#zero/receptionist | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pseudowho · 10 months ago

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Yuuji's hand hovered over the receiver, paralysed. His universe zeroed in on the little plastic bubble around him, and the payphone, with the chatter, ringing, beeping and bustling of the Police Station behind him. The cuffs chafed on his wrist. He thought and thought, reaching for the receiver again, before freezing.

The police officer behind Yuuji tapped his foot. "Get on with it, kid." Yuuji shrunk in on himself, smaller than ever.

"Uhh...I'm really sorry. I don't think I'm ready for my first call yet. Can I have a bit longer?"

A huff from the officer. Yuuji's wrists clanked as he was grabbed by the upper arm, a heavy clang as he was pressed back into the cell, locked in. There was a drunk on the perpendicular bench. Some big guy with a kill you stare, the other side.

Yuuji tried not to cry as he hunched down towards his knees.

He had never felt so orphaned, as he did in this moment.

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Kento hummed to himself, outwardly upbeat, and happy to be so in the absence of observers. He grabbed his travel mug from the desk; his paperwork was completed. He was advised he wouldn't be needed for the rest of the day, so why don't you just head off early? We'll just call you if we need you.

Words like syrup. Kento's metaphorical sweet shop. He lapped it up. He dropped you a text; home soon. I'll make dinner.

Making himself a fresh coffee, Kento felt his pocket buzzing. His humming stopped at the Unknown Number on screen, eyebrows pinching together. He answered, stirring his coffee.

"Nanami Kento speaking."

Initial silence. An awkward rustle. Kento waited.

"...Nanamin. I'm sorry, I...I didn't know who else to call. I'm in trouble." Kento turned his back on his coffee, pacing in front of his desk, a prickle of fear up his spine.

"Itadori-kun. Where are you?"

"I'm...I'm downtown. I was arrested. I was only trying to help--"

"I'll be right there. Don't say anything. You're safe. I'll be straight there."

Kento put the phone down, concern clipping his movements. He looked down at his phone, thinking. He tapped out two more text messages, grabbed his travel mug, and headed out to his car in long, purposeful strides.

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By the time Kento arrived, guided into the station by a receptionist, he scowled to see Yuuji being interrogated at a desk by an officer.

"I swear, I was just checkin' the place out, just--just bein' stupid, I didn't mean--"

"--didn't think the "No Entry" signs were for you, huh? What was the plan, go in and wreck the place? Damn kids--"

"Excuse me for interrupting. I don't believe you're supposed to be interviewing minors without a chaperone."

The police officer stopped, bristling as he looked up at Kento, looming down over him. Kento silenced Yuuji with a heavy hand on the shoulder. A travel mug of hot coffee was gently pressed into Yuuji's hands.

"Don't answer him, Yuuji. We're waiting for your lawyer."

Yuuji looked so small and tired, folded over on himself, that Kento felt a prickle of cold rage frost through him at Yuuji's treatment.

Kento's eyes flicked across the desk. He noted paperwork, with Yuuji's name. He noticed the 'Next of Kin' section...empty. Kento's stomach clenched, and his grip on Yuuji's shoulder tightened almost imperceptibly. The police officer shivered under a chilly gaze.

"Nanamin...I'm sorry--"

"I'm sure you have nothing to be sorry for. This man, however--" the officer's blood ran cold when Kento's eyes swung to him again, "--should know better than to bully a child."

A rustle and a clatter sounded behind Kento and Yuuji. Yuuji heard a deep voice, apologising for knocking something off a desk, before another hand landed on his other shoulder. Yuuji gaped up.

"...Higuruma?" Hiromi glanced down, coal-soft eyes belying a little smile. The police officer sputtered into his coffee, looking frantically between the two men, now.

"Higuruma? Shit. I don't get paid enough for this."

"I assume you're charging my client with something." Hiromi sat, crossing his legs, hands clasped on his lap.

"He broke into an abandoned hospital--"

"Was it locked?"

"...ahhh..."

"Did he cause any damage?" Total silence. Hiromi cleared his throat.

"Did my client come with you willingly?" The police officer's face twisted, bitter and snide.

Hiromi blinked once, slowly. "I see. So, simple trespass really? With a minor, first offence? A caution at most, really, isn't it."

Yuuji looked over to Kento, who was busy scribbling something on Yuuji's paperwork, while Hiromi ground the police officer into the dirt on the other side of him.

"I assume you felt something inside the hospital. You weren't investigating just for fun?" A stern gaze through tinted lens.

"No, I...I think there's a Curse in there. Didn't get to it before I ran into the cops."

A hum. "Ah. I'll get Ijichi onto it." Yuuji nodded, his eyes prickling with tears. Kento's hand tightened on his shoulder, grounding him, a flood of warmth down through his body.

"How long were you here for? Before you decided to call me."

"Uh...four or five hours." A pregnant pause from Kento. A sigh, Kento's voice softening.

"You can always call me, Yuuji." Kento stood, straightening his cuffs. "You'll come home with me for dinner. You're hungry." Yuuji's belly rumbled in response. Kento's lips almost quirked at Yuuji's sunny grin, reminded of another boy he once knew.

In due time, Yuuji was released with a caution. Hiromi clapped him on the shoulder with a lopsided smile, giving Yuuji's jaw a pat, before leaving for home. Yuuji stood, glancing at his paperwork on the desk.

In the previously empty "Next of Kin" section, in neat block capitals, with a phone number and address, was listed: NANAMI KENTO.

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cei1ne · 15 days ago

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—MHA men reactions to you accidentally calling them ‘husband’

°˚°◦☙Summary: How the Bakusquad reacts to you calling them ‘husband’ by accident and catching them and yourself off guard!

༓･*˚⁺‧͙:Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader ; Kirishima Eijirou x f!reader ; Denki Kaminari x f!reader ; Sero Hanta x f!reader

♡.•♬✧⁽⁽Tags: Fluff ; Cute ; Slip up ; Time skip; MHA ; Dating ; In love

+:•*∴Word-count: 5k

•*:｡✩A/N: Hey guys I actually thought that I would be so active in the holidays but… here we are. Well whatever lately I haven’t been able to stay up past 1am so I forced myself to stay awake to create this. Maybe I’ll make next part who knows! Love you!

Bakugou Katsuki

The sun had already started its descent, painting the city skyline in shades of gold and pink as you made your way to the Ground Zero Hero Agency. The streets bustled with chatter and traffic, but your focus stayed locked on the bag of katsudon in your hand. You knew how Bakugou got when he was overworked — sharp, irritable, and always forgetting to eat. You had half a mind to scold him, but you knew better than to lecture Katsuki Bakugou. The man was stubborn, a walking explosion with the softest, rarest underbelly you’d ever seen.

His receptionist, Mina, flashed you a grin when you walked in. “Brave soul, coming in during one of those days.”

You gave a breathless laugh, shifting the bag in your grip. “He’s not that bad.”

“Mm-hmm. You keep telling yourself that, Mrs. Ground Zero,” she teased.

Your face burned. You waved her off and made your way down the hall.

You barely knocked once before nudging the door open. His office smelled like smoke and worn leather. The curtains were half-drawn, letting streaks of dusky light spill across the room. Papers were scattered on his desk, his gauntlets tossed haphazardly onto a shelf. And there he was — hunched over his laptop, brows furrowed, eyes locked onto whatever report had his attention.

You couldn’t help but soften. The world knew Ground Zero, the relentless, ruthless hero who decimated villains and barked orders like cannon fire. But you? You knew Katsuki. The man who stubbornly refused to admit he liked when you held his hand. Who complained about vegetables but always stole bites from your plate. Who grumbled and scowled but looked at you like you hung the stars every time he thought you weren’t looking.

“Oi,” he grunted, not looking up. “What’re you doin’ here?”

You set the bag down on his desk, letting the smell drift between you. “Lunch delivery, husband.”

Silence.

It was immediate, electric — the way the room seemed to still.

Your stomach dropped, realizing what you’d just said.

Oh my god.

Oh no.

Abort. ABORT.

Bakugou’s gaze finally lifted. Red eyes wide, mouth slightly open like he was trying to process if you really said what he thought you did.

“…The hell did you just call me?”

His voice was low, rough around the edges. But not angry — no, if anything, there was a spark of something teasing, something dangerous in his expression. His ears betrayed him though, already flushed a deep crimson.

“I—uh—I meant—Katsuki. I meant Katsuki.” You wanted to crawl under the desk.

He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, lips pulling into a cocky smirk. “Nah. Don’t walk that back. You called me husband.”

“I-it was an accident!”

“Was it?” His tone dipped, voice softer but no less intense.

Your face burned. “I mean — not that I wouldn’t… it’s not like I… it’s just — shut up and eat your damn katsudon.”

You shoved the bag toward him, avoiding his gaze. He laughed — a rare, genuine sound that made your chest ache.

“Damn, you’re cute when you’re flustered.”

He grabbed the container, peeling it open with a grin still tugging at his lips. He took a bite, eyes fluttering shut for a second in appreciation. You loved how his roughness softened just a little in moments like this.

“I ain’t mad, y’know,” he murmured, mouth half-full. “Kinda liked it.”

You dared to glance at him. “Yeah?”

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Yeah. Call me that again sometime.”

Your heart tripped over itself, the tension in the room now a warm, hazy thing.

“Maybe I will,” you said softly.

He tugged you down, pulling you into a quick, rough kiss that stole your breath. It wasn’t a question, it wasn’t shy — it was Katsuki through and through.

When he pulled back, his voice was gruff. “Better get used to it, babe. Gonna make it official one day.”

Your face split into a grin. Yeah… maybe you could get used to it too.

Eijirou Kirishima

The Hero Gala was in full swing by the time you arrived. Glittering lights reflected off the towering glass windows of the event hall, a string quartet playing soft, elegant music in the background. Everywhere you looked, there were famous pro heroes in tailored suits and glamorous dresses, mingling with politicians, sponsors, and media figures.

But you weren’t here for them.

You were here for one hero in particular.

“Eijiro!” you called softly, weaving your way through the crowd.

And there he was.

Pro Hero Red Riot — standing near a decorative fountain, bright red hair slicked back just enough to keep its wild shape. He looked painfully good in a deep crimson suit that hugged his broad shoulders and made his sharp grin stand out even more. A couple of other heroes were chatting with him, laughing at something he’d just said.

When his eyes met yours, his whole face lit up like a sunrise.

“Babe!” he beamed, waving you over eagerly like a puppy who just spotted his favorite person. He immediately excused himself and met you halfway, arms outstretched.

You fell right into his embrace, feeling all the tension of the stuffy event ease away. “You look so good, Eiji,” you murmured, pulling back to admire him properly

He chuckled, his cheeks already dusted pink. “You clean up pretty damn amazing yourself. I’ve been lookin’ for you all night.”

You gave a soft laugh, standing on your toes to fix his slightly crooked tie. “Can’t have my husband looking messy in front of all these cameras.”

It took a full second for the words to register.

Your fingers stilled against his chest.

His crimson eyes widened — not in shock, not in embarrassment, but in pure, unfiltered joy. Like you’d just handed him the world.

“Wait… wh-what did you just call me?” His voice cracked a little, disbelieving and giddy.

You could feel your heart pounding in your ears. “I… I meant boyfriend. I meant boyfriend. I swear. I—”

But before you could spiral, his face broke into the widest grin you’d ever seen.

“No, no, no — you called me husband. Aw man, that’s… that’s awesome.”

You blinked. “You… you’re not weirded out?”

“Are you kidding?!” He grabbed both of your hands, eyes sparkling like a kid at a candy shop. “Babe, I — I mean, it’s not like I haven’t thought about it. Kinda… a lot, actually.”

Your heart squeezed.

He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly bashful. “I’ve… y’know, imagined it. Us, married. A cool little place together. Maybe a dog. You wearin’ my last name. Stuff like that.”

You could barely breathe. “Eijiro…”

“I just didn’t wanna freak you out by bringing it up,” he laughed sheepishly. “But hearing you call me that — man, that makes me so damn happy.”

The ballroom seemed to melt away. All you could see was him — his bright grin, flushed cheeks, those big, strong hands gently holding yours like you were something precious.

You gave a shy smile. “Well… I guess it kinda suits you.”

“Yeah?” He grinned wider. “Guess you’ll have to get used to it then. ‘Cause if you’ll let me, I’d love to make it official someday.”

You reached up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing the rough stubble starting to form there. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

He leaned into your touch. “You love it.”

“I do,” you whispered.

Then, right there in the middle of the crowded ballroom, with cameras flashing and people all around, he dipped down and kissed you — warm, firm, and steady, like he was anchoring himself to you.

And honestly? You didn’t need a marriage certificate to know you belonged to him already.

Denki Kaminari

It had started as a quiet night in.

You and Denki had this tradition — one night a week, no hero business, no agency calls, no saving the world. Just the two of you, junk food, video games, and whatever movie you randomly picked together. Tonight was no different.

Your shared apartment still smelled like popcorn and pizza. The lights were low, a soft glow coming from the TV screen and the neon sign he insisted on hanging up in the living room that said “Shockingly Good Vibes.”

Denki was sitting on the floor in front of the couch, leaning back against your legs, a controller in hand, brow furrowed in fierce concentration.

“No way — no way, no way, NO WAY!” he shouted, mashing the buttons like his life depended on it.

You laughed, tossing a pillow at him. “Denki, it’s just a game.”

“Just a game? Babe, we are one level away from beating this, and if we win, you owe me ice cream.”

“You already ate half a tub of it earlier,” you teased, nudging him with your foot.

“Doesn’t count,” he grinned without looking back. “Electric boys need fuel.”

The match ended with a dramatic win on your side. You threw your hands up with a triumphant cheer. “Ha! Take that, husband!”

The words slipped out before you even realized it.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Denki’s hands dropped the controller, his head whipping around so fast you thought he might pull something. His golden eyes were huge, his mouth forming a little “o” of pure shock.

“Wait… wait, wait, wait — did you just call me… husband?”

You blinked, panicked. “I — no, I mean, not like— okay maybe I— it just— it was a slip, I swear—”

He practically beamed, practically vibrating in place. “No way, that’s… that’s so freaking cute.”

Your face felt hot. “I-I didn’t mean—”

“I mean, I wouldn’t mind,” he cut you off, scrambling to turn around on his knees to face you, his grin impossibly bright. “If that’s, like… where this is going. One day. Maybe.”

You stared at him, your pulse pounding, warmth spreading all the way to your fingertips.

Denki gave a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, it’s not like I haven’t thought about it, y’know? Us. Married. You being all adorable, stealin’ my hoodies, makin’ fun of my hair in the mornings. Me zapping the toaster by accident and you pretending to be mad but secretly thinking it’s hilarious.”

Your heart squeezed so tight it hurt.

“I just…” He shrugged, a little shy now, his voice softer. “I really, really love you. And… you accidentally callin’ me that? Kinda made my whole night.”

You felt yourself smiling — big, stupid, helpless.

“I love you too, Denks,” you whispered, reaching out to brush his wild blond bangs out of his face. “And maybe I’m not so mad about the idea either.

He grinned, leaning into your hand. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

In a blink, he tackled you back onto the couch, showering your face with playful kisses, making you laugh breathlessly.

“Gonna make you say it for real someday,” he grinned against your skin, “and when you do — oh man — you’re never gonna hear the end of it.”

You laughed, wrapping your arms around him, holding him close. “I’ll look forward to it, husband.”

“Ohhh shiiit!” he howled, dramatically clutching his heart. “Marry me now.”

You both burst into laughter, the world outside forgotten, wrapped up in the glow of neon lights and the warmth of what might just be forever.

Sero Hanta

The two of you had always been a little… unconventional.

Late-night food runs, rooftop hangouts after patrol, movie marathons that turned into ridiculous bets. You loved how easy it was to be around Hanta. He was chill, funny, and the kind of guy who could make even the most stressful day feel light.

Tonight was one of those nights.

You’d both gotten off patrol around midnight, grabbed takeout from a sketchy late-night place you probably shouldn’t trust, and ended up sprawled out on the living room floor of his apartment, eating noodles straight from the carton.

“I swear to god, if I have to deal with one more petty shoplifter pulling the ‘I didn’t know stealing was illegal’ routine, I’m gonna lose it,” you groaned, flopping onto your back.

Sero laughed around a mouthful of noodles. “C’mon babe, you gotta admire the creativity sometimes. Last week, I caught a guy trying to stuff a whole watermelon down his pants.”

You burst out laughing. “Okay, okay — I’ll give him points for effort.”

He grinned, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Hey, speaking of effort, check this out.”

He reached for his phone and started showing you memes — the dumbest, weirdest, most chaotic pro hero memes you’d ever seen. You snorted so hard you nearly choked on your drink.

“Okay, okay, you win this round, husband,” you laughed, nudging him with your foot.

You didn’t realize what you’d said until the room went totally still.

You felt his gaze snap up to meet yours, a teasing smirk already playing on his lips.

“Oh?” he grinned. “Husband, huh?”

You groaned, covering your face. “Oh my god — no — no no no — I didn’t mean to say that.”

He set his carton down, crawling over so he was leaning over you, his grin wide and downright smug. “You sure? ‘Cause honestly… kinda liked the sound of it.”

Your face burned. “It was a slip, Sero.”

He chuckled, tapping a finger against your nose. “Yeah, but like… not the worst one you could’ve made, y’know? In fact… might even be my favorite.”

You peeked up at him, heart pounding. “You’re not weirded out?”

“Why would I be?” He shrugged, settling down beside you. “I mean, not like I haven’t thought about it. Me, you, weird late-night noodle dates forever. Waking up next to you, pulling dumb pranks, maybe a house with a killer rooftop view.”

You bit your lip, smiling. “That’s a pretty specific picture.”

He smiled back, and for a second — just a second — all the teasing faded from his face, replaced by something softer, more honest.

“I’m serious, babe. I’m in this for the long haul.”

Your heart gave a traitorous flutter.

“I… I kinda like the sound of that too,” you admitted.

“Yeah?” he grinned, scooting closer. “Guess you’ll have to start practicing. Say it again.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “Not happening, tape boy.”

“Aww, c’mon — for your favorite husband?”

You swatted at him, but he caught your hand, pressing a quick, feather-light kiss to your knuckles.

“One day,” he murmured. “When you’re ready.”

The teasing was still there, but underneath it… something real.

And honestly?

You could definitely see forever with this idiot.

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tikitakatia · 1 month ago

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Swapsies — A.Putellas x Reader

WC: 0.9k

Summary: It was supposed to be a quiet night just watching netflix. Now you're late, Alexia's wearing toothpaste, and someone definitely packed the wrong lunch.

You wake up in a panic.

The kind of panic that comes from realizing you and Alexia were definitely not watching Netflix until 2am like you promised yourselves. No. There were zero shows. Just a lot of kissing. A little dancing in the kitchen. And then… Well, let’s just say the couch is never going to look at you two the same way again.

Now the sun is way too high in the sky, and both of you are tangled in sheets, limbs, and disaster.

“Mierda,” Alexia mumbles, hair a complete mess from how many times your hands had been in it last night: angled, tousled, and very much the result of non-sleep-related activities. “I have that meeting at the foundation.”

“And I’m late for my first day at the new school,” you groan, pulling on pants backwards and realizing only after you’ve buttoned them.

Chaos becomes teamwork. You pass her a hoodie while brushing your teeth. She hands you a banana with her mouth still full of toothpaste. Somehow, two lunch boxes make it into two bags and kisses are exchanged like a panicked currency.

“I love you!”

“Don’t die!”

And you both vanish into the day.

You’re halfway through your substitute teaching gig, taking a small food break when you realize: something’s wrong.

This isn’t your lunch.

You open the container expecting your sad, weird combo of a PB&J sandwich, half a granola bar, and the cookie you accidentally sat on last night during “couch activities.” Instead, you’re staring at a perfectly arranged, macro-balanced meal of grilled salmon, quinoa, avocado, and steamed broccoli. There’s even a tiny tupperware of tahini dressing.

You’ve made a terrible mistake.

Across town, Alexia is chewing on your sandwich like it personally offended her.

The granola bar crumbles in her hand. The cookie is fused to its wrapper in a way that feels disrespectful. By 11:30, she’s in a boardroom, smiling politely while her stomach growls loud enough to register on nearby seismographs. One of the interns glances under the table like a small animal might be loose.

Alexia excuses herself with the calmness of someone about to rob a bank.

The school receptionist doesn’t even question her. Just blinks twice as Alexia, hair in a bun, hoodie half-zipped, marches through the door like she owns the place.

She’s almost made it to the staff room when it happens.

“OH MY GOD.”

Three kids spot her first.

Then five more.

Then ten.

Suddenly, she’s swarmed.

“ALEXIA PUTELLAS?!”

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!”

“Are you a substitute now? Is it for P.E.?!”

“Can I touch your hair?!”

“Do you live in Messi’s old house?!”

Before she can say a single word, one kid is hugging her leg. Another is already climbing her back like she’s a jungle gym. A small girl with sparkly glasses hands her a crayon drawing of “Alexia and a lion fighting crime.” A boy in a Spider-Man T-shirt asks if her knees “make robot sounds when she runs.”

Someone gives her a juice box.

Someone else tries to trade her a Pokémon card for “one goal in a real match.”

She’s signing a notebook when a group drags her to the gym for an impromptu penalty shootout using a foam ball and a laundry basket as a goal.

“Play fair!” one girl yells. “You’re a world champion, not a cheater!”

Alexia raises her hands in surrender. “I’m just trying to eat!”

They don’t care. She’s theirs now.

By the time she finally finds you, she looks like she’s survived a toddler uprising. Her hoodie is covered in stickers. There’s glitter on her face. A “Be Kind” badge has been clipped to her chest, crooked.

You’re sitting in the cafeteria, already smirking, watching her approach. You know what’s coming. Alexia, with her signature determined look, angling straight for your lunch, ready to reclaim her stolen meal. She’s probably plotting her usual move to swipe it from right under your nose.

“Fancy seeing you here,” you say, leaning back in your seat with your arms crossed, making sure to place her lunch in front of you like a prized possession.

“They mobbed me,” she says, eyes wide. “I got tackled. Tackled. I played an entire match and didn’t get this bruised.”

You raise an eyebrow, trying to suppress a grin. “Did you win?”

She looks down at her foam ball trophy with marker scribbles and shrugs. “Barely.”

You chuckle. “You’re always so dramatic.”

She raises an eyebrow back, giving you a pointed look. “I’m not the one who stole food.”

You’re about to respond when she makes her move. She shifts toward your lunch, clearly intent on getting back the meal you “borrowed” from her. You brace the usual swift maneuver, but instead of snatching your food, she pulls out another lunchbox, a second one, and slides it in front of you with a grin.

“You’re not the only one who can play the food game,” she says. “I figured you might need something healthier today.”

You stare at the neatly packed lunch: grilled chicken, roasted veggies, quinoa, and hummus. A smile tugs at the corner of your mouth.

“You’re a sneaky one,” you say, shaking your head in amusement.

She smirks, sitting down next to you. “Just making sure you actually eat something that won’t leave you starving in an hour.”

You look at the meal in front of you and then back at her. “This is way too nice for me.”

“Yeah, well,” she shrugs, picking at her own lunch with a satisfied look, “you’ve earned it.”

You lean over, kiss her, glitter and all, because even after a chaotic morning, she’s found a way to take care of you.

And somehow, she still looks like she could score a hat trick right after.

#woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fic #alexia putellas x reader #woso community #woso soccer #woso fics #alexia putellas fluff #woso blurbs #alexia putellas #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas fic #alexia putellas fanfic #woso fanfics #fcbfemeni x reader #barcelona femeni

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grandline-fics · 5 months ago

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I'm so in love with your writing, I'd love to see the "one bed trope" from you! Maybe a little suggestive, as far as you're comfortable, of course.

DESCRIPTION: There was only one bed

WARNINGS: nothing too suggestive, more on the fluff side

CHARACTERS: Mihawk, Shanks

WORDS: 2,065

A/N: Thank you so much for this request. I didn't know which characters you wanted so used the most popular form the recent poll. I had intended to do Ace as well but only had the energy to get something done for Shanks and Mihawk. I love this trope so much that i'll probably do more parts in the future. I hope you're happy with what I came up with and I'm sorry I didn't make it suggestive.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

———————

MIHAWK

You were going to kill Crocodile. Not only did he order you to the tiniest island you’d seen in a long while, were the only thing in abundance seemed to be gloomy expressions but he also insisted you go to ‘keep an eye on' Mihawk. Since you considered Crocodile your main superior-a perspective you hadn't dropped since your Baroque Works days- you couldn't exactly refuse the assignment but it just made zero sense for you to be here. For starters Mihawk worked alone and efficiently enough that he didn’t require anyone to look out for him. Plus ‘observation’ wasn’t your usual role in Cross Guild. Normally Crocodile handed you a bounty list, told you to pick one and go get them.

This was just one big headache and to make matters worse after scouring the entire island a call came through from Crocodile saying the bounty had already been completed and just handed in. Now you really were going to kill your boss, but from the look on Mihawk’s face it seemed you would have to get in line. From the receiver, Crocodile’s laugh caught both of your attentions. “Look these things happen so stop pouting. Just make your way back to Cross Guild.”

Mihawk didn’t offer a response and ended the call, walking out of the alley you’d both stopped at to take the call. Silently you fell into step beside the former Warlord, walking the streets of the island for what felt like the hundredth time already. You let out a sigh of relief to see the inn come into view, now the only thing on your mind was trying to get a good night’s sleep and calm your annoyance at the whole situation. You couldn’t even muster a polite smile to the receptionist at the desk. “Two please.”

“Oh.” The receptionist glanced between you and Mihawk, her expression trained with years of experience to appear calm but you both saw the flicker of nervousness in her eyes for the smallest moment. “I’m sorry but we’re booked almost to capacity.”

“You’re joking.” You muttered. Why was everything going against you today? “You have nothing left?”

“W-well we’re a small island. Rooms go fast but we do have one room available.” You and Mihawk exchanged a look, both composed. Then the receptionist had to uselessly add. “Only one bed…” With a sigh you held out your hand for the key, knowing there wasn't much choice. Muttering thanks you glanced at the number of the keyring and headed for your room for the night. Stepping inside you found it lived up to your very low expectations but at least it was clean. Silently you eyed the bed you would have to share and looked to your stoic roommate. “So which side of the bed do you want?”

As expected Mihawk was mature and respectable about the whole thing. Calm as ever he chose his side-the one closest to the door- and settled in for the night. Mihawk’s ability to fall over to sleep at ease was enviable because in the dark you could hear his deep, even breaths as he slept facing away from you. As tired as you were and as comfortable as you normally did feel in Mihawk’s presence you just couldn’t fall asleep. While the bed you lay in wasn't the worst you’d ever had to sleep in, it wasn’t the comfiest and living at Cross Guild had practically spoiled you. You’d gotten so used to stretching out, something you couldn’t exactly do at this moment.

Deciding to just make do with your half of the bed and not disturb Mihawk, you rolled onto your side with the intention of getting comfortable. The only problem was you’d vastly overestimated the room you had to move and could only gasp as you felt the bed disappear from under you. In a split second as you braced to hit the ground, you were instead caught by a pair of hands. With ease you were pulled back onto the bed and you tensed to feel your back make contact with the warmth of Mhawk’s chest. “Sorry for waking you.”

“It’s fine, just sleep.” He told you while pulling one arm back to tuck his hand under his pillow. You tried not to react to how sleep brought Mihawk’s voice to a lower register that made it so much more attractive to you. You only nodded at his instruction and shifted slightly, already so much more comfortable than you had been all night. The only thing now was you noticed Mihawk still had one arm loosely draped over your body, not quite holding you but still enveloping you in his touch. “This is only to keep you from falling out of the bed again.”

“I didn’t say anything…” You mused, lips curving into a teasing smile that Mihawk could practically hear in the dark. “If you wanted to cuddle all you had to do was ask.”

“Don’t make me kick you out of this bed.” Mihawk warned in your ear, despite the threat you smirked to feel his arm over you tighten just a little.

“Relax, your secret is safe with me.” Ordinarily you would have teased him a little more but between the tiredness finally winning over you and the warmth of his body against yours being so comforting. For a moment Mihawk wondered if you were genuinely comfortable against him, ready to release you at the first sign of unease. Yet you surprised him when you yawned and lazily placed your hand over his arm and smile in satisfaction as your eyes slid closed, your breathing evening out as you fell asleep.

Mihawk had been taking his time to slowly get to know you and let you in little by little, but now watching you roll onto your other side and curl up against his chest he began to reconsider his actions. Perhaps a few more missions away from Cross Guild’s base wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all.

SHANKS

This type of situation should not be happening in this day and age. Not with your crew and Captain having the reputation and fame they had. Drawing names to see who was sharing rooms of all things reminded you of when the crew was only just forming and the coin to pay for individual rooms was a luxury. Some of the others on the crew shared your slight annoyance but you all knew that there wasn’t much you could do about it. The ship needed repairs after getting damaged in a ferocious storm with the sleeping quarters affected and unusable for now. You were all pirates after all and you supposed you needed to be reminded of that.

Still though you were secretly hoping you were one of the lucky ones who got their own room. You mentally cursed when Ben pulled out a slip of paper and read your name out. Resigned to your fate you grabbed your drink and took a plentiful mouthful as the vice-captain grabbed another piece of paper to announce your roommate for the night. As you wiped the stray remnant of the liquid from your lip you spotted the man pause and fight a laugh, disguising his amusement by rubbing the lower half of his face. “Captain Shanks.”

Your back went rigid and you ignored the burning stares of the rest of the crew as you instead turned your attention to the man in question. Even he seemed momentarily thrown by the announcement but he recovered swiftly as expected of the laidback man. His dark eyes met your gaze and he offered you a cheeky smile and a wink.

That night when all the drinking had been done you and Shanks stepped into your shared room. Without needed to consult on anything you both instinctively went to your preferred side of the bed to sleep on. You sat down and worked on kicking off your shoes and shrugging out of your coat to at least be a little comfier. You looked over your shoulder when Shanks lightly cleared his throat as he pulled back the cover to settle down on the mattress. “Problem Cap?”

“Not really.” Shanks mused with a sly smile. “I usually sleep naked is all.”

“Poor baby, I’m sure you can be brave and at least keep your trousers on for one night.” You teased, used to your Captain’s antics and knowing he was only making jokes to ease the slight tension at having to share like this. With a tired groan you settled down on your side of the bed as Shanks flicked off the light, bringing the room fully into darkness. “If not the barmaid should still be about to help you.”

“And downgrade my sleeping partner? I’d rather lose another limb.” Shanks told you dramatically, offended you’d suggest such a thing. You let out a huff of amusement and rolled your eyes as you stared tiredly at the ceiling, letting yourself grow more comfortable against the mattress. “I lost count how many of the crew wanted me to swap with them…”

“Uh-huh.“ You mused with a lazy smile before breaking out into a long yawn, sleep coming over you quickly now. “Well aren’t you lucky? Now go to sleep, ‘kay?”

“Can I at least get a good night kiss?” Shanks teased lightly, playfully tapping your nose and grinning in the darkened room to see your tired face scrunch up slightly. He’d said it as a joke, something for you to barely register in your mind as you drifted off to sleep. What he hadn’t expected though was you to roll onto your side and push yourself up with a low hum of sleepiness, not even bothering to open your eyes fully.

He watched silently, completely overcome with curiosity as your hand reached out to skim your fingers against his face, searching for him in the dark. Your hand settled against his cheek and slowly you drew closer. With half-lidded eyes Shanks couldn’t take his gaze off of your slightly parted lips.

“Shanks…” your voice was barely a breathy whisper but it was clear as a bell to Shanks, his attention raptly on you and only you. Quickly you pulled back just enough and opened your eyes to smirk slightly to see Shanks had leant in slightly to chase your lips he had been quietly eager to taste.

“You’re killing me here, love.” Shanks protested with a small pout, his hand dropping to the small of your back, fingers flexing slightly a gesture, to request you close the distance. He wasn’t forcing you, you had all the power here. You tilted your head and smiled at the sudden pet-name. You couldn’t deny the temptation to give in to your own idle curiosities about your handsome Captain. Given how you were sharing a bed and he'd requested a kiss you would have been foolish to throw away the opportunity you had. Still you had to at least get a little bit more fun out of it by keeping Shanks in momentary suspense.

Finally you relented and kissed Shanks, your lips moving languidly against his; it being no surprise to you the he was already returning the action with no hesitancy. There was no fight for dominance in the kiss you shared but you could feel the power and command of Shanks’ presence over you but he left the pace, duration, and intensity entirely up to you. As much as you wanted to take it further, to push your curiosity and attraction towards the man against you for your own satisfaction you had to pull away reluctantly, knowing you wouldn’t have been able to enjoy what would follow fully with how tired you were. “Satisfied with your good night kiss, Captain?”

“You have no idea.” Shanks grinned pressing a quick kiss against your head as you settled down on the bed again. “I can now sleep peacefully and dream the sweetest dreams.”

“Good.” You grinned sleepily, opening your eyes just enough to fix him a playful smile. “I expect a good morning kiss in return by the way.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal, love.” Shanks grinned at you, already counting down the hours until he got to feel his lips against yours again but for now he would enjoy the time he had to sleep beside you.

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