, nodding along: she could

gojo, lovingly: I know

a/n: no I am not back to writing just yet :')) I wrote this in a pain induced haze while having some terrible cramps so if you have terrible periods like me, this one is for you! this is purely based on my experience with cramps, and everyone is different, but I just wanted to write something for me :") I've never passed out but I've felt like it and I know it's super scary so I hope this can provide some comfort for you if you need it <3

ALSO this was written as comfort for jjk 236 :'))) bc everyone in this fic deserved better and I refuse to acknowledge canon

sugardaddy!satoru who buys you the most expensive items, from designer bags, expensive jewellery and even some cars. and he only asks for one thing in return; your body.

sugardaddy!satoru who wants you on your back, arms wrapped around his strong shoulders, digging your nails (which he bought) into his back, painting deep red marks down his skin. your legs wrapped around his waist as his cock sinks deep into you, sitting in your warm cunt for a bit while he exhales.

sugardaddy!satoru who wants your back arched while his rough hands travel along your arse, pinching slightly at the soft skin. he wants your head shoved deep into the pillow as he pulls his cock in and out of you with a punishing pace. a rim of cum appearing around his dick as he thrusts deep inside of you!

sugardaddy!satoru who needs you sucking on his fat length, his tip stabs at the back of your throat when you take him whole, nose pressed against his sweaty hot skin. his head thrown back while his hand is firmly holding onto your hair, pushing you down slightly - making you gag on his leaky length ><

sugardaddy!satoru who also buys you the most expensive toys, a but plug with jewels and large dildos, he loves you get you extreme stuff too! like vibrating dildos with extra parts for clit stimulation and to go into your small arsehole!

he buys you basically whatever you wanna get though! he suggests the sex toys but you always say yes. there's one thing you said no too and you never here the end of it. a collar.

not a choker or a necklace. a collar, like one a dog would use.

sugardaddy!satoru who wants a cute frilly collar wrapped around your neck at all times - not even just during sex, all the time. he wants the collar with a small dangly bit, metal engraved to say 'satorus baby'

i mean how embarrassing is that!!

sugardaddy!satoru who punishes you and puts you on a spending ban after the fifth time you said no! you huff and huff but he doesn't give you any money :c

sugardaddy!satoru who secretly buys you it and wraps it around your neck one time your too fucked out to think.

"look at thattt, see? now everyone will know who you belong too." the white haired man practically gleamed.

All Bark, No Bite?

WARNINGS: MINORS DNI. NSFW CONTENT.

A/N: Mostly smut. ~4500 words. Strawhat reader (afab) x Ace, who is visiting the ship for a while. When Ace finds someone who can match his banter, what goes down? ( ´ ω ` )

CW: dirty talk, fingering, P in V, prone bone.

All Bark, No Bite?

The flirtation with Ace had been getting ridiculous recently. You’d both been dancing around the idea of fucking each other senseless for weeks. Part of the fun was the teasing—Ace felt like he was going to explode any time he saw you, and his presence stoked a fire in your core any time he was around. The banter itself was enough to make him hard and you wet, respectively. And sure, you’d make out a couple of times, he’d gotten handsy (with your eager consent), he even fingered you once—but these events happened once every blue moon, and your brief trysts never got past that threshold.

At one point the suggestive back-and-forth and lingering touches transformed into shameless horniness. Any chance he’d get, Ace would make you blush, whisper sweet nothings in your ear, and then he’d turn around and talk about how he was going to fuck you into oblivion someday. You were counting down the hours until the perfect moment presented itself, and, of course, it did.

You shot Ace one too many lust-filled glances one night, and he couldn’t hold back anymore. You were wearing the shorts that you knew drove him rabid, so short that he got a tiny peek of your ass cheeks (Sanji loved the shorts too, coincidentally). Combined with your tank top and the shape of your breasts more visible because you weren’t wearing a bra… Ace could feel himself going feral.

He was sitting next to you at the dinner table, while the rest of the crew was rowdily laughing at Luffy almost choking on a chicken bone because he had scarfed it down too fast. Leaning to the side, Ace murmured something your ear. At the same time, his hand crept under the table and squeezed your thigh.

His comment wasn’t completely out of left field—earlier that night, he complimented your shorts, and you responded something along the lines of “Oh yeah? Wanna see more?” He had rolled his eyes at you in the moment, saying (sarcastically) “mmmhmm, sure” but afterwards he was shaking his head and laughing at himself over how viscerally down bad he was for you.

So, when he leaned over and whispered the following comment in your ear, you giggled. “How much you wanna bet that I’ll fuck you better than anyone has before?”

Now you were the one rolling your eyes. “Fat chance, Ace. In your dreams.”

“What, you don’t want to?” He feigned surprise and hurt, keeping his voice low and hushed.

You gave him an annoyed look and cocked your head slightly. He knew you wanted to. It was fucking obvious.

“It’s not that I don’t want to, Ace, it’s just that I think you’re all bark and no bite. Best dick I’ve ever had? Yeah right.”

A grin took over his face, nose scrunching up just slightly, those adorable freckles winking at you. “You want to find out?”

“I know you want to.”

Ace got up without a word and went to wash his now empty plate. You were puzzled at the lack of response, staring at his back, annoyed, until he turned and flicked his chin in the direction of the hallway. Message received. He put his plate on the drying rack and then sauntered down the hallway in question, disappearing as he turned a corner.

You got up and took care of your plate, following in Ace’s footsteps from a couple minutes before. As you left the dining area you sent Robin and Nami a small wave. Robin smiled and Nami gave you a wink. They knew they would hear every detail later.

When you walked down the hallway, you figured Ace would either be in your cabin or his (guest) cabin. Your door was open, light on just how you left it, Ace he was nowhere to be seen. So, he must be in his own cabin. But as you approached, you could see that his door was ajar, and it was pitch black inside. When you reached the room, you cracked the door some more and peered in. “Ace? Where the fu—”

Mid-question, a hand reached out of the darkness and grabbed your wrist, pulling you. You couldn’t see anything—the shutter on the room’s porthole was pulled shut, the light turned off. The only thing you could feel as you groped around in the dark was Ace’s hand on your wrist, which pulled you closer to what you assumed was the bed. You could hear the muted sounds of blankets rustling in front of you. He let go of your hand.

“C’mere.” His playful voice was a couple feet in front of you.

“I’m trying to, but I can’t fucking see anything!” You snapped, fumbling around in front of you until your foot hit his and you toppled over. He caught you by your waist and guided you down to straddle his lap.

“If you would have waited a minute, I would have given you a light.” He flashed a finger, a small flame burning on the tip. You saw his gorgeous smile just barely before he extinguished it. As his grip grew tighter on your waist, he purred, his face centimeters away from yours. “I want you.”

“I know you do, Ace” you laughed at him. He knew you well enough by now that he could hear you smiling through your voice.

“Please.” His voice was so sweet and pleading, veiled notes of desire behind his honeyed tone.

Leaning forward, you gave into a temptation that you knew would only lead somewhere hot and steamy (and you had no problem with that). It had been far too long since you locked lips.

You’d never get over how soft his lips were and how good of a kisser he was. While the jury was still out on whether or not he fucked you better than anyone else, you knew for a fact that he kissed you better than anyone else.

The kisses started out tame, but you could tell how badly he wanted more. You cupped the side of his face with one hand and threw your other arm around his neck, pressing your body into his. Ace’s hands around your waist crept down and grabbed two handfuls of your ass—extremely accessible through those short shorts. You could feel his half-chub forming in his shorts, starting to press onto the denim that covered your crotch.

Ace’s tongue parted your lips and explored your mouth. Your fingers tangled in his dark hair and you could feel his erection, fully hard now, starting to slowly grind up into you. He was letting out puffs of air into your mouth, hands kneading your ass, pulling on it. You moved your hands from the nape of his neck and reached for the hem of your tank top. When you peeled it off, you threw it across the room.

Ace was about to start massaging your bare breasts, but you shoved his shoulders so forcefully he fell back onto the covers.

“Feeling feisty, aren’t we?” Ace’s smirk was almost as audible as the smug chuckle he let out.

“Don’t move.” You got off his lap and shimmed out of your shorts and panties. When you had freed yourself of them, you leaned forward to tug on Ace’s shorts and the waistband of his boxer briefs; he helped speed the process along, and pulled off his shirt while he was at it.

Climbing back on the bed, you straddled Ace, cowgirl style, as he watched you from below. You felt like he deserved to get teased a bit, since he had such a big mouth and cock. Adjusting so his cock was laying flat on your lips, you started rubbing up and down it, bare pussy grinding on his shaft. At the same time, you braced yourself on his abdomen with your palms. You used his washboard abs for leverage, to adjust how hard or soft you grinded into him. Ace’s hands alternated between squishing handfuls of your ass to gripping your hips tightly.

Ace took one of his fingers and held it before you, a small flame dancing on his fingertip again. The light cast red tones and shadows on your body—he felt a sense of reverence as he watched you grind on him, head thrown back, like you were something holy, some work of art ripped from the frame of a renaissance painting or a sculpture from classical antiquity brought to life. Your hair, your curves, the way you braced yourself on him, the way your hips rolled ever so slightly to elicit the most pleasure from him… he was in denial about how intensely and ardently he liked you. He was obsessed with you, entranced by you, he couldn’t get you out of his head ever since he started spending time on the ship. Your flirting sessions and the occasional horny tryst were killing him inside because all he wanted was to be close to you. Sure, he wanted to fuck your brains out, but the feeling he got while he admired you in that muted light was something akin to awe. The moment felt surreal. He extinguished the flame.

“Princess, I won’t be able to take much more of that.” His voice was strained.

“I’m just getting started, Ace, sheesh. Don’t get too excited already, big boy.”

The feeling of your clit rubbing up and down, snagging on the head of his cock sent ripples of pleasure through both of you. It was so easy to get off when Ace was underneath you, like putty in your hands. He was trying to keep his groans back, trying to push them down in his throat; he didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of knowing he was enveloped in pleasure after less than five minutes of this. But the precum was already leaking out of him, a fact that did not escape you as you grinded your core on his shaft.

“Fuck, baby, you’re killing me.” He croaked, his voice was almost hoarse. He wanted to fuck you immediately—either that, or he’d need to finger you or eat you out, ASAP. He couldn’t take five more minutes of this. He was going to cum soon if you kept it up, and if he came before he even got the chance to fuck you, he knew he’d never live it down.

“Oh, you’re falling apart already Ace? Weren’t you just saying you’d fuck me better than anyone I’ve ever been with?” Your tone was scornful, but you knew he’d get off on that. He loved any sort of sass or brattiness, he liked whining and begging, too, and his heart went crazy inside any time you made pathetic and pleading puppy-dog eyes at him.

“So, you just want to rub yourself on my cock forever and you won’t even let me fuck you with it?” Ace always returned your sass tenfold. His deep voice was incredulous and almost mocking you, but for some reason it felt like he was doting on you.

“Mmmmhhmm, Ace, and you’re just going to have to deal with that.”

He finally let out a groan. It was feeling dangerously good. Concerningly good. The slick oozing out of you and coating his shaft wasn’t making things any easier.

Ace squeezed his eyes shut and tried to control his breathing in an attempt to fend off the mounting desire-filled craze that was about to overtake him.

“You’ve got about thirty seconds left before I fuck you senseless, darling.” He practically growled at you—his voice sounded different; more desperate, deeper, and gruff.

You quipped back scathingly with a laugh, continuing to glide back and forth on his cock leisurely. “Ace, you’ll cum from me humping your dick before you even get the chance. I’d like to see you try.”

In a split second, everything changed. Because the room was pitch black, the only thing you could go off was the sensation of being thrown around.

Ace grabbed you by the waist and flipped you over, almost knocking the wind out of you. Your stomach was flat on the bed now and Ace was on top of you, his cock throbbing, pressing on your ass. His body was almost completely flush with yours, except he was bracing himself with a hand on either side of your head. His knees were outside of yours, firmly pressing your legs together.

“What was that?” He murmured, close to your ear. “You’d like to see me try?”

You let out a muffled sound, having to pick your head up a bit to be audible amidst the plush covers and blankets. “Yeah, Ace. Try.”

He reached a hand down to push your thighs apart slightly. Combined with you arching your back, he had better access now. He crept his hand down to your core and swiped two fingers through your folds—you were dripping wet, and when his fingers touched your bare folds, your hips bucked inadvertently.

“Now who’s the one gettin’ all worked up, sugar?” He taunted you, repeating his movement down your lips and to your clit a couple more times.

You rolled your eyes, like he could see them. “I’m hardly worked up, Ace. You’ll be able to tell when I am.”

“Oh, is that so?” He teased and slowly inserted his middle finger, his palm coming to rest on your skin. You were so wet that his finger slid in without any resistance. Your walls clenched around him. As he curled his finger and explored your insides, he pressed and roamed, trying to find your sensitive spot.

Now, you were the one trying to stifle your own sounds of pleasure. You feared that you were the one who was all bark and no bite—if his mere finger felt this good inside of you, who knows what it’d feel like when his cock was buried as deep as it could get.

Sure enough, Ace found your g-spot quickly and started relentlessly applying pressure. Your hips jerked up every time he pressed it, and you started to feel so good that your sighs and muffled groans were turning into full-blown mewls. You were one good g-spot press away from moaning his name with reckless abandon.

Based on the way you were squirming and clenching around his finger, Ace could tell that he could make you cum within a couple minutes if he kept going. He was painfully aroused; his cock was aching for friction. He wanted you so bad that it hurt.

He took his finger out and leaned down more, pressing his chest on your back, positioning his cock right at your entrance. He ran his tip up and down through your folds, rubbing it on your clit for a second before returning to tease around your slit.

“Fuck, Ace,” you moaned his name for the first time and he felt his heart stop. “I want it.”

He felt like being a dick. Now that you were under him, sopping wet and moaning his name, he wanted to take his turn playing the part of the bratty tease.

“What was that, pretty? Couldn’t hear you.”

“Fuck,” you groaned in frustration. He was going to drive you insane if he didn’t put his cock in soon. You were dying for it. “Ace, I want you. Now. Please.”

That was all he needed to hear before he started to press his tip through your folds and into your cunt. He was stretching you out and it felt so damn good. Your walls shuddered around him and his cock twitched in response. When he bottomed out, his chest was pressed directly onto your back, weighing you down so much that it was difficult to catch a breath. Ace's weight, his cock, and the feeling of him breathing on your neck all constituted an overwhelming sensation. In that moment, you would have done anything he told you to.

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” Ace rasped in your ear, sending goosebumps all over your body. He held still for a moment to feel you pulse around him and listen to your heartbeat below him.

“Ace, move,” you whined. You tried to move your hips up and down, desperate for him to start bringing his cock in and out. You were growing impatient. You could only handle so much teasing before you would start begging pitifully.

Ace obliged your entreaty, dragging his cock out of you slowly and then plunging it back in forcefully. He angled his hips down, getting the deepest possible angle that he could. His body was caging you in, hips pressing into yours. The weight of his body and the angle made you feel tighter and made his cock feel bigger than it already was.

He pulled out again slowly and plunged back in, hard and deep. You yelped and it turned into a moan. “Ace, fuck.”

“Nngghhhh, fuck, Y/N, your pussy is so tight.”

“You—already—said—that,” you struggled to spit out each word as he fucked you.

“I’ll say it as many times as I want,” he smirked in your ear and plunged into you particularly rough. Filthy sounds of pleasure left your mouth as a response. He was fucking you so well that you were beginning to lose touch with reality.

“Do you like that? Do you like when I fuck you like this, sweetheart?” His sugar-coated voice and the pet name went straight to your pussy. Every time he called you one of those adoring names he could feel your cunt pulse around him—your body was telling on you, letting him know how much you liked those affectionate names, even though you would never tell him how much they made your heart flutter.

“Gonna fuck you ‘till you can’t even talk,” he grunted between each word, pulling out slowly and fucking into you franticly the whole time.

You moaned into the sheets in front of you, grabbing handfuls of them and balling them up into your fists. The dirty talk continued from Ace as he got continuously more riled up. He knew you loved it.

“So wet for me, sweetheart,” his voice was rumbling from his chest and into your ear—you could feel it vibrate on your back as he thrusted into you. “Taking it so well. Taking it all for me. So fuckin’ hot.”

As Ace fucked you harder and deeper, he targeted your g-spot, drawing more pleasure from your already dripping cunt. He felt hot and stiff inside of you, and every time his tip and shaft pressed your sensitive spot like it was a button. Your toes curled in ecstasy and your thighs clamped closer together. Each progressive clamp of your thighs let Ace go deeper.

“Tell me how much you like it, baby,” he cooed, breath hot on your ear.

You didn’t know if you’d be able to squawk out a coherent sentence. But you were going to try, or else he would have something else to smirk over.

“F-feels so—so good, Ace, feels like—” your words got caught in your throat and turned into a sort of strangled moan, a noise so primal it made Ace feel like he was going crazy.

“My cock feels so good you can’t even talk? You like it that much?”

You clumsily attempted a nod, stopped by all the covers you were currently getting fucked into. A mewl would have to suffice.

“Aceee, fuck,” the noises were muffled, but Ace knew exactly what you were saying. It fueled him, goaded him into fucking you harder. He wanted you to melt in his touch completely, wanted your eyes to roll back into your head in pleasure. He wondered how good it would feel when you screamed his name and came on his cock. He was determined to find out.

“Your pussy feels so good on my cock, baby, juuussssttt like that.”

Ace slowed his hips down, exercising every bit of discipline he had to glide his cock in and out as slow as possible. For you, this speed was simply unacceptable. You needed more so badly that you were about to scream for it. Was he trying to edge you?

Right as you were going to feebly attempt to snap at him to fuck you better, you realized that he was leaving a trail of gentle kisses along your shoulder blade. He kissed up to your neck, kissed down your back as far as he could reach in this position, showering you in unexpected affection. It made your heart stop for a moment. Sure, he was cheeky and insolent in most interactions (in a way that you liked), but you always suspected that he really did have a soft spot for you. You could see it in his eyes whenever he spoke to you.

Ace slowed down his panting so he could murmur lightly in your ear, “God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

Vivid shades of pink and red started to spread over your cheeks. One of his hands crept towards yours and came to rest on top of it tenderly. You released your fistful of blankets and he intertwined his fingers through yours.

“So gorgeous it hurts,” his breath tickled your ear. He squeezed your hand, fucking you at a snail’s pace.

Holy shit, was Ace… making love to you? Was he funneling his affection towards you, letting you know how much he deeply cherished you, all while fucking your brains out? It seemed like the answer must be yes. Your heart did a flip.

“Ace,” you keened out, your blush and his adoration going to your head. You lifted and turned your head as much as you could amidst the plush blankets, so he could hear you better. “I want you.”

He squeezed your hand. “I know you do.”

Ace sped up his thrusts again, his grunts and groans filling the room along with your sweet sounds of pleasure and the wet sounds from your cunt. His hips rolled, his weight bore down on you, your gummy walls pulsed around his cock—you were both on the verge of orgasm, holding on for dear life. He desperately wanted to make you cum first. The thin façade of bragging rights aside, he just wanted to make you feel good. He wanted to wrench heaven from your core and see you writhe in pleasure from his touch—he wanted the satisfaction of knowing he did that.

Every pass of his cock in and out of you was mind-blowing. Oblivion was approaching, quickly. His pace was becoming haphazard, messy, and frenzied.

“Ace, Ace, I’m—I’m gonna cum, feels too good,” you whined.

“Go for it, doll, wanna feel you cream on my cock.” His voice was barely going in one ear and out the other; it gravelly and deep, coursing through your veins like blood. But you registered it enough to know that he wanted you to let go for him.

One good thrust later and you were riding the wave of all-encompassing pleasure so intensely that you felt like you were going to pass out. You started to squirm—he had brought you to your peak and pushed you over it, into a free fall of desire and bliss with no end in sight. The pitch black of the room emphasized the maddening euphoria crashing through your body, it coaxed sounds out of your mouth that you’d never heard before, ones you didn’t know you could make.

You moaned Ace’s name on repeat—screamed it, almost, and every time Ace heard that noise grace his ears, the coil inside of him tightened. Feeling you writhe under him, feeling you squeeze the ever-living fuck out of his hand, feeling you arch your back and your walls pulse… It was too much.

The coil inside of him went rigid and snapped. Ace convulsed, jerking his hips and bucking them down into you. “Fuuccckkkk, Y/N, fuck.” Pulling out of you with heaving breath, his cock shot milky white ropes that painted your ass and lower back.

Ace felt like he was floating. He came the hardest he ever experienced—he didn’t know it was possible to cum this explosively or feel this good.

He collapsed onto his side and positioned his body next to yours. Your gasps for air and heartbeats were in sync as you both came back to earth. You laid there for a moment.

Ace lit another tiny flame on his finger and studied your face. Your eyes were closed, mouth hanging open, pressed against the bedsheets. Your cheeks were ruddy, lips just as pretty as he remembered.

A smiled dusted your lips as you opened your eyes, half-lidded, to see him inches away from you. Ace’s eyes reflected the small fire burning in between you, his lips curled into that heart-twisting grin that always gave you butterflies.

He extinguished the flame, reached over, and started to pet your back. His hand moved to smooth down your hair. “Hey gorgeous, how you hangin’ in there?”

“Wow.” You exhaled, breathless. A beat of silence passed. “What was all that about?” You were still smiling, blush creeping up your cheeks, threatening to take over your whole face.

“What do you mean, pumpkin?” His tone was puzzled.

“The lovey-dovey stuff...”

“Oh.” He paused. “Don’t you know how much I like you? I may tease you but I really, really like you.”

“Stop it, Ace. You’re making me blush.”

His hand resumed smoothing your hair. It passed down to cup your cheek. He rubbed a circle on your skin with his thumb.

“What’s so wrong with making you blush?”

You didn’t answer. He leaned over to kiss you. Again, you’d never get over how good his lips felt pressed on yours. Any time they met it was electric.

“One second—let me get you cleaned up sweetheart.” Ace got off the bed, grabbed a towel, and wiped his cum off your back. His touch was soft, treating your body like it was precious. He got back into bed.

“Come over here.” Ace’s voice was tender.

You turned onto your side and scooted closer. He threw an arm over you and held you to his chest. You cozied up to him for a long time. His chin rested on top of your head, you curled into his chest, heard his heartbeat, and felt the weight of his arm squeezing you closer.

After a moment he started to chuckle.

“Ace, what? What are you laughing about?” The sass started to trickle back into your voice.

“So, did I fuck you better than anyone has before? Am I still all bark and no bite?”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes. “I guess you’re all bite.”

“Mmmm, that’s what I thought.” He kissed the top of your head and held you close, with that cocky grin plastered all over his face.

(✿◠‿◠) ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧˚ (*^_^*)

thank u so much for reading!! MAD shoutout to @acesluvrxx for the very detailed, and dare i say magnificent, request!

here's my masterlist, if you're interested!

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

FWB!JJK FICS RECS

words cannot express how much i love the fwb troupe!! literally it has me squealing all the timeee! updating as i find more (suggestions r open) ^.^ mdni, nsfw content

gojo fanatize - screampied pinning and wooing and flirting - ahtsumu gn!reader x gojo - staryukis i hope when the moon goes - namisin gojo satoru x reader - keisins morning after - staryukis fwb gojo - staryukis just friends - greeniegreengreen must be love - y2kuromi rich boy gojo - saetoru fwb gojo thoughts - oh-katsuki fwb gojo - garoujo fwb playboy gojo - septembersummer satoru is feeling possessive and never fails to get his way - strawberrystepmom put a little love on me - nkogneatho blow me (one last kiss) - starmapz bury secerets in my skin - musouie friends with benefits satoru - arminsumi blurred lines - yasu-1234

geto fwb geto - idiotgojo brooklyn baby - tonycries smoke gets in your eyes - natty-whines friends who smash together stay together - tojiswhore-adventurinesslut fwb 2 lovers geto suguru - kentoangel jealous - gabseyoo fwb! getou suguru - bokebelle commonalities - semisgroupie cunning - prelovednikaidou

choso fuck buddy!choso - ivyvenus333 commonalities - semisgroupie

nanami silent confessions - v1x3n

sukuna i'll make you miss me - hiraethwrote

toji fwb! toji (cucking gojo) - nyxronomicon pillow talk - white-poppie

yuuji don't want you like a best friend - gojonanami

megumi fwb megumi - a-pastel-edgelord a letter to my beloved - pengujoon

etc comin back for more - isamoa fwb jjk - garoujo one of your girls - bwere-deactivated20240619 / acrhnoelle she said don't get too attached, but she attached me - rosesaints keep it between us (smau) - gojom0jo

mentioning of death!!

Satoru always had pity for the old. every time he thought about their frail and weak bones, their saggy skin, silver hair and horrendous hearing skills, he can only feel somewhat compassionate for the unfortunate.

it’s not like he himself will ever go through that, that’s what he told himself. he saw his death being something major, grand, and allowing your time spent living catching up to you is the opposite of that. and in most chances, most sorcerers don’t face their fate like that.

you knew this. ever since you first started dating the man he always reminded you to welcome in the angel with long dark wings knocking on your door with a smile, not a slap. always telling you to not allow the roses thrones prick your finger as you placed them on his grave, because they’ll prick your heart the same way.

it’s hard to digest that. it’s hard to not think about it when you while you cuddle up with your now husband, his head peacefully resting on your chest as your fingers combed through such pure hair. your eyes scanned the way his face was buried right next to your heart, pulses syncing.

quickly though, that acknowledgment flutters away the moment something illuminates in your eyes. the sun that peeked through your bedrooms blinds shimmered directly on a piece of hair that didn’t match the rest. silver. it wasn’t like his normal pure white hair, it was silver.

a smile grew on your face when you started ravaging through his head of hair, only welcomed by more and more strands on that exact colour.

for some reason, it makes you think about how much you have to scream his name for him to finally hear you. it makes you think about how more often he complains about his back, how he forces you to massage him and the room is filled with his giggles when you accidentally tickle him.

oh satoru, how silly he is to assume he’d never see the day your under eyes permanently wrinkle from how much he makes you laugh.

you lean down, leaving a tender kiss on the top of his head only to wake him up. his head sleepily shifts up facing you, his chin resting on your chest only to see your golden smile and eyes slightly watered.

“what’s wrong sweetheart?” he slightly shifts, leaving a kiss on your forehead making your smile only grow.

“nothing, go back to sleep silly.”