Acquired Stardust
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Not today Justin
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let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
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Hello!
Welcome to what is essentially a fanfiction dumping ground for my favourite hobby. I love to write Reader Inserts and over the years have developed a bit of an addiction to them.
I write readers that utilise she/her pronouns unless otherwise specified on my posts because that's what I'm comfortable with. It's done for no reason other than that's what I'm most used to writing when it comes to this style.
Request Information
Requests will always be open on this blog but of course, I can't guarantee that I will have time to write them with a specific timeframe. There's plenty of factors but mainly, I travel over 2 months of the year usually and work can sometimes be very annoying.
Inspiration is also fickle so sometimes I can crank out thousands of words a day, other times less so.
Rules:
I'm very light on rules but there are one or two things I won't write about:
Smut/Romance Involving Children or Animals (Obvious, yes, but needs saying)
Pregnancy
I do write headcanons, drabbles, and long-form content in pretty much all formats. Smut, angst, and fluff are all welcome.
If you want something multi-chapter, I cannot accept anon asks. I want to talk it over with you properly to get an idea of what you're looking for in terms of plot and certain scenes.
The Poly Series Stuff:
I write a decent amount of poly stuff and I actually really enjoy doing it but if you're asking something with multiple characters, please specify how you want the relationship to be. Like if you have three other characters, are they also in a relationship with each other or just the reader.
Dividers From Saradika-Graphics
just wanted to tell you that i've been LOVING your fics. they're so good that you got me reading for characters that i've never really read for.
i love reading oneshots and don't really love reading multi-parts fic but the killer 2-part fic was sooo good!!! the build up in the first one was very well done and girl you deliveeereeeed on the second one.
so so good thank for your service
Ah, thank you so much! That is an absolutely amazing compliment! 💙 I'm so happy to hear you enjoy my stories.
And I'm really glad to hear you liked both parts. I was super nervous writing Part 2 of Mindful Indulgence because I loved how the first part came out so much 🫠 So knowing you enjoyed both means a lot to me!
Thank you for the lovely ask 💙 and I hope you have a brilliant day/night!
Ghost In The Machine (Ace x Reader) - Part 10
One Piece | Ace | 4.0k | Masterlist
“Ace?”
“Hm?”
“If you were alive again, what would you most want to do?”
Ace opened his eyes slowly, clearly having been halfway to asleep before you spoke to him; his head rested on your lap and your fingers running through his hair. You tilted your book down to show him the map of islands you’d been looking at.
“There’s an island in here that looks quite nice,” you said. “I was thinking it might be nice to go and visit.”
He tilted his head to see the map better. “Looks fun. I haven’t been anywhere near there so I don’t know if it’s dangerous though.”
“I’d have to check to see.”
“I guess if you go, I’m probably going to join you though,” he laughed.
“Not if you don’t want to.”
He hummed and settled deeper into your lap, nudging your hand with his head to get you to play with his hair again. “If I was alive… there’s plenty of things honestly. I don’t even know where I’d start. One of the biggest ones is probably to visit this island that’s been in trouble for years now and help them get rid of the guy in charge like I promised. It’s a really nice place.”
“Immediately back into danger?” you asked.
“It’s not too dangerous.”
You laughed and shook your head. “You can’t die and immediately start looking for fights again. I was asking more like if there’s a food you’ve always wanted to try or something you’ve always wanted to do.”
“I mean as for doing things…” He raised his eyebrows playfully.
You mussed his hair, unimpressed, in response. “Not that.”
“Right, guess that could work even if I’m dead,” he said with a laugh. “Okay, you know what I really want back? My hat. I miss it so much.”
“The hat on your wanted poster?”
“Yeah! It’s my favourite and I don’t even know what happened to it. They confiscated it when I was handed over.”
You thought about it though you didn’t know nearly enough about the protocols of the marines to even begin guessing. “Maybe I can ask about it,” you said. “That’s an easy enough thing to get for you.”
He grinned at you as though you’d promised him the world itself. As though you were giving him the greatest gift of all in offering him a hat. It warmed your heart enough that you covered his eyes to stop him from making you laugh.
“Stop that.”
“Stop what?”
“Looking as though I’ve already given it to you. You can be happy once I’ve actually found it.”
Ace closed his eyes under your palm, seemingly planning on sleeping again. “I know you’ll get it though. You’re good at these things.”
You moved your hand away from his eyes, smiling down at his peaceful expression.
You should talk to him about your conversation with Sabo from the day before but as much as the Revolutionary Army valued privacy, the library was still communal. The shelves towered overhead, packed so tightly with books that they swallowed sound, but not completely. Somewhere deeper in the room, pages turned.
You and Ace had managed to claim a narrow corner tucked between two shelves and the outer wall, hidden enough that most people wouldn't glance your way twice. Even so, discussing dangerous rituals in a room full of revolutionaries felt like an exceptionally poor idea.
And you hadn’t had the time during the morning or evening given that certain ghosts had been sleeping for most of it.
You were dragged from your thoughts by footsteps against the wood, purposeful and moving toward you.
The woman who walked over wasn't somebody you'd met before but something about her felt familiar. She moved with easy confidence despite the healing cuts scattered across her face and hands. Bruises darkened her skin beneath the sleeves of her clothes, remnants of battles not yet fully faded, yet none of it seemed capable of touching the calm smile she wore.
In your lap, Ace shifted, getting up slowly to see what was going on.
She didn’t hesitate to sit down on the ground across from you, long legs folded. He moved immediately so she didn’t sit through him, settling behind you, between your back and the shelves instead.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said. “I just wanted to introduce myself.”
Her expression was pleasant but something in her gaze felt far too knowing for a random greeting. You smiled gently and extended a hand, offering your name.
“You have the look of a woman who’s heard about me,” you commented.
“I have,” she admitted. “Though I admit, I haven’t been here for very long, I did catch on some interesting conversation. More specifically, I heard that you may have been looking for my captain.”
“Your captain?”
She nodded. “I’m not sure if you still are but I’m Robin. I’ve been with the Straw Hat Pirates for quite some time now.”
Ace shifted closer to you, his knee bumping into your side and the warmth of his chest pressing against your back. “That’s Luffy’s crew,” he said. “What would she be doing here?”
You looked to him and Robin followed your gaze over your shoulder, speaking before you could offer an explanation.
“I heard about your abilities. I apologise if I came off as rude but I must say, I’ve never introduced myself to a ghost before. Certainly not one of such infamy. I discussed you so often with the others, I feel as though we’ve met before.”
Ace perked up when she spoke directly to him, grinning easily. “Really?”
You smiled at her in appreciation for the relaxed nature of her request. “I’m sorry but I’ll have to translate for you. Though he can hear you, you won’t be able to hear him.”
“That’s quite alright, I would love to speak to both of you,” she said. “It’s not every day you get the chance to talk to the dead. Where is he sitting?”
You held your hand up in front of Ace’s face. “Around here.”
He kissed your palm without warning and you startled, grinning when he immediately laughed. “You put your hand there,” he defended.
“He doesn’t move much,” you said. “So if you look in this general direction, you’ll be fine.”
“I don’t have any reason to move,” he said, dropping his chin onto your shoulder. “Does that mean Luffy’s here too?”
“He’s asking if your captain is also here,” you asked.
Robin smiled forlornly and reached for a bag she’d brought with her. Inside, she pulled out a newspaper and handed it over, tapping the front. “Unfortunately, we were separated during a battle on the Sabaody Archipelago. This is the only communication we’ve gotten from him since then.”
You held the article up to Ace, only briefly glancing across it. There was no message in the text itself but Ace pointed at the image.
“Luf doesn’t have a tattoo,” he murmured. “3D2Y?”
“The code on his arm?” you asked.
“It’s a request,” she said. “We were meant to reunite in three days but now, he wishes to change that.”
“To two years?” you asked. “That’s quite the jump.”
She nodded. “Indeed. I wish I could tell you what happened when we were separated or where the others went but truthfully, I don’t know myself. It’s the soonest I think anybody will be able to find him.”
Ace was lounging fully over your shoulders at this point, the weight against your back pushing you forward slightly as flames flickered over your body. “That makes more sense,” he said. “I thought it was weird Luf was alone when I saw him. His crew didn’t seem the kind to leave him alone for that type of fight.”
Robin smiled. “I understand it’s a wait but I hoped I could share something.”
Ace’s hair was tickling your neck and you reached up to brush it away slightly. “Ace is saying this explains things,” you told her. “He says your crew doesn’t seem like you would have separated before a fight.”
“We aren’t,” she agreed. “Not in usual circumstances but it’ll probably be better we reunite when Luffy thinks we’re ready.”
“At least this means he’s safe,” Ace said. “Maybe he took off with Shanks?”
You didn’t know but you nodded and gave the newspaper back to Robin. “Thank you. Two years is a long time but it’s the best we have.”
“Unfortunately, from what I know about your devil fruit, it might be too long,” she said. “To keep a spirit around, that is.”
“What do you mean?” Ace was more awake now, his breath tickling your skin.
You smiled at him. “Normally, I do only manage a few months at most but there are… other options,” you said.
“You’re going to keep me around for that long?” he asked, half-teasing but half-disbelieving. “That’s forever to have me following you everywhere.”
You tried to give him a look but it was hard to turn your head toward him when he was so tightly wrapped around you. Something Robin must have noticed because she looked toward your shoulder and laughed behind her hand.
“You’re quite close,” she said. “Physically, at least. I can see the compression on your shirt.”
Ace snuggled harder into your back as though proving a point and you huffed at how tightly he was holding you. “Advantages of being dead,” he said.
“That’s not the reason I let you do this,” you told him. “But yes, we are.”
Robin smiled. “Then will you be attempting it?”
Oh? You frowned, confused at how bluntly she asked, even though she shouldn’t know anything about that. But she didn’t look as though she meant it in any way other than genuine curiosity, her hands folded neatly in front of her.
“Maybe,” you said, attempting to sound non-committal. “It’s the only way to keep a spirit around more permanently.”
“What’s she talking about?” Ace asked and he sat up properly, allowing you to mourn the warmth briefly before he shuffled around so you could see his face better.
“Something my devil fruit can theoretically do,” you explained.
“Oh, you haven’t discussed it yet?” Robin asked.
“Just not in detail,” you reassured her though this wasn’t really the place to go into those details.
Ace gave you a suspicious look. “Theoretically?”
“I’ve never done it before,” you said. “But I know it has been done twice before to varying degrees of success.”
“More times than that,” Robin said and you turned to her, curious. “Though it wouldn’t be public knowledge. I think I might be able to be of some assistance. When I was younger, I had access to a library filled with knowledge from all parts of the world. Your fruit was often talked about in the pages.”
Excitement thrummed through you at the offer. “Truly?”
She nodded. “I can tell you what I know about how previous users survived the process. Though I warn you, you may wish to have a healer on standby.”
“I was already thinking of such,” you said. “I do have old journals from the previous wielder but what they knew was theoretical. Hearing what knowledge, you have would be incredibly useful.”
“If I can help, I would love to.”
Ace frowned at you. “What do you mean survive?” he repeated. “What are you going to do?”
You’d forgotten for a second in your excitement to share knowledge without having to explain that he would hear only snippets. You could see the fear beginning to settle on his face and you paused. Not the best time but what choice did you have.
“Robin,” you said. “Can we meet up here again later?”
“Of course. I’ll see you then.”
You stood quickly dusting off your clothes before you looked down at Ace. He watched you warily before he followed and you led him back to the room you’d been assigned, shoving the door closed hard behind you before you started.
“I’ll explain,” you said before he could panic. “But I wasn’t hiding it. I made the decision yesterday when we were out.”
“To do what?”
You reached for his hands and he let you take them, expression flicking around rapidly as flames curled from his shoulders. “Do you remember what Dragon said about my awakened devil fruit and how it’s a bit of a sore spot for some people?”
“Yeah.”
You nodded. “See the reason for that is, it gets a sort of single use ability. It’s not flashy or particularly safe but if I’m in a very specific place with a few small items, I can basically trade my devil fruit to reverse the crossing. So, you’d um… be able to come back through it instead.”
For a second, you saw hope in his eyes, rapidly replaced by confusion and panic. His nails bit into the skin of your wrists. “But your fruit isn’t awakened.”
You pressed your lips together in answer and Ace gave you an expression rather like a kicked puppy, his shoulders slumping.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It never really came up,” you said. “And also, it’s not really a thing I should talk about to the dead or the living. I can reverse the path of death once. Spirits who know that who aren’t anywhere near as lovely as you can become quite demanding about it.”
“But she said you could raise your chance of survival. So it’s not just a snap your fingers thing.”
You hesitated before you answered. “There is a chance it doesn’t work.”
There was a horrible, suffocating silence before Ace shook his head. “No.”
“No?” you said.
He yanked his hands out of yours so quickly that it felt like it burned. “No. You’re not dying for me. That’s not happening. I’m not going to let you… no. Don’t do that. Enough people are dead because of me already and you’re not joining them.”
“Ace, it’s only a chance.”
“It’s not worth it. I’m fine with being dead, really. I can just stay with you as a ghost and then we can still be together.”
You winced. “Not forever. Eventually, you’ll be forced to move on and that can badly hurt me too. This is the best option.”
“It’s an option that could kill you!”
“I’m not scared of death. It’s an option that could bring you back. Physically. You could talk to people and eat things without me sending them to you.”
Ace began to pace in front of you. “I don’t… you don’t even know what you’re saying. It’s better that I’m dead.”
“I very much disagree.”
“You’re just saying that.”
“You have two brothers who adore you and would both agree with me too. Your friends, as well, certainly wouldn’t prefer you to stay as a ghost. I thought you wanted to live and if this is your one chance of it, there isn’t a problem.”
He gave you a look. “I know you like me in that way but you don’t even know everything. You don’t know why they wanted me dead to begin with.”
“Because you’re a pirate?”
“Not just that.”
You stepped closer to him to try and smother some of the flames that were roaring on his forearms. He leaned into the touch for a second before he yanked his arm away, not really meeting your eyes.
“There are very few people in this world who are better off dead,” you said.
He ran his hand through his hair, almost pulling at it. “The government would want to kill you too for bringing me back.”
“Fine by me. I’ve been dealing with their crap for years now.”
“Not like this. They'd never leave you alone.”
You shrugged but his words hit a deeper fear than you wanted to acknowledge. You wouldn’t have the ability to hide anymore when your fruit was gone. But it was a worthwhile sacrifice. They were hardly about to send Cipher Pol after you.
“Look, Ace,” you said. “It’s dangerous but I kind of like having you around and I want to keep it that way.”
“Is it because I kissed you?”
You frowned. “What? No? I like you in that way too but that’s not the only reason I’d keep you around.”
“Okay but if you know then you won’t. You’re not as dumb as Luf or… I don’t know, whatever like Sabo.”
“I won’t?”
Ace hesitated, blinking at you with tears brimming at the edges of his eyes. You shook your head and stepped forward, arms sliding around him in a hug. He folded into you with such ease that it felt as though his muscles had turned to feathers; wrapping around you and clutching you closer into his chest.
“What could possibly be this big?” you asked. “That it would stop me from bringing you back.”
He shook his head. “You can’t.”
“I can but if you really think there’s something that bad then you’re going to have to tell me.”
“You can’t hate me,” he said, his voice very low. “You’re the only person who can see me. If you hate me… I don’t want to leave permanently yet.”
“I won’t hate you.” Flames licked along his arms as you tightened your hold, dancing in your peripherals. “Ace please. Just tell me.”
He buried his face into your neck, shoving himself against you as though he wanted to disappear into your body. “No.”
“Ace…”
The flames were starting to get uncomfortably hot. They crawled over his shoulders and jumped to your own, licking along your face and arms. You tightened your grip, not even flinching as the fire spluttered around you. It was starting to hurt but you weren’t letting go yet.
“There’s no secret I would hate you that much for,” you said.
A sudden flare caught the loose ends of your hair. The smell hit first, sharp and foul. You swore softly and slapped at it before the fire could spread, singed strands sticking briefly to your fingers.
“I should have told you,” he said between small hiccups. “I’m sorry. I just knew that if I told you, you wouldn’t have helped me look for Luffy or Marco.”
“I would have.”
The rug beneath your feet sparked alight in a sudden burst of orange. You crushed the flame beneath your boot before it could spread but the damage was already done. Heat rolled through the room in waves, turning the air thick enough to shimmer. Every breath tasted faintly of smoke. Sweat gathered against the back of your neck and your head swam as though the walls had begun to bend around the edges. You shook your head once to try and refocus on him.
“Did you kill somebody?” you asked.
“What?! No?”
The question at least seemed to startle him enough that the flames briefly calmed down, confusion creeping through his anxiety. You ran your nails gently over his shoulders, dodging around the bruises and marks you knew were there to tickle his skin.
“Alright. Did you betray someone?”
“I wouldn’t do that.”
“Then I don’t see what could possibly be this bad.”
He didn’t lift his head, curling tighter around you as though he could disappear into you and stop having this conversation. “You’re not – I don’t – I can’t…”
“What did you do?”
A sharp arch of flame jumped from him and onto your arm, a brief burning sensation. “It’s not something I did,” he said.
That only confused you more. “Then what’s the problem?”
The fire around him crackled, loud and fierce before it suddenly withdrew. The room turned frigid all at once, Ace’s body far too cold against your own.
“Don’t hate me.”
He said it shakily, as though trying to plead and order it into being at the same time.
“I won’t.”
His fingers twisted in the fabric of your shirt once before he straightened, rubbing at his eyes roughly and still refusing to look at you. You ran your hands quickly over the smouldering spots on your clothes.
“You don’t know that,” he muttered.
“Then let me prove it to you.”
He looked at the smoke curling from your shirt for far too long. “I – Do you know Gol D. Roger?”
“The Pirate King?” you said, smothering the burn he’d been staring at. There was a hole in the shirt where heat had devoured the fabric. “What about him?”
Ace didn’t respond immediately. Then, so quietly you almost didn’t hear it, he said, “Well, he’s my father.”
You nodded, waiting for the rest of his sentence but it never came.
Silence dragged out, unbearably heavy between you before he gave you a desperate look. “Say something, please.”
“You can continue,” you said. “I’m listening.”
“What?”
He blinked blankly at you. And you stared back, equally as confused.
Then you sighed and stepped forward. “Ace, I promise whatever it is, it can’t be so bad that I won’t like you anymore.”
“I – what?”
“What?”
“I just told you,” he said, his voice pitched into what you could almost call a whine. “You heard me, right? Gol D. Roger is my father.”
You stared at him. “Yes, and?”
He looked at you as though you’d grown a second head. “You know who he is, don’t you?”
“I mean, I was isolated but not stupid,” you said. “I don’t think there’s anybody in the world who hasn’t heard about him. He’s pretty infamous.”
“Okay? So then you know!”
“That part, sure,” you said. “I mean, I didn’t know he had a kid but if it’s connected to this secret, then okay. Unless… are you implying that the thing that they want you dead for is connected to his treasure?”
He had, at least, stopped crying though you weren’t certain if his confounded expression was any better. You reached out to wipe away some of the residual tears from his face while you waited.
“No, I don’t know anything about that,” he said. “I’ve told you the thing. Who my father is, is the thing.”
But he sounded more confused than upset, as though he was questioning the words himself.
You frowned, your hand still outreached toward him. “I don’t understand.”
“The reason everybody wanted me dead,” he said. “My mother died trying to hide me because of who my father was. Everything that happened, everyone who died… it was all because of his blood.”
“You didn’t even do anything?” you asked. “You thought I was going to hate you and banish you because you happen to be related to somebody?”
And you clearly sounded quite offended because Ace deflated.
“Well, yes?”
You frowned at him and then flicked his shoulder. It couldn’t have possibly hurt but he jumped anyway, looking down at it. “What was that for?”
“Don’t scare me like that!” you said. “Seas, Ace. I thought you were going to say you murdered your brother or something! You set us both on fire and that’s it? You almost gave me a heart attack because I was so worried.”
“You don’t get it?”
“No, I don’t get it,” you countered. “Why would I hate you for that? That’s a really stupid reason to dislike somebody.”
“Other people don’t agree with you.”
“I don’t really care about if other people agree with me. I really hate you being this upset.”
“I’m sorry?” But he sounded more confused than anything.
“No, don’t apologise. You have nothing to apologise for,” you said. “Just like… I wasn’t expecting that. I really don’t care about who your father is.”
“You should.”
“Why?”
Ace opened his mouth and closed it again. You stared at him for a second before you stepped forward, throwing your arms around his waist. Of all the things you’d been imagining… it mattered to him but it wasn’t going to take him from you.
You only realised with your face pressed against his chest that that had been what terrified you about this secret.
He didn’t hug you back for a second, his arms stiffly at his sides. And then, slowly, he brought them up to wrap around you, his breath rough in his chest.
“You really don’t care?”
“No,” you said. “I don’t want to lose you and no offense, but your father really doesn’t change anything about me falling for you.”
“You’re so weird,” he muttered against your hair.
You shook your head. “Not about this. Anybody who dislikes somebody based purely on who they’re related to is pretty fucking weird in my opinion. And that’s coming from somebody who talks to the dead.”
Ace didn’t respond. His arms only tightened around you.
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Kissing the Commanders (Whitebeard Pirates x Reader) - Part 4
One Piece | Marco, Ace, Izou, Thatch | 3.9k | Masterlist
“Have you always looked this troubled with life or is that new?”
You gave Whitebeard a look that had him laughing loudly, proud of his taunt. Your hand still hovered at the door. “It’s new,” you said dryly. “Your children are troublesome.”
He chuckled and took a deep drink from his mug. “That they are but you mustn’t let them get under your skin so much. You give Marco a hard enough time in return.”
“And I’ll keep doing it,” you said with sincerity. “But it’s not him alone this time.”
Whitebeard’s smile didn’t shrink though there was a glint in his gaze that told you he knew far more than you had assumed. “At least he is easy enough to solve if you would want to. Simply speak to him about the reason you’re here.”
“There’s no point,” you said as you gestured to the door. “I could tell him I’m a literal angel descending from the heavens and he’d think it’s code for my plan to run you through in the middle of the night.”
“Ace already tried that method. You can see it didn’t work too well for him.”
You chuckled softly to yourself, still resenting that you had never quite had the opportunity to witness Ace’s attempts. “I don’t believe I would see any different results,” you admitted.
“Likely not,” Whitebeard conceded. “Though I do have a favour to ask. Whatever part of this trouble Thatch is involved in, I need you to fix it. I don’t know what you broke but I can taste the effect it has on dinner.”
You sighed. “I don’t know what I did either but he isn’t keen on telling me.”
“Then figure it out and soon.”
“That sounds almost like a threat,” you said with a half-laugh.
Whitebeard waved a giant hand, smile still in place but his gaze sharp as ever. “Rest assured, it is one. I know you’re responsible for this.”
You were but that didn’t mean you were going to ask the ship’s collective father for assistance in solving it. “I’ll try,” you said with a small laugh. “But I’ve been avoiding the kitchens, you see. I’m trying to not eat my weight in sweets before I leave.”
“Ah then that’s why he’s sulking. Well, at least it’s an easy fix.”
You wished it was. Still, you inclined your head and promised to try your hardest one more time before you left the room, silently praying that the solution would divine itself onto you.
Instead, you got a very moody Marco.
“You definitely wouldn’t be able to actually injure him,” Marco said immediately, having long since dropped the pretence that he didn’t listen in on your conversations. “If Ace couldn’t lay a scratch on him, your own odds are slim.”
“My arms are a little thin for it, aren’t they?” you said. “Maybe I should try poison. I have some connections in the kitchen.”
You shouldn’t be sarcastic with those kinds of things but not even a minute into talking to Marco and you were getting annoyed. You had to antagonise him a little. So far, he was the only person on this ship behaving like normal and you’d like to keep it that way.
It seemed he disagreed though because instead of a retort, his gaze caught on something on your arm. “You walk into something, yoi?”
The verbal tic caught you off-guard enough that you didn’t respond immediately. He’d used that maybe twice before when speaking to you; a clear indication that he overthought just about every interaction he shared with you.
Even in your most heated debates, he rarely slipped into it and it stunned you enough that you just looked toward a small scratch on your upper arm.
“I walked into a crate earlier,” you said slowly. “I didn’t see Haruta carrying it.”
It had bled slightly, the thinnest line of blood running toward your elbow, but it was hardly something to catch the eye.
Marco shook his head. “You can’t look where you’re going?”
Okay, that was better. Less strange of a comment from him. “It’s a scratch.”
“Have you even considered how much time and energy you’d waste if it got infected? We don’t have infinite supplies for clumsiness.”
“Oh my word,” you huffed. “Don’t worry, doc, I don’t plan to waste your resources or die on your ship. Trust me, I’d much rather find somewhere peaceful to croak.”
He pressed his lips into a thin line and then, unexpectedly, reached for you.
You stiffened as blue flame curled over your skin. The heat wasn't hot enough to burn, only warm, sinking into your arm like sunlight through fabric. The scratch disappeared beneath it, the thin line of red fading until there was nothing left at all. Your heart lodged itself somewhere in your throat.
His hand lowered. You stared at him and he stared back, both of you clearly unsure what the appropriate response to that was.
You saved him and yourself from the awkwardness by coughing. “That was an overreaction. It’s not contagious.”
“If it was, I’d imagine Izou might be walking into everything.”
“What does Izou have to do with anything?”
He crossed his arms over his chest, firmly locking them as though he might reach for you again if he stopped paying attention. “He’s been permanently attached to you since yesterday. It’s hardly any kind of secret and I imagine it’s the cause of Ace’s attitude of late.”
“Attitude?” you repeated. “Asking perfectly reasonable questions that you don’t like isn’t having an attitude.”
Marco scoffed. “Are you two behaving as guard dogs for one another now?”
“No. I’m just being a good friend,” you said though the word sounded strange in your head, all things considered. “And not letting you jab at him just because you have a problem with me.”
“Friends? I don’t know how many friends follow each other around and neglect their duties.”
“Actually – ”
“Your co-dependency with Izou does not count either.”
You blinked. Ouch. You couldn’t help but feel that Marco’s comments surrounding Izou in particular had been getting sharper over the past few days. Things that were becoming harder to brush off with a casual shrug and his usual excuse.
His usual paranoia about your intentions had almost faded in exchange for the passive aggressive remarks towards the other commanders.
Maybe he was actually acting strange too. You didn’t like acknowledging that.
“I wasn’t even going to bring up Izou,” you said bluntly. “Though I can see you struggle to understand the concept of enjoying somebody’s company.”
“Hardly. I just don’t pretend that’s all it is.”
“Oh, really? And what is it then?”
He hesitated for a second, as though saying the words would somehow be far worse than just implying it. But honestly, if he was going to accuse you of these things, he should at least say it to your face.
“The entire crew knows what’s happening there,” he said, still not giving you what you wanted. “It’s getting ridiculous to pretend otherwise.”
“The entire crew? I wasn’t aware we were a circus display.”
“If you knew what subtlety was, maybe you could have avoided it.”
You stepped around him, moving toward the door, not quite getting into his space but still hovering. Your voice was lower as you responded, quieter. “Right, you’re one to talk about subtlety. I never notice when you’re brooding and glaring from the corner of the room.”
“That’s because you’re the trigger for it. I’m perfectly fine when you’re not around.”
“Guess I must be pretty bad for your stress levels then.”
“You’re bad for plenty of things on this ship.”
That comment felt less pointed than the other ones though objectively, it should have hurt more. It just didn’t have the same bite to it as the rest had and you breathed out, feeling that this argument was probably going to wind down into something more normal. Something beyond random healing.
You still couldn’t quite get that out of your head.
“Too bad you’re not the captain,” you said. “So, you can’t get rid of me.”
“Oi! Raise the volume back up!” Whitebeard’s voice boomed from his room. “You kids don’t have any idea how hard it is to listen in when you’re whispering!”
You paused, almost laughing at the realisation that he had been listening in. At least you never had to prove that you weren’t imagining Marco’s constant hostility.
“Pops is right,” Marco said after a second where you almost thought you saw him smile. Almost. “You need to talk to Thatch. I’ve already tried but he won’t say anything to me.”
“He won’t speak to me either,” you admitted. “I’ll ask…”
“Izou?” Marco filled in when you trailed off. “I wouldn’t have guessed.”
You wondered if strangling him was even possible.
Instead, you pointedly left and didn’t go speak to Izou because he was probably busy and definitely not because you had a feeling Marco was watching you and you refused to prove him right. That would be ridiculous.
You found the second division busy toward the back of the deck and they didn’t seem to mind too much if you distracted their commander a little.
Some even seemed grateful that he had somebody new to look at his skiff even though you had no idea what the little boat-thing was until he started explaining it, pointing to the different parts as he went about repairing it.
“How did it get so broken?” you asked.
Ace gestured behind him, his tongue a little out of his mouth as he concentrated. “I crashed into the side of the ship.”
“What?”
“I want to make it so that when it goes under the water, it pops up again after a distance,” he explained. “So imagine I’m coming up to a ship, right. If I jump up, I want it to go under and then come back up again so I can land on it.”
“What if you miss and fall in the water?”
He grinned and shrugged. “Guess I just have to make sure I don’t miss. When it’s done, do you want to give it a try?”
“Not even in the slightest,” you said. “That doesn’t look like it could hold two.”
“It probably could.”
You laughed and shifted onto your back across the sun-warmed deck. The wood pressed pleasantly against your shoulders, carrying the lingering heat of the afternoon. Somewhere above, sails snapped softly in the breeze while voices drifted across the ship in scattered bursts of laughter and conversation. The second division moved around you without much concern, stepping over ropes and crates as though you had always belonged there.
“I thought you said you wanted to help,” Ace teased with a broad grin. “But now you’re just lying there.”
“I’m supervising. If you fall in the water, I’ll call for Namur.”
“You’re sunbathing.”
He laughed and basically threw himself down next to you, arms propped behind his head. You turned to look at him slightly and counted the freckles on his cheeks, stark against his sun-warmed skin. He had to know how he looked. Especially given his hatred for shirts.
Beneath you, the Moby Dick creaked softly and for a while, neither of you spoke, just lay there. You almost thought he’d fallen asleep until he suddenly propped himself up.
“Can I kiss you again?”
You laughed, surprised by the suddenness and immediately catching the nerves he was trying very badly to hide beneath casual confidence. It was strangely endearing to hear the uncertainty from someone so fearless in every other aspect of his life.
“Maybe,” you said.
He groaned dramatically. “Aw, that’s not an answer.”
“It’s a maybe,” you said. “As in, I’m thinking about it.”
“What can I do to change it to a yes?”
“Hm…” You tapped a finger against your lip, aware of his gaze lingering on your mouth. “I’ll think about it.”
“You’re evil.”
“I know.”
Your stomach grumbled before you could continue teasing and Ace immediately perked up as though sensing an opportunity. “You’re hungry?”
“I did skip lunch,” you admitted.
“Okay, then I’ll go grab something to eat for you. What do you want?”
It was the perfect opportunity to keep avoiding Thatch and for a second, you genuinely considered asking him. You hadn’t told Whitebeard how fast you’d get the problem solved for him…
But then again, you shouldn’t be avoiding him. It wasn’t really fair.
“It’s alright,” you said. “I wouldn’t want to send you back to the scene of the crime.”
“Oh, it’s fine. I’m sure everybody’s forgotten by now.”
You stood and shook your head. “They definitely haven’t.”
“I’ve got supporters now!” he called after you. “At least three votes for me!”
“Seas, Ace,” you said with a laugh.
You forced yourself to walk fast so your nerves couldn’t catch you before you got to the galley. It was warm in there, welcoming and always smelling faintly like a bakery. Thatch looked up the second you entered, not even a second passing before he smiled at you as though nothing had been wrong at all.
“Well,” he said, glancing briefly toward the clock on the wall. “Look who finally remembered where the kitchen is.”
You smiled despite yourself, stepping through the doorway toward him. “It’s been a busy day.”
“So I’ve heard. You’ve been starting fights with our doctor again and flirting with Ace. Sounds very important.”
“Fighting with Marco is the most important part of my day. It’s like the first cup of coffee in the morning.”
Thatch laughed good-naturedly. It wasn’t the busiest time for the kitchen though a few members of the fourth division moved around the kitchen. They greeted you when they saw you looking, your attention drawn by the smell of garlic and butter.
You stepped closer to Thatch, not fully into his space but enough that you were out of the middle of their path.
“Hungry?”
There was nothing you could steal from him unfortunately. The fish he was filleting was still very much raw. “A little,” you admitted. “I was going to scavenge.”
You always enjoyed watching him work like this with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his forearms flexing. It was a little indulgence you always allowed yourself. And if he’d ever noticed, he never mentioned it.
“You alright there?” he asked suddenly.
You looked up and blinked. “Hm?”
“You’ve been staring at my hands for a concerning amount of time. I’d prefer you not to eat raw fish.”
You huffed and looked away while your cheeks warmed, focusing on his face instead. “I was remembering that your captain talked my ear off today about dinner.”
“Really? Pops looking forward to it?”
You considered telling the truth but Thatch was in a good mood and you weren’t about to ruin that. “He always does.”
Thatch smiled proudly and put his knife down. He moved the fish carcass aside, washed his hands, and gestured for you to follow him. “Come on. If you’re looking for something to eat, I have an idea.”
You followed without question, moving deeper into the galley toward the large row of ovens.
The cooling counters were mostly empty aside from a single tray filled with unidentifiable golden balls. He picked one up and held it up to you, moving it away when you reached for it with your hand.
“Careful,” he said. “It could be hot and I don’t want you to burn your fingers.”
But he held it to your mouth as though willing you to take a bite.
“It won’t burn my lips though?”
“Nope. It’s magic.”
He placed it against your tongue and for a brief second his fingers brushed the corner of your mouth. The contact was light enough to pretend it hadn't happened at all, but your pulse reacted immediately, stumbling somewhere beneath your ribs. By the time you swallowed, you could hardly remember what the food tasted like.
“Well?” he asked.
You were suddenly very aware that you were in his space. “That depends. Are you trying to feed me or seduce me?”
“Bit of both.”
Somewhere behind you, somebody in the division wolf-whistled before another voice informed them to shut up. That made you laugh despite the way your pulse had begun to flutter unevenly beneath your skin.
“It’s very good,” you admitted.
Thatch smiled. “Good. You know, I heard something very interesting last night.”
“Oh no…”
He shifted the tray further away so he could lean against the counter. “Apparently, you’ve been giving out kisses.”
You closed your eyes briefly. “Izou…”
“Now to be fair, he didn’t volunteer the information.” The corners of Thatch’s mouth twitched up. “I did go asking for details after what happened yesterday.”
“You two gossip worse than old ladies on the dock.”
He chuckled. “I care deeply about the morale of the crew and to be honest, I wanted to see if congratulations were in order. Imagine how surprised I was when Izou told me that Ace was involved in all of this.”
“I know. I know.”
You had no idea what you could even say. You’d been considering doing it again only a few moments ago, after all.
But Thatch didn’t seem at all bothered by Ace’s involvement because he continued, nearly stopping your heart when he said, “I suppose I’m just wondering if there’s any chance of something like that happening between us too.”
You froze, momentarily shocked at the blunt acknowledgement… at the question you’d never allowed yourself to wonder.
“Of course.” It wasn’t a question you had to even think about. You both knew the answer. “It’s just… I don’t have a schedule or anything. Izou kissed me without warning really and Ace just kind of happened.”
“How does one just happen into a kiss?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, that doesn’t help me very much,” Thatch chuckled. “I’m trying to figure out how to get the opportunity here.”
Your eyes flicked to his lips instinctively. “You don’t need to do anything,” you said. “You just never asked.”
He stared at you for half a second before he shook his head. “Sugar, I wasn’t about to just demand you kiss me. Didn't seem right asking when I wasn't sure where your head was at.”
“Well, I want you to ask.”
You saw the surprise settle in in real time. Watched the brief widening of his eyes and the crack in his composure and for once, he didn’t look like he’d been ready for that answer. You almost would have thought he went over this conversation in his head.
But he didn’t prepare for that.
“You do?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He breathed out slowly, looking away for just a second before his smile returned and he stepped closer. “Alright. Can I kiss you?”
“You’ve always been able to.”
That was all the permission he needed before he leaned in. Thatch kissed you gently at first, one hand settling against your waist while the other tilted your chin upward. His touch was careful in a way that made your chest ache. As though he was still giving you room to change your mind even after everything you'd just said.
You felt his smile before you properly registered it, warm against your lips and entirely impossible to resist.
You couldn’t help but laugh softly, moving away to give him a look. “You’re smiling too much.”
“Can you blame me?”
“Not really.”
Then he kissed you properly. The hand around your waist slid slowly around you, drawing you close with natural ease. Familiar laughter lingered faintly against his mouth even as the kiss deepened. You barely noticed yourself moving forward until there was no space between your bodies anymore, your fingers curling instinctively into the front of his coat.
By the time you broke away, your breathing was uneven and Thatch looked ridiculously pleased with himself.
“This is going to be a problem,” he said. “I’m going to get addicted to you.”
And then, because apparently he had no intention of behaving anymore, he kissed you again. You made a soft, offended noise against his mouth that lost all meaning the moment your arms slid around his neck willingly.
Warm hands settled against your waist before he turned and lifted you easily onto the edge of the counter behind you.
“Thought I wasn’t allowed to sit on counters that weren’t my spot.”
“There are exceptions.”
He rejoined your lips before you could point out any other flaws in his logic.
The galley had started filling slowly around you as more fourth division members filtered in to begin dinner preparations and you only bothered taking note after the fourth cough of surprise and the second dropped pot.
“Get back to work,” Thatch called without even looking away from you.
The entire ship would know about this within the hour but you really couldn’t find it in your heart to care too much.
You dropped your forehead to his shoulder, focusing on your breathing while you heard the scurrying of his division getting back to work. “I was told I needed to make sure tonight’s meal was good,” you said. “So I shouldn’t distract the head chef this much.”
“They’ll be fine. They know what they’re doing.”
Warmth still curled lazily through you from his attentions but it seemed you had made your point because he stepped away with a sigh.
“I’d love to keep you with me for the whole night doll but I did just remember I promised Izou I would send you his way if I saw you.”
“You just remembered?” you asked teasingly.
“I was very distracted.”
You very much didn’t want to leave but you knew you should all the same. Thatch helped you down from the counter, pressed one kiss to your head and immediately switched into his commander voice to organise dinner. It seemed that his division hadn’t really managed to keep their focus with everything happening.
You laughed and waved as you slipped from the galley, still mildly floating as you made your way through the ship, pointedly avoiding Marco when you spotted him.
Izou was never a hard man to find. Especially not to you.
The sixteenth division had dispersed from their duties for the day and you found him, in almost a crude imitation of the first day, sitting in his quarters, a book in his hand and an ochoko beside him.
You walked in without knocking, closed the door behind you and leaned your back against it, unable to stop from smiling at him.
He looked you over and shook his head. “You’re lucky my possessiveness is very tempered right now otherwise I’m not certain I’d welcome you into my room anymore.”
“You knew Thatch was going to do that.”
“Of course. He asked me at least three times today if I was sure it was a good idea.” He tapped the seat next to him and reached for another ochoko. “Come. You’re clearly feeling quite proud of yourself.”
“Proud?” you said, dropping into the seat. “I don’t know about that. This is all getting very entangled.”
“And yet.”
“And yet,” you repeated, taking the ochoko from him with a grateful nod. “It feels a little wrong to come to you with this when you’re also part of it.”
Izou smiled. “Oh, don’t worry about me. I see this as a rather important consideration about it all. After all, you certainly aren’t turning to anybody else when you need to talk, are you?”
“No,” you said, humoured.
“Then that says a great deal. Have your drink and then we can discuss how Marco plans to flay you tomorrow when he hears the news.”
Seas… you hadn’t even thought about that part.
Tags: @miwn8 ; @rubyninja1 ; @etherealroguedrifter ; @mugiiwara-ya
I've just realised I answered the wrong Izou ask and instead of putting headcanons under the headcanon request, I put the injury fic 🫣
I need to see if I can fix that.
Is it ok to request Izou x Reader content, maybe first meeting and falling in love or any relationship headcanons? I think his so underrated . Thank you so much and have a good day
One Piece | Izou | 3.4k | Masterlist
“You should watch your step rather than me. It’s quite slippery.”
You breathed out gently, watching the air mist in front of your face. “I’m trying,” you defended yourself. “But you suit this kind of place so well.”
Izou glanced toward you with a faint smile. Small, delicate snowflakes had settled over his hair, resting like glitter amongst the dark strands. “Why? Because it’s cold?”
“No,” you laughed. You reached for him and he leaned closer, allowing you to brush a stray flake from his cheek. “Because it’s elegant, beautiful, and just the slightest bit dangerous.”
He pressed a small kiss to the corner of your mouth, one that would certainly leave a small red smudge. “I’m glad you think so.”
You still thought so even now… although maybe it wasn’t the best thing to mention anymore. Would the lipstick smudge still be on your lips now that it was mostly gone from his own? Red had always been a good colour on him. It suited the snow too, all bright against the white.
You only wished it wasn’t your own blood.
You could enjoy it more then.
Your step stumbled and you held his arm tighter. His gaze flicked to you immediately and you tried to smile and reassure as best as you could. There was nothing to worry about. You would be fine.
You barely felt it.
“It’s not much further,” Izou said and though you knew he meant to reassure, you didn’t like how forced the words sounded.
Looking over your shoulder, the path down the mountain was clearly marked in red. “I didn’t know I had that much blood to spare,” you commented. “It looks like a painting.”
Izou didn’t look. “Most paintings aren’t quite so deadly.”
“I know but I’m just imagining it like that,” you said. “Makes it feel less dangerous.”
“Try not to waste your energy on thoughts about it.” He tightened the pressure he had against your side and that made it hurt – a burning ache pushing through the frigid temperature of your skin. “Focus on your steps. We’ll be close enough soon.”
Walking was getting hard. The snow was thick and you had to drag your legs through it like heavy logs. Even with Izou’s coat tight around your shoulders, you were only getting colder the more you moved. You tried to lean closer to him but each time he nudged you back onto your feet, refusing to let you shift your weight into his chest.
“It might be worth carrying you,” he said. “Though I think it may worsen it, if you feel you cannot walk anymore, I’ll do so.”
Somewhere in the back of your mind, you connected that he wasn’t stopping you from leaning against him; he was righting you when you began to tip unsteadily. Honestly, walking wasn’t going very well with that in mind.
But Izou would be much slower if he had to carry you and you didn’t want that.
“I can sit,” you said. “Then you can go and call somebody. I’ll stay put.”
“There’s nowhere here that’s not covered in snow.”
“That’s fine,” you said.
It was cold, true, but you had his coat and the snow wasn’t anywhere near as cold as the surrounding air. It was almost warm even. You wouldn’t mind sitting in it for a bit... perhaps lying down and just –
“Try to stay awake for me.”
“Sorry?”
“Don’t drift off.”
Had you been drifting? You’d only been thinking of resting. The walk up the mountain had been tiring to begin with and then the fight and your injury…
Izou pulled his coat tighter around your shoulders as though that would get more heat into you. His forearm brushed over yours, near burning in temperature. You flinched away on instinct alone though the movement caused a slight ache in your side.
“You’re really hot,” you mumbled. “Like, in a different way to usual. Do you have a fever or something?”
He didn’t meet your eyes no matter how hard you stared at him. “No,” he said. “I don’t.”
You passed beneath a tree, its boughs heavy with untouched snow and you remembered it from earlier in the morning. That was good. It meant the village wasn’t too far and from there, the Moby Dick was out in the water. Marco would be able to deal with this injury quickly.
It hadn’t been that bad when you first saw it. Though it had been difficult to see properly through the churning bubbles and the dark, murky water. You hadn’t even known you were hurt until you saw the blood stream past your face as you swam for the surface. Izou had his coat over your shoulders the second you were out the water, a final shot finishing your opponent.
You tried to move the coat aside and Izou caught your hand before you could.
“Leave it for now,” he said. He tugged off his glove with his teeth and slipped it over your hand. “Try to stay warm.”
He didn’t offer you the other one; drenched in blood and pressed against your injury.
“Once we get to the port, I’ll fire some shots rather than sailing back,” he said. “Marco moves faster than any vessel would.”
You took extra steps to think about his words before you nodded. “Marco doesn’t like you shooting at nothing though. He says it draws unneeded attention.”
“He will understand the situation is a little different to when I usually fire at idiots.”
“Okay. Just don’t get in trouble for me.”
He didn’t respond. He was probably just focusing because the village didn’t seem to be getting much closer.
You were feeling sleepier than ever but the good part about the Moby Dick was that it was always warm. And Marco was always warm too. Which made sense because sometimes he was made of fire. Especially when he was healing you.
“Wake up.”
You startled and looked to Izou, raising your head from where it had drooped toward the ground. You hadn’t been sleeping though. Just thinking.
“I’m not that tired,” you lied to him in hopes it would make him feel better. “And I know I shouldn’t sleep yet.”
“Good. You can rest once we’ve arrived.”
“You should sleep too,” you mumbled. “You also had to walk very far.” You couldn’t remember where he had been during the fight. Most of it felt very blurry in your memories at the moment. “Were you hurt?”
“No.”
“Oh, that’s great.”
The snow turned to cobble beneath your boots and walking got marginally easier after that. You felt almost better. The ground was steady under your shoes. People passing by blurred slightly so you watched your steps instead. One step in front of the other, keeping time with Izou but you quickly got distracted by the red on your left boot.
“Cover your ears.”
“Hm?”
Izou had drawn his pistol and for a second, you looked for a potential threat before you remembered his plan. You lifted your hand to cover your one ear, tucking the other against his shoulder and closing your eyes.
Even with your ears covered, the three he discharged into the ground were blaring loud. You flinched away from each one.
Then he let go of you for a split second before his grip redoubled, his pistol clattering to the ground as he caught your shoulder and dragged you into his chest. No. That hadn’t been what happened. He caught you.
Your legs had given out. You couldn’t even move them, trying to force them back into working like they should be.
You weren’t home yet. You had to stay fine.
“Can you stand?”
Yes. You could. You obviously knew how to but when you tried to push away from Izou, you found your legs just weren’t cooperating. You shifted your head a little, tilting it back so you could see him again.
His perfect face, hair still decorated by the snowflakes from the storm. You counted them rather than answer, appreciating how the light caught each one.
“Soon,” Izou said, his eyes locked over your head. “He’s flying.”
Oh, that was good. Somebody was on the way and you could get rid of the concern that furrowed his brow. You really didn’t like it when he frowned that way because it meant he was upset with something and you much preferred him happy.
You blinked and he shook your shoulder hard. You startled in confusion at the sudden roughness and snapped your eyes open.
There were blue flames around you now. Those hadn’t been there before you blinked.
“What happened?”
You recognised the voice asking but you didn’t have time to answer.
“I’ll explain later. Take her and go.” Izou pushed you back into somebody else. “Now.”
You’d never heard him sound that angry before. Though maybe angry wasn’t the right word for it. It was an emotion you’d never heard him use before, a rough and desperate one you didn’t recognise but that you wanted to reassure him away from.
But then warmth was wrapping around you, flickering flames that lingered on your stomach and you were being carried away from Izou which meant Marco had arrived.
And that meant you could finally sleep.
So, you did.
When you woke up, you were warm.
The last thing you remembered clearly was snow pressing against your boots and wind biting at every bit of skin left exposed. Now there were blankets over your legs, heavy enough that moving beneath them took effort.
Your throat was dry. Your limbs lagged behind your brain though and instead of grabbing the cup at your bedside, you backhanded it and sent it spinning across the wooden floor of the infirmary.
You watched it for a second, water seeping over the ground and sighed, sitting up to grab it when a bolt of pain erupted through your stomach.
Thick white bandages wrapped tight around your torso where you grabbed for it, palms pressing against the burning pain and breaths coming sharply. For a blissful second, you couldn’t remember what had happened before your brain gracefully flooded you with almost too many memories of the source.
Shit.
The ice had cracked under your feet. You hadn’t even known it was a lake. And that distracted you enough for a blade to slice into your side right as you plunged through.
Everything after that was a blur. You’d swum for the surface but then… then there was just red spilling over the snow and stone.
The door swung open and you looked toward Marco apologetically, still biting your tongue from the ache.
“Sorry,” you said and winced at how rough your voice was. “I missed the cup.”
He picked it up without concern and stepped over the water he’d normally have lectured you for causing. Then again, you supposed this was hardly a usual situation. You were very rarely a patient of his.
“It’s alright, yoi,” he said. “I’m glad you’re awake. Are you feeling cold at all?”
You had to pause and think about it but you didn’t feel cold. Your joints were stiff and there was a slight chill in your legs but it didn’t feel bad.
“Not really.”
“Alright. Move your fingers one at a time.”
You did so and it took a surprising amount of effort. Each one ached as though you had been sitting still for far too long but they still moved. Marco observed clinically before he nodded and called some of his phoenix fire to his palms, pressing it over the top of your knuckles to soothe the ache in your joints.
“You won’t lose anything to frostbite at least,” he said. “That’s very good. I was concerned that the blood loss might have accelerated the danger.”
“Did I lose a lot?” you asked.
“Far more than I would consider healthy, to say the least.” For a second, he looked at you in the same way he did whenever a member of the crew had done something spectacularly stupid. “You gave everybody a hell of a scare, yoi. Can you tell me the name of the island you were on?”
You said it instinctively, more focused on trying to remember the events that occurred between the lake and the infirmary. It was like squinting through water to try and remember anything more than the shock of cold.
Marco picked up the cup. “At least you’re fully conscious this time. I’ll bring you some water and then I’ll fetch Izou for you.”
At the mention of his name, your attention snapped back to Marco, memory racing away from thoughts of injuries and blood to settle on something nicer. How beautiful he had looked with the snowflakes in his hair and the slightest smile on his lips.
“Is he okay?”
“He’s not injured. It is late but… well, I doubt he’s asleep.”
You glanced toward the infirmary’s windows but found them drawn shut and the clock on the mantle was shadowed enough that you couldn’t read it properly. Marco didn’t give you a chance to ask many questions though before he disappeared, returning only for a brief second with water that you gratefully took.
Then he was gone again and the anticipation almost made you forget your thirst. You sipped from the cup and waited, almost buzzing.
Izou stepped through the door with his usual composed elegance – so perfect that you might forget anything was even wrong. His hair had been perfectly pinned back, his outfit as spotless as ever.
You smiled on instinct but he didn’t return the expression, face unmoving as he looked over your half-seated position on the bed.
“Marco says you’re awake properly now,” he said.
“I am,” you said. “And no frostbite.”
Izou nodded, the slightest inclination of his head. He didn’t cross the space between you and you wished you could do it for him but that likely wouldn’t end well. You took another sip from your water and twisted slightly to put it down.
The silence felt loaded. He looked over his shoulder. “I imagined Marco might want to test to make certain you’re alright but it seems he’s vanished.”
You waved your hand. “He’s checked on the important things, I think. No missing limbs and I remember all the important stuff. Though it does get a little muddy after I fell into the lake.”
“That’s unsurprising.”
“But I do know I should thank you. For bringing me back safely.”
The corner of Izou’s lips twitched into a faint smile. “Even though you forced me to climb that mountain to begin with, I was hardly going to leave you to die atop it.”
“I thought you might like it,” you defended.
“And I did until you decided to make the trip more eventful. Next time, I’d prefer you add excitement in a way that features far less blood.”
You laughed softly and even the small movement sent little jabs of pain through your stomach. It was going to be hell to recover from this, to say the least.
“I am sorry for waking you up,” you apologised. “Marco said it was late but he didn’t give me a choice on calling you.”
Though honestly, you didn’t think Izou had been woken. He didn’t exactly sleep in a full-face of makeup to begin with. Nor would he have had time to fully correct himself before coming down here.
“It’s actually early,” he corrected. “I imagine the sun will be rising quite soon. Thatch is already preparing breakfast.”
That did worry you a little. It had been early in the morning when you asked Izou to join you in walking around the village which meant almost a full day was missing from your mind…
“Don’t frown so hard,” he said. “You’ll give yourself a headache on top of the damage already done to your body.”
You smiled at the comment. “It’s not that bad. I’m still breathing.”
“You nearly weren’t.”
The words came out sharper than any blade and hit with the subtlety of a knife to the stomach. You startled at the edge but he didn’t take them back. Not even a flicker of remorse crossed his expression at the snap.
You hesitated, thinking, before you responded. “It was close,” you admitted.
For a second, he didn’t respond. Then he breathed out slowly and walked to your bed, his movements as flawless as ever. He stopped beside you, his façade unreadably perfect except for one tiny detail.
The edges of his lipstick were shaky. Nothing you would notice if you weren’t this close.
But Izou never messed up his makeup.
He took your hand and you tightened your grip tight enough to hurt. If it hadn’t been for the thin bandages, you would have squeezed even tighter.
You could have died.
He wiped away the two tears that managed to escape down your cheeks, fingers cool against your skin. You leaned into the touch and he lingered there, lightly touching your face as though to soothe the realisation from you.
“I don’t remember much of the walk,” you admitted after a second. “Snippets here and there. But one memory that keeps coming back is just how pretty you look with snowflakes in your hair.”
“What a foolish thing to focus on.”
But there was no heat or bite to the comment. You couldn’t help but smile and this time, he returned the expression; amused by what you thought was important while on the edge of death.
“You’re not very cooperative when you’re bleeding out,” he said.
“Unintentionally.”
He shook his head in disbelief. “Freezing, covered in your own blood and barely conscious but instead of worrying over that, you’re more concerned with the snow and if I was hurt.”
Your cheeks warmed. “I’m glad you weren’t though I can see you haven’t slept?”
“Is that truly so obvious?”
“To me? Yes.”
He chuckled. “It’s funny. Most have taken the assumption that I’m entirely unaffected by everything. True, I’ve perhaps allowed them to believe that in my answers to their questions but truthfully, I’ve had too many hours to reflect on things.”
“What were you reflecting on?”
He brushed his thumb over you bandaged knuckles. “Too much. Most pointedly that I would give just about anything to keep you with me.”
You couldn’t help but feel guilty though it was not your fault at all. Izou didn’t panic or worry when things didn’t go according to plan; he was one of the most reliable people on the ship when it came to keeping his head. But your eyes caught on the slight shake in the way he’d applied his lipstick. The faintest fear.
“I’m sorry,” you said, genuinely. “I never wanted to ask you to do something like that.”
“I don’t wish to ever do it again.”
It was a plea, unspoken but heavily implied. You pulled his hand closer to you, pressing a kiss to his knuckles and wishing you could hug him. But for now, this would have to do. It succeeded in making him smile either way.
“I’m also sorry about your clothes,” you said. “I’ll try to get the blood out – ”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“But it was such a pretty fabric on you though. I loved the pattern.”
“I’ll find something new,” he reassured. “I can’t say I’m awfully fond of that kimono anymore.”
You sighed, enjoying how much he’d relaxed. You were drawing the tension away from his shoulders, one comment at a time. “Well, you could wear anything and still put everybody to shame so I suppose new isn’t bad.”
He shook his head. “Recovering from being on death’s door and still you don’t cease with your compliments. At this rate, the others will assume I pay you.”
“I just enjoy feeding your vanity,” you teased.
“Vanity?” he repeated with a soft laugh. “Maybe.” He leaned down to press a small kiss to the top of your head. “I expect you to heal quickly. I can’t say I’m too fond of having to give you to Marco for excessive periods of the day.”
You couldn’t help but chuckle at the slight possessiveness. “If he bothers you that much, I’m sure I could ask for help from somebody else in his division.”
“That would do very little in fixing the problem that I am not the one able to help you.”
“You already saved my life. What more do you want to do?”
“Ensure you stop giving me reasons to worry.”
You leaned closer to him and silence settled comfortably between you, warm and soft. Izou remained beside your bed, his hand still tight in yours as a faint light crept through the infirmary windows. Barely there at first but gradually growing brighter as you watched.
You leaned back against the pillows, the heaviness slowly returning to your body.
“I think,” you said softly. “I’d like to see the snow with you again someday. It does suit you greatly.”
He looked down at you and smiled. “I can’t say I’ve ever been too fond of snow,” he said. “But as long as you promise not to get stabbed again, I’ll consider indulging you.”
“I’ll try my hardest.”
“I’ll think about whether that’s good enough.”
Tags: @miwn8 ; @aceincase
Hi Dawn! Just a question~
Do you do anon emojis? And if so (and if it's not claimed) can I have 🌻?
Hey! I mean, sure! I wouldn't say I 'do' them just because I haven't had anybody ask before but I'd actually really love that if you want to! 💙
If you want to send requests or share your headcanons and tag them that way, I'd adore it!
your writing is so good, usually i only read stuff with ace but with you, i read everything just because its all so good
Oh my word, thank you! That's a truly incredible compliment! 💙 It warms my heart to hear you enjoy my writing that much!
The End of The Chase (Shanks x Reader)
One Piece | Shanks | 3.0k | Masterlist
Once, when you thought you had a good understanding of how he worked, you were certain Shanks was best enjoyed in pieces.
Drinks shared and nights spent with his hand at your hip and his mouth against your neck before dawn. But always in fleeting moments. Never for more than that. It was easier that way. If you stayed longer than a night, it became more difficult.
And Shanks had never been the type for anything more than easy.
You had assumed, at least.
The first time he made the offer was in a room already hot with the lingering aftermath of the evening. Rough sheets twisted around your legs, sticking to sweat-slick skin while the open window did little to chase away the summer air. Bruises were already beginning to bloom along your throat from the lazy path of his mouth before he slipped between your legs and pressed a kiss to the inside of your knee, softer than anything he'd given you before.
“Come with me tomorrow,” he said, offering another further up your thigh. “Sail with us.”
You lifted your head, curious at the gentleness of his words and his touch. “Join you?” you asked. “Do you not have a full crew already?”
“We do,” he said, his smile lazy as ever. “But I’ll make space for you.”
You laughed quietly to yourself, brushing some of his hair away from his face so you could appreciate him better. Too handsome for his own good. He knew he could get away with anything if he looked at you like that.
“I see a problem with your offer,” you said and he kissed further along your thigh.
“What is it?”
“It’ll make you lose interest too quickly.”
Shanks paused, leaning his cheek against your skin. “Lose interest?”
You moved your leg from his shoulder and leaned down to drag him higher up your body, fingers tangled in his hair and lips locked in a messy kiss. He still tasted of the drinks he’d downed earlier and that explained enough about his impulsive offer.
“It won’t be fun if I’m already on board your ship,” you teased.
“Nonsense. If I had you on my ship, I'd never get anything done. Becks would have to start captaining properly.”
“Don’t you do that when I’m around anyway?” you asked.
He hummed and kissed you again as though to distract you. “Maybe.”
You chuckled softly, unwilling to admit to him how much his offer tempted you. He was far too addictive to turn down. Especially when his tongue was in your mouth and his hand was dragging your leg back up his hip. If you didn’t focus, you could almost believe he wanted you to stay with him. But pretty words alone couldn’t sway you.
You still left the next morning and he didn’t stop you, just pressed a kiss to your shoulder as you slipped from the bed.
“We’ll see each other soon,” he said and he sounded far too confident.
You smiled. “I suppose it depends on if the sea favours us.”
“The sea’s a big friend of mine,” he reassured you. “I’m sure she’ll bring you back to me.”
He wasn’t wrong. No matter how far you sailed, the ocean didn’t give you long before it reunited you with the Red Hair Pirates. You stopped shying away from them after the third encounter, growing bolder with each offer Shanks tossed your way.
Now when you saw the Red Force docked in harbour, her flag snapping high above the masts, you'd wander the island until you found the right tavern. It was never difficult. Somewhere there would be a building with music spilling from the windows, laughter loud enough to shake the walls and patrons pretending not to stare at the cluster of infamous pirates occupying half the room. The Red Hair Pirates had a talent for making themselves at home wherever they landed.
They were a friendly crew. A mostly peaceful one, even. But they were the crew of an emperor and people respected that deeply.
You walked in most times, walked out with your hands in Shanks’ hair every time, and it was never a problem.
Not until the one evening when you waltzed in and half of his crew nudged their captain as though he hadn’t already raised his head to look at you. You smiled at him and made your way to the bar, not bothering him and the woman currently pressed to his arm.
But he never wasted time in approaching you, even if he was busy. He slipped up behind you as you ordered your drink and nodded to the bartender.
"Whatever she's having is on me."
You hummed. “You’re going to run your ship dry if you pay for the drinks of every girl that smiles at you.”
His arm slipped naturally around your waist, resting on your hip as though it belonged there. “Not every girl with a great smile,” he corrected. “Just the ones who need a bit more convincing to dance with me.”
The music in this tavern wasn’t quite suited for dancing. It was softer and almost impossible to hear over the shouts of his crew.
“I might need more convincing than a drink,” you commented.
“Name your price.”
Shanks was far too good at making your heart flutter, no matter how often you were exposed to his seemingly endless charm. He already knew he’d get what he wanted that night and you knew it too but sometimes, making him work for it was part of the fun.
“You’ve been trying to guess at my price for a while now,” you said. “You haven’t gotten any closer.”
“I’ll figure it out with enough time.”
You turned to face him fully, draping your arms loosely over his shoulders. “I’m lucky I managed to find you without any other pretty women around, hm? Ones with more reasonable demands?”
He chuckled and leaned in to press his lips against the side of your throat. “There are plenty. Funny thing is, I keep ending up back here.”
You tilted your head to the side. “As easy to lead back to your bed?”
The expression he gave you was off – a smile that didn’t quite get to his eyes. “Such little faith in me. You’re lucky I don’t get hurt easily.”
“It’s not a lack of faith,” you corrected. “But I know you enjoy the chase more than the reward.”
“I enjoy both as long as you’re there.”
You smiled. “I think you’d miss it too much.”
“Miss what? Waking up alone? Sounds awful.” He pulled you closer. “Can’t say I’d mind having you there instead.”
“The pining,” you corrected. “The wondering when you’ll see me again. Trying to convince me every time. If I was already there, it wouldn’t be nearly as fun.”
Something unreadable flickered over his face. “You think I’m trying to convince you for fun?”
“You wouldn’t do it if it was unpleasant.”
“Or if it wasn’t worth it.”
You couldn’t help being flattered by him, always so smooth. You loved the way he spoke sometimes – the way he made you feel as though you were the only important person in the world.
“I’m surprised your crew isn’t filled with women thanks to those pretty words of yours,” you said. “Even I struggle to tell you no.”
Shanks laughed, a short sound. “Wouldn’t have guessed you struggle with it.”
You leaned in, your mouth hot against his. He kissed you lazily as though you had nowhere else to be, allowing you to lead him through it.
“I’ll get us a room upstairs,” you said with a hum.
For a second, he smiled. Then he leaned in to press a swift peck to the corner of your mouth and said, “No.”
It was as though even the music itself paused as you blinked at him. “No?”
“As much as I love chasing you,” he said, stepping away and leaving the space in front of you feeling very empty. “I’m starting to think you enjoy being chased more than you want me. We set sail in the morning. The offer still stands.”
You watched him walk away in mild confusion, still a little lost before his words caught up to you.
Was he serious?
The bartender placed your drink down next to you but you barely heard it. The music carried on around you as though nothing had changed. A few members of the Red Hair Pirates were starting up a song. The woman he’d been talking to earlier grinned when he returned but he took a seat aside Yasopp instead.
You looked around the party and shrugged, taking your drink and a seat at the bar. If he didn’t leave, you had no reason to either.
Maybe he was trying to prove a point? You thought he might look for another woman whose words didn’t sting as bad as yours did, but he drank and laughed with only his crew and you pretended not to see the way he looked at you. As though he was waiting for something.
You finished your drink and swung off the stool, sliding the beri across to the bartender.
“Isn’t – ”
“I can pay for myself.”
The cold night air was refreshing against your face but the familiar curl of cigarette smoke drew your attention to a very unaffected Beckman. You paused when you saw him, not sure if he had something to say. He looked like he did.
“Running away again?”
“No idea what you mean,” you retorted.
He tilted his head toward the swinging door of the tavern; each time it moved, the raucous din bled through into the night. Beckman wasn’t even really what you would consider an acquaintance but he’d dragged Shanks out your bed more times than you could count.
“It’s early for you to be leaving alone,” he noted.
You didn’t have any reason to explain the break in routine to his first mate. And yet…
“Change of pace tonight,” you said. “I think I offended him.”
Beckman nodded. “You did.”
“I didn’t even know that was possible.”
He shrugged and offered you a cigarette. “I didn’t think it was until recently. Not many people can get under his skin.”
“I’m not wrong though,” you defended yourself.
“No,” he agreed. “You weren’t at one point. I’ve long since lost track of how many women I’ve had to drop off at port in the mornings but none of them were recent. Since he met you, there’s been no others.”
You didn’t want to admit to the way that made your heart flutter just slightly. “It’s the challenge. He tries to get me to join your merry little crew, I do, and then he gets bored in a month.”
“It’s possible.”
You didn’t know why it annoyed you so much that he agreed with you but you felt the glare before you could stop it. True or not, he could have said it in a better way.
“Why does it bother you so much then?” Beckman asked. “If you’re so sure that it’s the truth?”
“It’s still not nice to hear.”
“Because you’ve fallen in love with him?”
You shot him a sharp look. If you didn’t know quite how dangerous this man was, you may have snapped a little more venomously. How you hated him for saying the quiet parts of your worst thoughts out loud.
“I don’t fall in love that easily,” you huffed. “I just don’t particularly feel like joining a pirate crew to be a pretty face on the sidelines.”
“He says you have good enough aim that you won’t be wholly useless. And I’m sure he’ll teach you more if you ask.”
You had no other defence. On a different crew, you may have believed him but you’d heard the legends of the Red Hair Pirates and their skills. You would not sail with an emperor just for the sake that he found you attractive. That was a ridiculous decision. Even without the risk that he lost interest once you gave him what he wanted.
“You can see where we’re docked?” Beckman asked.
“Hard to miss.”
“Then you may as well prove your point.” He blew a puff of smoke into the sky. “You can be useless, let him lose interest and I’ll concede that you’re right.”
“And if I would rather things remain as they are?”
“They won’t. You’ve already ruined that part.”
You almost didn’t board. The Red Force came to life while you stood on the dock, shrouded in shadows and watched the sun rise over the horizon the next morning. The crew woke with complaints of headaches and aches as they got to work.
They were about to weigh anchor by the time you finally found the courage to walk forward, catching Hongo with a look right before he raised the ladder.
He stared for a second and then gestured you to board.
It was a strange feeling to step onto the Red Force. The gangplank creaked softly beneath your boots and the ship rose and fell beneath you with the easy rhythm of the sea. For years she had existed as something distant, spoken about in stories and rumours across countless ports. Yet the deck felt solid beneath your feet. The tarred ropes smelled no different from those of any other vessel. No monsters waited beyond the railings. Just a few curious glances and shouted greetings as the wind swelled her sails.
“He’s downstairs,” Hongo said. “Drank more than usual so he’s still nursing a hangover if you want to see him.”
You looked toward the ship’s doctors. “With how much you lot drink, I’m honestly surprised you don’t have a cure already.”
He smiled. “Maybe I do but I simply enjoy the peace in the mornings. Do you want a tour?”
It wasn’t as though you had anything better to do although it did catch you off guard just how unsurprised the Red Hair Pirates seemed to be about your arrival. Not one of them even mentioned your arrival as the wind caught her sails.
Not even Beckman who gave you a simple nod.
The Red Force was kept in beautiful condition. She was evidently loved and no room felt neglected as you followed Hongo through her passages.
Hongo walked you through the galley, the infirmary, the stores, and everywhere else you might need aboard. You memorised the route as best you could, making note of scuffed boards and chips in the wood rather than considering the ship as anything more. It was easier to focus on that, you realised.
Hongo stopped at a door at the end of a passage that led through the quarters and he pushed it open with casual ease.
“This one’s yours.”
You frowned at the way he said it before stepping inside.
A warm, clean room waited beyond the doorway. Sunlight spilled through the small window, stirring the pale curtains where the sea breeze caught them. A narrow bed sat against one wall with blankets folded neatly across the end while an empty chest waited beside a small desk untouched by clutter. Nothing looked lived in. Nothing looked abandoned either. The room carried the strange feeling of something prepared and patiently waiting.
Guest quarters maybe? Though that hardly made sense and this didn’t look like a spare room, briefly swept out when you stepped aboard. They wouldn’t have had time for that.
There was an explanation that made sense though not one you fully grappled with.
“How long has this been here?” you asked.
“Couple months now. Captain wanted it ready if you ever changed your mind.”
You tried not to let it show just how much that made your stomach twist. He’d prepared a room on his ship in case you joined?
Still, you tried to ignore the topic for a little longer by returning to the deck after leaving your bag. You found an opportunity to lean against one of the cannons, talking to Yasopp about nothing of importance while you watched the island fade behind you.
The door onto deck opened and Shanks stepped out, dishevelled and hiding his eyes from the sun.
Naturally his crew all shouted at once in response to his obvious headache and he winced visually, which only made the others laugh harder. You couldn’t help but smile, chuckling softly at their torment.
He spun at the sound, grin disappearing at once.
Your heart lodged in your throat as you stared, not certain what you should say.
“You’re here?”
Well, he didn’t have to sound so surprised.
“Have been for the whole morning,” you said, your voice quieter than you meant for it to be. “But I thought I should let you get your beauty sleep.”
He chuckled as he walked over, smile gentler than you’d ever seen it before. His eyes glinted with barely concealed excitement as he approached. “Did somebody show you around? To your room?”
“You set that up a while ago,” you said. “Very confident.”
“Hopeful,” he clarified. “How long are you staying for?”
You hesitated before you answered. If you really wanted to, you could disappear the next time you found yourself at an island. But something about that room sitting and waiting for you made leaving feel far less appealing than it ever had before.
“I haven’t decided yet,” you settled on saying.
“That’s fine. When you do leave, just tell me before you go.”
“I will,” you promised.
How many years had passed since you made that promise now? You thought back on it, trying to remember while you swirled the drink in your hand, Shanks’ hand still resting on your hip where it belonged.
“Lost in thought?” he asked.
“Lost in memories,” you corrected with a small smile.
“Oh?” He leaned in close and pressed a kiss right behind your ear in the way that always made you laugh. “Which ones?”
“Ancient ones. I realised that I’m still waiting for you to get bored of me so I can run away.” You took a sip of your drink and tilted your head toward him. “You getting there yet?”
He laughed proudly. “Nowhere close. I should probably be more careful though. Think you’d sooner shoot me than run away now.”
You chuckled in agreement and leaned in to kiss him, slow and lazy as ever. “Maybe. I’m no longer much of a runner.”
Tags: @miwn8 ; @aceincase
hiiiiiiii i hope you’re doing wellll!!!!! I was wondering if I could request a fluffy scenario with any character of your choosing. Imagine reader and him have been travelling for a while and it’s just been tiring and stressful for reader (can be modern day or regular one piece verse). I would be honoured if you could write anything fluffy with the reader being able to rely on the guys along with comfort and them being a safe space. I know this way this is worded makes zero sense but i’ve been travelling for the past 15+ hours n haven’t been able to sleep at all T-T , i’m honestly on my last crumb of a braincell right now i’m so knackered) TYSMMMMM and feel free to ignore if this is too much ❤️❤️❤️ Hope you’re having a wonderful day/night!
Finally Home (Kid x Reader)
One Piece | Eustass Kid | 1.3k | Masterlist
You didn’t enjoy travelling away from the Victoria Punk.
It made your bones ache, crammed into a boat far smaller than what you were used to, with nowhere to stretch your legs and nowhere comfortable to rest your head. The wood dug into you no matter how you sat, the damp crept into your clothes, and the constant swaying left your stomach unsettled for hours at a time.
Eating properly felt impossible when every bite sat heavy and wrong, so when you finally saw the familiar skull on the horizon, you breathed a sigh of relief that seemed to leave your whole body at once.
But you didn’t even get the chance to bring your stuff further than two steps aboard before Wire pulled your bag from your hands.
“Workshop,” he said.
You stared at him blankly, still half-reaching for your things. “I wanted to at least shower before I see him.”
“Absolutely not. We’ve dealt with this mood for long enough.”
You sighed and tilted your head back slightly; your neck was stiff and your shoulders aching. You had little idea what kind of mood Kid was in but the fact that he wasn’t stalking the deck while waiting for you was a little suspicious.
The workshop door was swung wide open and you walked in, breathing in the familiar scent of oil and hot metal in the air. When you’d first boarded the Victoria, you hated how everything smelled of iron and grease, how it clung to your clothes and hair long after you left the room.
Now it comforted you in a way little else could. You’d missed all of it but mostly, you’d missed knowing he was somewhere close by.
Kid’s gaze immediately snapped to you, agitation brimming in his glare. “You’re a day late.”
“I know,” you huffed, tugging the cloak from your shoulders. You threw it over a scrap of metal and hoped it wouldn’t rip. “I came across a storm and had to wait for it to pass. That piece of driftwood I was in would have been underwater immediately.”
“Wouldn’t have been a problem if we sailed together. I’m surprised you didn’t drown with that thing.”
“Tell me about it,” you muttered.
He did seem a little more on edge than you’d expected but you were far too tired to dissect what was under his skin this time.
If you’d had the opportunity to travel alongside him rather than in a tiny boat with less room than a cupboard, obviously you would have taken him with you. Then again, you’d realised that Kid often overlooked just how much you preferred his company.
You grabbed a ratty, old metal chair that had barely any padding left on it anymore and sat at the only clear table, lowering your head onto your arms.
It wasn’t the most comfortable spot but sleep sounded so nice at the moment.
To just rest and finally catch up on all the hours you missed while floating on that tiny soapbox…
“Oi, don’t pass out there! I need that table!”
“Work around me.”
“Like hell I will! Go and get some actual sleep!”
You opened one eye to give him an annoyed look. “Can’t. Everything’s too noisy down there.”
“What? Everybody’s awake and busy.”
“Then it’s too cold.”
“You have blankets enough.”
“Maybe I want to spend time with you because I’ve missed you.”
For a second, he didn’t respond, his eyes narrowed at you. Then he made a loud scoffing noise and turned back to the metal in front of him. “Whatever. If you get back pain from sleeping half on a fucking table, I don’t want to hear it.”
You hummed and closed your eyes again.
Truly, you probably wouldn’t actually be able to fall asleep like this. Kid had a point. It was uncomfortable and the cold steel of the table shoving into your ribs was horribly annoying. You adjusted yourself twice, trying to find a spot where it wasn’t impossible before you gave up and just stood.
Kid looked toward you immediately as though you might leave. You walked over to where he was sitting instead, squeezed between him and the table and straddled his lap, pressing your face tight against his chest.
So much better than the table.
“Hey!”
“Quieter please,” you mumbled against him. “I’ve had a headache for the past two days.”
“I don’t care,” he snapped but his voice was much softer now; a deeper rumble that you felt in your chest. “Why the hell are you sitting on me? I’m working.”
You shrugged in answer. “Comfortable.”
He smelled just as much like oil as the rest of his workshop did, sharp and metallic under the warmth of him. His chest was solid beneath your cheek, his breathing uneven with irritation, and still you buried your face deeper into his shoulder. You liked this top on him because it exposed so much of him, though given how miserable you were feeling, you wouldn’t have minded having his coat to wrap yourself in too.
“Why are you so tired?” he muttered. “Did you bump into trouble?”
“No,” you said. “You were right about putting the roger onto my boat. Anybody who saw it pissed off quickly.”
“They know our reputation.”
“Mm.”
He reached around you to grab something and you tilted your head to the disassembled equipment on the table. “Making something new?” you asked.
“Nah. It’s one of Killer’s punishers. He said the blade was loose yesterday so I’m taking it apart fully to make sure it’s still working.”
“Would suck if the blade came off while fighting,” you said, your voice slipping as you stumbled closer to sleep. “Just woosh, no more heads.”
Kid scoffed. “You must be fucking tired. You’re slurring all your words together.”
“I barely slept on the way back… it took so long.”
He shoved the table a little bit away and you settled properly on his lap, wrapped around him even as his chair creaked concerningly. “Don’t move around.”
“No promises.”
Sleep grabbed you embarrassingly fast once he started working again but when you woke up, it was to a rapidly darkening workshop. Not one of the lanterns was on and the dusky light of sunset was pushing through the window. Kid’s arm was heavy around your back, snores rumbling through his chest. You blinked blearily and lifted your head, still feeling the ache in your muscles.
You must have been really tired. It felt like you hadn’t moved in… however many hours had passed. Hadn’t you arrived in the morning?
You sat up a bit and Kid grumbled. His goggles were half on still and you pulled them off, snuggling closer to press a kiss to his cheek. And then to the corner of his mouth. Then to his jaw. Each time, he made a progressively more annoyed noise until you began to litter kisses over him.
He let you get away with it for longer than he would have admitted, his breathing still slow beneath you before irritation finally caught up with him. His hand came up to wrap around your mouth.
“Stop it,” he grumbled.
You kissed his palm playfully. “Guess you were tired too.”
“No, I just had a pain sitting on top of me so I couldn’t do anything else.”
“You couldn’t just sit up and move me?” you asked.
He didn’t respond. You laughed and slipped off his lap, feeling the stinging sensation of your muscles waking up again.
“Come on,” you said, tugging at his arm slightly. “I want to clean up and then sleep in a bed.”
“You’re fucking demanding, you know that?”
“I do. Want to shower with me?”
He spluttered at the sudden offer. At least he was awake properly now and you couldn’t help but laugh at the red tinging his face, something that immediately got you barked at to ‘stop’.
Kid didn’t take you up on it though. No sooner had you stepped into his quarters and he collapsed onto the bed, half crushing you against the mattress until you slipped into sleep with him.
Seemed you hadn’t been the only one not sleeping while you were away.
Still, you were home now and with him pressed tightly against you, you couldn’t imagine anywhere else you’d rather be.
Tags: @miwn8 ; @aceincase
Update, Law confessed to my OC and moved in the same day 😭 I was not expecting it to happen in a span on 2 hours.
😂 Sounds like some kind of fate!
i don’t normally read for Ace because he’s my sister’s favorite, (Law is mine 🤭), but Ghost in the Machine is GENUINELY one of the best fics i’ve ever read. i’m actually obsessed with it, and i look forward to reading the rest of it! tbh all of your works are so good, i’ve read and reread them so many times. 😄
Oh my word, thank you so much! I'm so, so glad to hear that you enjoy my work that much! 💙
Ghost in the Machine has been so much fun to write that I'm almost sad it has to end 😂. But genuinely, thank you for the lovely message, it absolutely has made my day 💙
(And I have more stuff planned for Law soon)
Kissing the Commanders (Whitebeard Pirates x Reader) - Part 3
One Piece | Marco, Ace, Izou, Thatch | 4.5k | Masterlist
You had wanted to kiss Izou for years. Considered it so many nights when you sat alongside him, watching the clouds roll past the star-filled sky.
But now that you’d actually done it, your stomach felt tight enough to make you nauseous.
Because it hadn’t just been him. If it had just been him, you would have been fine, but he knew you’d kissed Ace. He knew you watched after Thatch… knew that deep down part of you looked for Marco the second he entered a room. Izou was probably the only person on the ship who knew any of it.
It was all meant to stay in that strange, floating realm where none of you acknowledged it. It had for so long and now –
There were two sharp knocks on your door and you stopped. Hoping your pacing hadn’t been annoying anyone, you threw it open to find Izou waiting, his expression amused and his appearance perfect. The face of a man who knew exactly what he’d done.
“Morning,” he said. “You skipped breakfast yesterday too so I thought I’d come and find you before Marco suspects you’re strapping bombs to the rudder.”
You breathed out slowly, steadily. “You’re escorting me to breakfast?”
“You don’t have to read into it.”
“I… Izou, you kissed me,” you said, not bothering to lower your voice. “I’m going to be reading into everything now.”
“Probably,” he said. “But if you don’t hurry along, I’ll do it again and cause you another crisis.”
You sighed and stepped back into your room, throwing together the quickest look you were comfortable in before you joined him. He held out his arm and you slipped onto it on instinct alone. He often escorted you around the ship like this. It wouldn’t surprise anyone.
Yet you still held your breath as you stepped into the dining hall.
The room was loud in the familiar way mornings always were aboard the Moby Dick; chairs scraping wood, fourth division voices carrying over one another, the smell of tea and fried batter hanging warm in the air.
Nobody even gave you a second glance. Right. Everybody else was functioning normally.
“I do admit,” Izou said as you approached your regular bench. “I didn’t expect such timidness from you regarding this. Probably the boy’s influence, no?”
You gave him a look. You weren’t being timid.
Before you could answer though a familiar warmth reached around you, your plate appearing as though summoned. You leaned back into Thatch’s chest on instinct and he steadied your shoulder, his smile easy.
“You also heard about Ace then?” he asked.
Izou gave you a pointed look and you shrunk somewhat. “I’ve heard a great many things about Ace lately,” he said. “So, it well depends on what you mean.”
Thatch took a seat on your other side like he always did. Usually, his arm would have settled behind you by now, loose warmth against your shoulders while he stole bites from your plate. This time, he only reached for his coffee.
He smelt faintly of cinnamon and you had to resist the urge to comment on it, silently wishing for any topic other than this one. You could see other crew members turning their heads subtly.
“I’m talking about his posturing yesterday,” Thatch said with a chuckle. “He’s getting really possessive of her.”
“You’ve hardly hidden your attachment.”
“Ah, maybe but I’m sure he’ll get over it.”
Izou took your hand before you could bury your face into it, playing with your fingers before interlacing his own with yours. “He hasn’t said a word to me,” he said, ignoring the panicked look you gave him. “But I don’t know if he’s noticed anything.”
“Can we… I’m really getting tired of talking about Ace now,” you said. “Seriously. Between the two of you and Marco, I’m becoming convinced you’re all interested in him.”
Perhaps you were becoming a bit too defensive. Probably, honestly, but Izou was holding your hand and Thatch was staring at that and you didn’t know if this was going to be a problem because you’d never been physical with Izou like this. And to make matters worse, you could practically hear the crackle of flames from behind you.
“What happened a few days ago?” Thatch said. “Seems like everything was fine until then.”
You were not about to announce it here where you could see Fossa pretending not to lean in and listen. “Apparently, I decided to stay on the ship for a few days and that made the world implode.”
“Bomb threats again,” Izou said with a sage nod. “Somebody should alert Marco.”
“Stop it.”
“Again?” Thatch asked with a small chuckle.
“There’s no ‘again’,” you muttered, pushing at his arm lightly. “I have never threatened to hurt a single person on this ship.”
He gave you a look. “Now, just yesterday you told me that you were wondering if you could push Marco in the ocean.”
“Anybody on the ship who doesn’t deserve it.”
Izou handed you his cup of tea and you took it without thinking, hiding your grumbles in the rim. “Come now,” he said. “There are plenty on the ship who deserve your threats far more than he does. I can give you examples if you’d like.”
“Izou,” Thatch reprimanded. “We’re family. Threats are unneeded.”
“Family has quarrels.” Izou returned smoothly. “We can hardly ask for peace all the time. If we did that, we may as well retire, no?”
Thatch was quiet for a second and you couldn’t help but feel that if you weren’t watching the doors like somebody might burst in at any second, you would be able to keep up with whatever not-so-private debate they were having.
“It’s still good to try,” Thatch conceded.
“I do try,” you answered, not fully paying attention. “But lately, I’ve caused chaos by breathing so it might be a latent curse.”
“You’re fine,” he reassured and lightly bumped you with his elbow and that… that was weird. Weird enough that you stopped looking for Marco to watch him stand from the bench despite his coffee being full. “Now, I’ve got to get started on cleaning my kitchen. Dropped a bag of flour last night and it’s a nightmare in there.”
And he just left.
No kiss pressed into your hair. No hand dragging briefly across your shoulder as he stood. Just the scrape of the bench against the floorboards before warmth disappeared from your side entirely.
You watched him move easily through the crowded hall toward the galley doors. Discomfort twisted low in your stomach. Everything that had happened recently had been strange but it hadn’t been wrong.
Thatch not flirting with you. That was wrong.
“Izou?”
“Mm, I know. I see it.”
“Did I say something?”
Izou sighed and released your hand. “Nothing. Go.”
“Are you sure I should?”
“You’re going to worry yourself sick after him anyway. My point has already been made.”
You paused for only a second to consider what thought he could have possibly made before you chose to ignore it. A problem for later. You stood quickly and followed Thatch’s path, well aware of the eyes that followed you.
The kitchen was fine. There was no massive mess and in fact, the fourth division called out cheerful greetings as you entered, clearly unaffected by whatever afflicted their commander.
The shouted greetings got Thatch to turn from his cleaning station and he smiled at you like he normally would.
But it was still wrong.
“Aw, were you missing me already?” he teased.
You looked around the kitchen and hummed, moving closer but not quite into his space. “You lied. There’s no flour explosion.”
“I do exaggerate sometimes, I admit.”
“Why? Are you avoiding me?”
It was meant to be a tease but the lingering hurt remained in your tone despite how desperately you wanted to be rid of it. You didn’t want to think of yourself as a forgotten pet standing in the middle of the kitchen but it was almost how you felt.
“Never,” he promised with complete sincerity. “But I thought you might want to have some more alone time with Izou. He’s been looking lonely, you know.”
No, he hadn’t. And Thatch never pushed you toward Izou, insisting that he could come and get you if that’s what he wanted. You stared at him, trying to figure out what problem you had caused… or if he even knew what was going on.
You leaned against the edge of the cleaning station. “I don’t like this whole cold Thatch,” you pointed out. “I like my Thatch.”
He froze for a second, a slight cough you hadn’t seen from him before. “Cold?” he repeated with a slight chuckle. “I spoil you far too much if you think this is cold.”
“It’s still not right.”
As though he couldn’t help himself, Thatch sighed and reached out, hand lingering on your cheek for just a second as though imitating brushing hair from your face. The familiar movement soothed you just enough that you could pretend to not notice the hesitation before he moved away again.
“You’re too stressed,” he said. “It looks like you’re about to snap.”
And you wanted to tell him. You should tell Thatch because he’d never given you anything more than a good-natured tease in response to your mild infatuation with Izou.
But you couldn’t.
Instead, you stepped forward and threw your arms around him, squeezing him in the tightest hug you’d ever given him. Possibly the only proper hug you’d ever given him now that you thought about it but he didn’t hesitate to respond.
Warm arms wrapped around you immediately, tucking you into his broad chest as you buried your face in his coat.
“I can send somebody to get Izou,” he offered.
“No.”
You closed your eyes and sunk into him, content to feel the warmth radiating from him. Thatch rubbed slowly over your back.
“Sugar,” he said eventually. “What’s got you this worked up, hm? You were fine yesterday.”
“There’s too much going on now,” you muttered. “Ace is being weird. Izou is being weird. You’re being weird.”
He huffed. “Izou’s not being strange but why don’t you go talk to Ace? I’m sure you can smooth things over with him in an instant.”
“Maybe.”
Thatch’s hand moved slowly along your back once more before he eased away enough to look down at you. “Hi.”
“Hey,” you said back on instinct. “I’ve upset you and I want to know why.”
He chuckled softly. “You haven’t. Don’t start stressing about me now too.”
Thatch brushed his thumb once lightly beneath your eye before stepping back fully this time.
“Go on,” he said gently. “Before Ace walks his way into an early grave.”
“He’s fine,” you grumbled.
“He spent more time watching you than eating this morning. And you know I won’t pressure you about it but I don’t want him getting into things with Izou. He’s not gracious about those kinds of challenges.”
“He wouldn’t.”
“Wouldn’t he?”
It was strange to leave the galley and feel relief but it seemed the entire of the ship was out to cause you as much distress as possible. Or perhaps that was you causing the problems. After all, you had been the one who started everything.
Not that you regretted either of them. Seas knew you had wanted to kiss Izou for years now and it was everything you wanted. And Ace’s excitement set your heart blazing.
But the guilt of it was a little too heavy to talk to him about it now.
You could find Ace easily but you didn’t bother him, telling yourself it was in respect of Marco’s request and not because you were running on little sleep and far more cowardice than was strictly nervous. With most of the commanders busy, you ended up relaxing with Namur instead, talking about a few glimmering fish species you’d seen swimming around the bow.
“If you’re still here next time we dock, I’ll take you to some of the reefs around whichever island we’re on,” he said. “I think you’ll like the views if you’re willing to put up with some unpleasantness.”
“As long as you don’t let me drown, I think we’ll be fine.”
On the ship, Whitebeard had requested you tell only one about your devil fruit to begin with, just in case you ever met a bad situation. Namur’s knowledge might quickly get you out of trouble if you needed.
It wasn’t a secret as much as nobody had asked and... to be honest, you knew it was something you should probably mention.
It just wasn’t high on your priorities yet.
“As long as it’s no trouble,” you said. “I would love to see the reefs. Just remember I might be a bit of dead weight in the water.”
“It’s not a problem,” he said. “At least I don’t have to drag you out of the ocean every other day because you forgot that you can’t swim.”
You laughed behind your hand. “I wonder who you’re referring to.”
Namur looked pointedly over your shoulder and you didn’t even need to look to recognise the leisurely steps approaching.
“What are you guys talking about?”
You turned to Ace, feeling the way your heart throbbed when he aimed a beaming grin at you. He really was far too handsome for his own good. You had a feeling he could get away with a lot of things with the right smile.
“Marine life,” you said. “And how often you fall off the ship.”
He flushed at that, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not that often. Only when I fall asleep on watch or something.”
Namur shook his head. “Yesterday, you were not asleep. You were trying to balance on the railings.”
“Well, Vista wanted me to train my balance so…”
“Speaking of,” Namur said, standing. “I do need to speak to Vista about an axe he was repairing for me. I need to catch him before he gets distracted.”
You nodded as he walked off, silently cursing that you had been dumped into the situation you were avoiding. But it would be alright. You could talk about nonsense fairly easily and you were sure Ace would oblige you.
“I heard about you and Izou.”
Or he would jump straight into it. You almost laughed.
“What about me and Izou?” you asked.
He hopped onto the railing beside you with the same reckless ease that always made your stomach tighten a little. Wind pushed through his hair while the ocean rolled endlessly beneath him, dark water catching streaks of sunlight every time the ship shifted.
“Teach told me there’s a betting ring going on. Apparently, everybody thinks you’re going to start dating Izou. Or Thatch but uh… less so, I think.”
Oh, was that back again?
You leaned forward onto your elbows and shook your head. “That ring’s been going on for ages. I think Jozu has so much invested, he can retire on the winnings.”
Ace laughed and a breeze almost stole his hat though he caught it with ease. “What if he loses?”
“I don’t think he’s planned that far ahead.”
Ace gave you a mischievous look. “Who’s he got money on?”
You were a little apprehensive of how well Ace seemed to be taking this. Given his reaction to Thatch the day before, you’d been concerned he might be a little more… well, you weren’t sure what exact emotion you’d expected but this wasn’t it.
“I don’t know,” you admitted. “You’d have to ask him. I always thought the whole thing was a bit stupid. Used to have Marco on my case about it too.”
“Why would it be your fault?”
You shrugged. “Have you met Marco? He’d blame the weather on me if he could.”
“Ha, probably. I wonder if he’s got a bet on anything… Maybe I should ask.”
“Please don’t.”
Ace grinned as though your exasperated request had been his end goal anyway. “I think I’m going to start keeping a book or something about who’s betting on who. Want to see it when I’m done?”
You had to admit to some mild curiosity even if it was at your own expense. “Maybe. You’re not bothered by it?”
“Nah, why would I be? It doesn’t matter because they’re all probably going to lose.”
“Oh really? How are you so sure about that?”
“Because I’m not giving up.”
Ace leaned closer as he said it, grin softer now, something earnest sitting beneath all the teasing confidence. Close enough that if you turned your head even slightly, you thought he might kiss you again just because he wanted to.
You looked to him, humoured with the intensity he said to it. “Giving up on what?”
“You,” he said. “You’ve known Izou for longer but why does that matter? I like you and you kissed me so I’m not going to go away just because he’s been on the ship more?”
You laughed, mildly disbelieving at how forwardly he said it. Nobody ever acknowledged that you had two commanders vying for your attention – not openly at least – but Ace announced it without even a second of shame.
“You’re so sweet,” you teased. “That makes you quite dangerous for my heart, Fire Fist”
He grinned, confident and relaxed, stretching like a cat to the point where you thought he might tip back over the railing. “I was thinking about it,” he said. “I thought about leaving it alone but that lasted like… maybe an hour. Sorry though, about the thing yesterday with Thatch. I know he’s just sort of like that so I shouldn’t have been weird about it.”
Had that been what caused Thatch’s strange behaviour? You doubted it but you supposed anything was possible.
“It’s fine,” you reassured.
“I didn’t mess anything up with you guys, did I? You haven’t been there for most of the day and you normally never leave. I went looking for you earlier but… Thatch seemed off.”
“I know,” you said. “Thatch is off. I just don’t know why.”
“Did I get to him that bad? He seemed normal after I said it.”
“He was,” you agreed. “And he’s never been that upset about other people uh, saying things about me, I guess. Izou does it all the time. Hell, they were literally at it again this morning but then he just stopped.”
“It’s weird. Maybe he – ”
“I knew I would find you out here.”
You had no idea which of you Marco’s comment was aimed at but the shift in atmosphere was immediate regardless. Ace straightened slightly beside you while Marco approached across the deck. At least it was a change in topic. And you had to admit; you’d been missing out on hearing his complaints throughout the day.
“I’m considering jumping into the ocean,” you commented. “Why don’t you join me for a swim, birdy?”
He gave you a flat look. “Hilarious. If you want to get swallowed by a sea king, I’ll find an easier way for you to do it.”
But he looked far more relaxed than he had the day before, more annoyed than anything else which was exactly what you had hoped for. It meant things felt better. Or at least, as good as they could ever be when Marco was looking to be a headache for you.
He was a predictable headache. You appreciated it.
“Don’t suppose Whitebeard needs me?” you asked.
“No,” he said firmly. “Pops is doing much better today than he has in a while.”
“Good to hear.”
Marco’s glasses caught slightly in the light as he gave you a look. “Ace, did you finish all your reports today?”
“No.”
You made a hum, admitting to yourself that you might be poking at Marco slightly now. “Commander talk around me? That’s flattering. Wasn’t it last visit when you ordered the entire ship to stop discussing mission plans around me? Or was it the one before that?”
He always bit when you taunted him, turning his attention to you. “Reports are hardly of any importance. Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Aw but I love flattery.”
He rolled his eyes. “Go bother the fourth division for a while. They seem willing to indulge you.”
You flinched a little at that. He’d made the comment a thousand times before, mainly focused on how much Thatch flirted with you, but it felt odd with everything going on. And he noticed because he noticed far too much, especially when you didn’t want him to.
“Or I’m sure Pops would entertain you. He does enjoy charity,” he continued.
You scoffed, more comfortable with that remark. “No need to be jealous. You can’t be the favourite child all the time.”
“Why can’t she hear about plans?” Ace asked, speaking before Marco could retort to the taunt and he sounded actually annoyed. “I mean, she’s been around here for a long time.”
Marco frowned, clearly as surprised about the sudden interjection as you were. He gave Ace a stern look. “That’s not a decision you get to make. Your position on this crew is important enough that you should understand prudence.”
“So can I talk about the second division then?”
“No. There’s a balance and part of that is not letting strangers understand the intricacies of how the ship works.”
Ace rolled his eyes and hopped off the railing. “You’re literally the only person who thinks she’s a stranger. Everybody else talks about her as though she’s trusted.”
Marco’s expression tightened. “Everybody else is not an automatic judgement.”
“Pops even likes her!”
“Can you two remember that ‘she’ is actually here?” you asked but neither of them seemed to actually hear you.
“I respect Pop’s opinions,” Marco said. “But you don’t have the background for anything here. You’ve seen a very small snippet of how this situation works.”
“I just don’t get it. Hell, people are betting on when she’ll join the crew and you’re the only person who seems to think that she’s secretly a spy. Why can’t you just tell me what the issue is?”
“Ace,” you warned and he quietened for a second, glancing at you. “Leave it.”
Marco sighed and you looked toward him, already ready to challenge him if he continued. But he met your gaze, glare sharp enough to burn through you. You didn’t flinch away, shoulders squared and waiting.
“Finish your reports before you start trying to lecture me about judgement,” Marco said, voice very cool.
“That’s not a reason,” Ace muttered.
“No,” Marco agreed. “It’s not.”
He turned and walked away.
You sighed and shook your head. The tension on this ship was going to suffocate you at some point, you swore it. At this point, Whitebeard might kick you off the ship just for inciting this level of chaos.
“I still don’t get him,” Ace said.
“You are far from the only one.”
Interlude
Izou sat on a bench, one leg bent loosely as he cleaned one of his pistols beneath the lanternlight. The deck was quieter this far back on the ship; mostly just the creak of wood and the distant wash of the sea against the hull.
The pistol was clean. It had been for the past few hours. But he hadn’t put it down yet.
He looked up as Thatch approached, expression unchanged. “You look miserable.”
“Thanks,” Thatch said with a half-laugh. “I’ve been told I’m not too good at hiding things.”
That got a faint hum from Izou. He set the cloth down finally; the pistol still rested atop his lap. “I assume you’re here to congratulate me or something?”
“Something like that.”
Izou inclined his head while he waited. Then he shrugged. “She kissed Ace first.”
Thatch’s knee bumped hard into the railing. “What?”
“You didn’t know?”
“She kissed Ace?”
Izou nodded and Thatch straightened. “No wonder… but wait, no, hold on. The two of you this morning?”
“I kissed her afterwards. Obviously.”
“Obviously,” Thatch repeated as though the word wasn’t shattering by itself. “Then does that mean, you know?”
“That I won?” Izou asked. “I wasn’t aware this was a game of cards.”
Thatch rubbed a hand down his face. “When you say it like that, it sounds stupid.”
“It is.”
“Oh, shut up.”
Izou’s mouth curved faintly, the edge of something sharper sitting beneath it. “It would probably be better for everybody if you hadn’t started avoiding her because of it.”
“I’m not avoiding her,” Thatch said with a frown.
“Really? Then why are you here instead of trying to get her to taste test some random concoction?”
He looked toward the sea, his jaw tightening slightly. “I knew something had happened,” he said. “She kissed you.”
“She did. And?” Izou sounded deeply unimpressed now, like Thatch was refusing to answer an obvious question correctly.
Thatch laughed quietly under his breath. “Come on, Izou. You know what this is.”
“No,” Izou said simply. “I don’t think I do.”
Thatch looked over at him properly, faintly annoyed now. His expression was unreadable, half-shadowed by the night but still poised.
“She chose you. We knew that was how it was going to go, didn’t we? Most of the crew has money on the two of you. Hell, that’s where I put my bet.” It sounded strangely embarrassing to admit it aloud. “And when it ended, you knew I’d make it easy on both of you.”
Something in Izou’s expression tightened at that.
“She’s not a prize I won from you.”
“I know that.”
“Do you?”
Thatch went quiet. If you chose Izou fully someday, Thatch could survive it. He loved Izou too. The shape of that future had never frightened him.
But Ace… that one was strange because he had simply reached.
No hesitation. No years spent carefully swallowing things down into something manageable. No standing off to the side and convincing himself that wanting was enough on its own.
He had just taken the chance.
And for the first time in years, Thatch found himself wondering what might have happened if he had done the same.
Izou watched him carefully for a long moment before sighing softly. “You’re an idiot.”
Thatch barked out a startled laugh. “That’s harsh.”
“It’s true.” Izou picked up the pistol again, checking the chamber with practiced ease. “I never asked you to disappear.”
“It’s out of respect.”
“Sure. Not just because you’re a coward.”
Thatch shook his head with another laugh but it faded quickly. “You really don’t mind?”
“If she decides she wants only me someday, I trust you to survive it.” His gaze sharpened slightly. “But I do not need you punishing both of yourselves in preparation for a future that has not even happened.” Then, after a moment, Izou added smoothly, “Besides, if she kissed Ace first, I hardly think any of us should start acting possessive yet.”
“You are never letting that go, are you?”
“Absolutely not. She will never live it down.”
Tags: @miwn8 ; @rubyninja1 ; @etherealroguedrifter ; @mugiiwara-ya
Whenever it looks like I'm going to have a period of utter boredom at work, I like to fiddle around and plan out which multi-chapter story I'm going to write after Ghost in the Machine.
And I have four ideas! So I'd love to see what people think:
Which Would You Be Most Interested In?
Marco x SpadePirates!Reader: Set while Ace is still trying to kill Whitebeard
Luffy x Reader: You've never met in person but you send letters constantly.
Kid x Royal!Reader: Kid is the last person to fall for a princess. Right?
Ace x Marine!Reader x Sabo: They don't know it but they're both stressing you.
If I start them all... uh... it's not my fault.
Ghost In The Machine (Ace x Reader) - Part 9
One Piece | Ace | 4.0k | Masterlist
You waited for Sabo in your temporary room, sitting on the bed and paging through the worn chapters of your journal when Ace slumped against you. You startled at the sudden weight against your back, heat pressing heavily against you as he buried his face into your neck and snored once.
“Ace?” you asked, twisting to see the mop of black hair rested heavily on your shoulder.
He didn’t move and panic slipped through you for a second. You shrugged to try and adjust him and he grumbled before responding, his voice thick.
“What’s wrong?”
“Are you okay?” you asked. “You just fell asleep.”
“I did?” he rubbed his eyes but didn’t move, his voice almost muffled against your shoulder. “It’s okay. I do that.”
“You do that?” you repeated.
“Sleep randomly. Marco called it, uh, something. I’m good though ‘cause it’s not serious or anything.”
Your heartrate calmed significantly and you shook your head at him. He’d just about given you heart failure with that. Sure, it wasn’t like he could be dying, but you didn’t know everything about the dead.
“That’s not detailed,” you teased. “But next time we’re on Sphinx Island, I’m asking him about it.”
Ace laughed softly. “It’s just sleeping. I can’t even remember the last time it happened. Must have been Alabasta maybe? It stops when I get worked up so ‘s been a while.”
You shook your head. “So, I should expect this more often?”
“Probably. It’s your fault, anyway.”
“Mine?”
“Mm. You’re too comfortable.”
Embarrassment curled in your stomach briefly but you replaced it with a soft laugh. Ace shifted further against you, his chin digging into your shoulder as he leaned heavier on your back. You almost toppled yourself, moving to the side so he wasn’t about to crush you.
“Well, you should try and wake up before we go,” you told him. “Unless you want to stay and sleep more?”
“It’s not like I have a choice, really.”
You huffed and ran your fingers through his hair awkwardly. “Yes, you do. Sabo will understand if I ask for a few more days before we go. I’m not critically low on supplies yet.”
Ace sighed dramatically but sat up, shook his head and seemingly bounced back to his normal tone without a problem. “It’s fine,” he said. “This stuff wears off quickly when I need it to. Why do I even need to sleep when I’m dead?”
“I have no idea.” You turned around to find him still slightly bleary-eyed but most certainly awake, the faintest of smiles on his face. “It’s a market so they’re going to have food. Got any requests for what I can get you?”
“You going to bring it back here?”
“Don’t be silly, we’ll find some time to send it across.”
The door opened before he could answer. Sabo’s broad grin was unmatched beneath his hat. “Ship’s here,” he told you cheerily. “And Koala says I probably managed to get everything done today so we’ll have no trouble.”
“Probably?” you asked.
He sighed and shook his head. “You should see the list of things I need to get done. I get eye strain just looking at it.”
“The pains of being so important,” you teased. “Everybody needs your signature.”
Ace snorted softly under his breath but when you glanced to him, he wasn’t even looking at you.
“Tell me about it,” Sabo continued as though he hadn’t seen you look away. “But I’ll meet you downstairs?”
“I won’t be a minute.”
His eyes flicked around the room for a second, searching, before he stepped out. You sighed, wondering if you should have let him know where Ace was. But you couldn’t keep doing that forever, especially because Ace himself didn’t seem to worry too much about it.
You got off the bed and grabbed his hand with your working one, tugging him to his feet. “Come on. I can’t swim there if we miss our trip.”
The moment you arrived, you realised a festival was going on. Food stalls crowded the already narrow streets, smoke curling thickly into the air from grills packed shoulder-to-shoulder. People spilled across the cobblestones in noisy waves, brushing against each other as music rattled from small wooden stages wedged between market stands. You couldn’t help a quiet breath of disbelief at how tightly packed the streets were.
“Sabo,” you asked. “Is there another path or are we just going to have to go straight through?”
You stood close to him, watching the way he surveyed the crowds before he grinned awkwardly. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “This isn’t normally my job so I don’t visit often.”
Ace pressed close against your back the second you stepped off the ship, close enough that heat bled through your clothes, but even that wasn’t enough to stop people from walking straight through him.
The air smelled heavily of salt, grilled meat, and far too many people pressed together in the afternoon heat. The decorations of the town might be beautiful when evening arrived but not with these crowds. Not when most of them couldn’t even see you.
“You take me to lovely places,” you informed Sabo.
“I know, it’s an excellent start to the sales pitch I was told to give you.”
At least the crowds parted for him with relative ease. A man shoved past without looking and his shoulder clipped your injured wrist hard enough to send pain sharply up your arm. Ace said something that was lost over the crowd and Sabo slipped an arm around your shoulders, moving you out of the way.
“Careful,” he warned.
The man offered you a quick apology and disappeared into the crowd again. You shook your head and kept closer to Sabo who was at least tall enough to demand some space.
“People don’t notice me properly,” you told him. “It’s a side effect of the fruit.”
“Really?”
You nodded. “Unless I make myself known, the living struggle to see me as well as the dead do.”
Sabo inclined his head as though impressed. “Sounds like a good side effect to deal with. Useful too, if you decide to work with us.”
“Still trying to get that sales pitch in, aren’t you?” you joked.
“I was told to do it naturally,” he said. “In my defence.”
The warmth on your shoulders was fading enough to notice and you twisted your head to look for Ace. He’d drifted back from you a little, his shoulders drawn tight and trying pointedly to just stare ahead as another person passed through him. You winced in sympathy but even reaching for him was going to be difficult.
You stopped for just a second to let him catch up and then laced your fingers with his.
“Stay close as you can,” you said.
He startled, hold on your hand tightening before his expression softened. “This sucks,” he muttered.
“You’re not a fan of crowds?”
“That’s not it,” he said. “I love these kinds of things. It would be fine if I was alive.”
You watched him for a second, saw which stalls his gaze lingered on and made a soft sound of realisation. “Well,” you said. “I can’t get people to stop walking through you but I think I have an idea. Sabo, mind if we grab some skewers?”
The blond blinked at you. “For Ace?”
“Who else?”
Sabo beamed. “I know the best ones.”
He didn’t lie to you; he made his way through the tight crowds and directly to a stall lined with skewers still crackling over the heat, glaze shining beneath the flames while the smell of charred meat and spice curled thickly through the air. And almost no customers gathered around it which was suspicious until you saw the pricing on them.
You were still blinking at the large number when Sabo ordered at least four of each and even more of the premium ones.
“I didn’t know revo – your work paid this well,” you commented.
“Work definitely doesn’t,” he told you. “But I’ve found that some people don’t always think about changing the permissions for beri withdrawals. Not even after what, twenty years?”
You had little idea who he was referencing but you certainly wouldn’t complain.
“Anyway, it’s for Ace so the price doesn’t matter.”
Ace grumbled something under his breath and you turned to him. “He doesn’t have to do that,” he repeated, loud enough for you to hear.
“I’m sure he knows,” you said.
Ace looked over your shoulder towards Sabo and he breathed out with a slight huff. “Could you tell him thank you?”
You smiled, pleased to be able to accurately translate something for once. “He’s saying thank you,” you told Sabo who immediately grinned so wide it had to have hurt.
The next challenge came in finding space big enough to draw a circle for the amount of food you now had but eventually you squeezed into a small, forgotten square adjacent to the market and managed to pile them onto a big sheet, handing several to Sabo before you sent them over. He found a seat against the wall and watched you curiously.
He even sat the same way as his brother, you noticed, one leg folded and the other propped up.
“So, once you’ve sent it to the dead realm or whatever, is it gone for good?”
“For you, yes,” you said. “Not so much for me because I can still interact with it but you could walk through here and you’d just pass through everything.”
“That’s pretty neat. I can see why you’re short on supplies though.”
“It does use them up pretty fast if I do it too often.”
Ace huffed and sat down next to the circle. “Then you should stop doing it multiple times a day.”
“Not a chance,” you told him. “It’s worth it.”
He stopped complaining once you passed him the first one and clearly it was good because you didn’t hear a word of upset from him afterwards. You happily took your spot next to him, only a short distance away, but Ace wrapped an arm around your waist and tugged you closer until your body was flush against him.
“Here, try this.”
You reached for the skewer by yourself only for him to move it away from your hand. You sighed and rolled your eyes, taking a bite of the perfectly charred meat.
“It is very good,” you admitted.
“I know it must be something you hear often,” Sabo said. “But it’s quite entertaining to see you interact with something invisible.”
“Entertaining isn’t one I’ve heard before,” you answered. “Strange and disturbing are far more common. People really hate the idea that there might be something around that they don’t know about.”
Ace scoffed. “It’s not that weird. They’re just being stupid.”
“You two are always like this though?”
You frowned at Sabo. “Always like what?”
His expression betrayed no hint of malice or disappointment, only benign curiosity. “So close? It helps me see him but is that normal?”
“Yeah,” Ace said as though it was the simplest thing in the world.
You coughed slightly, rubbing your chest as you realised that Ace was very much pressed against your side still. “It’s not normal for other spirits I meet but I’ve made plenty of exceptions lately.”
Sabo leaned back against the wall behind him and nodded. “That’s good. I’m happy he has somebody to trust after everything.”
You smiled, trying to hide the melting feeling in your chest, and let your eyes drift over the crowded marketplace again while Ace demolished the food. Crowds spilled across every street; banners fluttered overhead and you saw at least two stalls with supplies you could use before something stood out.
A small symbol, sewn in the corner of a high-flying flag on a cart a little off the main street.
Your stomach dropped hard enough to hurt. You knew that symbol as an informant network you’d used before and you weren’t surprised it was here – they had people spread everywhere – but with it came a dangerous thought.
One that you shouldn’t have entertained for longer than a few seconds but Ace was close, you could feel him moving against your side, and the opportunity lingered in your head for far too long.
“Everything okay?”
“Yes,” you said, your attention turning to Sabo. “But I think I see my source of supplies. Can I have a moment alone?”
Concern crossed his expression instantly. “Sure. Do you want me to stay nearby?”
“Yes,” you said. “Just not too nearby. I need to talk about something with Ace too.”
Sabo inclined his head respectfully and stepped away. You looked around the alley rapidly, scanning every inch to be sure that nobody was listening in on what you had to say. Your heart should not have been beating this fast but it was loud in your chest.
“Are you alright?” Ace asked.
You steeled yourself. First, you needed details and he was the only one who could give them to you. To see if it was even possible before you paid for useless supplies.
“This is going to be sudden,” you warned. “But it’s important and I’m not going to be able to explain why I need to know. So… I’m going to need just a little bit of trust.”
Ace shrugged, clearly not at all bothered by the obvious panic in you. His grin was lopsided and his attention focused on the food. You prayed silently that what you were about to ask wasn’t going to ruin this moment.
“Kinda late to doubt you now.”
You hated the guilt that brought with but you forced the question out. “I need to know what killed you. Specifically.”
His smile disappeared in an instant, expression turning ashen in a way that you hated. You saw the way tension returned to him, his body wound tight.
“Not every detail,” you hurried to say, hoping to at least do some form of damage control. “Just who or what caused you that.”
You looked down at the injury despite yourself, something you usually avoided to the best of your ability. The warped flesh curled blackened around the open space through him, the very nature of it making your stomach churn.
Ace shifted slightly to cover it. “Why? Did you hear something?”
“No,” you said, refocusing on his eyes instead, pleading for him to know you didn’t mean to bring this up now. “No, I know nothing but that’s why I’m asking you.”
“Does it matter?”
“Right now, yes.”
He hesitated before he muttered under his breath. “Admiral Akainu,” he said.
There was a strange regret in his voice, not quite the anger you had expected. You shifted even closer, hoping the press of your shoulder could give him what little comfort you might offer. It was a person.
Somehow, despite that being the answer you wanted, it felt unsuccessful next to Ace’s expression.
“Thank you,” you said.
He shrugged loosely, picking up one of the skewers again. “I was stupid. It was my fault. We were out and everybody worked so hard for it too.” He laughed once, rough and thin. “I turned around.”
You reached for him and he folded into you instantly, the food dropping from his hand as he pressed his face hard against your shoulder. The grip on you turned tight enough to hurt. Heat flared unevenly around him, burning hot for a second before it dulled again.
A name was enough.
You could work with a name. You only wished it had been somebody a little easier to get close to but it was fine.
You stayed like that for a while, listening to the noise of the festival spill faintly down the alleyway. Music drifted somewhere nearby, muffled beneath conversation and laughter, painfully normal against the way Ace clung to you.
His breathing wasn’t real. You knew that. Ghosts did not need air in their lungs and yet you still felt every uneven exhale against your shoulder.
Your fingers curled tightly.
No. You could not accept this one quietly.
Ace let go of you after a few minutes and you gracefully ignored the red rimming his eyes. Each painful heartbeat that passed brought more certainty to your mind as you made your way to the merchant.
Ordering was easy.
You knew what you wanted and you chose your incense and scribbled a code onto a piece of paper, sliding it to the old woman behind the stall. She looked it over and pulled a face, tapping her nail thoughtfully against the table.
“A month. Maybe two.”
“Excuse me?” you repeated.
“One of a kind component,” she said as though that made it better. “Going to have to send somebody to get it. It’ll be expensive too.”
You pinched the bridge of your nose. A month was already pushing it to keep a ghost stable. And Ace had already been with you for weeks now. It wouldn’t be easy but it would be fine, it would give you time to gather everything else. You repeated that in your head.
“Name the price.”
She said an eye-wateringly high number and Ace gawked at you. “What are you ordering? A hit?”
“That might have been cheaper,” you muttered. “But I must have it for the ritual. Give me the order form.”
It wasn’t like it was binding but you knew the man in charge of this network was very sticky with his nonsense. Dread swirled deep in your stomach as you took it from her, the pen hovering above the paper as you stared at it.
If you did this, you were locking yourself into a problem that would be far from easy. Ace leaned over you, curious about what you were signing and the warmth of his chest against your arm made signing far easier than it should have.
The pen scraped harshly across the paper and something deep in your stomach twisted with every letter.
“Same location for delivery?” she asked. “Or do you want it here?”
“I’ll pick it up from here,” you said. “One month.”
“Maybe two.”
“Try for one.”
You bought a small wooden token alongside the rest, handing it to Ace through the same circle you’d used earlier. Thankfully, it seemed nobody had disturbed it while you shopped and you sat down once more, your heart pounding in your chest.
Before Ace could comment on your obvious nerves, you offered him the token. He twirled it in his hands.
“What’s this for?”
“It’s a wish token,” you said. “It’s supposed to bring luck.”
And though you’d never felt like you needed one before, you were going to need as much as you could get in a month’s time.
“What did you wish for?”
“A cute ghost,” you teased. “But seeing as I already got mine, I thought maybe you could use it.”
He made a short, barking laugh, the edges of his ears twinged with red but he tucked the token away in his pocket regardless. “You can’t just say things like that.”
“Who’s going to stop me?”
At least the tension had broken. It felt slightly more normal now. You stared at the chalk circle smeared faintly beneath your boots, white dust dragged across the stone from where people had nearly stepped through it earlier, and imagined what it would look like to simply place something into Ace’s hands without rituals or circles between you. What had taken his life hadn’t been fair. Death never was but this… this was important.
By the time you looked back toward Ace, he had finished all the food and his head dipped slightly. You giggled behind your hand.
“Sleeping again?” you asked.
“What? Nah…”
“Sure.”
He looked deeply offended but you saw his head dip and you moved closer, waiting for it already.
“Don’t laugh,” he complained.
He slumped forward without warning, full weight dropping against you fast enough that you barely caught him before his cheek knocked awkwardly against your collarbone. You winced and adjusted him so he was sleeping easier against your chest; his back could not be comfortable with that angle but it was fine.
“Alright,” you said quietly. “You’re so lucky you’re not going to get stiff muscles like this.”
How long you sat there with Ace sleeping against your chest, you weren’t entirely sure but when you heard approaching boots, you smiled at Sabo.
“He fell asleep,” you said, nervous the words would wake Ace but they did very little. “Apparently this is a thing he does?”
Sabo chuckled and took a seat next to you, a considerable distance further than Ace sat. “The narcolepsy? Yeah, he’s done that since we were kids. Luffy imitated it for so many years because he wanted to fit in.”
You brushed a few strands of hair from Ace’s face, fingers gently brushing over the small bruise under his cheek.
It was an ugly, yellowing thing but you hesitated before stealing another injury. He would not be happy if you took anything off him but still, you were tempted. He should have only freckles on his face, not cuts.
“You’re not meant to get this attached to spirits, I’d assume?” Sabo asked. “If you’re meant to make them move on?”
You huffed. “No. I’m not. But your brother’s too charming for his own good.”
“Is he… was he happy? Before everything happened? I never found out much about what he was doing before.”
“I think so,” you admitted. “And I think he was but he’s not very interested in sharing anything about what happened. I don’t blame him. Death is very traumatic.”
Sabo nodded. “I still struggle to believe he’s gone. Ace wasn’t the one that died, you know? He’s far too strong for that.”
“Anybody can die,” you said. “But…”
You hesitated and looked toward the blond. You needed an ally. It would make things far easier if you did but you didn’t want to get any hopes up. Not when you were still figuring out the finer details.
“But?” he repeated.
“I need to complete a ritual,” you said. “Or I’m hoping to.”
He straightened immediately as though he could read your mind. You winced, trying your hardest not to be obvious even if part of you wanted to eagerly talk to somebody about this. To discuss the finer details.
“What would it do?”
“I… do you need to know that to help me fulfil it?”
There was a very loaded pause. Sabo’s gaze flicked to your hand, undoubtedly resting awkwardly above your chest from what he could see. You waited and then he smiled.
A far-too-knowing smile.
“If there’s even a chance, I want in. So what do you need?”
You smiled in return, uncertain but bordering on pleased. “It’s a close timeline,” you admitted. “But I need to get it done as soon as possible. I’ve ordered one thing, I need to find a way to get the other, and then… then I need to go to Marineford. I need to visit the spot he died.”
Sabo froze and you ran a hand gently over Ace’s hair, hoping desperately that sleep kept him from hearing you discuss it. He snored softly against your skin.
“What’s there?”
“If we travel there, it’s where he’ll be closest to life,” you said. “And if there’s any chance of this working, we need to be there.”
“Is there a chance?” he asked.
“A small one,” you admitted. “A very, very difficult one.”
He gave you a look from the corner of his eye, tapping against his boot before he nodded. “In our line of work, odds are always quite poor. A chance is still a chance. I can probably pull some strings. Have you told him?”
“Not yet.”
“Seems like something you should mention.”
“I don’t want to get his hopes up if it might fail,” you said.
Sabo gave you a look. “It doesn’t matter if it does. I know Ace. Trust me, he’d rather know you tried.”
“He doesn’t deserve more disappointment.”
“I don’t think he’ll see it that way.”
They were as stubborn as each other. And Sabo, unfortunately, was probably right.
Tag List: @miwn8 ; @infinitely-creative ; @grapeboom ; @baa3baa3 ; @isabelleslastwords ; @sukiraterhouse ; @vicky-minaj ; @thesleepinglion ; @literallyjustvibin23 ; @uroldall ; @urbbyfacedangel ; @aceincase ; @kyomiforest ; @doljjongsmom ; @kermitprime ; @lawpetitemort ; @vvyeislazzy
Just in Case (Sabo x Reader)
One Piece | Sabo | 4.4k | Masterlist
You were not following Sabo. You were simply walking through the marketplace with a perfectly innocent interest in the familiar blue coat moving between stalls, and if your steps happened to match his path a little too closely, nobody needed to comment on it.
He noticed you immediately. For all your attempts at surprising him, he turned in a heartbeat as though he could hear your steps over the crowded marketplace. Storm grey eyes met your own and you couldn’t help but smile.
“I had a feeling I might bump into you here.”
“Really?” you asked and stepped closer to him. The crowd split around you, occasional looks thrown your way but you stayed rooted where you were. “Your observation haki must be truly masterful. Or you read my letters.”
He chuckled and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “I didn’t receive any official letter.”
“Did you forget to read it before burning it again?”
He huffed in slight offense. “That happened once and I hadn’t slept for four days. I actually don’t even burn the others. I keep them in my desk drawer.”
You raised an eyebrow, already knowing how that would end. “Hopefully not near your regular paperwork.”
“If somebody finds it while digging through my personal belongings, I won’t even need to reprimand them. The embarrassment would be punishment enough.”
“Or you’re going to be asked why your informant is sending such dirty letters.”
“It’s written in code,” he said as though it was the simplest answer in the world.
You laughed quietly. “One hell of a code. Maybe we should continue using it for this conversation too? Might be fun.”
Sabo laughed and kissed you properly, his breath warm where it mingled with yours. “Business first. Before I’m accused of being distracted.”
He tried to move back but you caught the edge of cravat between your fingers before he could. He let you pull him in for a second kiss, one that lingered even longer than the first.
“To tide me over,” you told him.
“Come on,” he said though he didn’t move away from you. “I’ve already started a fire at the house. It should be warming the room up nicely so you don’t freeze anymore. And we should probably stop blocking the main road through the marketplace.”
You pecked him once more for good luck before you stepped away.
The walk itself was familiar. You’d visited this island before and often enough that it might even compromise your position but you found little true care about that. Sabo’s hand brushed the small of your back whenever the crowds thickened too heavily, guiding you through the streets with certainty while you stole glances at him that made him smile.
He hadn’t been lying. The safehouse was warm enough that the chill clinging to your sleeves began to loosen the moment you stepped inside, the low crackle of firewood filling the small room that held not much more than a tiny kitchen, a couch, and a bed tucked too close to everything else. You slipped your shoes off near the door while Sabo shrugged his coat from his shoulders and tossed it carelessly over the blankets, already crouching near the fireplace to coax the flames higher.
You wandered closer, grateful for the warmth. “You’re becoming more domestic the more I leave you alone.”
“I’ve been practising,” he said with a proud smile. “Cooking too. Koala’s been my taste tester.”
“Send her my sympathies.”
“You’ve said my cooking is good,” he protested as he stood.
“Lying is quite literally my job.”
You smiled despite yourself and followed him to the couch, settling firmly against his side the moment he sat. He rested an arm loosely around your waist and for a second, you let yourself sit there without thinking about reports or uniforms or the base waiting for you across the sea. There was only the crackling fire, the weight of him beside you, and the warmth slowly working its way back into your hands.
Then Sabo sighed, his voice slipping into the more clipped and formal tone he used in meetings. “I did have a reason to request we meet up,” he said. “Your last letter concerned me. There’s potential trouble with your cover?”
“My commanding officer,” you said. “Has propositioned me twice now.”
“He has?”
You nodded, a slight cold slipping under your skin despite the heat from the fireplace. “I’ve not outwardly rejected it yet because it might provide a good opportunity. With the right sway, I can have access to private records.”
Sabo tapped his fingers against your hip, expression unreadable. “That could work,” he said. “But it would be a dangerous escalation. You’d have to create a pattern before taking anything to avoid suspicion.”
You didn’t like it and you’d be a fool to think he would either.
“It would ruin everything if I was caught,” you said. “I’m thinking I just continue with regular integration.”
“The only difference will be the speed. You might gain more ground if you play into it but you’ve gotten far without needing this kind of sway.”
You hummed and adjusted your seat, pushing closer into his side and wishing, just for a second, that there was nothing to be gained from being inside this marine base. That you could say to hell with it and make your way back into your warm bed.
“Unfortunately, there is one other problem,” you said. “I’m getting the idea that I might end up transferred if I reject it.”
Sabo’s expression twisted. “That’s considerably more problematic.”
“I know.”
He ran his fingers along the side of your body, tracing patterns along your hip as he thought. “You’re the best person for us to have in that base but… there are limits to what we can ask of you. This isn’t worth it.”
“I didn’t think so either but I knew I should mention it to somebody.”
Technically, it shouldn’t have been Sabo. You had a reporting officer in the army who you were meant to transmit your information through but if there was even a chance of being recommended to go for it… so you’d sent a letter with just the right prompts to get him here.
His fingers dug into the flesh of your leg slightly, grip surprisingly tight. “Well, then we’ll have to let you get transferred and see what happens.”
“I’ll put it through on your orders?”
He nodded. “If they ask why you came through me, I’ll tell them the situation required immediate reassessment.”
You knew from the moment the first sleazy comment was made that choices be damned, it wouldn’t happen. You wouldn’t do that when you had Sabo who, though you’d never defined him as anything, was so clearly yours that it hurt. He dropped his head to your shoulder, staring into the flames.
“It would be potentially compromising either way,” you said. “But I’ll send through the update once I’ve openly rejected him.”
He pressed a small kiss to your shoulder. “Good. A small delay is hardly the biggest problem we’ve faced with this base. As long as you keep your foot in the door, everything will work out fine.”
“I’m sure of it,” you asserted. Then, with a slight nudge, you smiled at him. “Business talk finished.”
“Absolutely.”
By the time you woke the next morning, sunlight spilled weakly through the curtains; pale gold stretching across tangled blankets and the still-glowing embers of the fireplace. You argued with your own sleep-addled thoughts to get up.
But Sabo’s arm was heavy across your waist and his breathing stirred softly against your back and you struggled to try and get up.
You finally urged yourself awake but the moment you moved, his grip around you tightened insistently and dragged you back to him.
“Not yet,” he mumbled, half-asleep.
“I don’t yet have the rank to make a ship wait for me,” you teased.
He sighed but his hold on you relented just enough for you to turn over and see the golden strands messed over his face. You brushed your thumb beneath one of his eyes lightly. “Did you not sleep at all?” you asked.
“I tried,” he said, muffled by a yawn. “But I didn’t want to waste time.”
You laughed softly. “You’re so cute.”
“I’m your boss.”
“Not right now.”
By the time you finished dressing, Sabo had finally dragged himself upright properly. He raked one hand through messy blond hair and kept yawning. The temptation to slip back into bed with him was far greater than it had any right to be.
“Oh yeah, I almost forgot,” he muttered. “In my coat, there’s a little box. It’s for you.”
You reached into the pockets, soon finding the box he was talking about. Inside, a locket sat, round and gold-edged with enough wear along the metal to suggest it wasn’t new. He watched your hands rather than your face, as though your reaction mattered more than he wanted to admit.
“It can be a necklace or attach anywhere else,” he said. “Good for keeping important things on you.”
You flipped it over in your fingers. A pretty gift but it felt a little too heavy. “Do I want to know what’s inside?”
“Insurance. In case you need me.”
You didn’t open it yet, just dropped it into your pocket and gave up, crawling onto the bed to kiss him again until you physically could not stay any longer.
By the time you returned to your base, warmth still lingered beneath your skin and your mouth kept threatening to curve whenever you weren’t paying attention. The polite decline may have come off a little harsher than you meant for it to. You were reassigned that very day with a smile far too pleasant to mean anything good.
Technically, it wasn’t even that much of a punishment.
You were still in the same base but in a different division with a different commanding officer and all the work you’d put into your potential advancement was gone. You would be restarting again… but your careful work wasn’t entirely derailed. Just adjusted.
You fixed the collar of your uniform as you received your introduction to the unfamiliar halls of the new base section. Not entirely unfamiliar – you’d walked this area before.
He was strict, certainly, but not needlessly cruel. He corrected mistakes without raising his voice and seemed more interested in order than punishment. He seemed very committed to making sure every one of his subordinates was functioning well and that type of acknowledgement was dangerous for you.
The worry followed you for most of the afternoon while you filled out paperwork and got your new division orders.
And while you were signing the last document, something felt like it bit your leg.
Your hand immediately dropped to your pocket where you felt a small vibration and you bowed your head toward the officer watching you sign, handed over all your documents, and immediately hurried away.
There was an office here that you knew was often used by the head nurse and her favourite officer when they met up which meant one very important thing: no cameras.
From inside the locket, a baby transponder snail hummed quietly.
You frowned and brought it to your ear, already fighting the urge to smile. This was a no-contact job and yet…
“Hello,” you said. “This is unexpected.”
“Hi,” Sabo’s voice came through, clear and not even pretending to be surprised. “Did things go as expected?”
You hummed, strolling through the office toward the glass window. “You gave me a transponder snail?”
“I was concerned there might be worse consequences for your rejection,” he said. “And you might need an escape route.”
“I have one of those.”
You had several actually. Throughout your time integrating into this base, you’d set up a thousand contingency plans. But nobody suspected anything strange about you. This little snail could easily change that.
“I know,” he said. “But another one can’t hurt. So, you’re okay?”
“I am,” you said. “I’ve been reassigned but not moved away from this base, just put under a new officer. There’s no real room for growth but I’ll look for another transfer out. I’m safe.”
“Good,” he said. “Keep me updated when you can.”
You paused. You certainly weren’t meant to talk about the Revolutionary Army openly which meant… you laughed softly to yourself. “Keep you updated about just what’s going on? Nothing else.”
“Nope. You can send the regular updates still. This is… more of a personal channel.”
“This is why I say you’re cute.”
He coughed, probably blushing on his ears like he so often did. You could see it in your mind and the thought made your heart throb a little.
“I have to return to work soon,” you said, already dreading moving away from his voice. “I’ll keep you updated as things change.”
“Do you have a private room?”
“No, I’m sharing with others but don’t worry, I know this building well enough to escape their eyes for a while.”
“Okay, that’s good… and you’ve eaten right?”
You giggled softly to yourself, catching a glimpse of your own reflection in the window. “Yes, I’ve eaten. We don’t often skip meals even with transfers.”
“I’m just being sure.”
His voice was making your heart ache worse. Even before, the separation had worn on you but now it felt harder than ever to be so far away when all you wanted to do was hug him and tell him not to worry so much.
“I’ll speak to you later,” you said.
“Right. Of course. Be safe.”
“Always.”
The young snail had clearly been taught to call silently but unfortunately, that meant it tended to bite you rather than make a sound. You were already drifting off when it did so a few evenings later, sharp little teeth pinching through the edge of your nightwear and dragging you back to yourself. With a muffled curse, you slipped from bed and padded down the dark corridors until you found a storeroom shoved full of haphazard furniture.
A large mirror leaned against the wall, half-covered by a grey sheet. In the dim light, your own reflection looked softer than it had any right to look in a Marine base, hair mussed from sleep and mouth already threatening to smile before you even lifted the snail to your ear.
“Evening, sir.”
Sabo chuckled, a low sound that sent warmth through your stomach. “Hey.”
It was far too dangerous to be able to hear him like this and not have him close enough to touch. The cold air around your shoulders felt worse than ever.
“Are you just calling to say hi or is something wrong?” you asked, only partially teasing.
He cleared his throat awkwardly, the sound making it far too obvious that you’d caught him out. “I… All my other transponder snails stopped working this morning because I forgot to feed them. I figured I should check in. Just in case you needed something but couldn’t contact me when they were down.”
“Aw, you always forget to feed the poor things,” you said with a small laugh. “I should leave you with a note next time I go.”
“I’d probably still forget, honestly. I think that one’s probably very happy to be with you.”
“I’m certainly happy to have it,” you admitted.
Maybe it was a potential hazard for your actual mission but you couldn’t help yourself. It was nice to not feel so alone in this sterile base.
“I did tell Koala I lost it by the way. If she asks. It’s technically not approved so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention it.”
“You gave me an unauthorised device?” you asked though you’d already known that. “Should I be worrying about your standards slipping?”
“Technically it’s your fault for distracting me.”
You laughed again, quieter this time to avoid the sound from carrying beyond the room. The mirror across from you caught the expression before you could school it away entirely and you found you looked far too fond for your own good.
A moment of melancholy passed through you as you noticed just how alone you were in the room.
“How’s the new division?” Sabo’s voice cut through your brief sadness with ease.
“Strict,” you answered. “Efficient too. Everybody walks around here looking more disappointed than usual but it’s nothing too interesting.”
“Sounds like the average marine experience.”
You hummed and leaned. “The only problem is my commanding officer is far more competent here. Not in the same way but… he notices things more. Less full of himself than the previous one which could be a problem in the future.”
“Then you need to be more careful with these calls.”
“I’m careful with everything I do,” you laughed. “Should I continue writing you letters though? If we’ll speak through here?”
There was a moment of hesitation on his side. “I looked forward to every one but if they’re more observant, you shouldn’t risk it. There’s a chance it caused the interest from your last officer given how detailed you are in them.”
You pressed your lips together. “I know letters can be checked but I don’t think that’s what made him feel so entitled.”
“Still.”
“He… was also interested before that. He just didn’t make any blatant comments before so I could ignore it.”
Silence fell for a while. “Can you try being less pretty?”
“Sabo!” you laughed.
“I’m just saying,” he said with a slight chuckle. “I should have considered giving the job to somebody less attractive.”
“You’re just saying that because you find me pretty.”
“I really do,” he admitted far too easily.
Outside the storeroom, footsteps passed down the corridor and you instinctively lowered your voice further. “I should head back soon. They might notice I’m gone.”
“Right.” His voice softened slightly. “I just wanted to make sure everything’s alright.”
You ran your fingers over your arm. “Everything’s alright, I promise.”
“Good.”
Neither of you hung up.
You tried to bring yourself to do so but being able to speak to him was filling a gap in your chest you didn’t know had been there. “Is this really for emergencies?” you asked. “Or am I allowed to call you again tomorrow?”
“I’ll wait for your call.”
“You’re getting clingier,” you teased. “Should I get concerned?”
“Only if you plan on getting rid of me.”
“Never.” You rose from your seat, brushing dust from your nightwear. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” he agreed. Then, after the smallest pause, “Just make sure you get enough sleep, alright?”
“Is that an order?”
“Absolutely.”
Your smile softened before you reached for the door handle. “Goodnight, Sabo.”
“Goodnight.”
It turned into a routine with frightening speed. You crept out every night at the same time like a child sneaking into the kitchen, bare feet quiet against cold floors as you searched for whichever room the base had forgotten about that day. Then you whispered and laughed in the dark while pretending to talk business.
Then one day, while you were filing records, the snail stuck its head out to nip at your chest and you stood.
“Bathroom,” you said to your colleague.
The other marine barely looked up from his own work as you stepped out, panicking briefly as you searched for a safe spot. You finally found an interior balcony and stepped out, closing the door behind you and praying nobody was around before you reached for the snail.
“Hi,” you said. “It’s a bit of a bad time.”
“Sorry,” Sabo said and your panic smoothed so quickly it was embarrassing. “But did you feel anything strange happen?”
“Strange how?”
“There was an earthquake on an island close to yours. It sounded like it was quite sizeable.”
You shook your head and looked out over the base where everything appeared irritatingly normal. Grunts crossed the courtyard below carrying weapons while somebody shouted drill orders near the training grounds. “Nothing out of the ordinary here. Was it serious?”
“I don’t know. It’s not really our business but…”
“But you wanted to check in?”
There was silence for a second before Sabo sighed. “I don’t know if giving you that snail was a great choice or a mistake,” he said with a brisk laugh.
“Should I stop answering to let you acclimatise to not hearing my voice again?”
“Please don’t.”
You smiled and turned your attention up toward the churning grey clouds overhead. It was probably going to rain later that day.
You rested your elbows against the railing. “Nothing happened here,” you reassured. “No earthquakes. I’ll ask about it though.”
“Good,” he said.
“You worry too much, do you know that?”
“I wasn’t worried.”
“Liar.”
“Fine, maybe a little but I – ”
Whatever he was saying got cut short when the balcony door behind you creaked open. The sound scraped straight down your spine. You turned too quickly, heart slamming painfully against your ribs as your commanding officer stepped onto the balcony and stopped short at the sight of you.
You closed your hand tightly around the little snail, breaking the connection before Sabo’s voice could betray you.
“Sir,” you said smoothly, hoping your expression looked calmer than you felt.
His gaze lingered on you briefly before it flicked toward your strangely raised hand. “Everything alright?”
“Fine,” you answered easily. “I just needed some air. Though I felt the ground move a little.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “There was an earthquake nearby so perhaps you felt the edges of it. Don’t stay out here too long.”
And then he left.
When you called Sabo back later that evening, it was to learn he had already started mapping extraction routes. You explained what had happened between soft laughs, promising you were okay and nobody suspected a thing.
If you’d continued being careful, you were sure you could continue with the snail indefinitely.
But at some point, you forgot he wasn’t meant to be part of your daily routine.
You were busy carrying supplies through the hallways toward the evening’s end when the snail nudged awake. Without anybody around you, you didn’t waste time looking for privacy and just brought it to your ear.
“Hey,” you said. “You’re not keeping to our schedule.”
“I’ve got a meeting later so I didn’t want to miss our call,” he said. “And I had an important question.”
“Mm? What’s it about?”
There was an entirely too-long pause before he answered. “I heard that standard-issue blankets in the marines are quite bad,” he said. “And it’s winter so I don’t want you getting cold. Do you need us to send you some?”
The absurdity of the question made you laugh. “These excuses are getting weaker.”
“I’m worried you won’t sleep well tonight,” he continued. “You’ve sounded exhausted all week and I don’t want you getting too tired. It might cause mistakes.”
“You’re one to talk about poor sleep schedules.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know.” Your grip shifted slightly on the reports in your arms. “It’s just been a long few days.”
The hallway remained quiet around you, your footsteps echoing softly against the floorboards.
“Too long,” he mused.
“Mm, I miss you,” you said, the words slipping out honestly in your exhaustion. “Hearing your voice every night is very addicting.”
Silence answered you briefly from the other side of the line. “…Yeah?”
You smiled faintly to yourself, slowing near the corner of the hall. “It’s annoying actually. You’ve made me terribly attached.”
“You have no idea what that does to me. I’m trying very hard not to come see you. Been fighting the urge the whole week.”
You smiled helplessly at the floor for a second before turning the corner and stopping dead.
Your commanding officer stood almost directly in front of you, a document held loosely in one hand. He had been reading it, or pretending to, but your voice had clearly caught his attention.
For one horrible second, nobody moved. The hallway felt much longer than it had a moment ago.
Then his eyes shifted slowly toward the transponder snail tucked against your ear.
“Sir,” you said, attempting professionalism despite the fact that your commanding officer had almost certainly overheard enough to know what was going on.
“And who exactly would you be speaking to?”
You hesitated before you removed the snail from your ear, placing it carefully into your palm to show him.
“He’s my…”
You trailed off, the commanding officer staring at you, waiting for an answer. You could have said he was your brother. Could have offered family as an excuse.
But instead, you covered the microphone and sighed. “He’s an old friend,” you said. “I’ve been in love with him for years but… I’ve never told him.”
Sabo made a soft cough on the other side of the transponder snail because covering it didn’t really hide your voice and he could definitely hear you. You tapped against it playfully as though encouraging him to stay quiet.
The officer’s expression softened, just a tad. “It’s very much against regulation for you to have this, you know.”
“I understand sir.”
He sighed. “I should write you up for having this but… I suppose you’re lucky I’m a bit of a romantic. If you fill out a request form, I can authorise it as a personal family line. After hours only. If I hear it during work again, I confiscate it.”
Oh?
“Really?” you asked. “Sir, if you’re certain…”
He smiled and gave you a wink. “I overheard enough to understand the situation. Tell your lover boy he can call after official hours and not before.”
You flushed a little and lifted your earpiece, slipping it back into your ear. He nodded to you and continued walking, leaving you alone in the hall. “Did you hear all that? Looks like being overprotective can get you places.”
Sabo chuckled softly. “Overprotective?”
“Do you think you were being subtle?”
“No,” he admitted. “But I missed you enough that I’m not sure I care anymore.”
“I suppose you ought to find a mission somewhere nearby. I’m starting to think I might be able to get some free time to see my lover boy.”
“Whenever you want. Two hours, if I leave now.”
“You’re that close?”
“Maybe.”
“Sabo?”
“See you then,” he said, softer than before. “And, for the record, I love you too.”
“Sabo!” The call went dead, leaving you frozen in the hallway with your heart beating far too loudly for such a quiet place. Then you laughed to yourself but surprisingly, it didn’t feel so alone anymore.
Tags: @miwn8 ; @aceincase
Kissing the Commanders (Whitebeard Pirates x Reader) - Part 2
One Piece | Marco, Ace, Izou, Thatch | 3.9k | Masterlist
On days when your body struggled to recover from a night with almost no sleep, you always found yourself drawn to the galley.
The heat from the ovens wrapped through the room in heavy waves, warming your skin long before you stepped fully inside. Somebody was always moving here. Boots against wood, knives against chopping boards, the low murmur of fourth division voices drifting beneath the steady groan of the ship itself. It never felt like a place where you had to think too carefully about where you stood or what you said.
You shuffled a little closer to the preparation tables with your legs crossed, reached out slowly and huffed when Thatch immediately slid his chopping board further out of your reach.
“You’re so mean to me,” you said.
He gave you a disbelieving look but fell for the comment regardless, holding out a slice of what he’d been chopping. “Mean to you?” he repeated. “Sugar, if I didn’t protect my ingredients, we would have nothing left for dinner.”
“I’m making sure nobody’s trying to poison you,” you said. “I promise.”
“Of course. That’s a genuine threat we face on this ship.”
“On every ship.”
Thatch laughed softly under his breath, shaking his head as he stepped close, reaching past you to take a pan from the cabinet behind you. His arm brushed against your shoulder, warmth lingering briefly through the thin fabric of your shirt while the scent of sugar and spice clung faintly to him. You allowed yourself one brief moment to appreciate the easy curve of his smile from this close.
Just for a second before he moved back to his kitchen with a smug smile. “You know. One day, I’ll find out how to convince you to join our crew.”
“When I’m in desperate need of stable employment?”
“When you figure out there are few things in life as addictive as excellent food,” he said. “And I suppose I could throw in very good hugs as a bonus.”
You laughed. “Hugs only? Here I thought the food was part of some elaborate seduction strategy.”
“Elaborate? Nah. I cook, you smile at me, I fall deeper in love. Pretty straightforward. I’ve been workin’ on it for years already.”
“Years?” you teased. “It’s a complicated strategy then.”
“Very slow progress,” he agreed with a dramatic sigh. “But it’s alright. I think I might get to you when I start proposing publicly.”
“Will you survive the rejection?”
“I’m very committed to the fantasy that this works out for me eventually.”
You couldn’t help but smile, shaking your head. “One day, I’m going to say yes and you’re going to not know what to do,” you warned him.
Before he could respond with whatever line you saw glinting in his eyes, the door swung open and the second division stepped in. They carried supply crates on their shoulders and Thatch squeezed your knee before he moved to direct them to the right store cupboards.
You immediately took the opportunity to reach over to the chopping board and swipe a few more snacks from it.
A loud, booming chuckle told you that you’d been spotted and you immediately looked to the source. Teach was impossible to ignore when he chose to make himself known.
“I had been feeling like we had a little less food lately,” he commented. “Looks like the kitchen has a mouse.”
You flashed him a pleased smile and held up a finger to your lips. “Maybe we can make a deal,” you whispered. “For your silence.”
He laughed again. “Ah, maybe. Maybe.”
Teach left his crate, one of the largest brought in, just outside the storeroom rather than carrying it the rest of the way himself before smacking his hands together. Dust flicked onto the ground but he didn’t follow the rest of his division out, stepping aside instead to let the other members past.
“Rumour had it you were disappearing yesterday,” he commented.
“Not quite yet. Much to the dismay of some,” you answered.
Teach was a strange man. You never knew quite what to make of him but he always had a broad smile stretched across his face and a jovial tone. He wasn’t particularly interesting to you and nor you to him but you’d spoken enough to know he was odd and somewhat lacking in any kind of motivation.
He shrugged. “Certainly not everyone. I think I can name a handful of others who ought to be happy to keep you.”
You looked to Thatch automatically and even busy with sorting, he looked over to you with such a genuine smile that your heart throbbed. “Absolutely,” he said. “Don’t let Marco give you too much trouble. He gets in his own head.”
You shook your head, keen to avoid the topic of Marco in case you allowed yourself to remember what had happened the night before. Unfortunately for your sanity, Teach nodded in agreement.
“He’s been on Ace’s back lately too,” he commented. “So, you’re not alone.”
“Ace?” Thatch asked.
“Yeah, near constant. Mainly ‘cause of the kid’s big crush on her.”
He nodded toward you and you died a little inside. Izou wasn’t the only one who had noticed? You tried to keep your face calm even as your heart lodged itself in your throat in a harsh reminder of the night before and the problems you were avoiding. You had no idea how to even start that conversation.
“Aw, he should lighten up,” Thatch said with a handwave. “It’s sweet. And he’s clearly got good taste.”
You laughed despite yourself, warm affection curling through your chest that at least Thatch wasn’t acting like this was the end of everything onboard.
“Don’t see what all the fuss is about myself,” Teach said with a loud laugh.
You weren’t sure if he was teasing or not but you chose to take it that way, shrugging. “I don’t either,” you admitted. “From what I’ve heard, she’s prone to stealing food.”
Teach chortled while Thatch rolled his eyes. But whatever momentary humour you took in it vanished the second the galley door swung open again.
Ace stepped inside with a supply crate balanced against one shoulder, sea air and sunlight following briefly in behind him before the door shut again. His eyes found yours immediately. The pleased expression appeared fast enough that you couldn’t ignore it anymore. No wonder everybody had seen it. He was the opposite of subtle.
“Ace,” Thatch greeted. “What’s this I’m hearing about you trying to steal my girl, hm?”
“Your girl?” you corrected.
“Ah, you’re right,” he said. “Future girl.”
Heat crawled up the back of your neck and you gave the chef a slightly panicked look that made him frown in response. It was hardly the first time he’d made that joke and yet…
Ace had frozen mid-step, clearly incredibly confused as he looked toward Thatch and Teach who were both laughing. Then, before common sense caught up, he responded, “Not if you’re already too late.”
The words seemed to freeze the entire room the second they left his mouth. Even the steady clatter of preparation behind you faltered for a beat. Your shoulders crept higher as everybody in the kitchen gave him a look, both divisions clearly interested at the very loud challenge.
Ace looked like a man realising he’d just walked into an execution. “I mean – ”
You were going to kill him.
“What was that?” Thatch asked, amusement already beginning to curl into his voice at the teasing material that had just been offered to him.
Ace’s face turned bright red beneath his freckles. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Hm…? What did you mean it like?”
He was melting slowly and you would have taken sympathy on him if not for how you were too busy fighting off your own fluster.
“I just meant it normally.”
“Normally?”
Teach threw his head back in boisterous laughter. “You’ve got some competition commander,” he said, clapping Thatch on the shoulder. “Think the kid plans on stealing her out from under you when you’re not looking. Though maybe that’s what makes it fun, eh?”
Ace looked at you, his expression almost desperate for guidance on how to solve this. But you had no idea how to fix this.
You met Teach’s gaze and he looked a little too inquisitive, watching you for a response. You settled for just giving him a mildly unimpressed expression before you turned to Thatch to tell him to lay off Ace.
The chef held up his hands before you even said anything but you could see a strange melancholy lingering in him. “It’s fine,” he said. “I’ve never been scared of a little friendly competition.”
“I’m not fond of it myself,” you commented playfully. “When you try to show off, you always give me the weirdest foods.”
“Hey,” he ribbed. “I do that regardless. You’re my taste tester.”
But Teach clearly wasn’t understanding the way you were trying to move this conversation because he snorted. “Very gracious,” he said. “Not sure Izou will share the same sentiment though.”
You could hear the divisions whispering and sharp looks didn’t do much to stop them.
“Izou?” Ace repeated as though he’d never even heard the name before. “What does he have to do with anything?”
And honestly, that sounded like a great idea.
You hopped off the table, squeezing your way past the fourth division as you hurried to the door. “That reminds me, I did promise to talk to him today. I’ll be back later.”
You didn’t hear Thatch’s usual complaint whenever you fled the galley but you brushed that off as how desperately you were trying to ignore Ace’s fallen expression as you hurried past.
The corridors of the Moby Dick were never fully quiet but you didn’t bump into anybody – hurrying through the halls with your pulse refusing to settle beneath your ribs. Humiliation lingered stubbornly beneath your skin.
Seas, Ace. Did he have to make that comment? Now the entire crew would be whispering.
You pressed the heels of your palms briefly against your eyes as you turned down the hall. Maybe you should change your plan to just telling Izou you were going to jump overboard.
It would be better for your sanity.
“What’s wrong with you?”
The question came from behind you, sharp enough to make you stop abruptly as though you’d been caught doing something wrong. Marco looked very unimpressed as he stepped out of his office that you’d just stormed past.
“Nothing. I’m walking. Don’t you have something important to do?”
His eyes narrowed at the harsh snap but he didn’t speak to it. “Weren’t you just in the galley? Somebody chase you out of there for being in the way?”
“You know, it’s honestly none of your business.”
Marco blinked and stayed silent for a second. He wasn’t used to the hostility brimming from you despite all your usual arguments, you’d never taken such a biting tone with him before. And you knew you ought to have just deflected it: complained that he was hovering like a damned mother hen again and ignored him.
But you were already on edge and now the words were out there.
Marco moved further down the hallway, approaching you. “Fine. Imagining I’m stupid and know nothing’s upsetting you, where were you this morning.”
You almost rolled your eyes at him. “Sleeping. Why do you care?”
“Because you weren’t there for breakfast or for your usual tea with Izou yoi.”
“Guess I didn’t get enough sleep. Or maybe I was actually just avoiding you so I didn’t get interrogated.”
His expression tightened at your comment. “That’s not what this is.”
“Right. You’re questioning my exact movement patterns which is totally normal.”
Confusion flickered briefly through him before his defences began to rise in response to your agitation. “Maybe I wouldn’t need to if you didn’t act guilty about everything.”
“Guilty? Is that why you’re out here? Because you think I’m sneaking around.”
“I thought you were upset, yoi. But then you started responding to me as though I caught you doing something wrong.”
You rolled your eyes. “What do you want me to say, hm? Congratulations, you’ve been right this whole time. I shoved a transponder snail down my top so that the marines could listen in to every conversation the crew has.”
“That’s not what I’ve accused you of.”
“Yeah? Why not?”
“Because I think their ears would bleed from hearing constant bad lines from Thatch. Now what have you been doing that’s riled you like this?”
You crossed your arms. “Guess. I’d love to hear your theories again.”
Genuine regret crossed his face so quickly you almost missed it. Then he exhaled slowly and the tension somewhat left his shoulders. “I’m not trying to start a fight.”
It caught you for a second and you forced the annoyance from your tone.
If it wasn’t for the guilt already twisting in your chest, you may have felt bad for the argument that was clearly being listened in on by multiple crew members down the hall. But you really didn’t have time to spare more regret for your actions.
“Aren’t you always doing that?” you asked.
He didn’t respond for a second and when he did, it was with a slight edge. “What happened?”
“Nothing.”
His jaw tensed and he shook his head. “Right.”
And just like that, the momentary softness vanished and old irritation arose anew. “Oh, don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“That thing where you decide I’m lying before even bothering to find out what about.”
He shrugged. “You are lying.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know you better than you think.”
You really didn’t have time to stand here reiterating the same point over and over again. You took a step away, throwing a hand up in the air. “Sure,” you said. “Because you spend so much time talking to me.”
He looked almost hurt at that. You wished you didn’t see that expression on him.
“I’m going to find Izou,” you said stiffly.
“Of course you are.”
Something ugly twisted beneath the words and just as he did so often, he took what good grace you had and destroyed it with one comment.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He turned away from you, heading back to his office. “Nothing. Go find Izou.”
The dismissal stung more than it should have. You hated how he could do that.
You turned sharply and continued the way you were going, practically sliding down the stairs towards the commanders’ quarters. The crew had the wherewithal to move out of your way as you went; the noise of their activity lost beyond the walls until only the groan of the sea remained. Warm light spilled faintly beneath the doorway before you even knocked.
“You’re early,” Izou called.
You stepped in and closed the door behind you; some awful knot tightening in your chest when you looked at him. He sat near the low table by the window, loose fabric pooled around him in soft folds while thread spilled across the wood beside his hands. The room smelled faintly of tea leaves and powder smoke, lanternlight catching warm gold against the dark lacquer of his pistols nearby.
He looked up at you, smile pleasant but prying. “Well,” he said. “I don’t know what happened with you but I imagine I should blame Marco.”
You sighed and stepped closer, dropping onto the bench beside him with significantly less grace than usual and pressed your palms into your eyes. “Not even,” you muttered. “But he doesn’t make things better.”
“I don’t think he knows how to,” Izou said as he set the fabric aside. “Not when it comes to you. Now what did you do that’s so bad?”
“You’re going to laugh at me.”
“Most likely.” His mouth curved faintly. “But you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want to tell me.”
You groaned softly because he was right. Because if you were going to talk to anybody about this and not have it made into a thing, Izou was perfect. You leaned back against the wall behind you and for a moment, neither of you spoke.
“I kissed Ace.”
Izou stayed silent for a second before he chuckled softly, the sound almost breathless. You gave him a desperately pleading expression but he didn’t appear too horrified. So, it surely couldn’t be as bad as you feared. Right?
“That poor boy,” he said. “No wonder he’s been walking around this morning and staring at walls.”
You sighed heavily. “Have I broken him?”
“Very possibly. I would say almost certainly but there’s a chance he continues on in hopes he might get another one.”
You turned your head to the window, tapping offbeat against the windowsill. “It was stupid,” you admitted. “I… I don’t even know why but I thought, you know, maybe it would be – I don’t know. It didn’t make his interest any better.”
Izou scoffed. “You kissed a man and thought it would make him fall out of love with you? Come now. That’s foolish.”
“He’s not in love,” you complained because you didn’t have another defence. You leaned your head against the glass. “What do I do?”
“About Ace? It depends on what you want from him.”
You didn’t know. You looked toward Izou to make sure he wasn’t judging you but he instead looked a little out of it, carefully examining his sleeve for a missing thread that wasn’t there. He met your eyes and raised an eyebrow. For a while, you stared at each other in silence and then you pushed yourself away from the window.
“This was so stupid,” you said. “We were decent enough friends but then I went and complicated something that had no reason to be complicated.”
He hummed faintly. “Perhaps I may complicate things further for you?”
You frowned. “What do you mean?”
He shifted himself on the bench, a hand coming up to catch your jaw and pull you in, your heart frozen solid in your chest. “By following your example.”
“Izou…”
“Mm?”
Words weren’t fully forming on your tongue.
His lips met yours softly at first, patient enough that for one second you worried he might still pull away. He didn’t.
One hand slipped around your waist, drawing you closer with quiet certainty while the other remained steady against your jaw.
The sudden intensity of it hit like stepping too close to open flame, sharp heat rushing through you so quickly your fingers caught instinctively against the front of his kimono. He kissed with precision, every movement deliberate, devastatingly controlled even as his grip on you tightened.
You made a quiet noise against his lips and felt the faintest hint of satisfaction in the way he exhaled.
When he finally pulled back, it was only far enough for you to feel his breath against your skin.
“There,” he said. “Now things are equally complicated for us.”
You stared at him. Izou looked entirely composed, save for the slight darkening of his eyes and the hand still resting warm against your waist.
“You…”
“Yes?”
“Why?”
“Mm. Curiosity among other things.” He brushed his thumb lightly against your side. “I’ve captured your attention for so many years, I imagine it would only be fair, no?”
You huffed out a breath, trying very hard to ignore the way your heartbeat had quickened. “You are not helping my situation.”
“No,” Izou agreed smoothly. “I imagine I am making it much worse.”
He sounded entirely too pleased with himself and, despite every warning bell ringing somewhere deep in your chest, you couldn’t quite find it in yourself to regret any part of it.
Interlude
Ace found Teach later that evening near the lower deck, reclining against a stack of crates with a bottle dangling loosely from one hand. The older man raised his eyes immediately when Ace approached and grinned broadly.
“Ah, commander. You’re looking miserable.”
Ace scowled, more on instinct than anything. “I’m not.”
“Suppose you’ve always looked like somebody shot your dog?” he said with a booming laugh before he took a slow, deep drink.
For a moment, Ace just leaned against the railing beside him, staring out across the black stretch of ocean beyond the ship. Moonlight broke silver across the water whenever the Moby Dick shifted with the tide while cold wind pushed restlessly through his hair. The wind cooled some of the lingering heat beneath his skin but not nearly enough.
Unfortunately.
Teach watched him quietly for several seconds before he chuckled under his breath. “So, you’re into her, hey? I can see it. She seems your type.”
Ace nearly choked, coughing loudly. “What?! I don’t – Stop it!”
Teach laughed loudly, the sound booming over the ship. He looked far too pleased with himself.
Ace folded his arms tighter across his chest and glared toward the sea harder. “Doesn’t really matter. I just wanted to ask you something?”
“Me?”
“What did you mean earlier? When you said Izou wouldn’t be happy?”
Teach’s gaze flickered then, something more interested arising behind the lazy cadence of his words. Ace immediately regretted asking.
Teach rolled the bottle between his palms slowly before shrugging one shoulder. “Ah, that. Didn’t mean anything special by it. Everybody knows about Izou and her.”
Ace frowned. “What about them?”
Teach blinked once. “You really don’t know?” He settled back comfortably against the crates. “I mean most people figured if she ever stuck around permanently, it would be for one of the two. Either Thatch or… well, Izou. To be honest, I don’t know many who think Thatch has a real chance.”
Ace hated the way he said it. Like it was an accepted fact. “That’s…” He frowned. “Why?”
Teach barked out a laugh. “Boy, have you ever actually watched the two of them together?”
Ace’s jaw tightened slightly. Not really. You always sat by Izou, always talked to him quietly in whispers interspersed with laughter. Now that he thought about it, maybe a little too much.
“She goes to him with everything,” Teach continued casually. “Always has.”
Something unpleasant twisted in Ace’s chest at the answer. Because that was true, wasn’t it? The second things got uncomfortable earlier, you’d gone straight to Izou.
Teach tilted his head slightly, watching the realization settle over Ace’s face.
“Most of the crew’s been convinced for years that they’ll make a move someday,” he added. “There’s probably still a betting pool somewhere.”
Ace stared at him. “You’re joking. They’re betting on it?”
“I swear it.” Teach looked entirely delighted now. “You should’ve seen the galley after you opened your mouth earlier. Think you scared a few people.”
Ace dropped his face briefly into one hand. He’d inserted himself into some years-long situation the entire crew apparently already knew about. Fantastic. But… you’d kissed him. You’d taken his wrists and brought him closer. You wouldn’t do that if you were already secretly dating one of the others.
After a moment he frowned again, glancing sideways toward Teach.
“Is that why Marco doesn’t like her?”
Teach paused then shrugged. “Nah, I got no clue what that’s about. Don’t think anybody does.”
That somehow did not make Ace feel better.
“But,” Teach added, grin widening, “With all that in mind, you got under everybody’s skin pretty fast. I figure you might even have a chance commander. Maybe I change my money from Izou to you.”
Ace groaned. “You were betting on Izou?”
“’Course. It made a whole lot of sense before you showed up.”
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