💥~☆ Yippee, my first long form fanfic, I'm hoping to keep working on trying to write longer fics alongside headcanons, this was a very fun one to do. I love Ace a lot~☆
You still remember the first few days on the Moby Dick, Jozu had found you in one of the storage crates, you’d managed to climb in there, hiding from celestial dragons when the Whitebeard pirates had docked at the Sabaody Archipelago.
Since that day, you had been part of the Whitebeard Pirates for a good few years now, moving through the ranks until you eventually got your own division centred around making sure to keep track of all of the crates on the ship. A disorganised ship, especially one that was such a behemoth wasn’t good and therefore, your eye was essential in keeping things moving smoothly.
When pops had first found the spade pirates and consequentially found Portgas D. Ace, getting him to accept any shred of care was like getting a cat to willingly jump into the bath… pretty much impossible. Whenever you tried to get close to him, you'd hear the same damn thing.
“Listen, I don't know what game you and this damn crew are playing, but i’m not letting my guard down, you can’t stop me”
Each day is the same routine, Ace tries to attack Whitebeard, Whitebeard entertains it for a little bit before that booming laugh is heard and Ace is promptly thrown out of the captains quarters and onto the deck outside. Sometimes Ace even ends up tangled within the netting that is pulled tightly between two of the front masts of the Moby Dick. Originally, they had been used by the Whitebeard Pirates in the old era when Marco first got his mythical zoan devil fruit, the first division commander and doctor of the whitebeard pirates had fallen a lot from the crows nest or general gliding around the place whilst he was still getting used to it. Those ropes had been a lifesaver for the doctor.
“When do you think that boy is going to realise that he can't beat pops?”
Vista asks, a lazy grin on the rose blade wielding burly man, he uses one hand to twirl his moustache.
“Its a good show, but even I know when a boy goes from being seen as a ‘threat’ to becoming part of a joke. I'm starting to feel some secondhand embarrassment"
Vista's other hand rests on the handle of his cutlass, the silver blade engraved with roses that have been dyed in order to turn them red, Vista's blades were always something to marvel at.
“Well, I better hes got another week in him. His crewmate, Deuce I believe, he did say that Ace is quite stubborn… Besides, I hope that he doesn't give up soon. I have a thousand berries riding that he lasts another week”
“...You've been betting?”
“Hey! Thatch and Teach started it! I just joined in. C’mon, as long as Ace lasts another week then Teach doesn't win!”
You try to defend yourself, only for Vista to chuckle and shake his head.
It takes a good week before Ace stops trying to make attempts on Whitebeard's life, you think it's because the flame fruit user ended up with a broken ankle from getting flung into the mast a bit too hard when Ace had tried to kill Whitebeard whilst pops was in deep sleep. The yonko could barely hold back his strength when he was awake, it was practically impossible when pops was actually asleep.
It takes another month before you eventually find Ace on the deck, the stars are out and there's only a few deckhands that are on watch tonight. Flames flicker across Ace's shoulders as he is lent back on one of the storage crates that the ropes for the sails are attached to. Ace seems to be glaring at the ocean, his brow is furrowed under that orange hat of his.
“Hey”
Ace flinches at the sound of your voice and he glares up at you tiredly.
“Is it alright if I sit?”
“If this is some-”
Ace starts but you quickly interrupt him. Its been a whole month of failing over and over to try and get through to him, you'd tried food which had worked for some time, but honestly? It was hard to give even the most basic of affection to Ace, he would always move back from a shoulder pat from Thatch or getting clapped on the back by Jozu.
“No, it's not manipulation. That's not what I'm trying to do, you do know that if you really want to leave then you can, right? We aren't going to force you to join if you don't want to”
“Don't you mean ‘family’?”
Ace says bitterly.
"That's what everyone calls it here, some damn family”
“...I guess you don't like that we call it that, huh?”
You say as you carefully move over and position yourself on another storage crate close by, making sure that you aren't encroaching on his space.
“Family abandons you. They aren't there when you need them, they just follow their selfish dreams and you're supposed to just forgive them because you share blood, it's bullshit!”
Ace snaps, it isn't hard to spot the tension in his body or the fact that those warm dark brown eyes are filled with an anger that Ace has never been able to actually express. Anger that is probably deserved, nobody gets that angry unless someone deserves it.
“Stay angry”
“Huh?”
Aces head snaps up and his hat falls slightly, the string around his neck letting that orange hat rest against his back.
“I said, stay angry, but know this. We won't give up on you if you're angry. You're allowed to be angry and stay angry. You do not owe anyone forgiveness, especially not family… and you're allowed to remember the pain. You don't have to forgive and forget. Just.”
You sigh, reaching your hand over and gently placing it on Aces shoulder, smiling at him.
“Just know that we will let you leave if you actually want to. Family is chosen here, all of us chose to follow pops, most of us come from broken homes and those that didn't want to stay? They left”
Ace is quiet, the quietest that you've seen him since the firework of a man had first made contact with the Whitebeard Pirates.
It's a good few minutes of silence and you let your hand fall away from his shoulder as you stare out at the sea with Ace.
“...Have you ever been judged here?”
Ace asks quietly.
“No, never” You answer truthfully.
“I…dont want to leave”
Ace finally admits.
“I’m just not used to this...any of it…I'm Ace. Portgas D. Ace”
Ace puts his hand out, voluntarily giving over his name and you smile as you take his hand.
“Y/n. It's good to meet you Ace”
“Hey, uhh, do you know where I can get some food?”
Ace says sheepishly, rubbing his hand at the back of his neck, his stomach was aching. Ace had been refusing to eat the food left outside his quarters out of defiance but also caution and he was really wishing that he hadn't been so stubborn.
“Thatch is asleep at this house. He's the one with the amazing orange hair, I'll introduce you to him in the morning. But I'm sure I can make you some, I'm hungry too”
It seems as if food is truly the way to this man's heart as Ace practically inhales every bit of food that you make. He tries to help, but ends up burning some of his portion with his flames, but he eats it anyways.
Since that day, Ace had stopped his attempts on Whitebeard's life, serious ones at least, he still tried, and failed horrendously. But it was probably from stubbornness, or something else that Ace needed to prove to himself. Ace had been assigned under your division for now as pops had seen that you had managed to make a strong connection with the mera mera no mi user.
During regular sorting of a new shipment of supplies that the others had gotten, you were helping Ace understand the storage strategy and god, you could tell that guys brain was not having a fun time with it. You cant help but shake your head and pat his arm.
“Alright, just carry all of the crates from the entrance to here, alright?”
“Yeah, thank god, i was trying to listen but-”
“You were staring at the wall Ace”
“I said trying!"
Ace tries to defend himself as his cheeks flush, but he moves to the stairs and starts to haul the crates to where you instructed.
It takes a good few hours, but you crack open an ice cold bottle of rum, courtesy of Jozu and place one next to Ace. He nods in thanks and takes a swig, before grimacing and using his flames to heat the liquid up.
“Weirdo”
“What! I like my alcohol hot!”
“Weirdo…”
Ace huffs, but rolls his eyes. And maybe the alcohol starts to loosen his lips as Ace starts to talk after only a quarter of his rum remains.
“I never knew my mom.”
Ace starts, his gaze distant as he talks.
“She died when I was born”
You didn't dare interrupt him. After a few more minutes of silence, you're about to speak but Ace starts talking again.
“My father.”
Ace spits out, venom in every syllable.
“His blood has made my life so much harder. The ‘great’ pirate king… If he was so great then why did he get caught? Why did he die? Why did he leave? Why did I never get a goddamn normal childhood!”
Tears started to pour down Ace's cheeks, his teeth grit as his brow furrows. He trusts you, why else would he tell you something so personal? Something so private.
“You don't have to give him that title y'know?” You say, “He didn't earn it, you don't even have to say his name. Whitey Bay hated her father, she exclusively calls him ‘sperms donor’ or ‘that jackass’...”
Ace snorts out a laugh, and you reach over and gently wipe the tears trailing down his cheeks with your thumbs.
“You don't owe him forgiveness, you don't owe him a title. Parents have to earn the right to be called parents Ace. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise”
You take a breath and look Ace in the eyes as you keep talking.
“Pops taught us on this crew that family? Real family, that is chosen. People might cling onto family only because blood binds them, but that's not the only form of family” You say, and Ace places his hands on your wrists, holding and entwining your fingers together as he swallows and tries to get himself together.
“...I have two brothers…I uhh, I chose them when I was younger… Got a really cool mom too, her name is Dadan. I think you'd get along with them really well”
Ace says quietly and you smile, and god, Ace gives you a look like he's found the sun once again for the first time since he left home.
“I think that I'd like them too… tell me about them… your real family”
The grin that Ace gives you as soon as hes given the opportunity to talk about his brothers? Its like a dying dwarf star being reignited again.
Life goes on, Ace has started to warm up to the others in the crew. Quiet nights are hard to come by now, Ace's reserved and cautious demeanour from before has practically evaporated. Marco definitely tries to keep himself together but ends up shedding a few tears when Ace instinctively calls him brother for the first time.
And everyone has definitely learned wayyyyy more about Luffy than they ever bargained for because of Ace.
And you hold Ace in the darker moments, when the flame fruit user collapses in your arms, his head rested on your stomach as he sobs, confiding in you about Sabo, more scraps of the trauma of his childhood as he exposes more of his soul to you each day that passes, and each day that you get closer.
On a cold night, Ace's hat rests on the nightstand in your quarters, he'd been coming here more often ever since the Moby Dick had moved into a colder climate.
“Hah! Can't have my favourite person freezing now can I?”
Ace had teased but now he rested in your arms content as he acts like a hot water bottle for you. Your fingers card through those raven locks of messy hair.
Ace was just…allowed to just… be…when he was around you. He could just be broken with no worry of immediately having someone worry over him. He didn't want to be fixed, he wanted to live his life with no regrets. And god, he had no regrets by staying here with you.
“Thank you”
Ace says quietly.
“For loving me…for loving me as I am and not trying to make me forgive…or to fix me”
Your fingers still in Ace’s hair, worry flashing through you as maybe just maybe Izou had bloody spilled about your crush on Ace.
“Look, I-”
Ace struggles slightly, before he shifts and looks up at you, wrapping his arms around your sides.
“I know that I can be a lot, and if I'm getting the wrong idea then don't be afraid to let me down, gently though, but I…I love you, I love you so much.”
“I love you too Ace”
“HELL YEA-”
Ace then quickly catches himself and coughs, looking to the side, he can't help the massive grin that splits across his face.
“I uhh”
Ace coughs and that grin then turns sheepish.
“I mean, uh, that's great! I'm glad you feel the same. God you have no idea how glad I am to hear that”
Ace's face flushes more as you try to cover the fact that you're laughing, it's adorable, you can't help it.
“Hey! I just poured my heart and soul out to you, don't laugh at me!”
“I cant help it, you just sound so corny!” You laugh harder and Ace props himself up on his elbows, eyes wide.
“CORNY?! Oh i'll show you corny!"
And oh god, you think that you have just given Ace a complex to give the most embarassing, corny PDA ever.
That even the seas may not be able to save you from it.
you were way too drunk, you realized it too late as you stumbled into somebody at some random house party. they caught you by the waist before you could fall. your vision was hazy, your eyes were glassy, but even through your bottle-induced haze, you saw those piercing red eyes staring back at you.
“...you’re pretty.” you muttered stupidly, allowing this familiar stranger to help you slump onto the couch. you couldn’t tell if they were drunk too, or if your compliment had gotten to them, but his face had an undeniable blush spread across it.. “..thanks. you’re drunk.” his voice was gruff, yet soothing. you would hear it all day. you wanted to.
“oh really? i couldn’t tell.”
he let out a scoff at that, seemingly annoyed with you. but he didn't move from his position next to you.
“.. he does this a lot too.” there was a pause after you said that, as if the stranger was contemplating on whether or not to ask further. he brushed a hand through his unruly blonde hair, “who’s he?”
“my ex. he acted juuust like you.” you booped his nose as if for emphasis. “he’d act all tough, but he didn’t leave me. well, i guess he did leave, but that's besides the point.”
you didn’t see anyone next to you for a brief moment, making you think you hallucinated the whole thing, before a bottle of water was abruptly shoved in your face. “drink.”
he slid next to you again like it was natural, his hand moved to go around you by instinct, before he retracted it, you grabbed onto his arm. “..please.”
as if on cue he cradled you to his chest, taking the opportunity to press his head against the top of yours. “you feel like him too.” you mumbled, “sweaty hands and everything.”
he didn’t laugh, but you felt his smile against your head.
it was comforting, the best you’d felt in the months following your break up. you felt the drowsiness overcoming you, prompting you to move your head closer to his chest and lay against his heart. it felt like the same heart that served as your lullaby for years.
“..i hope he misses me.” your eyes were closed, that familiar feeling of comfort and space welcoming you, though the last words that echo through your mind and fuel your dreams sound just like katsuki’s.
synopsis. after two weeks of radio silence, katsuki finally confesses
contents. suggestive! angst with a happy ending. pro hero! katsuki bakugou x pro hero! fem! reader. canon compliant. mutual pining. friends to lovers. post-argument. bakugou is bad at feelings. first kisses and confessions. light on smut࿐
katsuki bakugou is angry. he’s holding two plaques made of polished metal and engraved with flowery script, playing nice with the heroes that dare to approach him, and all he wants to do is blow up the entire damn gala.
he wants to shred it all with his bare hands. the shimmering gowns, the flashing cameras, the ceaseless, vapid small talk. he wants to tear it all down and watch it burn. in part, because he hates attending these pointless glaze fests.
but the real reason, the epicenter of his explosive fury, is standing across the room, looking beautiful as always. you.
you haven’t spoken to him in two weeks. fourteen days. three hundred and thirty-six hours of suffocating silence. and here you are, bathed in the soft glow of chandeliers, looking like you don’t have a care in the world. you’re holding a glass of deep red wine, the dark liquid swirling in the bowl of the glass as you listen, rapt, to every word that falls from shoto todoroki’s lips.
todoroki. icy-hot. of all fucking people.
anger is constantly simmering just beneath katsuki’s skin, a thrum he usually channels into his hero work. rage he so often uses to fuel his quirk. but tonight, his anger is personal. it’s a hot, sick feeling in his gut that coils tighter every time he hears your laugh — a sound he used to be able to coax out of you so easily — now echoing across the room because of someone else.
that half-and-half bastard. shoto fucking todoroki.
the plaques in his hand feel heavier than they should. ‘for exceptional valor and strategic brilliance in the neutralization of villains” and “for outstanding contributions to civilian safety” bullshit.
all he did was what he always does: find the bad guys and blow them the hell up. but the cameras keep flashing, and a portly man in a too-tight tux is slapping his back and telling him he’s a credit to the nation. katsuki bares his teeth in what he hopes passes for a smile.
his agent, a harried-looking woman with a clipboard, had drilled it into him: “smile, dynamight. look approachable. you’re a brand.”
a brand. right now, he feels like a malfunctioning appliance about to short-circuit and take out a whole power grid. his eyes keep drifting away from the sponsor, scanning the opulent ballroom. it’s a sea of shimmering gowns and dark suits, of sparkling champagne flutes and forced smiles. but he only sees one thing. you.
you’re standing near one of the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, the city lights a glittering backdrop behind you. you’re not dressed in anything flashy, not like some of the other heroes here trying to outshine each other. your dress is a deep, muted blue, simple in its elegance, but it clings to you in all the right places.
your hair is swept up, exposing the long, graceful line of your neck that he has spent far too many nights thinking about. you look . . . ethereal. and completely, infuriatingly, absorbed in the man standing next to you.
the number two hero, is leaning in slightly, his voice a low murmur that katsuki can’t hear but can imagine. all calm and collected and fucking loquacious. and you’re nodding, your head tilted, a genuine smile playing on your lips as you swirl the red wine in your glass. you take a sip, and your eyes, bright and beautiful, never leave his face.
it’s the two weeks of silence that makes this unbearable. two weeks since the argument. two weeks since you walked out of his penthouse, the sound of the door clicking shut echoing in the sudden quiet.
he’d been an idiot. a complete, selfish bastard. he remembers it with crystal clarity. he’d gotten his ribs busted on a mission, nothing too serious, but enough to warrant a few days of mandatory rest. and you, being you, had descended upon his apartment like a force of nature.
“no, katsuki, you are not getting up. you’re going to lie on that couch and you’re going to let me take care of you.”
“i don’t need a fucking babysitter,” he’d snarled, trying to push himself up, wincing as the pain shot through his side.
“i’m not babysitting you, i’m making sure you don’t pop your stitches and bleed out on your ridiculously expensive couch because you’re too stubborn to admit you’re hurt,” you’d shot back, pressing a firm hand to his chest. “now lie down.”
he’d hated it. hated the feeling of being weak, of being managed. it reminded him too much of his mother, of all the times she’d fussed over him when he was a kid. and in a moment of frustration, laced with a fear he refused to acknowledge, he’d lashed out.
“quit nagging me, you’re not my mom or my damn girlfriend, so just back the fuck off!”
the words had hung in the air, ugly and so fucking sharp. he’d seen the change in your face instantly. the soft concern in your eyes had hardened. you’d straightened up, and your expression became unreadable.
“you’re right,” you’d said, your voice quiet and its cadence devoid of all its usual warmth. “i’m not.”
and just like that, you were gone. you didn’t yell back. you just . . . left. and the silence you left behind was louder than any explosion he could possibly ever create.
he’d told himself he was right. that you were overstepping. but the satisfaction he thought he’d feel never came. instead, there was just a hollow ache in his chest and the phantom scent of your vanilla perfume on his couch cushions.
he hadn’t texted. his pride was sacrosanct, and he couldn’t bring himself to be the first one to break the stalemate. he’d waited for you, checking his phone every five seconds like a pathetic loser. but your name never lit up his screen.
the days after the argument bled into a week, then two. the only communication he had from you was a group text about the gala, one sent to the whole old class 1-a crew. and tonight, seeing you here, looking so beautiful and so far away, it fucking hurt.
“bakugou? earth to bakugou?”
katsuki blinks, dragging his gaze away from you. kirishima is standing in front of him, his trademark sharp-toothed grin looking a little forced. sero is beside him, nursing a drink and looking around the room with a bored expression.
“the fuck do you want, shitty hair?” katsuki grunts, his voice rougher than he intended.
“whoa, easy there, man. just checking on you. you look like you’re about to set the whole place on fire,” kirishima says, holding up his hands placatingly. “which, you know, is kind of your deal, but maybe not tonight.”
sero follows his line of sight, his eyes landing on you and todoroki. he lets out a low whistle. “ahh. i see. that’s the problem.”
“shut the hell up,” katsuki warns, his knuckles white around his plaques. he can feel the heat prickling at his palms, a sizzle that he has to consciously suppress.
“look, man, i don’t know what happened,” kirishima says, lowering his voice. “but you’ve been in a foul mood for weeks. and you haven’t stopped staring at her and todoroki since they started talking. it’s been like, thirty minutes. maybe you should just . . .go talk to her?”
“and say what? ‘hey gorgeous, sorry i’m a colossal asshole but i get territorial when you talk to other guys’?” sero chimes in, earning himself a glare from katsuki. “what? it’s the truth.”
“it’s not like that,” katsuki lies through his teeth. it’s exactly like that. he’s a fucking caveman. he sees you with someone else and all he wants to do is drag you away, mark his territory, prove to everyone — but mostly to himself — that you’re his. except you’re not. and that’s the whole damn problem.
“then what’s it like?” kirishima pushes, his tone gentle. he’s the only one ( excluding you ) who can get away with this, the only one who knows how to navigate katsuki's landmines. “you guys are weird. you’re not together, but you’re always together. you stay at her place more than your own. you have her patrol route memorized. you text her more than you text us. but then you pull shit like this. it’s confusing for everyone, man. especially her.”
katsuki’s jaw ticks. he knows kirishima is right. he knows he’s been sending you mixed signals for years.
( it started wayyy back in kindergarten, when you were the only girl who didn’t annoy the shit out of him. the only one who stood up for deku when katsuki was picking on him he was being a pathetic crybaby, earning you grudging respect from katsuki even as he cussed you out for having a bleeding savior complex.
his mom had loved you, always saying how nice it would be to have a daughter like you, which had simultaneously embarrassed him and made him weirdly proud. you’d stayed close through all the chaos of ua, through internships and wars and the steady climb to becoming pro heroes. )
he’s always had a soft spot for you, a fact he’d rather die than admit out loud.
he likes taking care of you — he likes you taking care of him, even if he frames it as nagging. he likes knowing you’re safe, that you’ve eaten, that you’re drinking water instead of those disgusting energy drinks you love so damn much. he likes the way you leave your socks on his floor and the way you steal his hoodies. he likes all of it. and it terrifies him. it’s too much vulnerability and he doesn’t know how to handle it, so he defaults to what he knows: pushing you away before you can get close enough to see that he’s not worthy of you.
“i’m not talking to her,” katsuki says, rigidly “not tonight.”
“fine,” kirishima sighs, defeated. “but don’t come ranting to me when todoroki makes his move.”
katsuki doesn’t dignify that with a response. he just turns his back on his friends, his eyes finding you again in the crowd. you’ve just accepted your own award, a sleek thing for your humanitarian work, something about setting up a support network for young heroes with trauma. you’d given a short speech, and the applause had been incessant.
now, you’re back with todoroki, and he’s handing you another glass of wine. you touch his arm as you laugh at something he says, and katsuki feels a tiny spark in his palm. he shoves his hands into his pockets, clenching his fists until the urge to blast something subsides.
he seethes as the night begins to wind down. deku and pink cheeks leave together, their heads close together, smiling. raccoon eyes is dragging sparky towards the bar again. he sees you talking to ponytail, pointing towards the exit. he knows you. you’re about to call a cab.
fuck that.
he’s been an idiot. he’s been a coward. he’s let you slip through his fingers because he’s too proud and too scared to admit what he wants. but he’ll be damned if he lets you leave here in some stranger's car when he’s right here. he’s not letting you go that easily.
without so much as thinking, he starts moving. he cuts a direct path through the dwindling crowd, his shoulders set, his expression a thundercloud. he doesn’t care who he has to shove out of his way to get to you.
you’re still talking to momo, your back to him, when he reaches you.
“let’s go.”
his voice cuts through your conversation roughly. you freeze, then turn slowly. your eyes, when they meet his, are wide with surprise, then they narrow with irritation.
“huh?” you ask, your voice laced with disbelief.
he stares at you, jaw set. “i said. let’s go.”
momo is looking between the two of you, one perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised in intrigue. you cross your arms over your chest, defiantly
“and why, exactly, would i go anywhere with you?”
“are you gonna make me beg you or some shit”he shoots back, his patience wearing thin. he sees your mouth open to retort, but he doesn’t give you the chance. he reaches out, his fingers wrapping around your wrist. he doesn’t wait for your permission, just turns and starts pulling you along with him.
“bakugou, what the hell are you doing? let go of me!” you’re squawking, stumbling a bit in your heels as you try to keep up with his long, angry strides.
“shut up and walk,” he growls, not even looking back at you. as he drags you away from the gala and out into the night.
the bickering starts the moment you hit the pavement. a verbal sparring match that’s as second-nature as breathing.
“you’re an asshole, you know that?”
“yeah? well you’re a stubborn pain in my ass.”
“i wouldn’t have to be stubborn if you weren’t such a neanderthal who thinks he can just manhandle people whenever he wants.”
“i wouldn’t have to manhandle you if you’d just listen when i fucking talk to you.”
“you haven’t ‘talked’ to me in two weeks, bakugou!”
“you haven’t talked to me either”
the argument dies on your lips as he leads you to the valet stand. he gives the attendant his ticket with a sharp nod, his hand still firmly on your wrist. the sleek black porsche pulls up a moment later, its engine a low, predatory purr. he opens the passenger door for you, a gesture so out of character it momentarily stuns you into silence.
“get in,” he orders, his voice clipped.
you glare at him, but you do it. you slide into the plush leather seat, grumbling under your breath about bossy, arrogant pro-heroes who think they own the world. he slams the door shut, rounding the hood to get in the driver’s side. the moment he’s behind the wheel, the atmosphere in the car shifts. the music blasts on, some thrash metal band screaming about death and destruction, so loud it makes your teeth ache.
he doesn’t say a word. he just grips the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white, the veins in his forearms standing out like cords. he peels away from the curb, the tires screeching in protest. you press yourself back into the seat, staring at the dashboard, refusing to look at him. the city lights blur past the window, streaks of color in the darkness.
ten minutes pass in suffocating silence. the only sound is the aggressive music and the low hum of the engine. you can’t stand it. it’s worse than the fighting.
“you know,” you start “for someone with such great taste in cars, your music taste is absolute garbage.”
he grunts. but he reaches over, his fingers jabbing at the touchscreen on the console. the screaming metal cuts off abruptly, replaced by the soft strains of an indie band you love.
you shiver, a sudden chill raising goosebumps on your arms. the air conditioning is cranked up to arctic levels. he notices, of course he does. he just nods his head towards the back seat, where his suit jacket is carelessly tossed.
you hesitate for a second, then sigh, reaching back to grab it. you shrug it on, the heavy fabric immediately enveloping you. it smells like him. that woodsy, smoky cologne he wears, mixed his the unique scent. it’s simultaneously comforting and infuriating. he reaches down without a word and turns the ac down a few notches.
but he still doesn’t speak to you.
“can i ask you something, bakugou?” you ask,
the constant use of his last name hits him like a punch to the gut. so it’s like that now? he grits his teeth, his jaw ticking like a time bomb. “you just did, dumbass,” he scoffs.
“don’t be a smartass,” you snap, your voice rising. “why the hell did you make me come with you if you’re not going to talk to me?”
“you’re the one who didn’t say shit to me all night!” he retorts, “i walked in, saw you, and you looked right through me. not even a fucking ‘hi, katsuki’”
“maybe because you didn’t say shit to me all week!” you fire back, turning in your seat to face him. your eyes are blazing, and in the dim glow of the dashboard, he can see how beautiful you are when you’re angry.
“yeah? maybe because you fucking left!” he scoffs, his hand slamming on the steering wheel. the car swerves slightly.
“don’t act like i wanted to!” you shout, your voice cracking with frustration. “i took off because you can’t make up your damn mind! one minute you’re acting like we’re a . . . a thing, and the next you’re pushing me away and making me feel crazy for actually giving a damn about you!”
“what are you talking about?” he growls, his eyes glued to the road.
“oh, don’t play dumb, bakugou!” you exclaim, gesturing wildly. “you stay at my place and make me breakfast in the morning. you’re always showing up on my patrol route to ‘check in’. you’re always sending me texts, being all ‘don’t skip meals like a dumbass’ and ‘drink some fucking water today like a normal person’ and ‘don’t stay up all night watching those shitty rom-coms, you’ll be useless tomorrow’ ! you’re the one who acts like we’re a couple, and then you turn around and make me feel like i’m wrong for caring about you!”
he’s silent. the only sounds in his porsche are your ragged breathing and the soft music playing from the speakers. he just drives, his face a mask of stone. the silence is worse than the yelling. it feels like a dismissal.
“well?” you demand, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. “do you have anything to say?”
“well i’m trying to think,” he grits out, his voice low and strained.
but he hasn’t raised his voice. not once. through the entire tirade, he’s kept it level, controlled. because as pissed off as he is, as much as he wants to rage and scream, he can’t. he can’t scream at you. he can’t stay mad at you. not really. not when you look like this.
your glossy bottom lip is caught between your teeth, your brows are knitted together, your eyes are slanted with a fury that’s breathtakingly beautiful. your voice, high and pitched with emotion, is reverberating off the windows, filling the small space with your presence. he hates it. he loves it.
you look away from him, staring out the window, your shoulders slumping in defeat. and that’s when he breaks. one hand is still on the wheel, but the other moves, finding its way to your thigh. his touch is hesitant at first, then firm against the thin fabric of your dress.
“look,” he starts, “i’m sorry, ‘kay?”
you scoff, not looking at him.
“i fucked up but that doesn’t mean you need to run off with someone else,” he says, his voice strained with jealousy he can no longer hide.
you let out a humorless laugh, finally turning back to him “i didn’t run off with anyone else.”
“you know what i mean,” he insists, his grip on your thigh tightening slightly.
“no, katsuki, i don’t think i do,” you say, “why don’t you spell it out for me?”
“i’m not gonna spell it out for ya,” he grunts, his eyes flicking to you before returning to the road. “it’s bad enough he was hogging you all night.”
“are you jealous, katsuki?” you ask, your voice softening, a hint of realization dawning in your eyes.
“huh?”
“are you jealous, katsuki?” you echo, enunciating each word clearly.
“the hell?” he sputters, his composure finally cracking.
“jealous. like the feeling you get when you’re scared of losing someone to someone else and—”
“i’m not scared of shit!” he snarls, cutting you off.
the car is low on gas, the warning light a small, glowing beacon on the dashboard. he spots a gas station up ahead and swerves into the lot, pulling up to a pump with a screech of tires. he cuts the engine. the music dies, plunging the car into a heavy silence that’s more deafening than the noise had been.
he turns to you then, his face illuminated by the harsh fluorescent lights of the gas station.
“jealousy is for fucking losers who are scared of shit they can’t control,” he says, “that’s not what this is. this is me being pissed off because i had to watch the only person i actually give a damn about laugh at some half-and-half bastard’s shitty jokes. it made me want to put my fist through a goddamn wall.”
he takes a shaky breath, his gaze dropping to his hands on the steering wheel.
“i told you to quit nagging me because this is confusing,” he admits, his voice barely a whisper. “i don’t fucking know where i stand with you. and i’m not used to feeling like this. i never know what to do, and i’m always fucking up and pushing you away. but i’m not jealous. i’m fucking pissed with myself for being a damn coward.”
and with that, he shoves his door open and gets out of the car, leaving you alone with his words and the frantic beating of your own heart.
you watch him through the windshield as he jams the nozzle into the gas tank, his movements sharp and angry. he stares blankly ahead.
he fills the tank. he replaces the nozzle. he gets back in the car. he starts the engine. he turns to look at you, his expression raw and vulnerable.
and you’re done. you’re done with the fighting and the silence. you’re done with the uncertainty. you lean across the center console, the plastic digging into your abdomen, and you cup his face in your hands. his skin is warm, his stubble rough against your palms. his ears and cheeks flush instantly, a deep, burning red that rivals his crimson eyes. a deep red that you can see even in the dim light.
“the hell are you doing?” he manages to stutter, his eyes wide with shock.
you don’t answer. you just close the distance and press your lips to his.
it’s not gentle. it’s all the frustration and longing and unspoken feelings of the last two weeks finally exploding. it’s teeth and tongues and desperate, hungry kisses. one of his hands comes up to tangle in your hair, the other gripping the back of your neck, holding you to him like he’s afraid you’re going to slip through his fingers. you get lost in it, in the taste of him, in the feel of him whimpering against your lips, until a loud, impatient honk from the car behind you shatters the moment.
you pull back, breathless, your lips swollen and tingling. he moans, a low, frustrated sound, and you can’t help but laugh. he looks like he’s about to get out of the car and start a fight, even though he’s the one blocking the pump.
“be patient for fucks sake!” he yells, winding down his window to flip the other driver off.
you’re still laughing as he pulls away from the pump and merges back onto the empty street. the sound of your laughter seems to quench some of his remaining anger, and a small, reluctant smile tugs at his lips.
“we left our conversation unfinished,” he says, his voice softer now. he glances over at you, and his eyes are funny. all soft and warm in a way you've never seen before. “can’t just kiss me out of the blue when we’re not done talking, dumbass”
“unfinished, huh?” you hum, a little flustered under his gaze. you can still feel the lingering sensation of his lips on yours, the ghost of his touch on your skin. “i thought we came to a pretty solid conclusion.”
he scoffs, but there’s no frustration in it. “we came to a conclusion about me being a coward. we still haven’t figured out what this is.” he gestures between the two of you. “i’m not good with labels and shit. and you’ve got so many expectations i probably won't meet. i’m guaranteed to fuck something up ‘cause i don’t know how to be all . . . lovey dovey,” he says the words like they taste bad, “but i know what i want.”
he pulls up to a red light and turns his body fully towards you. the soft glow of the traffic light paints his face in shades of crimson, making his eyes glow like embers.
“i want you to stop looking at icy-hot and other extras like they’ve got something to offer you,” he says, “cause they fucking don’t. i’m all you need and i’m done pretending this isn’t everything to me.”
the man who’s too proud to ask for anything is asking to be your everything.
“everything?” you whisper, your heart hammering against your ribs.
he simply nods.
“define everything,” you tease, a smirk playing on your lips. you expect him to call you a brat, to accuse you of trying to rile him up. but it doesn’t come.
instead, he looks away from the road for a second, his gaze dropping to your hands, which are now tangled together on the center console. the red light bathes him in its unforgiving glow, and you see something shift in his expression. the defensiveness melts away, replaced by honesty that’s far more disarming.
“everything,” he repeats, his voice a low rumble, “is you living in my head rent fucking free.”
your smirk falters.
“it’s me getting pissed off for no goddamn reason when you’re not with me and i don’t know what the hell you’re doing. it’s me staring at my phone after that stupid argument, wanting to text you so bad my thumbs fucking hurt, but not knowing what the hell to say because i’m the asshole who made you to leave.”
he takes a shaky breath, his eyes fixed on the steering wheel now, as if confessing to it is easier than confessing to you.
“it’s me wanting to drag you away from icy-hot the second i saw you with him, not just because i was pissed, but because i’m greedy, okay? i want all that shit you watch in those dumb rom coms. i want an apartment, or a shitty little townhouse, i don’t give a fuck. i want to wake up and know you’re the first thing i’ll see. i want to cook for you because you seem to get off on neglecting yourself and someone’s gotta make sure you actually eat your goddamn three a day. i want to take care of you.”
he finally looks at you, and his eyes are burning with an intensity that steals the air from your lungs.
“that’s what everything is,” he says, his voice dropping to a whisper. “it’s selfish. it’s me wanting all of your time, all of your attention, all of your annoying, stubborn, fucking beautiful self. all to myself. it’s me wanting to be the one who makes you laugh. it’s me wanting to be the only one who gets to see you like this. so yeah. you’re everything to me.”
the light turns verdant. the car behind you honks. but neither of you moves. you’re frozen in this moment. static in this raw confession that has completely dismantled every defense he’s ever built around you. he didn’t just answer your teasing question; he laid his soul bare on the console between you, waiting for you to either take it or leave it.
the world shrinks to the space inside his car. the honking from behind fades into a distant, meaningless buzz. your teasing smirk is long gone, replaced by a slack-jawed awe. you’re not breathing. you’re not sure you even remember how.
katsuki bakugou — the boy who called you a bloody samaritan for standing up for deku. the teenager who scoffed at every romance movie you made him watch. the explosive hero who snarls at cameras and sneers at press conferences — just confessed to wanting a life so domestic, so tender with you. and it sounded just like something straight out of one of those ‘shitty rom coms’ he claims to hate.
a choked sound escapes your throat, something between a gasp and a sob. you’re not crying, not really, but your eyes are stinging. you squeeze his hand, your grip tight enough to make him look at you, really look at you.
“katsuki,” you breathe, and his name is a prayer on your lips. “you. . you really want all that?”
he flinches, just slightly, as if your disbelief physically hurts him. the vulnerability in his eyes hardens into that familiar, defensive glower. “i just laid my damn heart out for you and you’re gonna question me?” he starts to snap, his old reflexes kicking in.
“no,” you shake your head. you lean forward, closing the distance until your forehead is nearly touching his. “no, i’m not questioning you. i’m . . . trying to believe it’s real.”
the anger in his face dissolves instantly. he lets out a shuddering breath, his shoulders slumping. “it’s real,” he says, his voice barely a whisper. “it’s always been real.”
your heart stutters, then restarts at a frantic, pace. all the years of friendship, the bickering, the unspoken tension—it wasn’t in your head. it wasn’t just you wishing for something more. it was real for him, too.
“tsuki, i’ve wanted this forever” you whisper back, your voice trembling. it’s like you’ve just defused a bomb you’ve been carrying around for a decade. the last of the tension drains from his shoulders, and he sags against you, his forehead resting on yours. he closes his eyes, and when he opens them again they’re the softest they’ve ever been and his pupils are blown so impossibly wide.
“me too” he breathes, reverently. “you have no idea.”
he finally starts driving again. you’re so close to your place now. rounding the corner onto your street. when he finally pulls up in front of your buildinh, he cuts the engine but doesn’t let go of your hand. he turns to you, his expression serious again
“i’m gonna say this once” he starts, his voice low. “so you better be listening.”
he leans in closer, “you’re not my mom. you’re not some random girl to me. you’re it. you’ve always been it. i was just too stupid to say it. so if i’m being a dumbass, you tell me. if i’m not taking care of myself, you nag me. if i’m pushing you away, push back harder. don’t you ever let me get away with that shit again. you hear me?”
“i hear you,” you whisper, your heart swelling so much it feels like it might burst.
“good,” he says, and then he’s kissing you again. it’s slower this time, deeper, a kiss that’s not born of frustration or desperation, it’s sealing of the deal.
when he pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours. “now,” he says, a smirk playing on his lips. “are you gonna invite me up, or are we gonna sit here all night? i didn’t fill up my tank to just drive you home and leave.”
a laugh bubbles up from your chest, light and airy. you pull back just enough to look at him, to see the hope mixed with his usual cocky assurance in his eyes.
“i mean. . “ you trail off, reaching up and tracing your fingers along the sharp line of his jaw, “after a speech like that, how could i possibly say no?”
he huffs, contently. he nips playfully at your thumb as it passes his lips. “don’t you fucking start with me,” he warns
you lean in and press a soft, lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth. “i’m starting” you whisper against his skin. “come make it up to me before i change my mind”
that’s all the encouragement he needs. he’s out of the car in a flash, rounding the hood to open your door with an urgency that makes your heart race. he offers you his hand, and you take it, letting him pull you to your feet and into his arms right there on the sidewalk. he kicks the car door shut with his foot, the sound echoing in the quiet night, and then his arms are around you, lifting you slightly off the ground.
you laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck as he buries his face in your hair, inhaling deeply. “god, you smell good,” he murmurs, his voice muffled.
you’re not sure how you make it from the car to your front door. it’s a blur of tangled limbs, laughter, and kisses that are more about staying connected than anything else. he presses you against your door. he’s fumbling for your keys, his hands clumsy with impatience, and you’re not helping, too busy nipping at his jawline.
“give me the damn keys,” he groans
you hand them over, and he manages to get the door open after a few tries. he practically kicks it open, scooping you up again and carrying you over the threshold like it’s your wedding night. he kicks the door shut behind him, plunging the entryway into darkness, save for the soft glow of the city filtering through your windows.
he sets you down gently, but he doesn’t let go. his hands are on your waist, his forehead resting against yours.
“katsuki,” you whisper, your voice trembling as his calloused fingers slip the straps of your dress down your arms.
“shh,” he murmurs, his lips finding yours in the darkness. “no more talking baby”
and for the first time, you think you might actually be okay with that.
Luffy would pout. He lives for affection as much as the next person, so you holding him from behind didn’t allow for him to reciprocate the hug, sure he could use his devil fruit power to stretch his arms to hug you, but that defeats the purpose to him! He wants to see you when you hug him, so he better see your head perched on his shoulder when he looked over at you, or better yet just let him give you a proper hug but when you do you aren’t leaving his arms for hours.
Zoro can be affectionate but on his own terms. He’s not as openly affectionate as Luffy nor as closed off from it like Smoker, if anything he sits in the middle as he would smile upon feeling you pressed yourself against his back, holding onto him tightly as though he’d disappear. He would look over his shoulder at you, seeing you burry your face between his shoulder blades, tightening your hold on his waist that he’ll end up lightheartedly telling you to ease up on the grip. He’ll give your hands a squeeze in reassurance, telling you he was still there, or reminding himself that you were still there clinging to him and wanting his heart at the same time. He wouldn’t only show how your hug affected him, but that didn’t mean he would leave you feeling as though your affection was not appreciated, he just does them a little differently.
Smoker is not keen on physical affection, at least not in public or in an overwhelming abundance. He’s use to simple congratulatory pats on the back, things that don’t exactly linger longer then they should, so to feel you pressed up against his back, he’s trying his hardest to act indifferent to it. He wouldn’t openly reciprocate it like he would in private, though that didn’t mean he was unappreciative of your hug, he relaxes in your hug and let’s himself reach for your hand now and then to squeeze it before letting go when someone walks by. He’s not being a dick, he’s just trying to stay professional.
Buggy craves for attention but is trying to get it from the wrong people. He craves physical affection but the most he ever was an physical beating instead, yet even when he did get the attention and affection he sight after, he tenses up a little and internally torn about what to do now and how to handle being hugged from behind. He wants to gloat but soak in it at the same time, his mind was torn in two different directions, it also depended on who saw and who didn’t then you’ll be getting two different sides of Buggy. However that didn’t change the fact that the man finally got physical affection from someone who cared about him, so he tries to hide his shock with faux annoyance, but will get pissy if you were to ever let him go.
Ace -unlike his brother- lives for hugs from behind because it means you can’t see the flustered look upon his face, not see the splash of red that coated him from his cheeks to the tips of his ears, he’d laugh and hold your hands to his chest and caress the backs of them with his thumbs. He’d even tug you closer to him whenever he could as though he was the one who was seeking for heat, he would even lift one of your hands an kiss them in silent appreciation and thanks towards you, towards the fact that you were still here loving a mess like him.
Can I have Ace x Reader x Law stargazing and/or in the snow please :)
YES YES YES YES
this was really fun to write, i hope you like it!!
—
“Lawwww,” You whined. “Hurry I wanna go see the stars already!”
The man shook his head, clicking his tongue as he focused on zipping up your coat. He conjured a scarf from seemingly nowhere, tucking it into your hood and around your neck. The fabric touched tip of your nose, completely shrouding your mouth from view.
You mumbled something from behind the fabric, the sound muffled behind all the layers. With a single finger Law brought the fabric down towards your chin, allowing you reprieve to speak.
“I look ridiculous!” You huffed.
“Don’t care.” Law replied, releasing the scarf and returning you to your prison of fabric. “I’d rather you look a little silly than catch a cold.”
Reaching up, you used your own finger to push the fabric away from your mouth. “I’m telling Ace you’re being mean.”
Law smirked. “Tell him. He isn’t safe from bundling up, either.”
As if on cue Ace strolled into the room adorned in nothing more than a t-shirt and basketball shorts.
“Where’s your clothes?” Law challenged as soon as he crossed the threshold into your shared sleeping quarters. Ace yelped, not expecting such a harsh tone.
“I’m literally wearing a shirt. What more do you want from me?”
Law pinched the bridge of his nose. “Didn’t I buy you a coat last week? We’ve been planning this for days, you knew about the weather.”
“Just cause I knew doesn’t mean I care.”
You watched as Law threw his head back, staring up at the ceiling in frustration. “This is my life.” He sighed under his breath.
“Hey!” You challenged. “Don’t be rude!”
For the first time Ace took notice of your presence, eyes raking over your form, holding in tears as laughter betrayed him.
“I thought you were a pile of laundry!” The man cackled. “How many layers did he force you in!?”
“I have two coats on!” You yelled, flailing your arms to showcase the lack of mobility.
“You’ll thank me when we get to the mountain.” Law sighed. “It’s freezing up there.”
“Aw, c’mon!” Ace attempted. “It won’t be that bad!”
“Yeah!” You chirped in response. “It won’t be that bad!”
Law, looking down at his watch to check the time, knew he didn’t have much left to spend convincing you that bundling up was in your best interest.
“Fine,” Law relented. “But when you’re sick I don’t wanna hear a word.”
You cheered, employing Ace to help you shed your layers, relishing in the feeling of mobility once again.
—
You shivered as you stared up at the stars, Ace’s teeth audibly chattering while seated beside you. The snow beneath your bottom was freezing, and without your coat water seeped into the fabric of your pants, thoroughly soaking your undergarments and skin.
Ace, despite his warm arms wrapped around your shoulders, did little to ease the severity of the cold. You leaned into him, hoping the contact would help, but a gust of wind quickly proved you to be mistaken.
“It’s freeeeezing…” Ace whispered in your ear, words swaying like the open sea.
You nodded your head, clutching your arms tighter against yourself.
“Look,” Law called out to the both of you. “It’s starting.”
As if on cue specks of stars descended in streaks from the sky, falling before your very eyes. The glistening globes twinkled within the depths of your pupils, breath visible as you exhaled in awe. The cold was long forgotten as you simply admired the scene unfolding, a rare sight.
Law pulled the pair of you and Ace into his side, his warmth a guiding light. You remained there for a while, the exact duration remaining uncertain.
Ace had long since fallen asleep in your lap, cuddled up on your thighs as Law rubbed circles into his hip. All the while the quiet man peppered light kisses upon the top of your head, frowning as you shivered beneath his touch.
He finally gave in, a sigh escaping his lips as his warm breath visibly mingled with the cold surrounding you.
Without a word Law draped his coat around your shoulders, his warmth soothing your shivering soul.
“But you’re gonna be cold—“ You started, Law quick to cut you off.
“Unlike you, I know I can handle this weather. Just enjoy the stars, love. They’ll be gone before you know it.”
You didn’t protest, simply relishing in the presence of the two men who would remain with you until the end of time.
You wouldn’t have it any other way.
—
a little bonus lol:
“Don’t say it.” You huffed, arms crossed over your chest as Law checked your temperature. You knew it was a fever, you could feel the heat creeping up the nape of your neck and seeping into your cheeks.
Sure enough, it was just as the both of you suspected.
Law bit his cheek to suppress the smirk that threatened to make its home upon his face. The man remained wordless, turning to Ace as he checked his temperature, too.
“Y’know I run hot.” Ace said to Law with a wink. “You don’t gotta worry about me.”
Law simply hummed, staring at the thermometer.
“Maybe I don’t have to, but you definitely should. You both have colds, pretty bad ones at that.” Then, under his breath. “If only something could’ve prevented it…”
“I don’t appreciate your sarcasm.” You countered, a cough erupting from your chest. Law cringed, slipping his mask over his nose and spraying disinfectant in the air.
“You’re contaminated, and I can’t afford to get sick again.”
Ace turned to face you, a mischievous look on his face that was quickly mirrored by your own.
“Don’t. Even. Think about it.”
You and Ace crept over towards Law, maniacal laughter rumbling in between fits of coughing. He backed away, pressed against the door to the restroom, turning quickly to unlock it.
Visiting fairs was your favourite activity when stopping at a new island.
Seeing all kinds of crafts, jewellery, bookmarks, trees made of wire, energy crystals and even incense. You would have taken everything if you could, but there was no more room in the cabin you shared with your boyfriend. It wasn't as if Ace carried much with him, it was an open secret that you bought him clothes and anything else he liked. He had made so much space for you that you felt bad for taking up most of it and leaving him with nothing.
But he never complained. He loved to see every little detail that indicated that, after all, you were there, by his side, loving him and sharing what you loved with him.
The little wind bell that hung from the window and rang in the afternoons when he spun you around in his arms? The little bonsai tree that had its place on the table by the window, the one you occasionally let him take care of? The countless notebooks that were yours on his desk but which he filled with compliments and romantic phrases? The incense burner you had next to his bed that smelled only of his favourite scent?
Ace loved the little things that signalled your presence.
Little things that made him feel part of your life.
That's why he let you explore the fair alone that afternoon. He would surely come by later, say he liked something you weren't convinced about, and put it in the cabin. But that would be after devouring ten bowls of ramen as a snack. He would think about dinner when he found you, as always. With no berries left.
You looked at different tea sets, thinking of giving one to Izou as a gift. It would soon be his birthday, and the commander loved to drink tea in the afternoons. You were fascinated by the delicacy with which the teapots were made. The attention to detail in the cups fascinated you too. You smiled to yourself, determined to buy one, when suddenly there was a loud noise at the end of the street.
You carefully placed the teapot on the table and stood on tiptoe to get a better look.
An elderly man was shouting left and right, asking neighbours, merchants, tourists, anyone, to please catch the boy who didn't pay.
"It's him! That boy in the orange hat! Catch him!"
You opened your eyes in surprise when Ace came running towards you, noodles hanging from his mouth, his cheeks puffed out and flushed, you didn't know if it was from the heat or embarrassment, as he held his hat so it wouldn't fly away.
"Run! Run!" he said hurriedly.
"Ace! Didn't you pay?" you asked, grabbing his arm.
His gaze attempted to reflect a non-existent innocence when he stopped dead in his tracks, seeking your mercy, doing his best to look like a puppy that had just been beaten.
"A pirate is supposed to steal, sweetheart."
"Not from the elders," you scolded him, pulling his arm.
You dragged him to the small ramen restaurant. It was obvious that it had been open for several years because of how dilapidated it was. The old wooden boards were barely holding themselves up, and the chairs looked like they had been repaired more than once. It was a humble place, but it was full of people, indicating its good reputation. You approached the elderly man, who smiled gratefully, walking slowly, hunched over, trying to move his cane.
"Miss, thank you very much. I've been in this business for years, and it's rare that someone catches the bastards who leave without paying," murmured the man, looking at you.
His wrinkled hands trembled as he straightened his cane. One of his hands was behind his back as he scrutinised Ace with his gaze.
"How much is it?" You let go of Ace's wrist.
Opening your purse, you took out a large amount of berries. You didn't think twice about handing them to the man. The amount you gave him may have been more than he asked for, but it didn't matter when it was your boyfriend who had caused so many problems. He had even broken the door in his attempt to escape. The burn was not normal. It had his silhouette holding his hat.
"I can't accept it! It's more than you should pay for fifteen bowls!" the old man refused, waving the hand he had previously hidden, "besides, miss, you shouldn't have to pay."
The man looked at Ace, hitting his ankle with his cane.
"Are you man enough to steal from a senile man but not man enough to prevent a lady from paying for you?"
Ace muttered under his breath when the old man hit him, taking a moment to process his words. You felt him tense up and saw him open his mouth to respond. You knew how rude he could be depending on the person, so you hurried to speak.
"I am..."
"Young men these days don't know how to court a woman. But a girl like her wouldn't be with you, let me tell you... She probably came to pay your debt because she felt sorry for the poor old man." The man pressed. "I should call the marine to capture you."
The marine wasn't an option. With Ace wearing a black shirt and completely covering his back tattoo, no one in this remote village recognised the commander of Whitebeard's second division. You rubbed your forehead. It was supposed to be a quiet day.
"Excuse me, I am..." You spoke again, only to be interrupted once more.
"In my day, men invited women to dinner. What is this about a woman paying a man's bill?"
"Sir, I am..."
Ace stood in front of you, hands on his hips, looking down at the old man. His brow was furrowed, each word the man uttered hitting him harder. For once he forgot his wallet on the ship! And to claim that you would never be the girlfriend or wife of someone like him? Nonsense. He didn't stutter and embarrass himself the day he confessed his feelings to you for someone who didn't know you to say that.
"Damn old man... She's my wife!"
A blush quickly spread across your face. You wondered what nonsense he was talking about, whether he had made a mistake and didn't realise what he had said, or whether he had said it on purpose. You could do nothing but watch him argue with the man. One claiming it was a lie and the other shouting that it was true.
"Such a kind and polite woman wouldn't be the wife of a thief!"
"She is. Deal with it, old man."
You ended up paying for the fifteen bowls of ramen and the broken door to the man's wife, who laughed and congratulated you on your beautiful marriage.
You didn't have the heart to deny it, and after grabbing Ace by the collar and bowing in apology, you both left the premises.
The sun was setting, dyeing the sky orange hues. A reminder that the Moby Dick would soon set sail, leaving behind the fair that was in full swing. The merchants lit the paper lanterns, eliciting excited squeals from the children who wanted to admire their various shapes and colours. Your gaze was fixed on them, enchanted by the ones that looked like lotus flowers.
The crowd was growing. The narrow streets were no longer wide enough to walk through. They were so congested that a woman bumped into your shoulder. She curtsied apologetically, holding something in her hands so that it would not fall due to her clumsiness.
And then you remembered.
You had not bought anything for Izou's birthday.
Ace walked beside you, intertwining his fingers with yours. His touch was warm, reopening your doubts as to whether it was his body heat or his devil fruit. He caressed you absent-mindedly with his thumb, a natural movement, laughing as he watched the children playing in the distance.
In his other hand he carried a strawberry ice cream cone, licking it from time to time. You didn't have many berries left after paying his bill at the restaurant and buying him an ice cream. Going out with him was worse than going out with a child.
"What do you think Thatch will cook?" he murmured thoughtfully, looking at the lanterns now.
He pulled your hand, drawing you with him to admire a fish-shaped one, and then returned to his normal path.
"Are you still hungry?" you asked, impressed.
"Nope. But you didn't eat anything. Anyway, I'll eat later too."
You shook your head and approached a stand selling tea sets. Ace was still holding your hand and sucking on his ice cream, but this time his cheek was resting on your shoulder as he looked at the tea sets.
"I like the red teapot."
"You don't drink tea."
"But you do. I'll drink with you."
"It's for Izou. I think he'll like the green one better," you said, holding up the green teapot.
"It'll be a birthday present from both of us," he said smirking.
"Buy one yourself!"
"I forgot my wallet on the ship." He shrugged, standing up straight. "You know, it was almost a perfect steal. It brought back memories."
His melancholic tone blended with the sparkle in his eyes, longing for a fun he hadn't felt in a long time. His freckles seemed to glow against his tanned skin, illuminated by the light from those paper lanterns. And as always when you had him in front of you, your breath played tricks on you, catching in your throat when the gentle breeze ruffled the strands of his dark hair. Hair that you had combed so lovingly and carefully that morning.
When he turned to look at you with one of his sweet smiles, you knew that the sensitivity of his soul would manifest itself once again. Only with you, as it always did. Cause of your heart's behaviour, of its sudden acceleration.
"When I was a kid, I used to eat and leave without paying with Luffy and Sabo. Most of the time it worked out fine. Other times we had to fight to get back to our tree house in peace."
You smiled at him amusedly, silently grateful that he felt comfortable enough with you to talk about his past. Memories that no one else could access.
You selected two boxes, lifting them with great care. Both contained two tea sets. One was green, and the other was red. Ace noticed, waiting for you to finish paying before putting his tattooed arm around your shoulders, kissing your head with his heart in turmoil.
"Do you think Sabo would be disappointed because I'm a pirate who doesn't steal? As kids, we didn't discriminate and stole from everyone equally," he said without losing his smile.
"I don't think so. You don't steal from women and elderly people. That's fine."
"The next one will work out."
You raised an eyebrow at him.
"And if it doesn’t, I can always count on my wife."
"I don’t remember accepting a marriage proposal."
Ace looked at you, taking the ice cream out of his mouth.
"I bet you a thousand berries that by the end of the year I'll put a ring on your finger."
You admired him with raised eyebrows, pressing your lips together in an attempt to hide your nervousness, that warmth that was taking hold of you. Because deep down, you believed every word he said.
It was Ace. No matter how foolish his bet was, he never backed down. He never lied. He would never gamble with what he wanted most.
"Ten thousand berries that I won't accept," you lied.
"Twenty thousand that you'll accept because you love me and can't live without me."
"Thirty thousand that you'll end up begging me to marry you for years."
Ace smiled at your words. He smiled so brightly that you could feel your heart beating loudly in your chest. Louder than ever. You loved him deeply, and he loved you deeply. It was evident in everything the two of you did and said.
"You bet, sweetheart," he said, bringing the ice cream to his mouth. He took a lick. "But it doesn’t matter if I win or lose any of the bets, when we leave the pirate life behind… We’ll get married. I swear."
I am a firm believer that when Ace has a s/o he won’t spare another person a moment of his time, and in the funniest way too.
In my missing Ace era
Having someone as attractive as Ace on your arm was bound to have its challenges. From freckles that mimicked the constellations glittering the night sky to muscles chiseled by the gods themselves, there’s a certain level of security required to loving Ace.
You have to know the man would never entertain another soul once entering a relationship with you. Fiercely loyal, unwavering in his adoration. His eyes search for in every corner of the world, whether you’re alongside him or not. His heart beats to the syllables of your name and swells ten times its size when you merely utter a word.
Bars were a regular occurrence for the Whitebeard pirates. When they weren’t out conquering the sea, they were engaged in parties—drinks and food and dance until the crack of dawn.
A particularly attractive woman sauntered towards Ace, clearly drunk.
“Hey, handsome, whatcha say we get out of here?”
Ace, physically unable to entertain the thought, replied in a nearly robotic voice. “My partner kills people.”
You coughed up your drink, turning towards Ace with an incredulous expression, his face remaining stoic; the man was serious as a heart attack.
The woman was taken aback. She gazed at Ace with quizzical eyes. Your man, clearly noticing she hadn’t taken the hint, turned in his chair to face you.
“Hi, hun. Gotta borrow you real quick.” He said, smiling a bright smile. But by the time he’d turned around to face the woman once more, this time with you wrapped in his arms, his expression went dark.
“I wouldn’t want to unleash the deadly force of my one true love.” Ace threatened. He held you out as though you were a kitten between his palms, air jailed.
You nodded your head in greeting, tilting your drink in the woman’s direction, “I’ve been known to kill on occasion.”
She scurried away, leaving you there In Ace’s lap. You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck and feathering his face in kisses.
“You’re such a dork.” You teased. He accepted it gratefully, returning your kisses with a flurry of his own.
“Only for you.”
And my, it’s far from the first time something like that had occurred.
“Hey there,” Another woman flirtatiously approached. “Aren’t you a sight.”
She traced a manicured nail along his bicep, planting her palm against his broad chest.
“Unhand me woman, I’m married!” Ace screeched, swiping her hand away as though it burned, flashing a toy ring you’d fake proposed to him with; having won it at a fair on an island a few months back.
But Ace took your faux proposal seriously, cherishing the ring that was a size too small and glittered red in the sunlight. The only time you’d ever seen him take it off was during a fight, worried he’d somehow burn it to ashes. His shorts had a designated compartment to carry it, and once business was handled he’d frantically fumble to find it again.
The woman took the hint, thankfully, and Ace fiddled with the ring, staring at it with a small smile. The sight had reminded him of you, of the love he wore as a badge of honor.
Deciding he’d had enough for the night, Ace took his (unpaid) beverage to go, running back to the ship so he could tell you all about the ring and how it’d saved him.
But your favorite occurrence of Ace curving women was one the entire crew told stories of to this day, your boyfriend’s face flushing red every time someone dared bring it up.
Ace was drunk.
Actually, that’s an understatement, Ace was wrecked. Speech slurring and body rocking back and forth. Marco and Thatch had thought it would be the best decision for Ace to turn in for the night, the imminent hangover that would eventually ensue sure to be a whirlwind.
You agreed, letting Ace know you were gonna grab some food to go then you’d head out—the man was always starving after a night at the bar.
Ace stood in the center of the dance floor, lazily swaying to the music as his mind conjured thoughts of you. He’s an affectionate drunk, all cuddles and sloppy kisses. Marco once scoured an entire island in search of you because an intoxicated Ace was throwing a tantrum regarding your absence, body flickering in and out of flame.
Now, as he dreamt up cuddling with you beneath a mountain of sheets—takeout shared between you—he couldn’t have been happier.
That is, until someone had to go and ruin his fun.
A woman scarcely dressed swayed alongside Ace, mimicking his lazy dance moves and adding her own exaggeration. The man didn’t notice at first, far too caught up in his thoughts of you. So she shimmied closer, body a mere few feet away from Ace.
This, he noticed. Not thinking much of it, Ace scooted away. But she followed, closing the distance even more than before. Again, Ace tried to keep space between them.
But upon her third attempt, Ace panicked, not wanting to be around anyone but you for a moment longer.
Thus, the interaction he can never seem to live down:
In a high-pitched voice, Ace squealed for the entire bar to behold.
“Woman, you’re way too close, fire fist!”
A surge of fire erupted in his hand. He threw the flame down in the small space between their shoes, a plume of fire separating them. Ace was satisfied, a smile on his lips and hands triumphant upon his hips.
The entire bar erupted in boisterous laughter. Meanwhile, takeout in hand, you fought back tears of amusement.
You watched your boyfriend frantically search around, eyes finally locking onto you and scrambling to your side. His arms wrapped protectively around your waist, practically whimpering as he whined for the two of you to leave.
You hummed, shifting the food into one hand and fluffing his hair.
“You alright?”
He huffed like a child, pushing himself further into your side. “She attempted my life.”
You laughed then, a full belly sound that ached your ribs and burned your lungs. Air felt as though it were in short supply, struggling to grasp what wisps you could.
“It’s not funny!” Ace defended, still violently intoxicated, words slurred like a ship on the sea. “I was defending our love!”
That made you stop, looking down at your lover and sighing.
How you loved that man. A burning pillar of everything you could’ve asked for and more. Love was simple with him, honest and passionate. He loved fiercely and was unapologetic in doing so. There’s never been a moment where you’ve questioned Ace’s feelings for you. He wore them proudly, his heart that called your name and cursed the heavens when you were away.
You kissed the top of his head, Ace visibly softening beneath the gesture. He rose then, cupping your cheeks and pressing a burning kiss upon your lips. The scent of alcohol and the flaming sea filled your senses, the two of you mingling, meshing into a single being of desire.
“Let’s go home.” You spoke softly, breaking away from the kiss.
Ace nodded in agreement. “Only if I get cuddles.”
The two of you departed from the bar hand in hand, the night sky and summer breeze guiding you back to the ship.
You're my favorite OP fanfic writer!! I really like your witting style and how you write the characters. If you're still taking requests can you please write Ace for the cupid's arrow prompt?
DESCRIPTION: Cupid's Arrow- Could it be love at first sight?
WARNINGS: none
CHARACTERS: Ace
WORDS: 1,427
A/N: Hi there! Thank you so much for your kind words and for this request. I'm sorry it took so long but I hope it was worth the wait and that you enjoy! ❤️
DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST | KO-FI | VALENTINES EVENT MASTERLIST
————————
Ace knew he was considered a ‘notorious flirt’ by a lot of people, especially those on the crew. Personally he would consider himself charming, friendly, and yes affectionate. He just liked to make the most of his life and enjoy himself, he wanted to have the most positive experiences as possible while he was still on this earth. Did that really make him a flirt? Ace didn’t think so but when the topic came up again, Marco and Thatch laughed at the second-division commander’s heavy pout. “Oh c’mon Ace you see how deeply those civilians stare at you with lovesick grins. You have them swooning as soon as you smile at them.”
“We know it’s not intentional and that it’s just how you are, Ace.” Thatch added onto Marco’s statement with a laugh and firm but friendly clap on his back. “We’re just jealous you have a natural way with people. You don’t even have to try to get a reaction out of them or draw them your way.”
“Exactly, it’s jealousy-yoi.” Marco nodded, relaxing to see Ace being to come out of his annoyed mood. “Although just once it would be nice to see you on the other side of things for a change.”
“Ha! Could you imagine Ace losing his cool over someone?” Izou asked with a laugh as the others joined in on the conversation. It was so impossible to them that the concept alone made them laugh.
A handful of months later the conversation that night had been practically forgotten. With adventures and islands and ensure Whitebeard’s territories were kept maintained keeping priority in everyone’s minds it was to be expected no one would give further consideration to what they had already and ultimately deemed amusing but never going to happen. It didn’t re-enter anyone in the crew’s mind’s until one night on a new island, recently brought into Whitebeard’s territory.
The biggest town of the island had been the pre-determined meet-up spot for the crew after some had been sent out on individual missions by Pops to scout out the other towns and villages in search of possible vulnerabilities that could be exploited if any other pirates came sniffing around to attack. All those sent out also took their time to get to know the area and keep note of any and all interesting landmarks to inform the others of. Since this was now Whitebeard’s territory, the crew would be visiting regularly so the sooner and more they knew about the island the better.
On Ace’s scouting mission he didn’t find anything spectacular that stood out physically in the island or its villages. It just seemed like the same old, same old. The people he met were nice and respected Whitebeard and to be honest that was the most important thing to Ace. Well that and the food. The people of the villages he introduced himself to all but insisted that Ace eat and gather his strength again before journeying back and he couldn’t exactly say no, especially when it all smelt so good. With a belly full, and mood more than content, Ace was the last to make it to the meet-up town but it didn’t take a genius to know where his crew was, all he had to do was follow the sound of music and laughter.
“Ace!” “About time!” “What happened? You fall asleep in the middle of the woods?” Ace laughed at the expected calls and teasing of his crew and waved them all off, taking their jokes in his stride with ease. Taking a seat to rest himself after the long stretch of walking he’d done, he smiled in gratitude when Marco sat beside him and set a large mug of ale in front of him. Looking around he saw the crew mixing with the civilians with ease like they were already lifelong friends. He looked around with a fond and happy smile, foot tapping along to the music of the familiar, fast paced song being played by the locals and he recognised it as one of Pops’ favourites.
“By the way, we got a few new additions to the crew.” Marco told him, loud enough for Ace to hear but not so loud it would distract the others from their own conversations or the singing and dancing. “A few will be in your division-yoi.”
“Oh yeah?” Ace asked curiously after a plentiful drink. It was pretty common for Pops to gladly take new people onto the crew but to already set some of them among the higher divisions was a surprise. He cast another look around to see if any stood out. “Anyone interesting?”
Before he got an answer, a series of whistles and newly invigorated cheers sounded out as the music ramped up in speed. Marco and Ace looked over and after taking in the sight, Ace almost choked on the mouthful of ale he’d just taken a sip of. Standing on top of the bar was Thatch, dancing and grinning but beside him, Ace’s eyes widened and his jaw slowly parted as he saw you for the first time and knew he had to commit this to memory. Your smile, the way you kept up with the music so effortlessly while on top of the bar with Thatch, Ace just couldn’t take his eyes off of you. It was entirely possible that the lighting that hung overhead was the cause but Ace would claim you practically glowed.
“I can’t believe it…” Izou all but snorted as he looked from Ace’s expression to you and grinned, nudging some of the others to take notice. You were completely unaware of the spell you’d placed over the second-division commander but it was there all over his face. For once Ace was on the receiving end of being the lovesick half of the scenario.
When the song ended you and Thatch decided to take a well earned break and grab a drink. Lightly Thatch nudged you along to weave between tables and people to get to wherever it was Thatch wanted you to go and it seemed to be one table in particular, your gaze zeroing in on one face you hadn’t been introduced to yet. Thatch grinned at Ace as he took a seat and you took the other. “I thought I heard you arrive.”
“Hm? Oh yeah, just now.” Ace blinked sharply, tearing his gaze away from you, now realising it would be rude to stare when you were right in front of him. Clearing his throat he sat back in his seat and tried to act like he normally did, unable to work out why he was suddenly so nervous around you. He offered you his best smile and held out his hand, deciding introductions would be best.
“Hi, I’m nice. Meet to Ace you.” He began only to freeze as he realised his mistakes and Thatch, Marco, and Izou burst out laughing. Your laugh joined their’s and Ace couldn’t bring himself to feel too embarrassed, at least not right now. Not when even your laugh was something he wanted to hear more of. You grinned and held out your hand to place it in Ace’s and offer it a friendly shake while telling him your name. Sadly you didn’t get to sit with him long because someone called for you.
You offered Ace an apologetic smile and stood, gently pulling out of his hold and went to see to your friend. As you moved away Ace couldn’t help but stare after you and once you were out of sight and earshot, he let out a groan and buried his face in his hands while the others laughed at his plight. “What the hell happened to me?” He groaned out, unable to make sense of it all. Sitting back he rubbed his neck and let out a long sigh. “At least we’re leaving tomorrow. I can just drink and forget that ever happened.”
“That’s going to be tough, Ace.” Thatch laughed with a shake of his head. “They’re coming with us…”
“What?!” Ace demand with wide eyes, hoping that this could have been one of Thatch’s pranks.
“Yep.” Marco laughed already looking forward to all that was going to happen now that you were joining the crew. “Oh and they’re in your division-yoi.” Ace paled and slowly looked over to see you talking to your friend. As if feeling his stare you looked over and smiled brightly and Ace’s heart nearly faltered then and there. Yeah, he was screwed but in the best way possible.
I wanna piggyback in the idea of Enjin being a wingman. Imagine that he catches reader and zanka cuddling and having a nap together what would he do?
“𝐧𝐚𝐩 𝐛𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬”
a/n: everyone needs an enjin in their life
it’s supposed to be a quick break.
that’s what you tell yourself when you sit down on one of the old couches shoved into the corner of base, exhaustion heavy in your bones after a job out. zanka drops down beside you, close but not touching, like he’s still pretending he doesn’t crave physical affection the way a plant craves sunlight.
five minutes pass.
then ten.
HQ is quiet. too quiet.
your head tips sideways without you realizing it, knocking lightly against his shoulder. you mumble a half-asleep apology, already pulling back–
zanka panics.
no, genuinely panics.
“wait–!” he blurts, hands hovering uselessly before finally, carefully, resting one arm around you like he’s defusing a bomb. his movements are stiff, awkward, but there’s something painfully gentle about the way he tucks you in, adjusts so you’re more comfortable.
you sigh. melt. gone.
zanka stares straight ahead, eyes wide, heart beating so loud he’s convinced the walls can hear it.
“… okay,” he whispers to himself. “okay. this is fine. this is normal. people do this.”
five minutes later, he’s out, too.
head tipped toward yours. arms secure. breathing slow.
it’s peaceful.
which is exactly why enjin ruins it.
he rounds the corner, ready to grab something – then stops dead.
his eyes land on the couch.
on you, curled up against zanka’s chest.
on zanka, asleep, face relaxed in a way enjin has literally never seen before.
enjin gasps.
like, full hand-over-mouth, silent scream gasp.
he crouches immediately, moving with the stealth of a man who absolutely does not respect boundaries. pulls out his phone. takes a picture.
then another.
then zooms in.
“oh this is GOLD,” he whispers, voice shaking with joy.
he circles the couch, inspecting from every angle like it’s an art exhibit. nodding. impressed. emotional.
“look at him,” enjin mutters. “arms around her. protective posture. my boy is SO DOWN BAD.”
zanka shifts slightly in his sleep, tightening his hold on you.
enjin freezes.
waits.
nothing.
he grins wider.
then, because he is a menace, he clears his throat.
loudly.
“AHEM!”
zanka jolts awake like he’s been shot.
“WHAT–” he freezes the second he realizes where he is. who he’s holding. his face goes red so fast it should be illegal. “I– THIS ISN’T–”
you stir, blinking sleepily, completely unaware of the crime scene unfolding. “… wha?”
enjin claps.
slow. deliberate. silent at first.
zanka. loses. his mind.
“WHY ARE YA LIKE THIS,” he snaps, mortified, trying to sit up without dropping you, which only makes it worse because he ends up pulling you closer by accident.
enjin leans down to your eye level, whisper-shouting with the intensity of a proud sports dad. “GOOD FORM. EXCELLENT CUDDLING TECHNIQUE.”
“GET OUT,” zanka growls.
enjin straightens, hands up in surrender, but he’s still smiling.
“i didn’t see anything,” he lies. “except everything. twice. from multiple angles.”
you finally register what’s happening and laugh, face warm as you shift closer to zanka instead of away. his brain short-circuits.
“… ya don’t mind?” he asks quietly.
“not really,” you mumble. “kinda comfy.”
enjin presses a fist to his mouth like he’s watching a proposal.
“i’m so proud,” he whispers, tearing up just a little. “nap buddies. the dream.”
zanka glares daggers at him.
“… i hate you.”
enjin grins. “no. you don’t.”
then he leaves, far too satisfied, already planning how to bring this up later in front of everyone.
zanka sighs, resigns himself to his fate, and tightens his hold just a bit.
SHY ! Rudo means , he is overly red every time you plant soft kisses against his face .
SHY ! Zanka means , he gets surprised and flustered whenever you leave sweet remarks like that he is cool or a master in his field .
SHY ! Enjin means , there is no shy enjin — but a totally in love one, who does every thing you demand of him.
SHY ! Riyo means , her being super flustered and hiding every time you figure out her feelings and thoughts .
SHY ! Follo means , he is hiding his red ears whenever you smile at him and blaming the cold air .
SHY ! Amo means , she struggles to express herself yet you are patient as ever, making her fall deeper .
SHY ! Eishia means , getting caught by you while she was daydreaming or admiring you .
SHY ! August means , again there is no shy august but an awed one for every outfit you wear because you look lovely every single time.
SHY ! Semiu means , her being flustered in secret first, yet pulling a move to get the same reaction from you .
SHY ! Gris means , he laughs it off when you mention you are aware that he is head over heels ( inwardly dying ) .
SHY ! Fu means , his head feels empty and he goes mute every time you approach him, considering that you are the person he admires the most .
SHY ! Zodyl means , him going insanely silent whenever your hands brush against each other or when you subconsciously grasp on to his clothes .
SHY ! Momoa means , smiling serenely through the shyness and complimenting you in her own ways .
SHY ! Jabber means , third time’s the charm there is not an ounce of shyness or shame in him — but he squeals whenever you are in action because you are super cool .
𝜗𝜚˚⋆ notes: requested by anon | the writers block hit me full on I am so sorry :(( but I'm slowly getting back into the groove!!
Please do comment / reblog if you enjoyed it!! Requests are open too ♥️
‧₊˚✧[ Zanka ]✧˚₊‧
✧ Zanka likes to cuddle in the spooning position with him being the big spoon.
✧ It feels very grounding to him after a long day, getting to hold onto you and to just deflate without explanations being necessary.
✧ He would never say it out loud, but he is very protective over you and cuddling like this scratches that itch perfectly.
✧ If you have cold feet or hands he will most definitely complain the moment your "ice blocks" as he lovingly calls them touch his body in any way.
✧ If you turn around in his arms to rest your face against his chest, your head tucked neatly beneath his chin, his heart melts - it makes him feel very loved.
✧ If he had a bad day he will hold you a little tighter, burying his face in your hair or the back of your neck, letting your presence comfort him.
✧ Zanka wraps his arm around your stomach to keep you snuggled against him and it's soothing to him to feel you breathe against his body.
✧ Most times he does fall asleep like that and he will snore softly into your ear but that's very endearing, to know that he lets his guard down around you like this.
‧₊˚✧[ Enjin ]✧˚₊‧
✧ Enjin isn't really too big on cuddling all the time but when he does feel like it, he likes to lay on his back with you draped on top of him somehow.
✧ Like this it's not too much and it's mostly just your head and an arm resting on him. If you rest your head on his chest, he will play with your hair while yapping.
✧ While he's not into clingy stuff, he will always hold onto you tightly when you two are falling asleep like that.
✧ If only you fall asleep on his chest, it's actually very calming to him - he's never felt more at peace than in that moment.
✧ Occasionally if you drape half your body over him, he'll complain about being too warm or you being too heavy, but if you move even a finger then, he will pull you back and ask where you think you were going.
✧ If he had a hard day, he'll use you as a weighted blanket because it grounds him. He will also hold onto you as if you're the only thing left to hold him down (now is the chance to tease him about being clingy).
✧ He loves to yap while cuddling, gossiping with you about the latest things either of you overheard in the hallways is his highlight actually.
✧ If he falls asleep before you, he will hold onto you all night - but be warned that he's a restless sleeper and if he turns to the side, you'll get dragged to the side as well.
‧₊˚✧[ Tamsy ]✧˚₊‧
✧ Tamsy likes to be the big spoon because he says it's "more comfy that way" but he just likes holding you close to him, makes him feel like hes in control.
✧ He's always relaxed when he gets to cuddle you, being able to let his guard down for once, something he rarely allows around others.
✧ Sometimes he forgets what he was talking about mid sentence because he realizes just how close you are and you think that's kinda cute.
✧ He absolutely likes touching you, but in small ways that leave goosebumps on your skin wherever his fingers trace along - your ribs, your arms or even the back of your neck. It's as if hes trying to memorize every inch of you.
✧ If you pull away because it tickles, you can catch a glimpse of his grin when you look at him over your shoulder because his arm is still tightly secured around you.
✧ He teases you then with things like "What? Getting shy now?" before pulling you back against him for some more cuddles.
✧ If he's feeling sleepy, he's getting soft around you, mumbling things like "Don't move, you're warm" and nuzzles into you.
✧ Even if he's feeling sleepy, he never falls asleep before you, enjoying to feel you grow heavy in his arms as slumber takes you. It might be a little creepy, but watching you sleep puts him at ease.
✧ Despite it all, he makes you feel like the safest place in the entire world is in his arms.
‧₊˚✧[ Gris ]✧˚₊‧
✧ Gris gives amazing hugs but he's a little more reserved when it comes to full on cuddles.
✧ He's acting like it's no big deal when you're in his arms for the first time, but you can tell that he's slightly nervous and doesn't quite know where he can or should rest his hands.
✧ The moment he relaxes, he prefers to have you laying on top of him. Just your head on his chest, one arm wrapped around his torso or completely on top of him like a weighted blanket - whatever you prefer he's all up for it.
✧ One arm is secured around your waist at all times, as if you'd slip away the moment he lets go. The other hand travels quite a lot, either wrapped around you as well or caressing your back and sometimes even playing with your hair.
✧ He's quite the silent cuddler, not really talking much and instead enjoying the intimate moment with you.
✧ If you happen to fall asleep on top of him he's oddly still, almost holding his breath and not moving a single muscle as to not mess this up.
✧ Please allow him some skin to skin contact - he's an absolute sucker for it. Just let his hand rest on your lower back beneath your shirt and hes on cloud nine.
✧ If you pull away to get up, he looks a little lost for a moment, having to come back to reality because cuddling with you feels like time suddenly stopped and all that exists to him are the two of you.
‧₊˚✧[ Zodyl ]✧˚₊‧
✧ Zodyl claims that he doesn't like to cuddle, but if you just drop yourself into his lap, he will wrap an arm around you almost instantly.
✧ He doesn't want you pressed up to him head to toe, but having you like this is quite nice. It gives him a little more space while still being close.
✧ He's not clingy but he is possessive in his own subtle ways. His arm wrapped tightly around your waist, one hand holding your waist with his thumb tracing small circles - it just screams "You're mine".
✧ When he's feeling tired, his guard slips slightly. He'll hold you tighter, chin resting on your shoulder or on top of your head with his eyes half shut and his voice is all soft with a little rasp to it.
✧ If you fall asleep on him, he acts like you're annoying or an inconvenience, his tongue clicking when you slump on him but he makes sure that your head rests against his chest and won't move a muscle until your eyes open again.
✧ You can tell that this actually relaxes him since his breathing syncs with yours - something he doesn't even notice.
✧ In the end, he does like the weight of you against him, quiet and steady. It makes him feel like for once things aren't in constant movement.
✧ Don't even try to get up, he'll find a way to talk you into staying while making it seem as if it was your idea to stay on his lap - and if that doesn't work, he'll command it to you... That's what you get from sitting in your Boss' lap.
Synopsis: telling gachiakuta men before a mission that if they come back with minimal injuries, they get special treatment from you. When they come back, you check their body and give them the clear.
CW: fluff, gn!reader
Enjin
The first time hearing the offer was right after the last mission, where he got punched square in the face, and you had to hold an ice pack on his face for 2 days. Yes, YOU had to do it because he refused to do it himself. So, to prevent this from happening later(and your arm from being sore), you sighed, "If you manage to avoid this kinda thing next time, I'll give you my full attention the whole day. That's what you wanted, right?"
...
Walking through the door with a wide smirk on his face, hand on his hip. You turned your head slightly to look at him from the chair you were currently sitting in.
You set down what you were cleaning, get up, and walk toward him. "Looks like you had fun, only a little blood." He smirks at your words, "You should see the other guy." He tries to put his hand on your waist, but before he can, you grab his wrist and pull it toward your face. Massaging his finger, he winced, you notice some bruising on his knuckles, but there is minimal swelling. It seems it was only a few punches. Pulling him toward a chair. "Si-" before you could even get it out, he's already seated and staring up at you, still smiling. Stepping closer, you brush the little bit of dust off his shoulders and grab both sides of his face and kiss him, feeling him finally be able to put his hands on your waist and wrap his arms around your waist and pulling you down toward him.
"Gotta work hard to maintain everything you have to offer me, huh?"
He was practically glowing the whole day, and if it means seeing him happy and not having to worry about him? You should say that more often.
Tamsy
When you said that to him, he was confused. Does he normally get injured? He can't recall. "My dear, if you wanted to be affectionate so badly, you could just say that." He laughs behind his sleeve. "Just want to make sure." You fix his coat and smooth it out before crossing your arms, walking away with a smile. Leaving Tamsy still halfway out the door, looking back at you.
...
Coming back, he sees you standing there by the door already. Smiling, he steps toward you, tilting his head before reaching out his perfectly clean hands toward you.
Resting your hand on his shoulder, you run your hands down his arms, watching his eyes flutter shut, enjoying the feeling of your strong grip. "Not even dirty? I mean, I get no injuries, but you're cleaner than when you left..." he just laughs. "You must remember it wrong." You tug his wrist behind you, having him crash into your lips, his piercing rubbing against the bottom of your lip. You feel him reach out with his free hand, placing it against your shirt. You pull away slightly, leaning into his ear. Gripping his wrist that's still out behind you, tighter.
"Cheater."
"Yet I'm still rewarded~"
Zanka
Walking into his room after washing some of his bloody clothes, you see him lying in bed facing away from you. You sit on the edge of the bed. Reaching over, you run your fingers through his hair, feeling him stiffen, and you sigh. "I know you don't feel good after today, but just know I believe in you. I'll do anything to motivate you." You see his shoulders relax before shifting to face you, looking up at you with his tired eyes. "After the next mission tomorrow, will you be here?" You move your hand from his hair to his cheek, brushing your thumb over his lip. "If you come back successfully and with little to no injuries, I'll stay here with you tomorrow. Even give you a good job kiss~" he looks away, considering it, before scoffing.
"Stop saying weird shit."
...
You stay in his room, cleaning and admiring the things in his room before hearing a creak of the door. Turning around, you stare at him. Finally, he walks toward you with a small smile that he's trying his hardest to hide. Eagerly awaiting your response, he stiffened at your unreadable expression before going completely still at the feeling of your fingers brushing his forehead and smoothing back his hair. His face was slightly red, still gripping his assistaff that was dirty and blackened. You put your hand over his and the staff leaning in to kiss him, feeling his grip loosen, "I knew you'd come back well." He pulls away and huffs out a laugh that makes his hair fall back into his face again. You can tell he feels better, with a light blush covering his face as he reaches over, cupping your hand over his staff.
Who else should I do? Requests open.
Cozy Dumpster In A Quaint Alley (on Fire) @eridanwannabe - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
