Royce Hemlock’s Biggest Hater

He/They, US, 19, 🏳️‍🌈,🏳️‍⚧️ Outlive your enemies so you can spit on their graves

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Imagine trying to hide your hand injury from Sanji…

He was chopping vegetables for a pie when you walked into the kitchen. Politely, you smiled at him and Sanji felt his heart burst with a warm light. He tried to channel it back into his cooking, making a mental note to save you a second helping of dinner just for being so you.

He worked away quietly and listened to you rustle about. Cupboards opened and closed. Drawers slid out and then back in again. Another cupboard clicked shut in disappointment.

“What are you looking for?” He wondered, eyes focused on the carrots on his board.

“Just some bandages.” Your reply was too casual for that specific item and it caught his attention.

Sanji turned his head, glancing briefly at the cabinet of medical supplies and wondered aloud, “Oh, why?”

He noticed almost everything about you. The way you closed your eyes and smiled under the sun. The way you tapped your foot to good music at a town bar. The way that you winced when you hid your hands behind your back… wait, what?

Slowing his knife work to a complete stop, Sanji moved his whole body to face you.

“What’s wrong?” He asked because something was certainly wrong.

“I-nothing...” You stuttered. Something you only did when caught red-handed amongst the crew. “I think I’ll just go.”

When you moved to leave, Sanji stepped forward and held out his hands, “Whoa now, you came in here for bandages. Let me help you.”

You looked at him and, again, Sanji had to steel himself from melting into the floorboards. After a quiet minute of consideration, you nodded. “Okay.”

Sanji let out a breath of relief and led you to the small table by the window. On his way, he grabbed the small bag of medical supplies that he picked up at the last town.

He took a seat opposite you and opened the supplies. “What are we patching up?” He asked.

This time you looked at him like he was going to bite - which he would never do without your permission. Then very slowly, you raised your hands to the table and turned them palm up, revealing bright red blood where the skin had peeled off.

Sanji felt his heart drop. How had your beautiful hands been so damaged and how much pain have you been in since then?

He gingerly took your hands in his and got to work. You didn’t seem to like it when he asked questions but maybe he could get an understanding of what happened through conversation.

~~~

Zoro was up in the Crows Nest. His eyes were closed, hands behind his head as he started to doze off. His mind clearing until…

Boom!

The kitchen door burst open. A furious kick from an equally furious chef.

“They tripped over your swords?” Sanji’s voice boomed from below. “Moss head, where are you?”

Zoro exhaled, exercising patience and disguising a hint of nerves. “Shit.”

~ More One Piece imagines here ~

A/n: Inspired by real-life events when I body slammed into the sidewalk and messed up my hands twice in two months. Silly, silly!

[olivearie]

𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐒 – frank castle, "punisher" x fem!reader

𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐄, "𝐏𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐑" – WC: 4,6K

set during spider-man : brand new day (so obviously, SPOILERS AHEAD!)

summary: you're used to staying at frank's old boat that he call his place. it's his home and it's yours too. but waking up to spider-man and his girlfriend in your little tiny kitchen is a crazy sight to wake up to.

warnings: SPOILERS FOR BRAND NEW DAY! swearing, kissing

𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐬 . . .

It’s dark and cold. Not cold enough to sleep with covers up to your neck. It truly wasn’t cold as it usually gets in the boat. The air was just holding this particular feeling, a little chill to it.

You woke slowly, not having plans ahead of you, not having to get ready for anything particular that you need to get done today. Just laying around, enjoying the moment of quietness.

Your eyes closed, listening to the faint knocking of water from the outside. Quiet and distant. Soft sounds bring you completely awake. Get you to open your eyes and notice the surroundings. Notice what there is and what there isn’t.

There was no light on. The dark wrapping around you. Holding itself in the small room of the boat that you and Frank call the bedroom.

Then, barely awake, your eyes fluttered a few times, adapting to the dark like usual. Watching the dark ceiling above you, you shifted slightly closer to the other side of the bed. Closer to the warmth that should be beside you. That usually rests next to you, that usually clings to you.

Only there was no warmth.

Your hand raised up from under your ear, then moved across the mattress, fingers stretching apart.

Expecting to find Frank.

Trying to find that solid shoulder of his, bruised and so full of memories. Or at least the sleeve of that ridiculous chequered grey robe he insisted on wearing on the boat.

Your fingers met nothing.

Empty space on the mattress.

And that stopped you. You frowned faintly, your eyes slid from the dark ceiling over the whole room to the other side of the mattress. And you finally met the sight on the other side. The space beside you is empty. No sight of the man.

The blanket was thrown completely over you, rumpled at your feet. Definitely put over you when he stood from the bed and left. But Frank was gone.

He had been there a little while ago. Before you went to take a rest. He had been there snugged against you beneath the dark blanket, his body pressed against yours with the familiar warmth and the comfortable weight he dropped over you when he was slightly resting over your body. One of his arms is thrown over your waist, head on your chest or sometimes shoulder. Then sometimes, you are on his shoulder or on his chest. Even his arm too. The slow rhythm of his breathing raises up his chest against your body.

Maybe, he had a nightmare.

And that’s makes you sit up. Far too quickly.

You pushed yourself onto one elbow, the blanket slipping down your shoulder as you let your gaze settle towards the other side of the bed. Your palms spread over the mattress as you’re sitting up. With a sigh, you let one hand up and rubbed it over your eyes. Hard, making tiny colourful shapes swim around your vision for a few seconds. Then they’re gone. Eyes adjusted to the dark, faint outlines of the familiar world now smooth in your eyes.

You looked towards the doorway, the door was shut. With furrowed brows and a tiny yawn to let the tiredness go away, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed. Dark socks rolled up on your feet. Frank always told you to keep them on, you tried to keep the boat clean. Both of you tried. But it just felt like the floor was never clean even if you scrubbed it for hours.

Now standing up, you move towards the door, open it and slip through. The sleep is still clinging to your legs, forcing you to walk slower than you had intended. Moving through the small metal boat hallway, you move straight down. On one side are the cramped doors leading to the toilet, bathroom and the little supply rooms that stayed there from the last owner. At the end of the hallway is the spare room with its old, but still very nicely kept bunk bed, the room that you mostly call the guest room. A funny thing. You call it that jokingly. Just because there is the very real fact that you never really have guests over.

So, where the hell is Frank and why is he not sleeping?

You pass the bathroom, the light is not turned on. He is not there.

Then you pass the toilet, the light is as well not turned on. So, he is not there either.

Then in the few supply rooms, you open the first door and peek inside, dark and no sight of Frank in it. You don’t bother to check the other supply rooms, if he is not in this one, he won’t be in the other ones. Maybe, he’s outside. Watching the water, the cityscape and the birds fly by. It calms you both, it’s a nice view from down there.

You push through the heavy doors of the guest room and he is not there either. But the lights are on, though. So, he must have been there. You barely glance at the bunk bed as you slip past, your thoughts already moving towards the only room of the boat you can imagine him now being in.

You reach the kitchen door and wrap your fingers around the handle, pulling it open. You then push the door open by your palm. The light spills onto you and you catch the sight of a person in the kitchen. But almost immediately as the door opened, something snapped against the back of your hand. Or stuck up onto your hand. A weird sensation, a weird material.

You freeze instantly and look down.

You try to instinctively pull your hand back from whatever had landed onto your hand, it glues over the back of your hand, on your skin and the door’s metal surface. Caging your hand on it like it is supposed to be holding it together.

What the hell is that?

Your head snaps back up quickly, eyes widening a good bit.

“Who is–” a very unfamiliar voice yelps out, a younger voice.

“Woah!” a woman’s voice rings out just then too.

You jerk back as another thing of whatever you have on your hand flies towards you. You dodge it. Finally, the white thing flies past your face and attaches itself to the metal wall of the tiny kitchen beside you. You stare at it. And you finally realize what that thing is.

A white web.

You snap your head back up towards the kitchen so quickly. And then you finally see what is going on in your tiny, cramped kitchen beyond the doorway you’re standing in.

A figure in red and blue with a mask on.

One hand raised up, fingers bent in that very familiar position you saw too many times on the news, pictures and kids doing when you were in the city.

It’s Spider-Man.

And beside him is another figure.

A young woman, visibly confused and nervous. A coat on, hair slightly pointing to all directions as if she had flown here.

You have no idea who that woman is.

And there is a smell. A quite familiar one. Warm one, spicy one. Chilli. Frank mentioned that he was planning on cooking it throughout this week. Coming from where the burners are still going, steam coming up and smell flying around.

And next to them, is the only person you wanted to find in this room.

Frank.

He is standing there in his chequered grey robe, one hand holding the pot that he is making chilli in and his eyes wide, fixated on the sudden chaos at the doorway in his own kitchen at his own boat. His house! Your house!

His expression changes the instant he sees you. Eyes softening, a small smile coming up. But the second he sees your expression and then the web on your hand, the soft eyes disappear as if they weren’t there before and the smile turns into a strong frown.

A mad one.

“Shit, kid!” you finally hear the man’s voice. Loud and angry.

Frank moves immediately towards you, dropping the hot pot back onto the burners.

“The hell you doin’ with those fuckass webs in my fuckin’ kitchen?” he yells out angrily, storming over to you with a loud hit of his boots against the metal floor of the boat. He looks at Spider-Man with an expression that makes him want to crawl away and before he can do it, Frank barks out and points angrily with his pointer finger at him, “don’t do that again!”

His voice fills the tiny kitchen like a loud storm and thunder. It’s sharp, and makes everyone shut up very quickly. Frank is already crossing the kitchen in stern and quick steps.

He shoves past Spider-Man with enough force to make him stumble and the younger girl steps aside to not get hit by the angry man. You barely have time to register what is happening before Frank reaches you. You literally just woke up.

“Frank—” you don’t get a chance to ask a question. Only his name makes it past your lips.

“What the hell is goin’ on with ya’, kid?” the older man snaps once again, words meant for the masked person in his kitchen. He looks over his shoulder again and then looks towards you. His wide eyes search you up and then he ends up grabbing your shoulders. His hands gripping both shoulders as if he needed to see that you were real.

Pulling you closer and looking you over as if you had been shot. Not webbed by the kid in the mask that is somehow standing in your shared kitchen.

Spider-Man stares at you, the white eyes wide. The woman nervously looks, arms crossed over her chest. This is all so confusing. A fever dream, maybe you’re just sick and this is a dream. Maybe a nightmare.

“Who—who is that, Frank?” the younger voice demands out, high pitched and surprised. The masked boy starts pointing at you with the same hand from where he shot the webs at you.

Frank quickly turns his head and pulls out another grimace on his face, “none of yer damn fuckin’ business, kid.”

“Woah, okay,” the other woman quietly says under her breath and nods her head a few times, leaning her hip against the counter in the kitchen.

There is a brief silence.

Then he stares at the masked person for a few brief seconds before he turns towards you. His face easing up, the furrow leaving and eyes softening at the sight of the only person he wanted to have in his kitchen tonight.

“Man! You never told me–” the loud voice of the masked boy started to boom across the kitchen before getting cut off by a yelp and the sound of a hand hitting something. The younger girl slapped the masked hero on his shoulder, shutting him up. The man in robe starts to turn his head over his shoulder, but he quickly gets stopped.

“Frank.”

The tone of your voice makes the man in the robe stop from barking out something at the kid. Anchoring him in the spot.

“Listen–” Frank starts to say, but you cut him off.

“Why the hell is Spider-Man in our kitchen?”

“Listen to me–” he tries again, his voice dropping, trying to softly explain the situation. But he does not get a chance to continue again. His words are cut off by your own ones.

“And why is my hand webbed to the door?” you cut off the man again, moving your gaze down to where it is still stuck to the metal door.

His eyes drop to your hand and then he groans out loudly that it makes Spider-Man turn around awkwardly, moving further away from the angry man and you.

“Okay, in my defense—” the masked boy starts to speak again, defending himself and his little webbing problem that he threw in this tiny boat kitchen.

“No,” huffs out the older man. Not turning around to face the masked boy.

“You never even told me you had someone else here! What was I supposed to do?” the masked hero throws his hands up in the air, voice raising up.

“Ehh–definitely not shoot a damn web, kid!” Frank then finally, but pointedly looks at him over his shoulder, his hands ripping off the sticky web that holds your hand and the door together. Clinging stubbornly to his own hand, disgusting little thing.

The web sticks to his fingers and he makes a disgusted grimace, lips turning down and nose scrunching, throwing it into the opened garbage bin next to the door. Frank then exhales sharply through his nose, warm breath fanning over your face when he turns back towards you, rubbing a hand over his face in a manner that makes his emotions very clear. It’s an utter joke. This whole situation is one big joke. Spider-Man once again mentioned the stupid Staten Island and that’s what made him accept this favour, according to the spider’s words, he owed him for that. Even though he and you knew it was bullshit. The guy wouldn’t get Frank in any possible scenario and the spider is exaggerating it all.

You stare up at Frank and it feels a bit awkward with the two new additions in your kitchen. Frank shakes his head and his hand shoots up, fingers wrapping around your wrist and he pushes you backward. Pushing you towards where you had come from, the spare guest room.

“I’ll go put some pants on,” he huffs out with a low voice to the guests in the kitchen. Irritated as ever. He was afterall still wearing his stupid grey robe. Then he continued, “and gon’ explain this bullshit to ya’,” he looks down at you at the second part.

He guides you back to the room and shuts the heavy metal door behind him. His hand unwraps from your wrist, but before he completely lets go off you. He raises it up to his mouth gently, his head bending down and plants his lips against the skin of your knuckles. Soft, gentle like he was holding something precious. The big, bad Punisher, kissing your knuckles like a piece of an angel.

Frank whispers out against your knuckles, muffled with another kiss that he gave your hand, “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

Then he follows you into the bedroom. You lead the way, him trailing right behind you. When you enter the room, Frank reaches for the light switch and switches it on with a faint click, it flickers a few times before a familiar, yellow-ish light fills the small room of the boat that you both share as a bedroom. Frank then walks straight towards the closet, opening it and reaches for the pair of pants that he is not currently wearing. Black, like always.

Then without turning towards you, no sly remark, he pulls the black pants on with a huff of breath. Then he unwraps the grey robe from his waist and hastily throws it onto the bed without turning around.

“You let Spider-Man and his friend into our boat because he claimed that you… owed him for Staten Island? I guess?”

Frank’s silence answers you. He told you about it multiple times, the kid kept mentioning it whenever he’d run into him. Your eyes narrow at the silence that the man gives you.

“Frank.”

“I know.”

“Why?”

“He’s dang annoying and wants to keep his girlfriend safe. I was… gon' tell ya’,” he speaks with that rasp in his voice and rubs a hand over his jaw, still turned with his back to you, staring at the opened doors of the closet. Looking at the shelves and hanging clothes.

“When?” you ask the man, stepping closer to the doorway. Leaning your shoulder against it, finding a comfortable stance.

Frank looks up towards the ceiling with a long sigh, “...soon.”

You chuckle at that. He turns at the sound of that and sees your stance. Arms crossed over your chest, shoulder resting against the doorframe as you watch him closely and Frank pauses. Genuinely pauses, life stopping in his chest. Breathing stopped too. And for a good few moments, neither of you speak up.

Then he comes towards you, crossing the room in a few steps. The space between you and Frank shrinks until there’s barely anything left between the two of you. Chest touching chest. Then, his arm slides around your waist, going from your stomach to your back and to your side, his firm hand pulling you closer to him. The other hand comes up under your jaw, fingers slipping over your skin until his hand holds your jawline the way he wants, the familiar way you know. With his hand, he then softly tilts your face towards him, making you stare up to his brown eyes, rough with memories and soft with your presence. He pulls your head up with a gentleness that doesn’t match the sight of him. The sight of how they called him, the Punisher.

Your own arms unlock from where you have them crossed over your chest and loop around Frank’s neck, fingers settling at the back of it. Hands holding the nape, the hairs shuffling between your fingers. Then you rest your weight on the back of his neck, pulling him down. Even closer, if that’s possible. Frank exhales and then he dips down. Down against your mouth.

He kisses you.

Lips slotting against lips.

He tilts your head up to his, adjusting the way your mouths move. His hand at your waist tightens a bit more as he leans into it. Down into the kiss. The hand under your jaw slides slightly up, the palm of his hand now covering your cheek and his thumb rests under your eye. Pulling you in, deepening it like his lips and your lips were the only thing holding him up.

Frank shifts you back without breaking the kiss you are having. He slowly starts guiding you backwards until your entire back meets the doorframe behind you, not just your shoulder. His hand at your waist slides up and then down, hunching your shirt up and then letting it down back down. Then he tilts your head to the side, your neck moving and your ear nearly touches your shoulder. He goes the opposite way, moving the kiss without your noses colliding. It wasn’t messy, just passionate and a good heat involved. Sweet, warm and delicious. Like a dream. Mouth opening, lips wet and hands wandering.

Then his lips fall from your, now the tips of your lips touching. A small, warm feeling.

The man then pulls a bit away, your lips far for another kiss to be done. He doesn’t step away though, keeping you against the doorway, body facing the hallway. His back turned towards the guest room.

“Now,” Frank says with a deep voice, his hand moving slightly higher at your side. The other hand drops from your cheek, moving to the side of your neck, “...’bout the kids in our kitchen.”

He glances briefly towards the guest room, his warm breath fans over your face as he looks over his shoulder and then turns his head back towards you.

Frank does that noise of his before he speaks, “eeeh–kid has been talking ‘bout that goddamn Staten Island shit and how I owe him for tha’,” he chuckles out with a disbelieving expression, “his girlfriend is in danger, apparently needs my fuckin’ help for tha’.”

“Isn’t he already sick of that story about Staten Island?” you chuckle a bit louder, a smile forming on your face.

“That’s exactly what I asked him!” he barks out loudly, shaking his head. His head dips down and he lets his lips fall upon your cheek, planting a kiss there. Warm and gentle. Then he raises his head back up, staring down at you with a hint of a smirk that lays on his lips.

“Listen, sweetheart, he bothered me in the city too. I told ya', ya'know. At that fuckin’ tank. Jesus. The kid’s gon’ tell me what he really needs me t’ do and then I can figure—” the man’s words get once again cut off. This time differently. You pull his hair again, the tiny strands at his neck that aren’t buzzed up into that fade he has on, and he instantly shuts himself off and drops his head down. Lips falling onto yours, slotting to the position like they were before.

His hand instantly slides from your neck back up to your jaw, pulling your head up and making you stand up higher than before as he deepened the kiss. His hand settles against your cheek and jaw, his hand big and heavy on your face. He leans further down, trying to enter himself into your mouth with his own lips.

You pull away, a catch of breath trying to be made, but then Frank, like the man he is, goes back down. Lips finding yours messily, first falling on the corners and wetting them up. Then he moves to the lips, fitting together with a heavy push of his lips against yours. Your fingers grip, tighten up in his hair, pulling.

His name escapes your lips.

Making the sound against your lips, somewhere in between a whine and a prayer. His name is a whisper, a soft and debilitated pronunciation of his name.

His lips turn, pulls slightly from yours into a faint little Castle smirk. And then he pushes further, another kiss and another and another. His lips pull your top lip, his nose nudging your closed eyes. He was so pushy, so full of want and love.

Frank’s hand moves to your side in a different way. With a push, he guides you out of the doorway of your shared bedroom, he turns you towards the wall of the hallway. Not the bedroom. Then neither of you is blocking the doorway, now standing sideways in the boat’s hallway. Your back is against the metal wall and you realize it after he pulls away again, for a breath that fills his mouth.

“Frank. Frank, Frank, Frank,” you manage out, voice not delivering the right tone for the words, voice a bit uneven, “we have—Frank. The kitchen—”

“I know, sweetheart,” he flaps out. No care in his voice.

He continues with the mess, his grip tightens. Fingers dig to your sides, head turns from side to side, tongue swipes and wets. Lips move in a dance that can’t be performed any other time. It’s almost impossible to describe the utter feeling inside your chests, it’s everywhere. Frank is everywhere. His lips, especially. His hands, too.

The guest room doors at the end of the hallway swings open.

Fucking hell.

Then Spider-Man steps out first, mid-sentence, still talking with that high voice of his, gesturing vaguely with his hands in the air, waving and doing shit. Your and Frank’s heads snap towards the sound, both eyes wide.

“—I’m just saying, his whole boat will get burned down because of–”

“–won’t burn because of a chilli!”

Both Spider-Man’s and the girl’s voices stumble over each other, overlapping each other. Louder than every other word they say, trying to get themselves together to form a good sentence to let each other know about the kitchen’s awful smell. The girl steps to the view too.

Spider-Man’s head snaps upward the hallway.

He sees you.

He sees Frank.

And sees the position at the end of the hallway.

The girl looks later, still talking about the chilli that Frank had been cooking. Her eyes snap wide open when she sees the pair of other wide eyes staring at her from the end of the boat’s hallway. Her entire body turns on instinct. Fully away.

“Oh my God.”

And then she is gone.

“Cool, cool, cool! Very cool, so sorry. Sorry–” the younger boy stumbles over his own words, holding his hand out in front of his eyes as if it would cover whatever was happening. It’s not like you and Frank were naked or having a brutally intimate situation in the middle of the hallway, just a slight kissing with a sprinkle of something deeper. Spiderman follows the way of his friend, moving away from the hallway.

Frank’s voice is loud. Very loud. Deep, but loud.

“I swear to God, kid, I’m gonna kill you!”

Spider-Man’s voice comes right back, “your chilli is burned!”

“I don’t give a flying shit about the damn fuckin’ chilli!”

He yells back, his voice rising. His hand leaves your cheek, the other one still rests on your side, the grip no longer the same. Somehow, the boy in the mask continues, “you were cooking it, Frank! I thought you–” he doesn’t get the chance to continue as the older man practically yells out like a soldier back at him.

“Why the fuck can’t you leave me and my wife alone for five fucking seconds?”

And then it’s quiet.

But then you hear muffled voices, hushed. Trying to talk quietly. The girl’s voice and the boy in a mask. In your kitchen with that stupid, burned chilli that Frank was making before he brought two guests onto your boat. Their voices fade farther away, they’re probably shutting the door to let you two have a moment to compose.

You look at Frank, gaze moving from the end of the hallway.

Frank is looking down the hallway. Furrow between his heavy brows, frustration filling his face.

A small chuckle escapes you. You can’t help it. Then he turns and Frank’s eyes slowly move towards you, looking down from where his frustrated face is.

“Eeh–it’s goddamn funny, huh?” Frank nudges you with his voice. He doesn’t find it as funny as you do. You shake your head, disagreeing with the man, even if there is a small smile on your lips. Trying to cover the truth.

You slide your hand from his neck to his chest and smile up at him, “I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Nope.”

He gives you a long, exhausted look that says too many things to you. As if he is reconsidering every decision he has made today, he hates this entire day and night. The moments with you fill the blanks with good parts, other than that it's utter bullshit and a waste of a day. Spider-Man and his nonsense. Then a kiss, on your lips. Tiny and gentle before he pulls away and lets you stnd back up from the wall of the bot, moving slowly down the hallway with a blush in your cheeks that you could feel on your face and with a special feeling in your chest that sits there right now.

Behind that closed door, behind the guest room and another closed door is the kitchen. And in the kitchen are two guests who seemed to get quite updated on the life of a certain someone. Specifically Spider-Man who has known this man for a good while. He just did not notice, that’s all. MJ is making it a big deal.

“Wife? Wife?” Spider-Man throws his hands up, his voice is loud and high-pitched, “Frank is married?”

“You didn’t know that Frank had a wife?”

“No, I didn't! How was I supposed to know?”

“The ring on his finger?” MJ’s face is full of disbelief.

“What?

“What what?” she shakes her head so swiftly from side to side, wide eyes staring at him.

“He has a ring?”

“Oh my God, and you call yourself–”

“Well, sorry! I don’t notice rings on people’s hands when they’re shooting at me and others!” he exclaims loudly, throwing his hands up into the air as if he is throwing out some confetti.

“He had it on his hand right now! And you never even asked him–”

“No, I didn’t! Forget it, MJ. I did noooot know.”

And he knows that he is going to have an amazing conversation with Frank himself the next time.

୨ৎ feedback is very appreciated!!!!

i LOOVEDD spiderman brand new day, i saw it twice and i need to rewatch lol!! also obsessed with frank in this movie he's so silly! a bit diff in the show iyk lmfaooooo hope u enjoyed this!! <3

also first post on here hiii

[yumstoup]

࣪ ۫𓂅 kiss me more · kyojuro rengoku x reader

30 minutes.

30 minutes he’s being standing there, talking to whoever walks past him, with that sickening smile on his face. does he have zero idea what he’s doing to you?

your heart is pounding, your brain feels like its about to implode, your hands are involuntarily shaking.

you cant physically stand this anymore!

you advanced over to him and grabbed his hand softly, “kyojuro. i need you for a second.”

“ah! anything for you.” he spoke noisily before being yanked out of sight.

once you had him where you wanted him, you grabbed his face with both of your hands; making his eyes widen.

“wha—” “do you even realize what you’re doing to me right now?”

his smile dimmed a bit while he looked from side to side cautiously. “i..dont believe i do.”

“quit all that smiling…or i’ll kiss it off of you.”

it took him a second to even register what you’d said, before his smile widened. “that doesn’t sound like a pu—” kiss.

you saw him still smiling, kiss. over and over again, more kisses.

“ugh—you better quit it!” you whined, swatting at him and pouting like a wounded child.

“i truly can’t help it, my flame. please, kiss me more.”

[theinkofyourfeather]

mr. (inadvertently) steal your girl

pairing: kakashi x reader

tags: fluff (angst if you squint), friends to lovers, emotionally constipated kakashi, jealousy, kind of oblivious reader, no cheating, gai is a wingman

synopsis: kakashi would never intentionally do anything to derail your new relationship. it’s not his fault comparisons are easily done. how can one steal one’s girlfriend by simply existing?

or in which kakashi tries his hardest to keep burying his feelings but jealousy is harder to keep in check.

a/n: what was supposed to be a quick hc turned into a 4.5k fic that took me two months to finish. please.

masterlist

when he learnt you found a boyfriend, kakashi ignored gai’s pointed, totally not discreet, stare. the one that screamed ‘revolt against this injustice and declare the flame of your love before it is too late!’

truth was, he’d almost even felt relieved. it comforted the quiet certitude that he would not be good enough – that you, anyone, deserved better than a man haunted by his past. he could finally kill that flicker of hope that he selfishly harbored in spite of all this.

but he couldn’t, as it turned out. days bled into months, and with them, hope rotted into ache.

he even met the guy, once. at one of anko’s get-together night he only agreed to go because she mentioned you would pass by. she forgot to add he would too.

“ah, kakashi hatake, right?” the man had gripped his hand firmly with a gentle smile. “y/n talks a lot about you.”

his heart stopped. “oh.”

your boyfriend laughed, warm. “nothing bad, don’t worry.” but that was the furthest thing from his mind. “you seem to be a formidable shinobi, and an even more formidable friend. it’s nice to finally meet you in person.”

his throat was dry when he answered. “likewise.”

he hated himself for the resentment he couldn’t shake off. your boyfriend was a good person. he made you laugh. made you happy.

so kakashi ignored that foolish flicker whenever he’d hear you got into a fight with your lover. it was often because of the missions, the shinobi way of life that your civilian partner could not grasp fully. sometimes over more trivial things.

but it didn’t matter.

he’d be a good friend.

“you seem distracted,” the grey-haired ninja remarked the next month during a mission, catching your hazed gaze lost in the campfire you’d just set up.

“sorry,” even your voice sounded weird, all tangled. “lot of stuff to think about.”

a shiver rippled across your shoulder. kakashi was on his feet in the blink of an eye, nonchalant as he approached you quietly.

“it wasn’t a reproach,” he softly dropped the blanket he’d bought on the road– knowing how sensitive you were to the cold – on you. “just know i’m here if you want to talk.”

your lips parted in surprise. then you swiftly grabbed the blanket and tossed half over his knees.

“i–“ you scoffed as words ran dry on your tongue.

frustration etched itself in a deep frown as you found yourself unable to begin expressing the void that haunted you.

you shook your head in defeat “i’m bad at… saying things out loud.”

he knew.

but he’d been by your side long enough to have a pretty good idea of what was going on. “your parent’s anniversary was last week.”

not a question. your head whipped around, eyes wide in shock. “how do you…?”

how couldn’t he.

he still vividly remembered the hole in his chest as he witnessed, jaw clenched, powerless, your collapse in the hokage’s office when he broke the news of your parents’ death. you’d just return from a mission with him – that was the last time he saw you so carefree and enamoured with life.

he never forgot the date – years passed yet like clockwork, your smile still dimmed and you’d grow quieter each time the month came up.

“i visited rin and obito’s graves. thought i’d stop by theirs too.” the intensity you were staring at him with made his voice falter and he swallowed. “they were good soldiers. even better people. i… left flowers.”

he didn’t have time to catch his breath when you knocked it out of him – the brute force of your body colliding against him, your arms tightening against his shoulders, your chin digging into his muscle.

“oh kakashi,” your whisper was muffled by the folds of his cloth. “thank you. thank you.”

it was ridiculous to him that you’d thank him when he knew damn well you spent years honoring his former teammates’ own grave. not because they mattered to you – you had never known them much – but because they mattered to him. he hoped his gesture made you feel as intimately cared for as you made him feel – immensely less lonely.

“it’s just so hard, sometimes,” you frowned, throat tied in knots, ”to talk about it.”

hesitant, his arm closed protectively around your body. the effort you were willing to make to confide, vulnerable and hurt, made him all the more desperate to erase the pain in your voice.

“i tried to. with him.” kakashi stiffened, though he didn’t mean to. “i was on a mission that day and i couldn’t visit, so i asked him to buy flowers for them because bringing flowers is so–“ you swallowed like you could push down the emotions rising, “but when i came back he told me he forgot. i thought– i thought they’d think i didn’t care anymore–“

a gasp for air made your chest jump and kakashi clenched his hands. he stayed silent, not trusting himself with anything he could say.

“it was stupid but i– you– they did receive some in the end. god, kakashi,” his body shuddered when you buried your face deeper in the collar of his cloak. “sometimes i feel like you’re the only one who…”

you never finished your sentence.

kakashi never commented.

but from then, terrible as it was, he felt less guilty about his treacherous thoughts on your couple. less guilty about his wishful thinking.

but still, when push came to shove, he remained silent whenever the topic of your boyfriend was brought up.

he thought it was the respectful thing to do.

but of course, one day you’d catch him being too evasive. that happened on the way to your house, after a night out with your group of friends. you had confided a bit during the conversations – how you still had doubts about the compatibility with his civilian way of life.

kakashi kept his mouth closed the entire time. but now, when it was just the two of you and the moon watching tenderly over the pair of you, you begged for his opinion with pleading eyes.

“i don’t think i’m the best person for you to ask.”

you stopped, stunned by the answer. even when he didn’t know for sure, he always had a supportive comment or a thoughtful advice to offer – one that’d always appease your mind.

“uh? why?”

he glanced at you sideways. silence stretched as he seemed to carefully pick his words.

“i’m afraid i won’t be objective.”

relief relaxed your muscles and you chuckled, shoving his shoulder playfully as you resumed walking.

“good thing i don’t want objective! i want someone on my side. someone that wants the best for me. someone i trust. like you, kashi,” you spin around to send him a wide grin, the affection of your statement reflected in your eyes.

there was a flower tucked behind your ear – one you picked on your way, gasping when catching sight of the unlucky daisy whose stalk had been snapped in half by the force of the wind.

the vision of you made his heart jump a beat.

but kakashi hesitated again as he reached your level. his hands were shoved in his pockets nonchalantly, yet a weird tension simmered underneath his aloof exterior.

“sometimes i’m not sure if i want your best,” he starts slowly, a deep frown carved between his brows as he looked up to the starry sky. “or if i’m being selfish.”

your steps faltered – so did your smile. you hated the guilt in his voice even more than the confusion in your mind. “…what do you mean?”

you didn’t realize you were holding your breath until his response knocked it out of your lungs.

“what i mean is,” he set his gaze down on you, so intense you felt your stomach twist. “i can’t give you advices about him that won’t be coloured by what i want. so i prefer not to say anything.”

none of you brought up this half-confession again the days after, but that didn’t prevent you from thinking about it non-stop.

the way it made your head spin with possibilities – what the hell did he want that made him act so distant that night? did kakashi want you? or did he simply dislike your boyfriend? or was it something else entirely?

because if you listened to that treacherous, hopeful call of your heart – if you read between the lines, kakashi had just admitted he liked you. and that thought – it invaded your mind, it set your entire soul ablaze, it derailed your pulse the way nothing had before.

not even your boyfriend.

that much became clear when you were eating dinner, in the following days, and your eye caught sight of him cuting small pieces of the last few strawberries you had – you loved strawberries. your boyfriend put them all in one cup.

you realized, you didn’t even hoped it was for you. you knew he’d eat them all alone. if you asked, of course, he’d share. but it didn’t come naturally.

you didn’t know why that had bothered you so much – but it felt like a deep weight in your chest, nibbling at your heart; a voice that whispered in the back of your mind ‘will you really just settle with being an afterthought?’

and you only realized why that moment scarred you so deeply when a particular memory of your youth floated to the surface of your consciousness.

“those rations are the worst, honestly.”

“yes, y/n, you mentioned. three hundred times already, actually.”

raidō yawned, ignoring your glare. worst thing was you knew he thought the same thing – the little protein brown paste that were supposed to feed you for the entire duration of the mission were bland at best, disgusting at worst.

“i’m going to sleep,” your teammate announced, slipping into a makeshift bed composed mainly of large leaves.

your eyes scanned the edge of the forrest. “kakashi didn’t come back from his scouting round yet. it’s getting late, don’t you think?”

“who knows what he’s up to?” the brown-haired shinobi mumbled. “he’ll be fine. you wait if you wish. wake me up if you’re too tired.”

so you waited, gaze fixated on the darkness before you, ignoring the worry nibbling on your tranquility. what if he got caught? what if he was hurt? what if–

“yo.”

you shrieked, body moving quicker than your mind as it wrapped itself around the person, pinning them to the ground in a taijutsu headlock.

“well, now you just squished them.”

you blinked the fog of the night away, taking a second too long to recognise the wild silver hair and the familiar mask.

kakashi didn’t seem too surprised to find your thighs firmly enveloping his waist and your right hand around his throat. you could even bet he was amused by your fright. his own arm was blocking your other hand – which held a kunai that threatened to plunge into his chest. his fingers burned the skin of your wrist.

“are you crazy?” you whispered, promptly freeing him from your hold. a sudden coldness made you all the more aware of the feeling of his body under yours.

your heart raced. adrenaline, probably.

kakashi sat up when you shifted out of his lap, but his eyes locked on the grass surrounding you. you followed his gaze.

“what’s…”

strawberries were pouring from his pouch, some even scattered and indeed squished on the ground. no doubt because of you.

“i saw some on my way,” one hand rose to scratch his grey hair, his detached voice concealing something.

the corners of your lips had stretched into a wide grin before you realized. you saw those bushes on the way too. they were miles away.

“oh my god, kakashi,” your eyes sparkled with untamed excitement. “i could marry you right here.”

you missed the way he froze entirely – too busy picking up his pouch, a water jutsu splashing the fruits until they were ready to melt under your tongue.

you hummed in appreciation, shoving a few berries in his hands and diverting your gaze to offer him privacy while uncovering his face.

you had no doubt this little impromptu detour was spurred by your constant complaining about the rations, but you were fumbling under the weight of gratefulness, unable to find the right words.

“you know, i love strawberries,” you finally decided to say instead, your shoulder almost brushing his. “my parents used to pack me some in all my lunch boxes at the academy.”

you met kakashi’s gentle look, and warmth spread in your chest. how lucky were you to have someone like him

“i know.”

the rumors of your break-up only reached kakashi’s ears shortly after it reached gai’s. the energetic man had sprinted to his friend – challenging him to a duel.

“and if i remember well, my dear rival, it is my turn to pick!”

there was something too sparkly about his grin that kakashi noticed too late, once they were already stepping inside the yamanako flower shop.

“what are we doing here, gai?”

“i challenge you to a flower arrangement duel!”

“…no.”

gai gripped his friend by the collar before he could walk out. “kakashi! you must compete against me! if you do, i will offer you a secret piece of information of great value to you.

the grey-haired couldn’t believe such childish bargaining had worked on him but his curiosity was piqued.

ten minutes after, he was holding a small, simple bouquet to inoichi’s face. the shop owner was already busy examining gai’s composition with raised brows – colours clashing, wild leaves fighting off delicate petals, thorns threatening to rip the wrapping paper.

“well, that’s… interesting. honestly i’d–“

gai gripped the man, whispering something in his ear. inoichi’s gaze snapped to kakashi and he nodded.

“i’d say i can not compare two beautiful works,” he coughed a bit, avoiding kakashi’s doubtful look. “as a florist and a friend, i can not decide between you two.”

“oh no! how will we set the winner!” gai gasped dramatically. “we must–“

“you do know i just saw you say something to change inoichi’s mind?”

“–find someone else. oh my, is that y/n i see? let’s ask her!”

once again, the grey-haired ninja found himself dragged in the street by gai, but this time his senses were more alert, eyes scanning around him to spot you.

“oh i forgot to tell you the information, kakashi. y/n is single again!” not giving him the time to process his words, gai used all his strength to shove his friend in your direction.

except, gai was objectively very strong. his friend’s body came crashing on his target, sending the both of them on the ground. the copy ninja barely caught himself on his forearms to avoid crushing you with his weight. his nose brushed against yours.

you blinked.

“kakashi?”

a storm of thoughts swarmed his mind, yet one tamed the others.

you looked absolutely beautiful.

also, this position was widely inappropriate.

and you broke up with your boyfriend.

shooting an apology, he wasted no time grabbing gently your hand and effortlessly hoisting you up.

“what are those flowers for?” you smiled once you were back on your feet, and he suddenly remembered what brought him here and what his other hand was still gripping tightly.

“uh, it’s not– gai–“ he turned around to seek help but his friend was nowhere to be seen. only the chatter of the small shops nearby gave signs of life. the street where the two of you were standing was, in fact, desert.

of course.

the scheme he had been roped into was starting to make sense now.

“oh, those are my favourites!” you suddenly exclaimed, fingers brushing said flowers. “i haven’t seen them in forever.”

and kakashi stood there, dumbfounded, as he realized he already knew that. and that was probably why he even, unconsciously, gravitated towards those ones in the first place. because every fiber of his being seemed unable not to be wired to think of you. you, you, you, always you.

clearing his throat, the man ignored the fumbling sensation invading his body – focusing instead on the softness of your smile, the shine of your gaze as it rose from the bouquet to him.

“you should take them.”

your eyes widened in surprise, but you were quick to deflect with a sheepish laugh. “oh, no– i mean, if they’re meant for someone–“

“ah, forgive me,” kakashi couldn’t help the smile under his mask, a surge of affection soothing his nerves. “i should have made myself clearer. they are meant for you, y/n. please accept them.”

shit. the pout on your lips as your suppressed a grin made his heart clench.

after long seconds where the man stared down at you expectantly – wondering why the hell you would refrain from smiling – you began to squirm under his attention.

“why are you giving me flowers, hatake?” the teasing tone of your question failed to mask your suspicion. or frustration. whatever the reason why you hadn’t grabbed the bouquet yet.

he could feel the curious glances of some civilians passing by, but focused all this attention on deciphering what the look you had right now meant.

“well,” he started, and – because gai’s voice, y/n is single, was still ringing in his ear like a prayer – he couldn’t prevent the jealousy curiosity that, unprudently, pushed the words out of his mouth. “i’ve heard about your… separation.”

he had to pause to make sure he wouldn’t sound too satisfied.

“flowers always cheered you up. i hope they can celebrate a new beginning.” kakashi hoped he didn’t sound too cheeky.

maybe he did. your face slowly fell, the smile vanishing from your lips. his heart dropped, realizing immediately he chose his answer wrong.

“so… pity flowers,” bitterness coated your voice, and you raised your brows in a challenging manner.

his eyes widened. “no. it’s not–“

“kakashi,” you interrupted and his lips sealed shut immediately. “do you know who is the last person to gift me flowers?”

his mind jumped to the time your hands brushed his as you accepted his congratulatory bouquet – three months ago, when you passed the exam to become a sensei. you’d train genins starting next graduation.

but then, the face of your boyfriend – ex-boyfriend – replaced the memory, and, sour, kakashi chose to remain silent rather than even voice his name out loud.

his arm dropped, the flowers lowering until they hung upside down in his grasp, brushing against his leg.

your frown deepened when you broke the silence. “it’s you, kakashi.”

the world stopped spinning.

“and the time before that it’s also you. and probably a dozens of time before, too. and– fuck, this is exactly what happened!”

your voice shook as it rose, anger boiling with every exasperated thought that spilled from your lips.

“at some point, i realized i kept comparing you two– like a horrible, horrible girlfriend, because it’s just impossible not to notice everything he doesn’t know or doesn’t do when you exist!”

a heavy drop of water crashed on your forehead, and it seemed to shake you out of your monologue. you sighed, running a hand in your hair. rain began falling timidly, making the few passerby’s flee im search of a shelter.

“…sorry.”

you laughed, one that sounded all too much like disbelief. “out of all the things, you apologize for that? i’m not mad at you– i mean, i am, but not for that. i hate that you’re never honest with me about what it means to you when you do all these things. even today with those stupid flowers– sorry, no, they’re not stupid. you’re stupid. fuck. god, it took me years to–“

you cut yourself off with a silent gasp, like you were about to reveal a secret, one kakashi really felt like he’d want to hear.

“to what?” he took a step towards you, ignoring the way the rain grew heavier, soaking his clothes and the paper wrap around his bouquet.

you fled his gaze, your scowl wavering but still holding strong.

“kakashi.” your eyes blinked furiously to chase off raindrops. “do you love me?”

the man always believed hell would break loose if you ever found out what selfish feelings he harboured. but if it did seem like the skies were pouring out, flooding konoha, wind whipping vehemently against the walls and streets roaring with the clash of rain against pavements – kakashi never felt calmer.

he watched tenderly as your eyes found his, travelling along the sharp lines of his face, the wet strands of his hair dripping with water.

“yes.” the word came out like it was the easiest thing to say.

you swallowed. rain slid over your face. a beat passed. “since when?”

“i’m not sure,” he admitted slowly, carefully scrutinizing any of your reactions – any tick of your muscle. “a long time.”

your brows knitted together and you closed your eyes for a second, like the confession physically pained you.

“why didn’t you tell me?” you pleaded, and your voice wavered under the weight of emotion – guilt, regret, anger, kakashi couldn’t quite tell.

his heart clenched at the sight. gently, he grabbed your wrist and guided you to walk backwards, the ledge of a shop shielding you poorly from the rain.

your back softly hit the door. kakashi was so close, the bouquet he held with one hand brushed against your leg – his other hand slowly let go of your wrist. the heat of your skin touching his had made your pulse jump. but it was nothing compared to the intensity with which your longstanding friend was looking down on you, keys to a box of pandore hanging from his lips.

“shame. or cowardice.” his voice was steady, firm but not harsh, confident but humble – like he always was.

the hurt and confusion in your eyes called for his most serious, sincere words and that was exactly what he wanted to offer.

“it was never out of a lack of love, y/n. the pain, grief, and regret i have known convinced me good things never last long,” his eyes held your gaze gently. “i could not bring myself be so selfish as to risk losing or hurting you. you deserve more than a man like me.”

he avoided your gaze for a fleeting second, his face harsher. “but i can see that my actions still hurt you. forgive me.”

the kakashi you knew was a man of few words – a guarded man, who kept his deepest thoughts and feelings quietly locked inside. you peeked a few times, held your hands over the leeks to help him contain the grief that would sip through the cracks.

but this – his most open, vulnerable, truthful confession – you never dreamed of witnessing.

you feared you would never be the same again.

“sometimes, i don’t know if i want your best, or if i’m being selfish,” you finally mumbled after a long silence, eyes glossy.

kakashi seemed puzzled for a second, even more so when you pointed an accusatory finger at him.

“that’s what you told me, last time,” you continued, a deep frown between your brows. “i spent days trying to figure out how the most selfless person i knew could think that of themselves.”

his eye widened slightly.

“now i know,” your frown relaxed, brows quivering upwards instead, painting a saddened expression on your face. “i’m sorry i never realized what was going on in that head of yours.”

you took a step forward, your head tilting back to keep staring straight into his pupil. it was blown out, tracking your every move more closely than what his calm exterior let out.

you inhaled sharply, ignoring the frenetic beat of your heart. the rain seemed to slow around you, as if to also catch your next words.

“and i’m sorry it took me so long to recognize what i feel,” you said, and kakashi heard the guilt as much as he read it on your face. he gripped your fingers tighter, like he could erase it.

but then you moved even closer and he physically felt his body freeze – and time.

soft lips gently pressed against his – the material of the mask thin, yet it suddenly felt like a wall to kakashi.

the flowers slipped out of his hand, landing on the ground with a quiet thud.

it lasted a second.

one second for a kiss he spent a lifetime desiring and punishing himself for it.

“i love you,” you murmured, throat tight with emotion, eyes sparkling. “stupidly so. and i want you to be selfish. if accepting my love, and being with me seems selfish to you – i want you to be the most selfish man on earth.“

there was a moment of floating, where the pair of you just stood there, on the edge of the city who saw you grow and fall as one. the skies still poured its heart content around you, some raindrops finding their ways to you through the cracks of your shelter.

then a flash of skin – his two fingers hooked on the fabric of his mask and tore it down – and in a split second, his lips came crashing onto yours, palm shooting up to cradle the side of your face.

you wasted no time enveloping his face with your hands, kissing kakashi with all the sheer force of the love you stopped denying.

not caring that his hair was still dripping wet, you let your fingers tug run through his hair, swallowing his soft groans like a drunken sailor who’d not seen a drop of water for months.

“y/n,” kakashi whispered as you pulled away to catch your breath. “are you sur–“

your lips caught his again and the question died on his tongue as quickly as it was answered. his hand travelled to your waist, gripping it like he would fall otherwise – and you could have melted right here, right now, if he were not holding onto you so tight as he kissed so desperately.

none of you could tell how much time passed before you finally stepped away from each others. once your minds were clear enough to perceive anything other than the person standing before you, you realized the rain had weakened into a light drizzle, melodious songs from birds announcing the return of the sun before it peeked through the fleeting clouds.

kakashi could not tear his eyes from your face – maybe out of adoration, maybe out of fear to still read any sign that everything that happened was dream. only when you bent to pick up the forgotten flowers splattered on the ground did he seem to break from his daze

“c’mon. let’s go,” you grinned, the wet, dirty, squished, yet still radiant bouquet in your arms.

kakashi didn’t ask where.

he’d follow you anywhere anyway.

[twentymins]

"you forgot to close the blinds…" you groaned as the morning sunlight hit your closed eyes.

as you turned around to bury your face in his chest, you felt kakashi’s hand press on the top of your head, your cheek being squished against his chest.

"you were the last one to get to bed, it’s your fault, you go close 'em." he whined back as he threw his other hand on his eyes to block the light.

"it’s your house not mine."

"like i care. you go close them or i kick you out."

at that you abruptly sat up and glared at him. his left eye was already open and looking at you with amusement.

"you wouldn’t dare."

"watch me."

and before you could blink, you were in your pajamas outside his front door, banging on it like you just got locked out. because you did.

"KAKASHI!"

"go away, stalker."

kakashi was having a blast inside, laying on his bed with the blinds now closed, while his next door neighbor was peeking at you through his blinds out of curiosity as he heard the commotion coming from outside his front door.

you huffed and crossed your arms in annoyance. a glare was sent at the neighbor when your eyes met his, and he rapidly closed his blinds as he realized with horror that he had been caught being nosy.

"i’m gonna kill you."

"would love to see it!"

"this is so embarrassing."

"tell me about it!”

"i’m breaking up with you."

he stopped laughing immediately.

"have fun being single again, i’m sure genma will be more than happy to—"

but you soon heard the sound of the lock and were faced with your boyfriend’s cold stare. his smirk had been wiped away as fast as he got you outside.

"genma?"

"yeah, genma. you know, the guy who still has something for—“

but kakashi heard enough as he grabbed you by the waist to toss you back inside, forcing a squealing smile out of you as you were thrown on the mattress.

"yeah sure."

[whirlybirbs]

→ ┊   based on this, this, & this.

portgas d. ace, your best friend.

portgas d. ace cannot fuckin’ believe this is happening.

portgas d. ace swallows. his calloused hand trembles as he snakes it into his unbuttoned shorts.

all the while, he can’t look away from you — his best friend — touching yourself.

this whole thing started with an awkward conversation about the half-hard cock digging into your backside after an afternoon nap. there was no avoiding it, not when ace buried his face in his hands and grumbled something about being pent up.

you, in turn, made a joke about how you haven’t gotten off in weeks.

ergo: you get it, you’re pent up, too.

there was a beat of tension. then:

“you… uh… i mean, if you need to… take care of it…?” you said, eyes darting to the curve straining against the front of his shorts. ace felt dizzy. you chewed your thumbnail.

isn’t that how most things like this start, slow and curious?

“i mean, we’re best friends,” are the words that put the metaphorical nail in the coffin, mumbled around the nervous habit of a bitten nail, “think of it as… mutual support...?”

he agreed too quickly, swallowing down a bout of unnerving want.

“right. i’ll do me. you do you," he rasped, head nodding and pupils blown wide, "yea. mutual support. good thinkin’, scraps."

that nickname felt like foreplay. it punched the air out of your lungs.

and so it began: mutual support. more like mutual masturbation, but who's correcting the record in a moment like this? not ace. definitely not ace.

no, portgas d. ace is too busy trying to remember how to breathe. is it hot in here? it feels hot in here. fuck, yep, it’s hot because he’s doing the thing — the thing where sparks of ignition dance across the sweat on his skin. it’s a dead giveaway that he’s excited. losing his edge.

your hand steadies under the waistband of your underwear, your head against the pillow. ace lies beside you, your shoulders barely touching, body heat bleeding into one another. your leg is thrown over his thigh, and your bunk has never felt smaller.

portgas d. ace is panting, and not once do his eyes break from yours.

not when you bite your lip so hard it almost bleeds, not when he thumbs the head of his throbbing cock, not when you slip your fingers through your folds. his jaw falls open, nostrils flare, and finally, his eyes fall to the pearling of your nipples through your tank top.

“fuck,” he mumbles, “…is this… is this okay?”

“yea. yea, it’s… it’s good. are y-you good?” you breathe, and your eyes fall to the sight of his cock, pulled from his shorts. you almost whine, because it’s pretty. thick and throbbing and he’s stroking himself faster now and his forearms flex while he does and that’s your best friend—

your faces are close now, shoulders touching. your toes curl against his calf. your eyes dart back up to his. he’s staring while he nods, his gaze is intense. enarmored. the look in your heavy-lidded eyes is no better.

portgas d. ace’s abdomen tenses, his breath stutters, and he sighs out:

"keep — fuck — keep looking at me like that."

you’re biting your lip again when you nod, working a tight circle against your clit beneath your bottoms. your lashes flutter, and your breath hitches higher, and you make a soft sound in the back of your throat. his mouth is parted, and so is yours, and when you both huff out a needy pant, it mingles.

portgas d. ace can’t resist. his eyes snake down again, toward where your fingers work themselves quicker and needier beneath your bottoms — ace wets his lips, curses to himself.

this is uncharted territory. the kind of territory that isn’t supposed to exist between best friends.

“fuck, you’re so hot,” the honest appraisal rushes out like a tie between a prayer and a revelation, “m’close, scraps—”

portgas d. ace is fucking up into his own hand while staring at you, and good fuckin’ god, it is the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. his hips roll, his muscles tense, and you whine when you spy the precum beading at the head of his cock. you’re right there, right at the edge.

“—me too,” it breaks from your throat in a whisper; you squirm, and ace’s breath fans across your face, “i’m… i’m gonna—”

“yea?” his forehead knocks against yours, and he nods, “you gonna come?”

he’s goading you; his nose brushes against yours. you can’t help that his name trembles out of you with a hunger. “ace, ace—”

that’s all it takes. ace smothers the sound of his release in a kiss that’s devouring. it’s the sort of kiss that doesn’t happen between best friends. the kiss sends you over the edge, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you know that watching your best friend finish across his chest while you come around your own fingers isn’t really best friend material, either.

portgas d. ace, kissing you like a man starved while you finish hard enough to tremble, certainly isn’t going to complain. after all, you’re best friends. best friends help one another out.

…right?

[bae-fong]

jealous type adult! gaang x f!reader ⤷ how i think the gaang would react when they're jealous over you

warnings: possessive behavior, some of them are petty. some of them are immature. but hey, they're jealous, okay? avatar masterlist ⋆˙⟡

ladies first !

katara ~ a very jealous and possessive woman, but she does a great job at hiding it behind the surface. if she feels threatened in any way, she'll throw herself into the situation and make herself known. "hi! i'm her girlfriend!" she'd wedge herself between you and whoever she saw as the threat, grabbing the person's hand and giving it an enthusiastic shake, though behind her blue eyes she's wishing nothing but their death. "well, actually, soon-to-be wife, so~"

toph ~ she's a proud woman, and she's confident you wouldn't do a thing to threaten your relationship with her. it's not often she gets riled up, but boyyyy, if you make her jealous, she's going to make your day—and the person who tried to hit on you's—hell. she'd quickly earthbend a pebble right at the kid's face. and when you tell her to behave, she'd roll her eyes and say, "i am behaving. it's you who isn't."

andddd now for the men.

sokka ~ jealous 24/7 highkey. he's the type of guy who'd spy on you and the person you're talking to. he'd try to subtly hide behind a tree, poking his head out to watch you. or he'd try to hide behind a book—it's upside down, btw—to see what you're doing. "i can't believe it," he'd mutter to his friend zuko, who isn't paying attention at all. "that guy's got nothing on me. he doesn't even look cool."

aang ~ lover boy aang. oh, he's so patient and so kind. he very, very rarely gets jealous. but when he does, he's such a big grump. pouting, brows furrowed, arms crossed, lip caught between his teeth in frustration. he'll try to hold onto his patience for as long as he can, but when he snaps, he'll grab your arm and gently pry you away from the person. "alright, that's enough. you've already had your fun with her. it's my turn."

zuko ~ there's a reason people edit him to this song. he swears he's not the jealous type, but he's literally the most jealous man you've ever met. over the littlest things, too. like if someone looks at you for too long or compliments your dress or your hair. he'll even use his social standing to his advantage just to get what he wants. "as your fire lord, i command you to never make eye contact with my wife again!" it's unreasonable, and he knows it, but fuck. he can't help it.

+ bonus! a poly relationship with the whole gaang! ⊹ ࣪ ˖ i'd imagine sokka would be the messenger. he sees you alone, getting hit on by some random guy, and he's the first to relay it to the rest of the group. they all come in, surrounding you, their eyes piercing the poor guy. the greatest earthbender. the fire lord. the avatar. the master waterbender. the chieftain of the southern water tribe. all standing right behind you like they own you. the poor guy doesn't even stand a chance. "is something the matter?" you ask the guy, completely oblivious to the daggers your lovers are glaring into him right behind you. "u-um... nothing!! forget i said anything!!!"

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Imagine Law’s reaction when you refuse to leave the Straw Hats for your safety…

Part 1 | Part 2

Law wanted to take you away for protection. You refused and he marched out in a fit of anger. A hollowness spread through your stomach as Sanji brightly asked what you wanted for dinner.

“I- sorry Sanji. Nami might be better suited here. I think I might catch an early night.” You apologised and walked out of the kitchen as quickly as you could, only catching a part of Sanji’s verbal distaste for Law ‘spoiling your appetite’.

You walked through the hallways of the Thousand Sunny, all thoughts returning to him. Law would have sulked himself back to the Polar Tang. He would have ignored Bepo asking why he was back empty handed and he would have grumbled his way to the study before ordering them to set sail.

This was it. You had had the last encounter with the man who chose to love you before Doflamingo caught up and, quite possibly, ended your life.

Bracing a hand against the wall, you felt a sharp pain in your chest. Should you have gone with him? You started to feel warm. Why did you have to lose him?

Your darker thoughts faded to smoke as the sound of laughter came echoing through the hallway. Straightening up, you quickly regained composure. You could despair once everyone had fallen asleep.

A door opened and Robin walked in with Chopper at her side, tears in his eyes from laughing so hard. The woman cast her eyes over you, she was observant so if she noticed something, Robin was kind to not say anything.

“Will you be joining us for dinner?” Robin inquired.

Chopper jumped in the air. “Sanji said he’s making sweet dumplings for dessert!”

You smiled at his excitement and then addressed the pair. “Not tonight. But I hope you enjoy the food.”

Robin nodded. As the duo passed, you let out a small breath of air in relief that there weren’t any additional questions. Had this been Nami, she would have dragged you into the kitchen to explain.

Robin paused behind you and glanced over her shoulder. “If you’re heading back to the cabins, could you collect my book from the deck?”

It was a simple request to which you agreed. Books should never be left to withstand the turbulent sea for too long. Agreeing, you changed course. Thankful that you knew the historians favourite reading spots.

You walked out onto the deck quite pleased for the distraction. You didn’t want to think about the man who was leaning against the guard rail.

Wait, what?

You blinked a few times and, true enough, Law was still aboard the Thousand Sunny. Abandoning the book quest, you walked across the wooden planks to him.

“I thought you left.” You told him.

Law turned his head away, looking out to the ships edge. He exhaled softly and you understood. He was angry at your choice to stay with the crew but he still found himself unable to depart with the knowledge of giving up on you.

He couldn’t leave you.

Walking up to stand beside him, you faced the vast and open sea. As much as you wanted his touch, you respected that it was his to give. And so, you stood there sharing the night air quietly never disclosing that your true thoughts were of one another.

That is until you chose to break it - just to hear his voice.

“Law-kun,” you said softly, noticing the faintest shift of his shirt - he was listening. You watched as the ocean waves lapped against the hull of the ship and took his silence as response. “Promise that you won’t part with me angry.”

When he left the room after you refused to leave the crew, your fears began to flood your senses. The biggest of them all being that you would be killed on the open sea without his warmth in your heart.

Suddenly, a firm tattooed hand wrapped itself around your waist. It pulled you back until you were pressed into Law’s chest. You leaned against his body trying to soak up his body heat and relish his scent for as long as you had him. His head dipped to your neck until his lips set a wicked fire against your cold skin.

“I promise.” Law whispered.

Part 1 | Part 2

~ More One Piece imagines ~

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Imagine Law getting jealous of a gift you were given on Dressrosa…

Law had sent you to scout the area for any pursuers. He needed the handover for Caesar to be discreet and without issues from Doflamingo or Marines.

Recapping the plan with the Straw Hats, Law took a sip of his tea to keep up the pretence of being visitors. His ears picked up the familiar sound of your footsteps approaching before you took a seat beside him. You picked up a biscuit from his plate and took a bite.

“We’re in the clear so far and we haven’t been followed. Nami also confirmed that they’re out of sight.” You explained.

Usopp exhaled, “That’s good news.”

Law was about to hum in agreement when he realised that there was something different about you.

The rose. There was a rose behind your ear.

He had never stopped for flowers on Dressrosa - so who did?

“Where did you get that rose?” Robin inquired, passing you a cup of tea. “It’s quite beautiful.”

You reached over the table for some berries. “It was from someone I met in town - Cavendish.”

Cavendish?! Law choked on his drink. How dare that scoundrel gift you things like a lover.

Law wasn’t a jealous person but he had heard of Cavendish’s ‘beauty’ effect on people.

Had you swooned over the blonde pirate? Were you flattered by the gift? Had Cavendish personally placed it behind your-

“Law-kun, you’re hurting my hand.”

Law gasped and looked down at the table where he was indeed squeezing your fingers. Letting go, Law turned away from you, pretending that it didn’t happen.

The stupid flower had ignited a flame in his chest.

You took back your hand and rubbed the ache with a small frown. Law sensed an unfamiliar emotion from you before you stood up and announced that you would do another sweep for threats. Law didn’t watch you leave but he did know that he had an unwanted audience.

“Shiorororo…” Caesar laughed softly. “Are you jealous, Law?”

“Tsk.”

Robin giggled. “There’s no shame in it, you know.”

Standing up, Law instructed that they stay put and watch over Caesar before he removed himself from the conversation.

He walked along a randomly chosen alley and let his mind wander back to that word - jealous.

His feelings for you had gotten stronger, this much he knew. And against his will, he found himself much more wary with the way interested parties interacted with you.

Law stopped suddenly when he saw rose petals scattered on the ground. A few steps ahead, there was another group of torn petals. He followed the broken florals until he saw you standing against a bridge railing, looking out over a water stream.

“That was a gift.” Law stated, announcing himself.

You glanced at him over your shoulder, “You hate it.”

Law sighed and stopped just beside you. “I hate the fact that someone else gave it to you.” He answered.

You let out a soft breath and hummed over the bridge. “The great Trafalgar Law jealous. I thought it was impossible.”

Law glanced at you, a small smile on his face. “Me too.”

He leaned over and brushed his lips against your neck. It was his silent promise to do better while he had the privilege of your heart.

~ More One Piece imagines here ~

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Imagine Law being furious with the Straw Hats for letting you walk into danger…

Law was tired of his plans being derailed by the Straw Hats. There was only one person on that crew who could calm his annoyance. He looked around and asked for you. That’s when he noticed that the Straw Hats began to avert their gaze.

“Where is Y/n?” He demanded more pointedly.

Zoro yawned. He pointed to the left and Law followed along until his stomach dropped at the only thing in that direction.

The enemy base. What were you doing there?

Fury flooded his senses, fear invaded his heart. Law grabbed the collar of Zoro’s kimono.

“You let them walk in there without support?”

“Oi, oi.” Zoro calmed. “Luffy is there too.”

Knowing that the Straw Hat captain was by your side should have brought Law comfort - but it didn’t. Luffy was known to be unpredictable.

He was about to yell again when a chirpy, optimistic voice called out his name.

“Oh! Traffy! You’re here!” Luffy greeted.

Law released the swordsman. He turned around and instead of looking at the young Straw Hat, his eyes trailed to the right. You were walking alongside your captain with a smile… there was a cut on your lower lip.

“Room.” Law said immediately. “Shambles.”

The next step that you took had you crashing into Law’s chest with a surprised, “Oh!”.

He took a breath, letting your familiarity ground him and calm the nerves. Law placed his fingers under your chin and tilt your smile up. His eyes landed on the cut and analysed its severity.

It was minimal damage but he had to be absolutely certain that you weren’t in…

“Law-kun, I’m okay.” You told him. One of your hands was pressed against his chest, no doubt feeling his erratic heartbeat. “I’m safe.”

That voice, the softness of your touch… did you not understand the effect that you had on him? Did you not understand that you occupied his heart beyond what was acceptable?

“You shouldn’t have walked into something like that.” Law chided softly.

He let you lean in and bump the tip of your nose against his. “Maybe not but we discovered something very important. You need to hear this.”

Law let out a small relieved sigh and conceded to you. He let you take his hand lead him over to where Luffy and the rest of the crew had gathered.

After this business was finished, Law was going to have a stern word with the Straw Hat captain about endangering your life unnecessarily.

~ More One Piece imagines here ~

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Imagine shielding Law from Vergo’s attack on Punk Hazard…

He had disappeared without telling you of his plan - again. And now you were mad with him again. And worse, Law’s vivre card in your pocket had begun to fray at the edges telling you that he was in danger.

So, with the blessing of Luffy, you pursued Law. The card guided you through several passageways and turns until you finally stumbled upon a group of guards who had suffered at the hands of Law’s ‘room’.

The door that they had been guarding was open and so you snuck inside, keeping to the shadows. You noticed large tanks with strange liquids in them. Eyes trailing down, you read the word ‘SAD’ and then you looked further below and…

That’s when you saw him bleeding and injured on the ground. Law’s hat had flown off during the fight leaving his dark hair ruffled and free.

Vergo stood tall before him with Law’s heart in his hand. He squeezed and it was like your own heart had stopped. Law groaned as he clutched his chest, feeling what you could only imagine as excruciating pain.

Suddenly, Vergo released his hold. He silently watched Law gasp for air. Then he raised his bamboo cane above his shoulder, hand and cane turning dark - armoured.

“Goodbye Law.” Vergo stated, his haki-enforced weapon coming down on his opponent.

Your body moved faster than the marine and you flung yourself over the captain of the Heart Pirates. Your hands cradled Law’s head to your chest while the rest of you tried to protect his torso.

A metallic clash! rang in your ears. You had expected pain, even death, but neither came for you. Law grunted from beneath and you opened your eyes to see the man glaring over your shoulder - his arm outstretched.

Following the gaze, you realised that in the last second, Law had summoned enough strength to stop the blow to your back with his own sword.

A shield for a shield.

Vergo pulled back, visibly frustrated when his shoulders tensed. You sensed it too - another presence in the room.

“Smoker.” Vergo stated. He ignored you and Law as he turned to face the dual-cigar smoking Marine.

Law dropped his sword and you quickly moved to sit behind him to spare his head from cracking against the ground. You brushed through his hair on instinct and, despite all of Law’s habits to refuse help, he melted against your body.

Both of you hoping that Smoker would be enough to stop Vergo.

~ More One Piece imagines ~

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Imagine Law admiring your smile…

The excited squeal that came from Bepo reminded Law of the Straw Hats fuzzy doctor. His second-in-command had wandered off to explore nature and returned with an armful of bright flower petals.

Bepo ran to show the rest of the crew and whizzed past where Law was enjoying a quiet, grassy field with you.

Initially, he had resisted, wanting to stay on the Polar Tang for research but when you pled your case for him to join, he felt his barriers crumble. Law was still trying to understand why you affected him so much but there were no books on this particular topic.

Until then, he’d learn to adapt.

It was the middle of an open field and you were sitting on the ground fiddling with the glass blades. Law had his head in your lap, eyes cast up at the sky - and on occasion, at you.

The blur of black and white left behind a light shower of brightly coloured petal. Law personally didn’t care for it but when his eyes moved to you, at the way you beamed… his mind went silent.

He could have sworn that you were glowing.

The content sigh that left your lips made his heart squeeze.

“I like it when you do that.”

You looked down at him and tilt your head, slightly puzzled. “Do what?”

Law brought a hand to your face and let his thumb trace your lower lip. “Smile.”

You had turned his life upside down in the best way possible. You found his heart, made a home, and redecorated with the emotions he had stored away. You made him believe in something more than freedom and happiness.

Law didn’t believe in miracles - but he was certain that you were guided to him by Cora-san. And he promised that would find the courage to say the words that he never got to echo to the man who saved his life.

I love you.

~ More One Piece imagines here ~

A/n: I don’t think I’ll ever be over Corazon 💔. I wish I was still on the one piece anime hiatus.

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Imagine putting Sanji and Zoro in their place…

The Arlong pirates put up quite the fight. But, with Luffy’s support backing each of you, it was nothing that you couldn’t handle.

You had split from the group temporarily after being pursued by two of the fishman pirates. They managed to land a few bruises but you caught their patterns and, with decisive strikes, knocked them down.

When you returned to Arlong Park, Zoro and Sanji were in their own individual battles. You watched as they fought in sync, like they had done this hundreds of times.

As you observed, you noticed that another fishman pirate had snuck up from the water. Reaching into your belt, you pulled out a dagger and sent it whizzing through the air. It made impact with the fishman, sending him down but not before Zoro and Sanji delivered their own blows.

Zoro frowned and turned to the cook. “I had that one.”

“If you had him, I wouldn’t have got him.” Sanji stepped forward with a smirk.

You approached. Passing between them before they chose to tackle each other, you collected your dagger - the real weapon that defeated the pirate - in a slow motion to ensure that they caught on.

Turning to them, you stepped over to Zoro and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Then you moved to Sanji and pressed another light kiss to his cheek.

“I think it’s cute when you’re both wrong.” You teased, enjoying the way Zoro and Sanji had been stunned into silence.

You spot Usopp emerging from another gate at Arlong Park and waved before bolting in his direction.

“I’m wrong?” Zoro frowned.

“They think it’s cute?” Sanji wondered.

~ More One Piece imagines ~

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Imagine trying to hide your hand injury from Sanji…

He was chopping vegetables for a pie when you walked into the kitchen. Politely, you smiled at him and Sanji felt his heart burst with a warm light. He tried to channel it back into his cooking, making a mental note to save you a second helping of dinner just for being so you.

He worked away quietly and listened to you rustle about. Cupboards opened and closed. Drawers slid out and then back in again. Another cupboard clicked shut in disappointment.

“What are you looking for?” He wondered, eyes focused on the carrots on his board.

“Just some bandages.” Your reply was too casual for that specific item and it caught his attention.

Sanji turned his head, glancing briefly at the cabinet of medical supplies and wondered aloud, “Oh, why?”

He noticed almost everything about you. The way you closed your eyes and smiled under the sun. The way you tapped your foot to good music at a town bar. The way that you winced when you hid your hands behind your back… wait, what?

Slowing his knife work to a complete stop, Sanji moved his whole body to face you.

“What’s wrong?” He asked because something was certainly wrong.

“I-nothing...” You stuttered. Something you only did when caught red-handed amongst the crew. “I think I’ll just go.”

When you moved to leave, Sanji stepped forward and held out his hands, “Whoa now, you came in here for bandages. Let me help you.”

You looked at him and, again, Sanji had to steel himself from melting into the floorboards. After a quiet minute of consideration, you nodded. “Okay.”

Sanji let out a breath of relief and led you to the small table by the window. On his way, he grabbed the small bag of medical supplies that he picked up at the last town.

He took a seat opposite you and opened the supplies. “What are we patching up?” He asked.

This time you looked at him like he was going to bite - which he would never do without your permission. Then very slowly, you raised your hands to the table and turned them palm up, revealing bright red blood where the skin had peeled off.

Sanji felt his heart drop. How had your beautiful hands been so damaged and how much pain have you been in since then?

He gingerly took your hands in his and got to work. You didn’t seem to like it when he asked questions but maybe he could get an understanding of what happened through conversation.

~~~

Zoro was up in the Crows Nest. His eyes were closed, hands behind his head as he started to doze off. His mind clearing until…

Boom!

The kitchen door burst open. A furious kick from an equally furious chef.

“They tripped over your swords?” Sanji’s voice boomed from below. “Moss head, where are you?”

Zoro exhaled, exercising patience and disguising a hint of nerves. “Shit.”

~ More One Piece imagines here ~

A/n: Inspired by real-life events when I body slammed into the sidewalk and messed up my hands twice in two months. Silly, silly!

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Imagine Sanji confessing to Zeff that he wants to marry you…

Zeff was tired of the flirting. There was something going on between his sous-chefs and as sweet as young-love could be, Zeff was concerned that you both were dancing in circles.

Sanji had just given you a flirtatious comment before you headed out of the kitchen for more icing sugar. The blonde cook was beaming, his smile reaching his eyes until he turned and came face-to-face with Zeff.

“Last night, what were you doing in the kitchen so late?” Zeff demanded.

There was a small flush on Sanji’s cheeks. A heated kiss had him lean in closer which pressed your back against the counter...

Zeff noticed the distant look and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Never mind, I don’t want to know.” He grumbled. “Stop messing around in my kitchen when you’re feeling lovestruck.”

Sanji narrowed his eyes at his father-figure. “Don’t you worry about that. Once I’ve asked Y/n to marry me, we won’t need to sneak around.”

Zeff’s eyes widened. The silence between them was thick despite the banging of pots and pans around the various cooking stations. He grabbed Sanji’s elbow and quickly pulled him towards his office.

Pushing the boy inside, Zeff locked the door. Thoroughly surprised, Sanji whirled around. “What are you doing? I wasn’t finish-”

“This isn’t a joke, Sanji.” Zeff frowned, his voice slightly raised knowing that they couldn’t be overheard. “Are you really thinking of proposing?”

Sanji’s mind wandered into an imagination where you baked pastries with his ring on your finger and his hard expression softened. He stepped forward and pointed to the door where he knew you were busy working away.

“That out there is the most kind soul I have ever met. I would go to the ends of the Earth for them. I would give up my dreams to find the All Blue in a second if they asked.” Sanji declared. “All my life, it’s been a raging whirlpool of pain, chaos and anger. And every time that I think I’ll drown, Y/n reaches in and brings me to life.”

Zeff had seen Sanji go through the many phases of affection before you came along. And he had never seen something like this before. The devotion he had to you was fierce as it was intense.

Resting his hands on his hips, Zeff stopped scowling. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.”

Sanji had also calmed his emotions. He took a seat at the empty table, leaning forward and resting his arms against the wood.

“I’ve been wanting to propose for months. I have the ring and everything.” He said sadly. “I almost dropped on one knee in the pantry but-”

Zeff’s face scrunched up. “Alright, I really don’t want to know about what happened in there.” He said effectively diverting the conversation away from that singular event.

Sanji shook his head and glanced at the door. “I almost did it last week too but that stupid pirate captain kept stealing Y/n away to compliment the dishes.”

It was clear that Sanji wanted to marry you. And Zeff, despite constantly being frustrated by the two of you, couldn’t be happier. He had hoped for Sanji to experience a love beyond cooking and you were the perfect choice.

Sanji lowered his head. “Go on. Tell me that you don’t think I should.”

Zeff moved forward and slowly took a seat opposite the young man. “I can’t, Little Eggplant. I’ve watched you persevere against impossible odds and I think that if your heart and your head are both aligned in this decision, then the only way is forward.” He supported.

Sanji looked at the man in awe. He certainly hadn’t been expecting the response. But appreciated it nonetheless.

“We should probably head back. Can’t have you going soft on me, old man.”

Zeff leaned back in the chair. “Wouldn’t be a good look.” He stood up as Sanji did the same. “But at your wedding, I’m doing the cooking because your talents, Little Eggplant, are abysmal.”

He walked by the blonde-cook. Sanji tilt his head and smirked. “Only if my other half agrees.” He quipped and paused his walk. His stomach flipped as he said those words - his other half. There was something about it that made him feel warm and safe.

Zeff looked back to give a witty reply but saw Sanji’s expression. His ‘Little Eggplant’ was no longer a bratty child (on his good days).

“Apples.” Zeff stated loudly to snap Sanji from his frozen state. “You and Y/n can take the day tomorrow to sail out and replenish the stock that you damaged.” He opened the door a smidge, letting the noisy kitchen drown his next words. “And don’t bother coming back until there’s a ring on their hand.”

~ More One Piece imagines here ~

A/n: This was one’s been in my drafts for two years! It’s time to see the light!

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Imagine fuming at Shanks after Luffy comes home with powers…

Shanks cleaned the young boys wound and sighed. “Y/n is going to kill me.”

“They could never challenge the mighty Shanks!” Luffy declared with a fist in the air making the pirate laugh a little.

“You’d be surprised. I’m probably more terrified of them than any Sea King on the ocean.” He confessed.

Luffy frowned but winced when his cheek stung. “Ouch, why?”

Shanks smiled and began stitching. “Because when you love someone, you don’t want them to be mad at you. And you certainly don’t give them a reason.”

Luffy seemed to be half-listening when the word ‘love’ was brought into the conversation. Shanks spent the next half-hour, ensuring that he was cleaned up and learned the value of scars. He left the young boy at the table and went to the bar for a refill. He needed to find you and explain what had happened before Luffy phrased it as a ‘battle scar’.

Unfortunately, his planning was cut short by another pirate crew who chose to destroy Party’s Bar after realising that there was no booze. Then to make matters worse, he discovered that Luffy ate the Devil Fruit that he had hidden away.

It had been an eventful few hours on this island. Shanks leaned across the bar and glanced at Makino who was tidying the other end. “On a scale from 1 to 10, how upset do you think Y/n will be?”

The woman hummed. “Considering that they protect Luffy like their own, I think the scale is broken.”

“Shanks!” Your sweet voice raised enough to send a chill down the pirates spine - a rare thing. You entered the bar with a scowl and beelined straight for the red-haired man.

Shanks rose to his feet, hands shooting up in surrender as you marched to a stop just before him. A delicate finger was jabbed into his chest where his heart drummed.

The way you were frowning at him made Shanks want to lean forward and kiss you senseless. But even he knew that would have to wait.

Taking in a sharp breath, Shanks offered a gentle smile. “Now, I can explain.”

“Which bit? The scar or the stretchy limbs?” You asked.

Shanks’ expression dropped a little. He had hoped to be the one to tell you about both in person. The original plan would have resulted in brief anger before he kissed it away and you both ended up in the captains quarters. But it seemed that Luffy was far too excited to keep anything quiet for a few minutes.

“Whichever one that doesn’t result with my head in a basket?” Shanks wondered.

If he played his cards right, there was a chance to win you over. If he failed, you’d probably never let him kiss you again - and that simply would not do.

~ More One Piece imagines here ~

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Imagine Shanks being worried about your injury…

With a small flick of your wrist, you shook out the dull ache that was trying to settle into the bones. Having a friend who owns a small island bar often attracted a pirate or two looking for a fight.

After seeing enough smashed brawls and helping repair the furniture well into the night, you had taught yourself how to fight.

Although it was basics, clearly you had done a decent job as you landed a clean right-hook into the jaw of a small pirate crew who had started to stir up trouble with a friendlier team - the Red-Haired Pirates.

Shanks was seated at the bar and staring at you with an expression of what seemed like awe. “I was going to ask if you needed a hand but it looked like you had it under control.” He called out as you approached.

“Ever the gentleman, Shanks. I-whoa…” you stumbled over nothing and into the post of Party’s Bar. Something didn’t feel right.

A blur of red and Shanks was on his feet before you with alarming speed. He had a hand on your shoulder to keep you steady. His other went to your waist but he immediately recoiled.

“You have a knife wound.” He informed and called out for his ships doctor. You could have sworn that there was a twinge of concern in his voice. But it instead of analysing that, you tried to register what he said.

A knife? How had you missed it?

“I would have intervened sooner if I saw his blade. I’m sorry.” He apologised while applying pressure to your abdomen. You clenched your jaw and dropped your head to his shoulder in an effort not to cry out. “Hold on, Hongo will be here any second now.”

Your knees were starting to buckle. Naturally you shifted your weight to Shanks who clearly realised and scooped you into his arms. He turned and brought you to the literal bar counter. Manoeuvring carefully, you heard the clutter of bottles and glass as they landed on the floor before Shanks lifted you slightly higher and placed you on the counter top, back pressed flat against the cool surface.

“Makino isn’t going to be pleased.” You commented as the pressure retuned to the wound site.

“I’ll personally clean it up.” Shanks said. “How are you feeling?”

You stared at the thatched roof. “Like someone is about to pour rum over me.”

Shanks chuckled lightly. He shook his head and you glimpsed the small smile on his face. “I’ll confess that I’ve wanted you kiss you silly in this exact spot.“

“Shanks, you can’t say that to someone who is bleeding out.” You laughed and immediately groaned in pain. When the ache returned to a dull fire, you blinked back at him. “How long have you thought of kissing me?”

“From our first encounter.” He answered.

Wincing at the pain as it flared up once again, you closed your eyes. “I’ll make it my motivation to not die here then.”

Shanks brushed the hair from your face and stroked your jaw. He was probably hoping for Hongo to show up soon. If not, the dream of a steamy bar-top kiss would never come true.

~ More One Piece imagines here ~

A/n: posted earlier than Friday because Shanks!