Life Goal: To Write A Fanfiction So Good That Everyone Who Joins The Fandom Newly Is Told That They Simply

Just a Taste 18+

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

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

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

Pairings: Shanks x fem!reader x Benn 

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

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

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

“Go get those filthy pirates!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s alright doll you can tell me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But you’re …”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Remnants of a night you’ll never forget.

Pulse - Portgas D. Ace

Portgas D. Ace x Reader

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

There had always been a somewhat wistful quality to Ace.

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

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

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

Or so you hoped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey! Hey! Breathe!” He poked at you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course.”

-_-

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m happy to help.”

“Not just for finding the lady.”

“No thanks needed.”

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

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

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

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

She wasn’t wrong about that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-_- 

Ace clearly loved being at sea again.

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

A child of the sea come home. 

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

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

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

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

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

So anyway, hand holding didn’t mean anything. 

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

No matter how much you wanted it to.

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

-_-

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

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

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

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

“Good morning,” you hummed jokingly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…before everything happened.

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

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

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

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

-_-

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

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

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

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

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

Oh! He was looking at you now. 

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

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

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

Or so you thought. 

Or so you thought.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was weird. 

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

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

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

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

“What’s with that reaction?”

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

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

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

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

-_-

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’d been worried. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Remember those sea kings we took down?”

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

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

“Urgh.”

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

Justice. 

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

Urgh the sheer egotism.

Disgusting. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It looks nothing like you!”

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

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

You never stood a chance.

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

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

“Good!” You squeezed his hand again.

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

Nightmares.

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

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

You held him back of course.

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

Oh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-_-

It was warm.

Too warm.

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

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

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

“Good morning?” You tried.

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

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

-_-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-_-

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey! Where are you going?”

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

It felt nice not needing to squint anymore.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ace!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-_-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well that had the potential to be ominous.

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

“Oh did he say he’s on his way back?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-_-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-_-

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey! I’m pretty strong!”

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

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

The person he wanted? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What?

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

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

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

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

“That’s what you heard?” He groaned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He chuckled, “who else could it be?”

Who else - well…wait.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sabo?” You asked tentatively.

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

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

“Nagging?”

“That’s how it felt to me back then.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded.

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

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

“Ace!” You barely garbled out.

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

“It’s not-”

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

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

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

“I hate your opinion.”

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

“You are,” you glared at him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ohhh…

Ohhhh nnnoooooo.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You think I’m out of your league.”

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

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

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

“No.”

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

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

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

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

“Mmm, even if they’re mine?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded at him, frustration finally cooling down.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

All you could do was blink at him. 

This was really happening. 

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

Oh.

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

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

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

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

“Never,” he affirmed.

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

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

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

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

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

“About?”

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

“How long is a while?”

“A few months?”

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

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

There was betrayal written all over his expression.

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

“He did?”

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

“How’d Thatch find out?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe!” You shrugged.

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

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

“How?” His confused expression was absolutely adorable.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ace!” You garbled out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Want more Ace stuff? Check out my MasterList

PLOT TWIST: all the other ninja get kidnapped and Lloyd spends an entire season trying to rescue them and the world in general.

When you’re a writer and you’re trying not to spoil your story to your friends...

Kingsman: The Secret Service 2014

This must be magic

oh god what did i do

IT SUMMONS MAIL EVERYONE TRY IT

---

STOP MAKING BAD DECISIONS AT 3AM

JUST GO TO BED

when in doubt just ask a dog 

#chris evans #in where he is actually steve rogers

𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

part two of after all this time

summary: you try to make sense of everything after that night with gojo satoru, the slytherin prince, but as much as you try to run away from it, it seems to follow you more. but he has to hate you for it, right? that could be the only explanation for why he seeks you out...right?

warnings: 18+ mdni all characters are 18, gojo slight angst, messy makeout, gojo eating pussy like his life depended on it, fingering, unprotected sex, penetrative sex

word count: 12k

note: yay! part two is done! please comment and reblog, it's really appreciated. thank you @jadeisthirsting for beta reading! <3

slytherin!gojo masterlist + jjk masterlist

If there was one thing you grew to understand about Hogwarts, it was that the castle was entirely unpredictable. 

From the moving staircases, the random ghosts that would appear out of nowhere, to the disappearing portraits that sometimes only reappeared to listen in on student gossip, you knew you had to expect the unexpected when it came to ancient school. 

But never in your wildest imagination would you have thought that you would’ve kissed Gojo Satoru. 

You couldn’t even pretend that it didn’t happen, despite the fact you wanted so desperately to obliviate your mind and move along with your life. 

You could still feel his lips on yours, even days after it happened. You could feel his hands on your body, the way he held you to him, the way he kissed down your neck. You could still hear the way he said your name, breathless, almost desperate. 

“Fuck,” he had whispered, heavy on your lips as he dipped down again to kiss down your chin tilting your head up to expose the column of your neck, “Fuck,” he said once more, diving down as he sucks and bites at your skin, his movements growing faster and more erratic once he hears the soft and sweet mewls that escape your swollen lips. 

You tried to blink it away.

“Satoru,” he had said against your skin, “Not Gojo. Not you.” 

Not you. 

That Saturday and Sunday you refused to move from your bed, huddled under blankets as the other girls in your dorm came and went. You could hear the loud party they held after yet another win at the quidditch game, so you just cast a silencio charm around your room, feeling your mattress create a permanent dent in the fetal position you were lying in. 

One of the kinder girls of your dormitory, Celeste, crouched down to where your head peeked out from your swarm of blankets, her brown brows furrowed together with worry, but you promised her it was just a stomach flu, nothing to worry about, and told her to go enjoy the party. 

That next Monday morning you made sure to go to the transfiguration classroom, glad to find that skipping breakfast helped to see that nobody except for Professor McGonagall seemed to be in the room, of course, aside from that little snowy owl perched atop her desk, its wide eyes blinking slowly at you as you walked in.

You remember how Professor McGonagall looked up briefly, annoyed that a student was here before classes even started, but she did a double take when she noticed it was you, welcoming you by saying your last name with a little bit of surprise. 

“How may I help you?” Her eyes looked at you over her glasses, her hands lay flat on her desk, next to the quill she was just using. 

“Professor, I have a request to ask of you.” 

A part of you was glad that you were such a good student, one who never asked for much and gave everything you had towards the work you did, especially for her class. McGonagall’s thin bow raised slightly, her lips pursing together as you motioned for you to continue. You swallowed thickly, pulling out the thick pieces of parchment tied together, your contribution to her essay, as you laid it down on her table. 

“I would like to change my partners…if possible,” your voice was shaking, “I have my work all done here,” quickly going to show her the work that you had done, but her hand outstretched, her slender finger grasping yours as you halted your movements. 

When you looked at her face, the only emotion you could trace, which was one you had never seen on the older woman, was genuine concern.

“Has Satoru done…something” She tried to find the right words, but you insistently shook your head, trying to act as if nothing was wrong aside from you.

“No, no,” you sputter out, “It’s me. He’s done nothing wrong. I just,” you sigh, trying to calm down your heart, noting that the large clock outside had struck three times and that her first-year students would be filing in any minutes, “Please, I’d do the rest of the essay alone if necessary.” You know that you were pleading with her at this point, but you couldn’t care. 

McGonagall looked you over once, noting the bags under your eyes, the way you actively looked like you hadn’t slept in days, and thought for a long second before she nodded, waving you along as other students started to come in. 

“I’ll take care of it,” she said, a promise, and you thanked her extensively, bidding her goodbye as you ran across school to make sure you didn’t miss Lupin’s riveting defense against the dark arts lesson about warding off vampires. 

And she stuck to her word. 

That day you sat in your usual seat, in the back, but instead of Gojo sitting next to you was a disgruntled Charlie Reeve, his arms crossed like a petulant child, depressed to be split up with his friend despite not having any work done. 

You saw his flash of white hair, stopping in confusion when he saw the Gryffindor in his seat, your eyes locking briefly as his nose flared. 

“Oh, Mister Gojo, I had to rearrange some partners,” Professor McGonagall called out, motioning him to come sit up front with Benny Thompson, “Some people thought it’d be better to leave this essay until it was absolutely necessary.” She cast the two Gryffindor boys a knowing look, not necessarily a lie, and deep inside you felt grateful that she was able to find something believable. 

And so, with all of your tedious efforts to make sure that you never bumped into Gojo Satoru, you went weeks without really seeing him. 

Of course, it was difficult, increasingly so as it seemed that he was everywhere you went. When you went to the library, he was there, at your usual table, either reading or working on homework, which meant that you had to weasel your way into the astronomy tower to do your work.

And then he began to go to the astronomy tower, you’d see him looking over the ledge, his hair flickering in the wind, his back thankfully to the stairs as you quietly made your way down, running away to find somewhere else. 

Sometimes when you were lying in bed, trying to go to sleep, unwillingly, your mind traveled back to that night. And it seemed like all your hard work was in vain because despite trying to act as if he didn’t exist, he was something that you could never forget. 

Gojo acted indifferent, however, which both helped and stung a bit. Helped because you were glad he went back to forgetting that you existed, and though you wanted him to act as if he maybe had feelings for you, you knew he never would, and so you blended back into the background

But despite it all, you found that somehow October bled into the unforgiving winds of November, which slowly turned into the winter of December. 

Your classes were wrapping up, and teachers no longer cared much seeing that they too were looking forward to the long-awaited and deserved break.

You found that with the workload that was slowly dying down (for you at least, seeing how you had finished up most of your exams, and all the essays and projects the professors had assigned to you months in advance were done, unlike some people who believed in the power of magic enough to leave it to the last week), you visited Hogsmeade more. It offered you some solace to take your mind off of everything. 

The snow was beginning to set both on the ground and on top of all the roofs and signs, making the small village look like a wonderland you’d see inside a snow globe. A part of you couldn’t stop the happy smile that made it on your face as you walked through the cobblestone streets, looking inside every shop as if you had the money to spend. 

On one of the Saturdays, you were able to give yourself a rest from the work you had to finish before the break started. You bundled up, a silver and green scarf wrapped around your neck, your old mittens (passed down from your mother, of course), and your thickest knitted sweater, went out for Hogsmade. 

Hogsmeade is usually busy during December, which you like, pretending that you were somewhere far away, perhaps a little village in France, as you gently make your way around the eager students ready to buy things for their families for the holidays. 

After a couple of years of visiting this place, you’ve picked up some key knowledge. Never go to Honeydukes before seven, otherwise, it’s entirely ransacked and they sometimes stock up on Saturdays at half past seven. Zonko’s is only good once in a while, otherwise, it’s too overwhelming, and Gladrags Wizardwear had something marked off if they went unnoticed for too long. 

And, perhaps the best part of your visits to Hogsmeade, you had a pass from McGonagall, which let you stay an extra two hours. While most students made their way back before their ten o’clock curfew at night, you were able to get special permission from Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape to stay till midnight. 

You told them that you didn’t do anything crazy and that the only reason why you longed to stay out late was really only for Saturdays because the three broomsticks sometimes brought in the wizarding jazz society, a group of witches and wizards who played live on their respective instruments. It was your favorite part of Hogsmeade, and after some negotiation, you were allowed out after ten. 

But before then, you spent your time in the other shops, browsing for nothing in particular. 

You found yourself admiring some of the intricately made quills outside a window that was on display. Surely expensive, but you simply looked at them, your face almost pressing up against the chilly glass to get a closer look. 

There was a group of friends a couple of feet away from you, and you could hear the giggling now and then about something, but you didn’t think it’d be best if you looked over to see what was going on, mind your own business. 

You walked along, moving to the next shop window when you noticed that the giggling almost seemed to be following you.   

You felt yourself peeking over briefly, somehow not being shocked that it was some of the seventh-year Slytherins, the kids you had grown up with, looking over at you, the girls pointing to something near you as they laughed behind their hands. 

Tough skin, you reminded yourself, trying to ignore it as you tried to look at the new cauldrons. At least, you would’ve distracted yourself had you not heard a loud, almost animated rip. 

You look down, but not quickly enough to see your bag tear open, some of your knuts fell out, along with your chapstick, your tissues, and some other miscellaneous things. 

It didn’t take a genius to glance over at the girls, to see one of them with their wands out as one of the other girls cackles, and while you were used to their antics, it didn’t hurt any less.

You bent down, going on your knees, trying to find some of the things that had disappeared in the snow. One of the girls, Avery McKenna, who talked loud seemed to talk even louder, as if wanting to get your attention. 

“Satoru! Satoru, look!” She spoke in a whisper which was louder than your normal speaking voice, and you looked from your lashes at the mention of his name. 

And you saw him as one of the other girls shuffled around, tugging at his coat sleeves to direct his attention away from whatever shop window he was looking into as she pointed a finger at you on the ground. You quickly looked back down before you made eye contact with him, your fingers growing cold from the bite of the snow. 

You didn’t want to know what he looked like, what sort of smile would take over his face at the sight of you looking like this. You pick up your bag, putting it under your arms so that it won’t grow wet from the snow, inspecting the gash with a heavy heart, realizing that there’s no way to mend it. It looks like a wolf had slashed its claws through the fabric, something that no needle and thread, or even a reparo charm could fix.

You shove the coins in your pockets, holding the rest in your gloved hands as you stand up, cheeks heating up in embarrassment as you feel their stares on you, the snow seeping in through your pants, causing you to shiver as you try to find a place you could into to get this sorted. 

Thankfully, The Three Broomsticks was just up ahead, and so you tried to mute out all the people behind you as you turned your back, walking up the street as you heard the snow crunch under your shoes, sniffing from the cold as you walked into the familiar pub. 

—-

The Three Broomsticks was a Hogsmeade staple. 

Inside the pub was a roomy place, a fire always lit in the corner, the flames crackling almost all the shouts and yells and drunk laughter. Up on the stone walls were photographs of famous witches and wizards who had visited the pub, paintings of people long past that used to frequent it, and family members of those who owned it. It smelled of ale and peppermint, the atmosphere warm and welcoming, something that you always enjoyed. 

It was usually full, so you count yourself lucky to find a little empty booth near the back. 

You got some water seeing how the last knut you needed to buy a butterbeer got lost somewhere in all the snow, and laid out all of your things on the table, including your mauled-up bag. 

You wipe at your eyes, careful that nobody sees the stray tears, and allow yourself to sit against the wooden booth, shutting your eyes for a second. 

You count to ten, allow yourself to calm your breathing down, and crack your neck, moving it around to your left and right side. The sun was nearly starting to set and it was already five, so it was going to be a bit before their usual jazz band came. Although you’d been looking forward to it since last week, at this point you just wanted to go back, have some soup, and then sleep. 

When you open your eyes you find yourself staring at the ceiling, breathing deeply through your nose as you look back down, a surprised gasp escaping your lips to find somebody sitting in front of you.  

“I-” Gojo starts but you’ve already started collecting all of your things off the table, your heartbeat skyrocketing as you shove whatever you can in your pockets, sitting up as you try to leave.  

But he’s fast, sitting up from his seat, blocking you with his tall body as you feel your heart in your throat, pounding away rapidly as you try to look away from him. 

He’s here, he’s here, he’s here. 

His hand is holding your elbow, he’s holding you, and he seems desperate, his eyes searching yours, begging you to just listen to him. 

Why is he here? Why is he holding you?

“Can we talk?” His white brows are furrowed, his lips parted as his thumb rubs up and down on your skin, “Please?” 

What does he want? 

You’re looking at him, really looking at him for the first time in months, and despite not seeing him face to face for a while, you can still notice the little changes. There are bags under his eyes, he seems worn down. His eyes, the ones that you often dreamed about, were swirling with unspoken emotions. His lips looked like they were chewed raw, much like yours. 

But he still looks like he did that one night in October, the way he spoke your name as if it were the only thing he could say, his hair tousled by the December winds, and his cheeks flushed a rosy pink. 

“I n-need to…” you swallow thickly, your mouth running dry as your eyes dart around to not look at him, “I need to go.” 

But you don’t, and he knows that you don’t.

“Your water…miss,” the waitress suddenly comes around with your mug full to the brim with water, looking curiously at you and Gojo as she sets it down on the table, giving you a small smile as she walks away. 

“Please,” he says one more time, and his voice is heavy, piercing through your chest and into your mind, working like a devil’s snare as it wraps itself around you until you are entrapped by everything that is him. 

You look at the door of the pub, noting that none of his friends are either there or outside, and you look at him once more.

You lick at your gnawed lips, letting out a defeated sigh as you give him a single nod, watching as his face breaks into a smile, his shoulders sagging from the release of tension as he helps you back into your seat and climbs into his own, across from you, and you set all your stuff back on the table. 

His eyes follow your movements, look at your bag and the contents that used to be in it and he whips out his wand, going to cast a spell before you cut him off. 

“Reparo didn’t work,” you mutter, fidgeting with your fingers as you awkwardly sink into your seat, watching him intently as if he had been a painting you’d been studying that suddenly came to life. 

His eyes flicker to yours and he puts his wand away sheepishly. 

“I didn’t know that they were going to do that,” he finally says, breaking the silence. 

You nod curtly, looking at your hands resting in your lap as you try to think of what to say. Of which emotion you should call upon to do the talking for you, which thing you had been itching to say to him ever since that night. 

“It’s nothing they haven’t before,” you finally say, looking up at him with a sad smile, watching as his chest rattles with an inhale. His fingers are interlocked with each other as they rest on the table, his green sweater resting snuggly on his muscular frame as he leans in, as if he were scared you were going to disappear. 

He goes to open his mouth to speak, but you cut him off again. 

“Why do you care?” 

His mouth shuts, his blue eyes shimmering brightly in the light of the fireplace. He doesn’t seem angry or annoyed, just shocked. 

“What?” 

You breathe roughly out your nose, looking away briefly as you click your tongue against your teeth, your fingers gliding across the mug, the little water droplets that slid onto the table creating a ring around the cup. You twist and turn it around by the handle, deep in thought. 

“Why do you care so much? Why do you care about what happens to me?” You press, your head tilting to the side. You try to look fierce, trying to channel the anger, the pain, the hurt that you’ve been feeling not only since October but since you first stepped foot through that castle. 

His lips parted as if he were going to say something, but his head dipped, his fingers playing with that gold ring on his finger, the one of his family crest. 

“I…” Gojo can’t seem to finish, can’t seem to find the words. But that’s fine because you’re finding them for him. 

“I’ll find a new purse and I’ll move along with my day because I’m used to this Gojo,” your voice is slowly growing, “I’m used to your friends, to you and your pureblood hierarchy. So stop acting like you’re this hero that should get rewarded with whatever it is you want from me by talking to me o-or pitying me,” you ramble, your voice dripping with venom, your eyes stinging as you try to control yourself, “Just please stop acting like you care.” 

He doesn’t say anything, his lips pressed together tightly, his jaw ticking. His eyes reflect a storming sea right now, one a sailor would never return from.

“That night, when you kissed me,” your voice was loud enough to be a whisper, but he hears you, his breathing hitching as he most likely thinks back to that night, “Were you able to cross off another check mark on your list? Did you finally fulfill all the crazy things you wanted to accomplish?” 

“Stop,” he seethes out through clenched teeth, his eyes daring you to continue. 

You’re glad that the pub is so busy and so loud to cover the two of you. 

“Did I taste different than the pureblood girls? Than Alicent? Than Eliana?” You pushing him, pushing at his buttons because this has to be it, this has to be when he finally tells you that you were some bet that he made with his friends, that kissing you was worth some extra galleons to fill his pockets as he came back gallivanting to the other Slytherin purebloods. 

His eye twitches, his breathing heavy as he murmurs another stop but you just shake your head, hoping that he doesn’t see the gloss covering your eyes, the way your lips are trembling thinking of all the possibilities. 

“You’re mean, Gojo,” the words fall from your lips, heavy, pointed straight at him, and you can feel a tear drop down your chin, splattering on the table, right next to all the water droplets from your mug, “A-and you don’t even realize it. Or maybe you do, I don’t know,” you shrug, “Those weeks when we were working on that essay I sent an owl to my mum and she sent one back saying how happy she was that I finally had a friend.” 

There’s a beat of silence. 

You can’t stand to look at his face. 

You helplessly wipe at your cheeks, looking away as you heaved in a shaky breath, nodding confidently for your own sake as you stood up.

“I need to go,” you mutter,  your water sat untouched as you made your way around the people standing and talking, made your way out the door, and let your tears loose. 

—

The break couldn’t come by any faster. 

You occupied your time and mind by doing everything possible. 

You found a broom closet that was big and comfortable enough for you to do your work, and most days you found yourself there. You ate your meals alone, as always, and made sure that wherever Gojo was, you weren’t.

One of the only things you could look forward to was when the holidays came and when everybody left. It meant that only a handful of Slytherin’s stayed and that meant that you could finally have some moments of quiet to yourself. 

Hogwarts was a different kind of magical during Christmas time, and you tried to take time to appreciate the dozen trees, the floating candles that had red ribbons tied around them, the little snow clouds that sometimes followed you around, and the mistletoes that some of the fifth years thought would be funny to hang up around the castle. 

And when the breaks finally came around, you watched as people bid each other farewell, their bags packed sufficiently enough for the two-week break as they made their way out of the school and to the train, waving at each other until they departed. 

You watched from the stairs, knowing that you too could go home, but seeing that your mom picked up more shifts around the holidays, you’d just be spending these two weeks alone rather than surrounded by strangers, which you still preferred. 

The professors seemed to be in a better mood around this time as well, and it helped with distracting you from all the other thousand thoughts that were running through your mind. 

The Slytherin common room was always empty around this time of year. Seeing that most of the kids went to their families, it gave you some time to actually enjoy the amenities you usually miss out on during other times of the year. 

The room itself was decorated with a large Christmas tree near the large, arching window that looked out into the black lake, and stockings on the fireplace of those students that were staying. 

Despite Slytherin and their hatred for the color red, the room was a nice mix between the two clashing colors. 

After dinner, on the first night with everyone gone, you made your way down to the dungeons, muttering out the password as the large doors swept open, allowing you inside. 

Your first thought was to sit in front of the fireplace on one of the couches and catch up on reading, but seeing that there was almost nobody here you decided to go change into something more comfortable. 

Making your way up the stairs that led to the girl's dormitories you noted that most of those who were staying were relays from years before, some fourth and sixth years, a couple of first years, and rounded the corner that led to your room. 

Well, that would’ve led to your room had it not been blocked. 

“Sorry!” You cry out in surprise, a little shocked, and then your shock melts away as you feel like banging your head against the stone wall when you see that it is none other than Gojo. 

“I need to tell you someth-”

“The train left!” You cry out, feeling like dragging him out by his hair. 

“I’m aware-”

“Then why aren’t you on it?” You push past him as you go to open your door, feeling him right behind you. 

You’re glad that all of your other roommates are gone because Gojo doesn’t seem to be giving it much thought as he comes in as well. 

Your arms are crossed as you look around, looking for something, anything, that you could use to ward him away. He’s standing awkwardly at the doorway, wringing his fingers in a way that he never does. 

He’s wearing a loose sweater, gray in color, and it seems to make his eyes even more striking. There are still bags under his eyes, but his face seems a little more flushed as if he was slowly coming back from the dead. His white hair is tousled, and you note that he hasn’t styled it in a while. 

“I’ve been thinking ever since the three broomsticks,” he’s talking and you’re pacing around the room, trying to act like you don’t care that he’s here, “And I have some things I need to tell you.” 

You’re rummaging around in one of your cupboards, but he knows what you’re doing, and he steps a little closer to you, shutting the door behind him as you glance up at him briefly, raising a brow. 

He swallows, running a hand through his white strands as you turn your back to him, looking through your jewelry box as you begin to take off your earrings. 

“I saw you, this summer.”

You stop. 

Gojo continues. 

“My parents had some ministry work to do, and we went to the city. I was walking around one day, trying to figure out where I was supposed to go when I saw you,” Gojo sounded nearer, his voice more desperate, “I saw you through a window. You were working… I think. You had this apron on and you were walking around this little restaurant.” 

You swear you could hear your heartbeat. 

“And you were smiling at something this guy said, and you just looked so…happy,” he pauses, “And pretty…you looked so pretty and I didn’t know what to do because I’ve never felt this strange feeling in my chest where…” 

Where everything just stops, then starts moving in tandem as if there had been a loose screw the entire time until now. 

“And I think I’ve always felt this way, you know?” He’s not stopping, and you’re scared that if you look at him you’re going to believe him, believe that he’s telling the truth and that this isn’t some sort of dream you’re forcing yourself to see, “In our fifth year, when you were telling the class about your happiest memory, you had this smile on your face. Or last year, when we were in potions and Nanami said a joke, you’d laugh and I just felt so…lost.” 

He’s lying. 

“N-no, no, you’re lying,” you croak out, moving past him as you keep your head down, going over to your bed as you sit at the end of it, needing something to sit down on because otherwise you’d collapse.

“I’m not,” Gojo pleads, his voice behind you, “And for so long I thought I was lying to myself because I didn’t know what I was feeling,” he takes a few steps closer, standing at your bedpost, “I’d never felt this way about anyone. A-and you’re right, you are different. You’re so different from anybody else and I love it.”

You’re shaking your head, your back to him as you sniffle. 

“I don’t believe you,” you mutter, your arms wrapped around your middle as your head dips down, lashes wet with tears. 

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds and you realize it’s because he’s moving to where you’re sitting, and you see him clearly as he crouches down on the ground, his hands moving to hold yours as he forces you to look at him. 

It’s such a strange sight seeing the Gojo Satoru, the Prince of Slytherin, the most stoic and composed person you’ve ever met so…vulnerable in front of you.

“I know-” 

You’re shaking your head at him, lips pouting together as you blink slowly, your nose scrunched up in frustration. 

“You’re lying-” 

“I’m not, I’m begging you, please-” 

“You’re lying, Gojo,” You say, your voice cracking as you feel your tears rolling down your, collecting on your chin before they splatter crudely on your bed sheets, “You don’t feel this way about me. You’re either lying to me o-or to yourself because…” you struggle to find the words, “Because in no world would you feel this way about me.” 

His hands are warm, his thumb gentle as it rubs over your knuckles. And you don’t notice it until he pulls them away to wipe at your tears, his fingers soft and slow against your skin as you hiccup.

“But I do,” he whispers, his thumb cradling your cheek, “I do. Y-you’re so smart, and kind, and witty, and caring, and you’re so wonderfully you.”

This is too much. 

“You don’t know anything about me,” you plead, wondering when he was going to give up the act and leave so you could be alone. 

“You only eat your eggs if there’s a little bit of syrup on them,” Gojo says immediately, and your eyes shoot up to his, “You put an extra flick on the dots of your i’s, you like McGonagall most out of all your other professors, you never change your necklace, you-” 

You push him by the shoulders, frustrated knowing that he’d never stop, changing the subject.

“If you cared about me you would’ve done something,” your voice isn't yours and you can’t recognize it as it escapes your windpipes, “I mean, you only had three years. Y-you called me a mudblood, your friends never stopped when they were doing, you - you,” deep inside, your breath is lodged inside your lungs and you choke on it. 

Gojo cradles your head, pulling you into his chest, and for some reason you let him. You melt into his warmth, into the way he holds you as if you were the thinnest piece of glass, and you can’t remember the last time somebody held you like this.

His hand rubs up and down your back, and you feel your tears and snot wet his sweater, but he doesn’t seem to care. 

“I did,” his own voice shakes, “I did, and I…” he swallows his bile, “I wish I could go back and take it back, take all of it back. If I could trade everything I have to turn back time and change the past, I would. I’ll spend my life making it up if you’d let me. You have no idea what I would do…” for you.

You pull away from him, and he lets you. 

“You’re all I’ve ever been able to think about this past year. And especially ever since that night, I couldn’t get you out of my mind,” his hands go up to hold your face, tracing your features with the most delicate touch, “Your eyes, your nose,” his finger glides down the slope of it, “Your lips, your skin, your hands.” 

“But,” your hands go up to his wrists, pulling them down and he lets you rest them on your lap, hanging off your every word as if you were religion, watching you preach as he remembers every word, every syllable, every tone and inflection you have as gospel, “I’m a muggle-born,” you laugh wetly and painfully, “And you hate muggle-borns.”

And for once you see him break into a small and melancholy smile that's full of years of longing, of confusion, of wanting, and his white strands fall on his face. Unconsciously you move them out of the way so that you could see his eyes. 

“My parents hate muggle-borns, and I’m their only son,” your eyes drop to that gold ring, and he notices, “I believed them, and for so long I felt so confused because you weren’t like anything they described,” his lips quivered, “I don’t hate muggle-borns, and I don’t hate you,” he raised your hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to them, “I could never hate you.”

You inhale shakily, your heart thumping in a strange, new rhythm. 

“What about the others?” You ask shakily, “Your friends, your parents, everybody else?” 

He shrugs, looking indifferent as he plays with your fingers. 

“I’ll get new friends,” he shoots you a small smile, “And I can just buy new parents.” 

You snort, rolling your eyes at his antics, and he brightens up seeing your change in demeanor. 

“You…like…me?” You ask finally. 

He lets out a little bit of air in a disbelieving chuckle. 

“I like you more than the air I need to breathe,” he kisses your knuckles again and you snort, rolling your eyes as you wipe at the corners of them. 

“Then how have you been breathing all this time without me?” You ask a bit teasingly, wondering how you never noticed that his eyes have little specks of green in them, or how the blush on his cheeks sometimes traveled up to his forehead. 

“Horribly,” he says and you give him a small laugh, “But it feels like I just took my first breath after eighteen years.” 

—

After that, Gojo could not be separated from your side. 

He sat next to you during all of your meals, throwing nasty jinxes at anybody who looked at the two of you weirdly. Sure, people couldn’t stop talking, but after the first three people who left with a red ink-looking stain on their face, they learned to keep their whispers low. 

When the two of you were in the common rooms he laid next to you as you read, or vice versa, pulling you into his chest as he told you stories from his childhood. 

And of course, it took you a while to warm up to him, but slowly and surely you felt at ease around him, feeling like you could be as true to yourself without any fear of repercussions because he loved you wholly, and he had no cares about anything else. 

“What’s that you’re reading?” He’d say sometimes, looking over your shoulders to scan whatever book it was that you were reading. Thankfully you still had a couple of days till Christmas, and another week of break after that, so the common room was empty, spare for a few stragglers. 

The fireplace crackled in the background, the smell of cinnamon and cloves heavy in the air. 

“Voyages with Vampire,” you reply, turning the page as you hear him groan next to you. 

“Lockhart? The fraud?”

You giggle, shoving him a little bit, eyes never leaving the page as you try not to lose your spot. 

“Yeah, but his books are interesting.” 

And Gojo didn’t care too much, because as you got to read your book he got to be with you, which was all he’s ever wanted since he was fourteen. 

Other days he’d take you to Hogsmeade, his hand holding onto yours, letting you steer him into the different shops you wanted to look at, a content smile on his face. He loved the way you looked, bundled up in your scarves and sweaters, and he loved that it was mainly just the two of you, seeing that Hogsmeade was unusually empty with everybody gone. 

And sometimes he’d squeeze your hands a couple of times just to let you know that he was there, and you’d squeeze back twice, looking behind your shoulder so that you wouldn’t miss his boyish grin. 

He mentally noted all the things you picked up, asking if you wanted it, but when you saw that he was beginning to pull out his wallet you shook your head sheepishly, putting it back as you began looking at other things. 

“Let me just get this-” 

“No!” you cried out, embarrassed as you moved away from whatever shelf it was, hearing him let out a sigh of frustration, laughing at his childish antics. 

“But I can just-” 

“No, Gojo,” you’d tell him, your voice a little sterner, “I don’t like you because you have money. Too much of it, might I add.” 

And he’d pout, his arms circling your waist as he petulantly stays in place, resting his chin on your shoulder so that you can’t move. 

“But I just so coincidentally seem to have it,” he pressed a kiss to the side of your head as you tried to look at something else, trying to act like you didn’t turn to jelly in his hands, “Why won’t you take it?”

You giggled, angling your head to look back at him. 

“Because I don’t need a bursting raspberry delight,” you chided him and he’d groan, pulling you even closer to his chest as he outstretched one of his long arms, picking up something in front of you, inspecting it as he showed it to you, putting it back as you shook your head, “And I don’t need cockroach clusters.” 

And you smiled, feeling happy, genuinely happy as you continued to look around the store with Gojo latched onto you. You felt normal for once, felt the way you’ve been wanting to feel ever since you were eleven.

—

The days passed by and you found yourself back in the common rooms the night before Christmas, sitting on the couches, facing Gojo as you listened to him talk about all the things he’d been wanting to tell you.

The days passed by and you found yourself back in the common rooms with Gojo the night before Christmas, letting him play with your hair as you leaned up against him on the couch, reading another book. 

“Did I ever tell you how Benny Thompson didn’t know what an animagus was?” Gojo says randomly and you gasp, looking over your shoulder as he nods as you lay your book down on your chest. 

“You’re lying,” you say and he shakes his head, twisting and turning that ring on his hand the way he usually does when he likes to fidget. 

“And he asked me if the books in the library had all been written in the actual library,” he continues and you let out a loud, shocked laugh, holding your hand over your mouth in disbelief. 

You put your book on the table so that you could move up closer to him so that you wouldn’t have to crane your neck so much. 

“Well, to be fair, I think he was just a bit disgruntled to be moved away from his partner in crime,” you move some of the hair out of his face as helmets you sit on his lap, his hands resting comfortably on your waist as you lean in to whisper, “Seeing how I saw them hooking up in one of the broom closets.” 

Gojo’s lips part, eyes wide in shock as you nod slowly, a smug grin on your face.

“Makes sense,” he finally muttered and you snorted, thinking back to how the two boys literally couldn’t be away from each other for too long before they made a fuss about it. 

Most of the other students had gone up to their beds, excited for the early morning they’d be having with presents and such, but you liked staying up this night, liked watching as the presents slowly appeared under the tree.

His mouth opened in a small yawn and you moved slightly, feeling guilty for keeping him up so long. 

“Do you ‘wanna sleep?” You offered, twirling some of his white strands around your fingers as his eyes traced over your features. 

His hands moved up and down your back, holding you close to his body. 

“But the presents?” Gojo started, looking at the big Christmas tree near the fireplace as you giggled, noting how he was trying his best to control the yawns that were threatening to spill from his lips. 

“I’ll just look at them tomorrow,” you promise with a giggle, swinging your legs off from him as you stand, stretching your arms above your head as you let out a tired yawn of your own, rubbing at your eyes as you bookmark the page you were at, watching as he stands up, doing a little stretch of his own.

He slings an arm around your shoulders, pulling you to him as he presses a kiss against your forehead, letting you lead the way back to the dormitories. 

“Promise to wake up early tomorrow?” You say, looking at him with a raised brow, watching as he crosses his hands across his heart. 

“Swear on it,” he assures you with a little cheeky grin, his shoulder playfully knocking yours as you snort. 

The two of you walked in comfortable silence, your eyes taking in all the festive decorations, not noticing how he couldn’t stop looking at you. The girl's dormitories were on the left, and down the hall, you’d find the boys, which meant that you were the first to depart as you neared the top of the stairs. 

You move to stand in front of your door, your book in your hands as you stare up at him, noticing the pink flush that never seemed to leave, all over his cheeks. He looked so pretty like this. 

“This is me,” you say jokingly and he chuckles softly, his hands back on your waist as you feel him press a gentle kiss to your forehead. He never pressured you to kiss him back, always leaving small yet thoughtful pecks either on the crown of your head or on your face, wherever he’d find that you didn’t squeal as he tried to kiss.

He says your name quietly, looking down at you as you meet him in the middle. 

“Merry Christmas Satoru,” you whisper, and you see the wide, boyish smile that breaks across his face when you say his name, loving it only when he hears it from your lips. 

“Merry Christmas sweetheart,” his voice quieter than usual, kinder, and in a lovesick way that not even amortentia could replicate.

You look up for a brief second when you sense something is off, and you giggle at the little green and white plant that is forming above your head.

“Mistletoe,” you mutter. 

“Hm?” He sounds confused until he looks up when he sees it growing, it’s green leaves and little white flowering buds, looking back down at you. 

And again, just like that night in October, you don’t know which one of you it was that moved closer to bridge the gap, but either way, only seconds later did you feel him press his lips against yours, and you were gone.

He was gentler than the last time as if he was savoring your lips, your taste, the way you moved against him. Gojo wrapped an arm around you, tugging you to him, his other hand fumbling with the door handle as the two of you tumbled inside, his foot raising to kick it shut as you tangled your fingers in his hair. 

“S-satoru,” you whine, needing more of him, needing him in a way you’ve never felt, your eyes fluttering shot when he bites at your lips, his tongue prodding past your lips as you let him, your stomach fluttering delightfully, “More, need more,”

His eyes flicked open for a second, ensuring you were okay, and he grinned. 

His lips resumed their movements, sucking and yours, teeth nipping as your face became of a mess of spit, moaning slightly as he nudged your jaw up with his nose, your head tilting backward as you gave him more room on your neck. 

Mindlessly you reach for your wand in your back pocket, waving it near the direction of your door as you lock it and cast a muffliato charm, something you would thank yourself for greatly later.

Gojo was relentless as he pressed kisses and sucked harshly on your skin, needing to mark up what was his, needing people to see that you were his, and you could only whine as he left dark marks on your skin, soothing them with little pecks as he moved down. 

His scent was all-consuming, the way he held you made you go dizzy, and if only you knew that what you felt, he felt ten-fold more. Gojo was so crazy about you, that if you told him to jump from his broomstick he’d gladly do it.

“Is this,” he sighs, trying to catch some air, “This okay? Do you want me to stop?” 

And you quickly shake your head, muttering out no, no, as he chuckled darkly, moving your (his) sweater away from your shoulders so he could kiss down there too. 

Your hands, which had been wrapped around his neck, fell to his chest, pushing at his sweater as you wanted to paw at the skin, wanting to feel more of him, and you heard his breathing stutter, his lips pausing momentarily at the feeling of your hands on him. 

He says your name like a mantra like he’s been waiting his entire life to say it, and you catch his eyes once again like he’s asking for permission to continue, and you nod, smiling up at him as you let him.

Your fingers grasp at the hem of his sweater, tugging it upwards so that you could see his skin beneath, the muscles sitting nicely, a glimpse you sometimes saw when he was moving around too much, and your heart stumbled. 

He helped you, tugging it upwards and over his head as he discarded it somewhere on the floor, and for once you feel the air get knocked from your lungs. 

He’s built. Long, muscular shoulders, soft skin that shouldn’t be as daunting as it looked right now, but he wasn’t even focused on that, his nimble fingers running across your waist where your sweater had hitched upwards, and you just know that you need more of this. 

You’re not even thinking as you shed it off of you, joining him on the floor, and his eyes widen, swallowing thick as he sees what he only thought he’d be able to see in the back of his mind as he dreamed. 

You were stunning, and suddenly he thought back to the statues he saw in Italy when he traveled there as a child. He thought back to how those ladies looked, and how the sculptors must be twisting and turning in their graves when they could’ve had you as their muse. 

“Stopp,” you whine, embarrassed, your hands going up to cover your naked skin, but he gently pushes them down, kissing your collarbone, the skin above your breasts which were still hidden with your bra as he shakes his head. 

“You’re beautiful,” he mutters, the words escaping him as if his mind is working faster than any other part of his body, “So beautiful.” 

He dips his head back down to kiss you, and a surprised sound escapes your lips, but you welcome it nonetheless, feeling entranced by him, by the fervor in his movements, as if he wouldn’t survive without this.

His hands worship you, slow and careful as they run against your naked skin walking you back so that your knees hit the back of your bed. 

“You’re pretty good-looking too,” you try for a joke but it falls short from your lips because it’s true. You’d read stories of Aphrodite and Persephone fighting over Adonis just because he was the most gorgeous man they met, and you were worried that if the gods were real you’d have to hide him away forever. 

He hums in the back of his throat, as if he didn’t believe you, and gingerly laid you down on your bed, his massive body looming over you as you smile, a gleeful smile on your face as you try to make sense of what your life was. 

“What’s so funny?” Gojo teased, pressing little butterfly kisses on your cheek, the tip of your nose, your chin, and you couldn’t stop smiling, feeling ticklish when he kissed your neck again, a light giggle falling from your lips that made his ears turn pink. 

“Nothing,” you said breathlessly, squealing when he bit the skin in the middle of your tits, swatting at his head as he grinned, pressing a soothing kiss to the spot. 

“No, it has to be something,” he argues, kissing down the valley of your breasts, down your stomach, never breaking eye contact with you as you swallow thickly, no longer laughing as you feel a heat growing in your stomach, “Is it funny when I kiss here?” He presses a kiss above your navel, “Or here?” He’s reaching the top of your jeans, pulling them down slightly to kiss your hip bone, “Or maybe here?” 

And you shake your head, want and desire in your eyes and he chuckles darkly, slowly unbuttoning your jeans as he slides them down your legs, his heart sputtering in his chest when he comes back up to see you all sprawled out for him. 

You feel self-conscious about your choice of undergarments, both old and nearly falling apart at the seams, not matching in any sense of the word, but Gojo doesn’t seem to care. He looks at you as if you’re a painting that’s suddenly come to life, and he doesn’t know how to handle that. 

You reach behind yourself to work at the old clasp of your bra, sliding it down your arms as you lie back down, looking sheepishly at him as you realize you’re far more exposed at the moment than he is. 

But Gojo seems to have gone to another world, not moving from where he was as his eyes don’t leave from your chest. 

“Don’t look at me like that!” You shout, trying to cover up your bare chest with your hands but he gently tugs your wrists away, his blue eyes wavering as he groans, getting closer to you before he glances up.

“Don’t hide from me then,” he’s pleading, beginning, “Please.” 

And you can’t, because the way he presses gentle kisses to your bare breasts is unlike anything you’ve felt before. You’re breathing hitches, and your head falls back to your pillows as his mouth closes over on your nipples, a moan ripping from your throat. 

“Oh,” you say, breathing shakily through your nose as his other hand goes to your other tit, his thumb flicking over your nipple as you feel yourself grow wetter down there, terrified that there’s going to be a pool when he looks. 

He sucks, bites, marking up this territory that only he’s going to see, his pink lips switching to your other one as you whine out loud, feeling lightheaded as he presses three kisses to your hard nipple, worshiping you like you were his deity. 

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he says with a mouthful of tit, pulling up from your chest as he kisses you briefly, kissing down your body one more time before he settles in between your legs, “And no man has been more willing to die than me.” 

You whine when his hot kisses trail up from your calf to your knees, wet as they glisten in the candlelight as if he was making his path visible up to where you were burning, needing for him to meet you. 

“You talk a l-lot,” you’re trying to sound steady but you can’t when he’s looking at you like that, but he just kisses the inside of your thigh for a second long, his nose nudging at your clothed cunt as you whine. 

You’ve only heard about the other girls talking about sex, feeling embarrassed as they acted out what the other guys did with them. They talked about how they threw them around on the bed or how they pushed their heads down into the pillows but they never mentioned anything about this.

“You’re right,” he murmurs, “I should stop.” 

And he doesn’t give you any warning as he presses a kiss to your clit through your underwear, your little gasp of surprise going straight to his dick. He hitches your legs on his shoulders, looping a finger around the waistband of your panties as he slides them down, a deep, guttural groan almost punched from his lungs at the sight of your glistening cunt. 

Fuck, he thought to himself, you actually were going to be the death of him with the way he still can’t properly breathe around you. 

“Perfect,” Gojo whispers, his head dipping down, “You’re perfect.” 

And before you can chide him again, he dives down, his tongue licking and sucking at your pussy lips, your back arching off of the bed as your fingers grasp onto his head for support, unknowingly pushing him even further into you. 

He’s fast, tasting you as he groans again, your saccharine essence bursting against his tongue, and he can’t control himself. It’s so messy and wet, and you can see your juice shining on his chin when you glance down briefly to look at him. 

“O-oh,” you stutter when he pushes a slender finger inside your walls, clenching down on him as his lips find your clit, suctioning at it as you whine for him to go fast, “Oh god,” 

He smiles against you, his finger slowly moving in and out, his lips kissing your clit, feeling the way you grew tight around him and didn’t stop. 

When he added his middle finger you felt like you were going to die, not knowing how you’d be able to handle all of him if this was just you losing yourself on his fingers, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care right now. 

His fingers are long and reach deep within you, something you’ve never felt before, but knowing that you’d surely die without it if he stopped.

“S-Satoru,” you’re mewling, and he thinks he could just cum with the way you’re saying his name, “Don’t stop, please, f-faster.” 

And he kisses your cunt to tell you that he hears you, his fingers positioning in and out of you, his tongue alternating from where his fingers were to going back up to your little bud, your eyes screwed shut as you feel that rope grow tighter and tighter in your stomach. 

His unoccupied hand travels up your stomach to toy with your breasts, flicking your nipples back and forth, the added sensation along with everything else causing you to nearly lose whatever sanity it was that you had left. 

Your toes curled, your fingers gripping onto his white strands even tighter, feeling bad for how hard you were pulling at him, but he urged you, loving that sting. 

“How do you feel?” He takes a break, his voice a little muffled, his fingers not stopping as you whine helplessly, “Everything okay?” 

And you can tell he’s just teasing you because when you push his head back down he goes willingly, acting as if you were his last meal on this earth and he just couldn’t wait for the sweet release of death. 

“Good,” you moan, “S-so good,” and your voice is egging him on, making him go faster and faster, your toes curling as he switches between his fingers and his mouth, doing something heavenly that you never knew you could experience. 

You’re growing tighter around him, your chest heaving as you feel something strange, unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, coming. 

“W-wait, ‘Toru, I…” and you can’t stop it, your eyes going white as he doesn’t stop either, his fingers pistoning in and out of you with no remorse, “I don’t know…fuck…coming, I…” and you’re just babbling mindlessly now, your back almost off of the bed as something snaps and you’re gushing around his fingers. 

It’s euphoric, the feeling. You can’t breathe but somehow you can breathe better than you have in your life, your walls clenched around him like a vice, your thighs shaking as you cum around his fingers. 

You wailed out a hopeless moan, your hands covering your mouth as if that could silence you, fat tears dotting your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure you were feeling and you were trying to fill your lungs back up with air as his mouth never stopped sucking at your clit until he was sure your climax was over.

When you finally calmed down and sank back onto the bed, Gojo sat up from between your thighs, his hair messy, chin and lips soaked with his spit and your release, his eyes a bright cerulean blue. 

You watched as he stuck his fingers in his mouth, cleaning you off of him, moaning like a whore at the sight. He dipped back down, kissing you feverishly, letting you kiss yourself on him as you whine, feeling like a different person entirely. 

When he pulls away there’s a line of spit connecting your lips, and he’s never looked happier.

“Are you feeling good?” He’s rubbing soothing circles on your hips, “Want to stop?” 

You groan, swatting at his shoulders. 

“You’re too attentive,” you say, and he snorts, kissing in between your brows as he pecks your lips one last time, reaching down to unbutton his pants, and throw them somewhere along with the rest of your clothes. 

You watch in a love-sick haze as he tugs at his boxers, his fingers quick as he discards them too, and suddenly, the two of you are bare before each other. 

He is Adonis, you finally decide when you get to get a full look at him, there’s no question. 

His legs are just as toned as the rest of him, his thighs huge with pure muscle, something necessary to be quidditch captain as well as one of the best seekers Hogwarts has ever seen. The v-line that leads down to his…oh god. 

He’s huge, and while you haven’t been with any other guy, you can tell that he’s big. His dick sits hard and angry against his stomach, his pretty pink tip leaking with pre, curving slightly. Your mouth waters at the veins that start at his base, his white hairs trimmed, and go upwards. 

How would he fit in you? 

“Don’t worry,” Gojo assures you, as if reading your mind, “I’ll go slow. Tell me at any point if it hurts, okay?” 

And you nod, your mouth watering as he climbs atop of you, his hand near your head as he presses one final kiss to your hairline, wrapping your leg around his waist as his other hand goes down to finger his dick, plunging two fingers into your wet pussy, lubricating it in your wetness as he looks down at where the two of you met. 

“Ready?” He asks, and you can only whine, murmuring out a needy yes as he chuckles, your legs spreading open to accommodate him, and he lines his tip up with your entrance. 

You feel like the air that you had so tirelessly gulped back seconds ago was punched out of you at the feeling, and he stays true to his words, going as slow as humanly possible so that you could get used to his length. 

He pushes past you gently and carefully, your walls clenching around him, memorizing every vein he has, the curve of his dick, and you watch as his hips press into yours, the way his abs tense as he tries to go slow. 

It stings, but in the most delicious way possible. Your eyes dot with tears, but you need him to move, not knowing why he was taking so long.

Gojo balances himself above you, and you grow wetter and wetter the more he sinks into your warmth, your legs circling his waist to pull him in even closer, your arms tangling around his shoulder, into the hairs at his nape. 

“More,” you whisper, needing him unlike anything you’ve needed before, “M-more, ‘Toru, please,” 

His eyes look at you with slight apprehension. 

“Are you s-” 

“Yes,” you cut him off, your legs tightening around him as he groans, his dick pressing more into you, sinking into you completely until all of him was sheathed inside your cunt. 

You could feel him in your stomach with the way he was pressing up into you, feel the outline of his dick against your skin, and his head dipped down so that you couldn’t see his face anymore, his breathing stuttering as he tried to regain his composure, trying his best to not pull out and slam back into you. 

Gojo gives you a couple of seconds to grow used to him and tries to be as much of a gentleman as he can be, but with every other tick of that clock on the wall he thinks he’s going to go inside, not recognizing himself anymore. 

Your chest heaves, and you nod. 

“‘M ready,” you say finally, and his head draws back up to you, his brows furrowed together, trying to make sure that you weren’t just saying that for his sake, but you nod again, “I’m ready.” 

And god, he feels like he’s finally seen the light as he pulls out of you, nearly all of his dick from your snug cunt, your juices shining in the light, and he pushes himself back in, groaning out from deep inside his chest as you clench around him. 

He does it again, and again, and again, and before you know it he’s slamming his hips into yours. 

“Shit,” he moans, his voice deeper and lower in pitch, “F-fuck, you’re so tight, you have’ta,” he lets out whine when you clench around him, “You have to relax, please sweetheart, you’re killing me.”

His hands are leaving bruises on your hips from how hard he’s holding onto you, your moans mixing with his as your ankles dig deep into his back, your back arching so much that your tits were pressed up against his chest, gleaming with sweat. 

“Mhh, ‘Toru, oh my g-god,” you can’t even recognize your own voice, “S-so good, s’big ‘Toru,”

You watch as he drops a hand in between your two bodies, his fingers rubbing at your clit as your mouth opens in a silent scream, sweat dotting at your forehead as you bit your lip to keep in your debaucherous moans. 

He bites down on your shoulder, leaving yet another mark, his nose inhaling at the last remnants of your perfume, making sure he’d never forget a single thing about tonight. 

His fingers along with his dick are driving you to ruin, and you feel that same coil coming back, being pulled taunt deep within you far quicker than the first time. He’s relentless against your clit, kissing your tits gently as you cry out. 

“Shit, I…” you can barely breathe, his own groans and moans filling up the room, “I can’t, I feel like…!” 

“I know, I know,” he says, knowing what you’re meaning, what you’re feeling, because he’s not too far from his own release either, “Come on, let go, I’ve got you,” he muttered against your glistening skin, edging you on even more.

Your fingers tangle in his white strands once again, pulling him closer to you as your lips lock with his, the kiss messy and not even coherent but you don’t care because as his tongue mingles with yours, his hips never stopping and his fingers picking up pace, you moan out loud, lewd and wanting into his mouth as you come. 

This time is even more intense than the last time, and you can’t stop clenching around him, your cum coating his dick, making it even more wet as you spasm around him, your eyes seeing stars, feeling a loud thumping in your head and chest. 

It doesn’t help that he doesn’t stop either, your orgasm lasting even longer as he chases his own high, his head thrown back in an instant as he pulls out to finish on you, white spurts coating your heaving chest, painting you like his own portrait. 

“Fuck,” he sighs out, his white lashes fluttering against his cheeks as he looks at you, underneath him, covered in his cum, and feels something primal surge in his chest at the sight, like you’re his god and he’s finally in heaven.

Even after he pulls out you feel yourself pulsing around nothing, already missing him as you whine absentmindedly at the loss.

When you finally calm down, you crack your eyes open to see him sitting on his haunches, pushing back his sweat soaked hair away from his face as he shoots you own of his wide grins, your own face breaking into a smile as you throw and arm across face. 

You feel the bed dip, and peek out to see him walking away. 

“Where…?” You croak out, your voice hoarse, and he throws you a wink from over his shoulders, finding a clean towel in your little bin that you keep at the end of the room for when you and the rest of the girls need to shower.

He brings it over to you, grabbing his wand, casting a small aguamenti charm on it, only to get it slightly wet, as he comes back to where you were lying. 

You silently watch as he gingerly drags it across your body, cleaning you up between your legs, wincing at the way you inhaled sharply, still feeling raw, and kissing your stomach in an apologetic manner. He then dragged it across your chest, making sure he got everything, throwing the towel in the dirty bin as he climbed up to bed with you. 

“Thirsty?” He asks, and you nod meekly, graciously accepting the cup that he fills with the pitcher near your bed stand, gulping it all down as some of the water droplets fall on your chest, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you set it to the side, falling back in your bed 

The bed isn’t really meant for two people, especially one with his size, so you have to cuddle close together, but you don’t mind the way he pulls you closer to his chest, pulling the blanket above so that it rests on your naked body. 

“Good?” He asks simply, and you nod again, craning your neck to look up at him as you smile gleefully. 

“Good.” 

—

That morning, you were the first to wake. 

You blink slowly, sitting up, wiping at your eyes as your mouth opens in a loud yawn. 

You look over to Gojo next to you, his hands still strewn across your waist, his lips parting slightly as he sleeps gently. 

You don’t want to wake him up, not used to seeing him so at ease, but you remember that it’s Christmas morning, falling back down to your mattress as your fingers tap on his bicep, watching as he cracks one blue eye open. 

“Hmm?” He hums tiredly, annoyed that you had moved away from him, pulling you back to the furnace that was his chest. 

“You promised you’d wake up,” you say with a whine, giggling when his eyes snap open, never wanting to break a promise he makes to you, sitting up suddenly as he looks around the empty room. 

“I’m kidding,” you tease, “I don’t usually get much, come back to sleep.” 

Gojo yawns, rubbing his hands across his face, and gives you a knowing look. Your brows furrow together in confusion, tilting your head to the side. 

“What?” You ask, sitting up next to him as his thumb traces against your knuckles. 

“Nothing,” he kisses your forehead, your nose, your cheeks and then finally your lips, “It’s just that I think that the majority of presents under that tree are for you,” Gojo says with a grin, watching with a smile as your face breaks into the cutest grin, your eyes bright as you tug on his fingers. 

“Really?” you’re already getting out of bed, the smile on your face never ending as you tug on your jeans from the floor, “Really?” 

“Really,” he says, handing you your sweater as you pull that on mindlessly, your movements fast and hurried, excited for Christmas morning for the first time since you were a kid. 

“Oh, and,” he holds onto your wrist, stopping you momentarily as you try to pull on a sock over your feet, “I have something I wanted to give you…in private.” 

Your eyes squint together, trying to see if he was going to say a dirty joke or if he was actually serious. 

When he releases your wrist, he unfolds your hands, taking your ring finger as he slides a ring across it, something that he must’ve had hidden in his hand for a good second because you never saw him get anything. 

“What…?” You turn your hand around, only to see his gold ring, embellished with his family crest, shining back at you. 

“‘Toru, I…” You were shaking your head, going to take it off, but he stops you, his blue eyes shimmering a light sky color, creasing upwards as he gives you one of the smiles that he only reserves for you. 

“It’s yours,” he says, closing your fingers into a fist as he brings it up to his lips, kissing it softly, “And besides, it’s just a placeholder.” 

You let out a disbelieving chuckle, looking at the ring once again as you glance up at him. 

“Placeholder for what?” 

Gojo gives you another knowing look, as if you should know the answer to this question. 

“You’ll see,” he promises, and you laugh, helping him put on his own clothes, messing with his hair, pushing it back so that it wouldn’t be so messy. 

“You want to be my husband?” You say teasingly, walking to the door as you cast him a glance, “Because you should know that I need to get a stable job and house and everything before I even think of marrying. Are you sure you’ll want to wait that long? After all that time?” 

He pulls you in for a hug, kissing the crown of your head. 

“Even after all that time,” he murmurs against your hair, “Always.”

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