#marco fluff

 You slot yourself between two of the newbies. The men looked at you for a moment but turned their attention back to each other. Your plush thigh accidentally brushed up against the man on your right, he snarled before rolling his eyes. Typical. You know these men dream of hot mermaids or drop dead gorgeous women in general. Everything you are not. If you were, the men around you would be pouring your drinks and flirting you up. But you notice the look in their eyes, it calls out “She is undesirable.” And you feel the rejection burrowing deep within your chest. You try to shake your thoughts, tonight is supposed to be fun right? You attempt to jump into a few conversations but we’re dismissed. Not giving up you turned to the man on your left who slammed his mug against the oak table.

 “Man, I have drunk so much I feel like I’m going to die.” He let out a burp and wiped the foam from his mouth. “Too bad if I do. I’ll die without knowing the warm touch of a woman.” An idea popped into your head. You slowly reached out and touched the man's shoulder. The table went quiet as all eyes turned to you.

 “There you go. I hope it was everything you ever dreamed of.” You let out a laugh and gave him a playful smack on the back. The man snickered and his eyes caught yours. 

 “Let me add to my previous statement. I want the touch of a beautiful woman. Am I right, fellas?” Your eyes widened,  the men around you started laughing and banging their hands against the table. Your eyes go to your lap. You look at your stomach, how it sticks out. The same stomach you’ve held a knife up to. Wishing you could cut the fat off. Then your eyes travel to your plush thighs. You realize that even you are disgusted by your flawed body. Ugly. Fat. Undesirable. Freak. These words repeat  like a mantra in your head. The laughter died down and eyes fell on you yet again. You needed to say something. 

 “Yeah.” You could only mutter one word. You followed it with a laugh that seemed to satisfy them. Their conversations switched to different things as you sat mortified. You could feel the building pressure in your face. You wanted to cry, you wanted to scream. Every fiber in your body said to get up and go hide in your self loathing.  

 “Thatch where are you going?” You turn around and see the cook walking towards the kitchen.

 “Someone has to wash the dishes.” Thatch stretched his arms out dramatically. “It’s going to be a tough job.” 

 “Commander Thatch let me do the dishes!” Your voice was shaky, but hopefully he didn’t notice. 

 “Are you sure? You just got here Y/N, you haven't even eaten yet.” He quirked a brow at you. 

 “I’m sure. Plus I do a better job than you.” You throw some playful banter to throw him off your trail.

 “Okay then.” He returned to the table he was sitting at. Ace, Marco, and pops were also resting there. 

 Without another word you make a beeline to the kitchen. Tears pooled in your eyes, causing them to blur. Once you got to the safety of the kitchen and made sure you were alone, you came undone. The sobs that left your mouth echoed in the kitchen. You wonder what it is like to be thin and beautiful, to have that power that could make a man turn his head. You wish you were small, you wish you were cute. But you are big.  You wish you were a delicate flower in the wind, one who could be easily picked up by a man. But you were a rock that had sunk deep within the ocean. A rock no one wanted or sought after. You are worthless. You were drowning in your mind  with an anchor tied around your foot. No one could save you, or so you thought. 

 Marco The Phoenix 

  “NO PLEASE COMMANDER!” A man screams out, pulling you from your thoughts. The blood curdling scream came from the deck. You could not help but be curious, so you peek out of the kitchen door. There was a group of men standing in a circle cheering on someone. Hoping to get a better view you walk out towards the railing. A burst of azure fire shoots into the dark sky. Looking down in the middle of the circle you see Marco in his half phoenix form. He had a skull crushing talon gripped around a man's head. You notice the clothes on the man, the realization hits you like lighting. It was the man from the table.

 “How dare you.” Marco’s voice booms. You have never seen him this angry before, he was always so calm and collected. Seeing him like this was scary to say the least.  “You wanna know something newbie? I can hurt you just as much as I can heal you.” You see blood trickling down the side of the man's head. His body was thrashing around, begging for Marco to let him go. 

 “Marco, I think that's enough. You’ve beat a lifetime of fear into him.” Thatch tried to reason with the Doctor, but it was no good. You wonder what could have got Marco this riled up?

 “Shut it Thatch. I’m only done with him when I say so. I ought to throw your pathetic ass overboard for saying what you said about Y/N-yoi.” Marco removed his Talon only to wrap it around the man's throat. “Now listen up, prick. Y/N may not be beautiful in your worthless eyes, but to me she is the most beautiful woman that ever walked the earth.” That statement made your heart flutter. 

 “Commander, I'm sorry. Please let me go.” The man pawed at the talon. Marco smirked down at him in triumph. He slowly released the talon, causing the man to gasp out for air.

 “So now that we cleared that up.” Marco grabbed the collar of his shirt and brought him close to his face. “I’m not going to kill you so consider it your lucky day. But I recall Y/N went to go do dishes. So you're gonna take her place, got it?” 

 “Yes Commander Marco.” The man got up and stumbled right back to the ground.

 “Good, now hurry before I change my mind.” Marco gave him one last death glance before he ran up the stairs, passing you in at a frantic speed as he busted the kitchen door open.  

 Your head turned back to the crowd below you. Marco was staring right at you with a gentle smile on his face. He must have known you were there the entire time.  Heat rose to your cheeks like a wildfire when your eyes met his. You'd be lying if you said you didn't have a crush on him. But you never acted on it, knowing it would end up in a rejection like they all have. Marco was gorgeous. Tall and strong, yet so gentle. Plus  a doctor of all things.  Why would he ever want someone like you? The negative thoughts seeped back into your mind. The smile that adorned Marco’s face turned to one of concern. Before you could turn and run away a flash of blue stopped you in your tracks. Marco’s blue wings of fire were spread in front of you before disappearing from his body.

 “Hey gorgeous, wanna go talk somewhere more private?” Marco motioned at the sea of eyes below you. The heat found its way back to your cheeks at the attention you were receiving. You nod shyly. Marco placed a hand on the middle of your back and led you to Moby's back deck. You cringe at his hand placement. It was ghosting over the fat you hated so much. You subconsciously pull away from his warm touch. Marco quirked a brow at you as you walked over to the railing. 

 “Marco, I really appreciate what you did and what you said. But you don’t have to lie to make me feel better.” Your nails digged into the wooden railing as tears of frustration rolled down your chubby cheeks. “It’s really cruel to give someone like me hope you know.” You bite your lip in hopes you don’t let out a sob.

 “Lie? Y/N everything I said was the truth.” Marco’s large hand grabbed your shoulder signaling for you to turn around but you couldn't face him. 

 “SHUT UP.” You were at your breaking point. “Marco you know just as well as I do. I am not attractive. And I’m definitely not someone who you should waste your time fighting for. I mean just look at me. I’m a monster. I’m big, I take up too much space. And I-” You turn to face him. You expect the look of disgust like you're used to seeing. But the eyes that look down on you show something different. They were filled with adoration and sadness. His hands grab the railing on both sides of your body, caging you between him and rails.

 “I am looking at you Y/N. But I don’t see a monster. All I see is the woman who I adore more than anything.” He reached his hand to cup your cheek, wiping away the tears in the process . You wanted to retract from his touch, but you craved the soothing feeling they gave. “ I know you don’t see what I see and I know you’ve been told things in the past that make you think what I’m telling you is a lie, but it is not. And if you’d let me, I’d like to prove to you everyday from here on out how much I truly love you. All of you.”

 For a moment you just stared at his face. Looking for signs of malicious intent, but there was none. His brown eyes were soft and twinkled with affection. You never thought a man would look at you like this in your lifetime. This was something you’d only experience in a book, but here you were on the back deck of the Moby sharing an intimate moment with the man you had fallen in love with. 

 “Can I kiss you?” You notice a tint of pink on his cheeks. You shake your head in approval. Marco brought a hand under your chin to tilt it up, his lips connected with yours in a soft, sweet first kiss. The caterpillars you never let grow in your stomach had turned into butterflies. This man really loved you. You are wanted. You are desired. You both pull away and take in much needed air. 

 “So I take that as a yes?” Marco’s face was fully flushed and you don’t think it’s from the lack of oxygen.

 “Of course it’s a yes.” Marco let out a relieved sigh. Your emotions were running wild, you could feel tears trying to start again. 

 “Hey now, no more tears, pretty girl. Even if they are happy ones. I don’t think my heart can handle it.” He brought his hand up to his heart dramatically causing you to laugh at his antics.

 “Okay fine. No more crying. I’d hate to kill the best and only doctor on the ship.” A new found confidence finds its way to you as you reach up and take his hand from his chest, lacing it with yours. His hand grips yours back giving you all the reassurance you need.  “We better hurry back to the party. Hopefully there is some food left for us.” Marco’s eyes widened. You and him both know food goes fast on the Moby. 

 “Oh crap you're right. Now that you mention it I’m starving.” You hear a grumble form in Marco’s stomach. 

 “I guess almost killing a guy and confessing to me has worked you up an appetite.” You laugh as you begin to walk with Marco hand in hand. 

 “It did. But I’d do it all over again. Both kicking that bums ass and confessing to you dear.” He brought your hand up and kissed your knuckles. The gesture makes your heart flutter. 

 The Moby was still lively even after the fight that took place. If anything it was more so. Marco led you to the table with Pops, Ace and Thatch. Pops let out his signature laugh as you and Marco sat down.

 “Son, you sure know how to put on a show.” Marco let out a weary chuckle at pops statement. 

 “Yeah, sorry for the ruckus pops. I just couldn't let that slide-yoi.” His arm reached around you and pulled your body so you were snug against him. “What kind of man would I be if I didn’t stand up for the woman I love.” The men at the table all smiled at Marco’s declaration. 

 “Look who grew some balls.” Thach stuck his tongue out causing Marco to kick him from underneath the table. “OUCH. Dammit Marco I was just joking. But in all seriousness I’m happy  for you both. Dare I say you make a cute couple.” The cook gave a sincere smile.

 “I think so too. Tho Y/N may be a little too good for you.” Again Marco kicked, this time it was Ace who fell victim. “Can’t pull that move on me bird brain.” 

 “Ace I swear I’ll throw you overboard. See how cocky you are then.” Marco stood up from the table and Ace followed . You reached for his purple jacket and pulled him back down to the table laughing your head off.

 “Less arguing, more eating and drinking.” Marco smiled down and gave your forehead a soft peck. 

 “Okay, but only because you're cute.” He sent you a wink that made your stomach do a backflip. “Ace I’ll put your ass whooping on hold for now. With that being said,  let’s dig in.” Marco pulled a huge plate of meat towards you and let you pick your piece out first like a true gentleman. 

 The rest of the night you spent in pure bliss. Not once did you think about your body or how much you disliked how you looked. You ate without any guilt. Your thigh was connected with Marco’s, but he welcomed it. Loving the feeling of your body so close to his. He was proud to call you his, as were you. 

Portgas D. Ace

 “Pull yourself together Y/N” You bring your hands up to your cheeks. “I did say I’d wash the dishes for Thatch.” You look at the massive pile and you regret it instantly, but it got you away from the table. 

 You walk over to the sink and turn the hot water on. You pour a hearty amount of dish soap into the flowing water and watch as the bubbles fill the sink. The smell of the lemon dish soap filled your nostrils. It was calming. The handle squeaked as you turned the faucet off. Rolling your sleeves up you got to work immediately. One after another you washed the dishes. Scrub, rinse, repeat, scrub, rinse repeat. You felt like you’ve spent an eternity washing the dishes, but you weren't even halfway through the pile. You let out a sigh as you rest your arms on the sink. Looking down in the water you met with your reflection. You’ve never been one to look in mirrors or anything reflective due to hating what looked back at you. But for whatever reason you were locked on water. 

 You understand why the man said what he said. How could anyone see beauty in this face in the water? You hated her. You hated you. Tears from your eyes and into the soap water below. 

 “Dammit.” Your hand clashed your reflection in the water out of frustration.   

 “Yeah Y/N, show those dishes whose boss!” You yelped in surprise at the voice. You whipped your head around to see the one and only Ace standing with a huge smile on his face. 

 “Ace, what are you doing here?” Your eyes met him for a moment before you looked away. You hoped he didn’t notice your tears.   

 “Hey, what's wrong?” You should have known better. Nothing gets past fire fist Ace.  He walked closer to you. “You didn’t get hurt did ya?” His eyes studied your body to see if there was any injury. 

 “No, I’m fine.” You turn back around and go back to doing dishes. Ace walked up beside you, grabbing the dish you had washed out of your hand.

 “Here, you wash and I’ll dry.” His wide smile sent a wave of comfort over you. 

 “Thank you.” The two of you worked in silence. You would occasionally glance over at him, watching his muscles flex as he dried the dishes. 

 “Like what ya see hmm?” Busted. Yours eyes shot away from the smirking man.

 “I umm,” Your words stutter as you lose the grip on the dish you were washing. It sank back into the soapy water.

 “I’m just teasing ya Y/N. Look all you want.” Ace bumped his hip into yours playfully. You swayed slightly before side eyeing him. Ace has always been a flirt. The attention he would give you made you feel good, but you know it was all just for fun. Ace could have any woman he wanted. You’ve seen the women that throw themselves at him. You could not compete. A man like Ace deserves a gorgeous woman by his side. Not a fat nobody like you. 

 “Hey Y/N what's on your mind. You sure look lost in thought over there.” Ace’s velvet voice pulled you from your bleak thinking.

 “Nothing.” You hand the next dish over to him.

 “Stop lying. You know you can tell me anything.” His hands reach over yours, grabbing some bubbles. You watched as he brought them up to his face. He slapped the bubble on and made what appeared to be a beard. “This is the beard of a trustworthy, sophisticated man.” He made his voice sound deeper than what it was. You couldn’t stop the laughter that erupted from you. Ace smiled happily. “It’s good to see a smile on that pretty face.” 

 “Haven’t you teased me enough tonight?” You roll your eyes and hand him the last dish.

 “Who said I was teas-” Ace cut himself off and started coughing. “Damn I got soap in my mouth, gross.” Ace flung his hat so it hung on his back. He held his tongue out and turned the water on. He stuck his head under the faucet, letting the water drown out the soap taste. You let out a snort at the sight. He turned the water off and brought his head up. Water droplets fell from his dark locks and rolled down his tone chest. “You think that’s funny huh? Well how about this?” Ace shook his head like a dog, making the water shake out and land on you.

 “Ace you jerk!” You step back and grab some bubbles from the sink to throw at him.

 “Ohh so that’s how you're gonna play. Well then, in that case.” Ace grabbed a huge pile of bubbles and threw them at you. “Take this, BUBBLE FIST.” Ace threw the bubble only for them to float gracefully to the floor.

 “That was so lame.” You stuck your tongue out at the pouting man.

 “Yeah, I’ll admit it was very lame.” He scratched the back of his head as a blush found its way to his freckled cheeks. “Well that’s enough fun for now. Now will you please tell me what made you cry?” You know he wasn’t going to stop until you fessed up.  

 “Fine.” You tell him everything that happened. After reliving the incident you started crying again. “But you know what Ace, he wasn’t lying.” Ace watched as you broke down in front of him. His eyes grew darker and darker by the second.

 “You stay here. I’m going to take care of this.” Ace bent over and placed a kiss on your forehead before turning around. You watched in shock as the jolly roger on his back flexed with every angry step he took.

 “Wait, what?” You snap back into reality and realize what he is about to do. “Wait Ace.” You followed behind him but it was too late. He jumped up on the railing and looked down on the party below.

 “Which one of you assholes made my Y/N cry?” Ace yelled out grabbing everyone's attention. Everyone went silent before the man stood up.

 “Y/N, you talking about that fatass that sat beside me earlier.” The man stood up, he was obviously drunk considering he was slurring his words. “I meant what I said. What are you gonna do about it punk?” Ace turned around and looked at you. 

 “Don’t listen to him Y/N. You're gorgeous. Now sit back and enjoy the show.” Ace stretched out his arms and legs. “Hold on to this for me please.” He places his hat on top of your head before jumping off the rails. You watch as his lower half turns into fire. He floats through the air and drops down on the table where the man was, breaking it clean in half.

 “What the hell.” The man fell from his seat and onto Moby's wooden deck. Ace towered over him with a look that would make any man tremble in fear.

 “You brought this on yourself. This will be a lesson you will never forget.” Ace grabbed the man. “Don’t” Punch “Ever.” Punch. “Talk.” Punch. “About my girl.” Ace landed one last blow on the man. 

 “Fuck you and that ugly bitch.” One of the man's teeth fell out with a little blood. 

 “Guess you didn’t learn huh?” Ace grabbed the man's throat. Flames erupt from Ace’s hands. He slung the man back and finished him off with his signature “Fire fist” Sending the man flying over board. You watched the scene unfold slack jawed. The guy deserved it and your glad Ace took care of him, but it was too much. 

 Your knees drop to the floor, causing Ace’s hat to fall beside you. Your vision was turning red and you felt light headed. Why did he kiss me? Why did he refer to me as his girl? Was he just playing with my feelings?  Why would he fight over someone as undeserving as me? Your mind raced before you face planted into the floor, losing consciousness.

 ~~~~A few hours later~~~~

 “You dumbass. Why in the hell did you think that was a good idea?” Your eyes open to see Marco scolding Ace who had a very prominent knot on his head.

 “You're right I’m sorry. It’s just I couldn't just stand back and let that guy get away for making Y/N cry. Seeing tears falling down her pretty face really struck a nerve in me and I acted on it. I don't regret doing it though.” Neither of the men notice you awake.

 “Make sure you take her into consideration next time before diving head first into a fight. You have a lot to learn.” Marco shook his head and looked over at you. A small smile made his way on your face before he motioned Ace in your direction. He turned his body around and ran to your side.

 “You're awake!” Ace kneeled beside your bed and took your hand in his. 

 “How do you feel Y/N?” Marco asked as he brought  you a glass of water, you gladly accepted it and gulped it down. 

 “I feel tired. Other than that I’m fine.” You lift your body off the bed as Ace grabs the empty glass from your hands.

 “Good. I diagnose you with being overwhelmed by this idiot.” Marco wacked Ace in the back of the head. “ Sadly for you Y/N there is no cure. My condolences.” 

 “Oh no, how will I live?” You say dramatically falling back on the bed. You close your eyes and stick your tongue like a dead animal causing both men to laugh.

 “I’m sure you will manage. But in all seriousness you’ll be okay. Stay in bed for the next few days and get some rest.” Marco walked towards your bedroom door and turned the handle. “I’ll leave you two alone. If you need me let me know. I’m sure you two have a lot to talk about.” Marco winked and walked out of the room.  

 “I’m really sorry Y/N. I hope you can forgive me.” Ace’s eyes looked down. He was riddled with guilt and it hurt you to watch.

 “It’s okay, I’ll forgive you if you answer a question for me?” Ace nodded, signaling for you to continue. “Well I guess it’s more like two. First, Why did you kiss me? Second, why did you refer to me as your girl?” 

 “Well, to answer both. I like you. No, if I’m being more honest. I love you Y/N.” Ace smiled as he looked at you. You became aware of his gaze and grabbed a pillow, shielding your stomach from him. “Don’t hide yourself from me.” He reached out and pulled the pillow away from you.

 “Ace, I'm not worth your love. You deserve someone pretty.” You lower your head, causing Ace to click his tongue.

 “The first part is a lie, but I can fully back that second statement. I know you don’t see yourself as the ideal girl. But in my eyes you are everything I’ve ever wanted and then some. You're sweet, you have the cutest laugh, you're fun to be around and don’t get me started on your hips and as-” You throw a pillow before you could let him finish. “Sorry, I deserved that. But what I’m trying to get at is you are beautiful. I wish you didn’t think so poorly of yourself. I will do whatever it takes to show you just how stunning you are.” Ace cupped your cheek in his hand, rubbing up and down lovingly.

 “Ace, what do you mean by that?” Your cheeks heat up under his soft touch.

 “Well pretty, what I’m saying is. Do you want to do this fool the honor of calling you his girlfriend?” Was this real? Did Ace really just ask you out?

 “Am I dreaming?” You reach your hand out and trace your finger over his freckles.

 “Nope, it’s real life. Here let me prove it to you.” Ace leaned over and planted his soft lips on yours. Your hands found their way to his soft hair, gently intertwining your fingers within the dark strands. Ace pulled away and planted little kisses all over your face. The heat in your face from his actions did not go unnoticed, “You look so cute when you're shy.” The smug man winked, causing you to hide your face in a pillow.

 “Portgas D. Ace.” You muffled from the pillow. “You are going to be the death of me.”

 “No, you're not dying anytime soon. We are going to grow old and wrinkly together whether you like it or not.” Ace stood up from the chair and stretched his body. “Now that sounds good doesn't it?” 

 “Yeah, yeah it does.” You pull your face from the pillow to peer up at him.

 “Good. Now, I think I’ve terrorized you enough for one day.” Ace leaned down and kissed your forehead just like earlier. “I’ll let you get some rest sweet girl.” Ace turned to leave but you reached out and grabbed his hand before he got too far.

 “Ace, wait.” He turned and curled a brow at you. “WIll you stay with me, please?” Ace’s expression softened.

 “Of course I will. Is it okay If I lay next to you?” You nod and scooch over in the bed, giving Ace some room to lay down. He took his hat off and threw it on your nightstand. You could feel the heat radiate off him as he laid down in the bed. It took everything in you not to reach out for him. You were unaware how hard you were staring at him until he spoke up. “You know you could stare at me all night or.” Ace lifted his arm out to you. “Or you could come closer so I can hold you.” 

 “But what If I’m too heavy and I-” You hesitated but Ace wrapped a strong arm around your midsection and nestled you into his toned chest. 

 “You will never be too heavy for me sweet girl.” His lips meet your forehead yet again. “Now get some rest, I’ll be right here when you wake up. Goodnight Y/N, sweet dreams.” You let your tense body relax in his hold. Between the warmth of his body and the feeling of protection being in his strong hold gave you, you fell asleep looking forward to all the nights like this to come.

 ~~Bonus~~

 “Vista move, I can’t see.” Izou whispered  while pushing the large man away from the door.

 “Young love, such a heartwarming sight.” Vista swooned at the sight of you in Ace’s embrace.

 “Cut it out you two you're going to wake them up.” Marco came up from behind and dragged them away from the door.

 “Fine.” Izou rolled his eyes and walked away, Vista followed. Marco made sure they left before spying on yours and Ace’s sleeping forms. He hates to admit it, but you are both very adorable. 

the sun sits low in the violet sky, kissing the horizon gently, casting a delicate, golden light along the underbelly of the fluffy clouds above with splashes of pinks, oranges, and light purples slowly swirling about. it’s magical, you tell yourself as you watch the sun sink further, a spell from mother nature herself.

it’s a belief you’ve held onto since you were a child, one that you tend to keep to yourself; people love to turn their noses up at strange ideas, and unfortunately, you learned that lesson the hard way many years ago. you drum your fingers along the railing of the balcony, enjoying the way the clouds resemble cotton candy; you reach a hand out as if you can scoop some into your palm, wanting a bit of that magic to help get you through the week.

a bitter wind blows close by, and you shiver, pulling your jacket around you tightly as you look over your shoulder. you absolutely detest winter — the way you can never keep warm enough, the snow is always terribly slippery, making you slide and fall over. you also hate that you’re stuck sharing a room with the incredibly obnoxious, first division commander. with your jaw clenched, you turn back to watch the sunset, determined to absorb as much warmth and magic as you can.

the wind brings a flush over your cheeks, nose, and ears; you should head back inside, find a spot to warm up, and go to sleep — but the idea of sleeping is out of the question.

marco is as insufferable as he is absurd — for being tall and more handsome than necessary, for being so naturally personable and so knowledgeable, for having no qualms about helping those in need, for being gifted with his hands, for teasing you without even trying, for making you flustered every time he’s near you — and you refuse to let him get the best of you.

obviously, he finds the situation laughable — particularly because you are so against it and vocalized said opinion earlier at lunch in front of everyone. you were so damn determined, went to various crew mates to try and trade spots but they all said the same damn thing: what? why? you and the commander get along so well. it’s not that he goes out of his way to get under your skin, but you make it easy enough. maybe he likes seeing you struggle to find a retort; maybe he likes that when you do find one, that you throw it at him with as much strength as you can muster — but without the venom necessary to make it hurt; or maybe he really doesn’t like you at all.

oil and water. that’s what you told him weeks ago. you’ll never be able to see eye-to-eye on anything because you are two completely different people. except, that’s not true at all — you’re both just too stubborn to see it. especially you. still, you’ll never openly admit that, and keep reminding yourself that had you not taken your time earlier, you’d have found a room that wasn’t occupied by him.

“foolish,” you mumble, breath visible from the cold; another annoyance, another thing to deal with. if you stay outside any longer, your fingers will fall off, so you do the sensible thing and return to the room in the hopes of warming up a bit. after being stuck on the winter island for days due to a persistent and heavy snowstorm, the weather finally lifts a bit. you suggested that your crew sail out last night, but marco vetoed the idea stating that there was no harm in staying for a few more nights — much to your annoyance, the rest of the crew cheered for his decision and the inn remained booked to capacity for the duration of the week.

the owners are ecstatic to have such a lively group stay with them — it’s almost hard to believe that you’re all pirates.

the first division commander was given the task of sailing out there to scope out the newest territory under whitebeard’s protection, but what you hadn’t considered was marco personally volunteering you to assist him with making house calls around the village. given the weather and overwhelming volume of patients, marco takes it upon himself to assist the practicing physician make their rounds in the area. it’s easy given that most of the inhabitants of the sleepy village are in relatively good health.

you watched him carefully and tallied all his grave offenses over the course of the week — the way he made the children laugh, the way he took his time explaining things to various patients, the way he’d randomly look over and catch you staring intently, the way he’d snort and try to fight back laughter only to fail miserably and laugh anyway. a thorn that you keep pricking yourself on, and just when you think you’ve reached your limit, he finds a way to push you completely over the edge.

of course, the room he chose only has one bed; on the first night you boldly declare that you refuse to share the bed with him and despite him saying that there’s enough space, stop being silly you still took refuge on the lone chair in the room and placed slept near the desk. he frowned at that, shot you a disparaging look — irritation at your immaturity given the circumstances — but didn’t fight you on it. you don’t remember when or how, but sometime during the night, marco swapped places with you. when you eventually wake up, feeling surprisingly refreshed and body ache free, you find him completely knocked out, asleep at the desk, a medical textbook open in front of him.

guilt seeps into your pores, has you scramble out of bed quickly, feet softly padding on the cold floor, shivering as you drag one of the thick blankets with you so you can drape it over his large body. bottom lip trapped between your teeth, you roll it back and forth in silent contemplation. because you’re not ungrateful, you lean forward and whisper thank you against his skin, lips making contact with his cheek as you leave behind a soft, chaste kiss. he stirs after that, making you leap back, hand pressed to your chest as your heart does the most disrespectful thing — beats rapidly, drowning out your thoughts, making you dizzy. when he doesn’t move again, you hop back into bed and curl onto your side and bury your head underneath the pillow.

when you see him later that day, he doesn’t thank you for sharing the blanket — on the other hand, you don’t think him for giving you the bed, either. his reasoning is because he’s still trying to figure out how best to broach the subject of you kissing him — or, his cheek, rather — and running away after. he considers himself a somewhat patient man, but with how much time he’s given you to get over your stubbornness, he’s not sure how much longer he’ll last at this rate.

your lips haunt him throughout the day, well into the night when you pretend to be asleep while he sits at that same desk, flipping through another book, but not absorbing a damn thing — he wonders why he hasn’t said anything yet, or why you still refuse to look at him, but he knows one of these days you’ll eventually concede. he must be patient, that’s all.

the following night tests your resolve; you make a small barrier with the pillows on the bed, struggling for a few minutes, even after he asks repeatedly if you need any help — but you decline, as you always do — before finishing and designating sides. eyebrow quirked; he looks at you in confusion. “it’s a bit much, don’t you think?” you inhale deeply, remind yourself to be as pleasant as possible and do your best to ignore the way his dark eyes keep you rooted in place.

“no,” you say quietly, but muster more courage to speak louder. “i think it’s an excellent idea. this way we can both lay on the bed without an issue.” you spent most of the day coming up with ideas and this was the best one; marco’s lips curl and he laughs without remorse.

“the problem is, the bed’s too small for that.” he checks the time and grabs his scarf. “i’m going out for a bit,” he says suddenly, “i’ll be back later.” he lingers by the doorway and says, almost as an afterthought, “i suggest you keep brainstorming,” before leaving.

you grab a pillow at random, determined to toss it at his retreating form, but don’t; instead, you flop onto the bed and bury your face in it, letting out a distressed cry out of frustration. no matter what you do, it seems the universe is determined to undermine your plans. maybe you should just stop fighting so much and see where things go, but when you think about the prospect of dropping your guard down around him, your mind spins — makes you lightheaded and impossibly foolish. you realize, belatedly, that the pillow you’re using is the one he used the night before.

it’s only evident because you’d recognize his cologne anywhere — it’s the kind to siphon all of the logic in your body, infiltrates your lungs so that it’s all you can smell and think about — you push the pillow away and roll onto your back, groaning audibly as you stare up at the ceiling. by the time marco gets back, you’re asleep, holding his pillow to your chest. naturally, he tries to pry it out of your arms, but you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for — so he acquiesces and after changing his clothes, climbs into the bed with you. just as he said before, there’s enough room for both of you; but he knows why you keep fighting him, and it’s amusing to see how far you’ll go to keep up the ruse.

again, you’re compromised, as marco’s arm rests around you lazily, his pillow discarded somewhere, and what’s worse is that you were possessed to do the unthinkable last night — cling to his body for warmth. his body temperature runs hotter than normal, so he’s the ideal person for you to share a small space with given the circumstances. however, when you take into consideration that you can barely function when he’s ten feet away let alone right next to you, this is the worst kind of situation to be in. your traitorous body makes it difficult to untangle yourself from his hold, but you succeed only to scoot too close to the edge of the bed and fall off.

“damn it,” you rub your shoulder and when you get off the floor, you see that he’s awake and doing a poor job of concealing his laughter again. a flush forces you to stomp away and angrily head to the bathroom to take a shower in the hopes of cleansing yourself of the indecent scenarios your mind keeps bombarding you with. you’re pretty sure he’s doing it on purpose, riling you up to the point where a single touch from him has you spiraling out of control. no amount of cold water can expunge the remaining heat from your body — the one that found you late last night when your fatigue had you so delusional that you languidly threw your leg around his, hands absently roaming along his exposed skin, your justification being that it was more comfortable to lay like that.

he was more than okay with that reasoning and wasn’t inclined to let you go; not when your body was so soft and pliable, where your breathing slowed to match his. he’d be a fool to disrupt that serenity and, besides, he liked having you to himself — away from the interference of the others.

you do your best to avoid interacting with him as much as possible, scurry off to the room under the guise of taking a nap — where he gives you an unreadable look in response, one that has tiny butterflies flapping around nervously in your stomach, that makes your hands shake, before telling you he’d be back later in the afternoon. nodding seems to be the only thing you’re capable at that moment, shutting the door in his face before lounging on the bed. frustration swells inside of you, splashing around angrily as you berate yourself internally.

there’s no real reason for you to be this difficult with him, but you’re unsure of how to proceed — your feelings are all over the place and you feel like throwing up constantly. if this is what the initial stage of love feels like, you’d rather spend the rest of your life sinking to the bottom of the ocean instead.

it’s ridiculous, though, that he can have you like this without even being remotely affected — to your knowledge, anyway — you bite down on your lip, wondering if maybe you just need to let go a little. you’re so tightly wound; you’ll never survive at the rate you’re going. lounging back on the bed, surrounded by your mini-fortress of pillows — as if that’ll protect you from him somehow — you think about the hard planes of his chest, how your fingers shamelessly traced along the ridges of his muscles, how he let you touch him freely without stopping you. it was confusing, to say the least, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it

it’s partially why you shimmy out of your pants and socks, toss the clothes haphazardly onto the floor, and find that your fingers are on the move again, brazenly slipping underneath the lace of your panties, legs parting to give yourself more access. this is wrong, you tell yourself as you gingerly dip your fingers in between your folds, arousal pooling as you imagine that it’s marco’s fingers touching you instead. and soon it doesn’t feel wrong at all; it’s freezing outside, but you’re burning up. a memory of his hand drifting down your back, of his fingers on your hips gently nudging you out of his way, of his mouth grazing your ear when you froze and didn’t immediately move.

the memory knocks into you repeatedly, battering your willpower, turning you into a sighing, whimpering mess — pitiful as you attempt to chase that similar feeling — once you starts rubbing slow circles on your pussy, hips jerking as you moan softly. while marco intended on taking some time for himself, he also happened to forget something in the room; so, imagine his surprise when he returns only a few minutes later, hand on the door handle as he watches you play with yourself. propriety would have him leave you be, walk it off, return much, much later and never speak of the incident again — but he’s beyond that now. he closes the door behind him, leans against the sturdy wood, eyelids lowering as an irrational whim washes over him.

you’re so into your fantasy that you didn’t hear him enter the room, nor did you hear him lock the door either. your fingers sink into your pussy, thrusting in and out slowly, at first, building momentum as you slide your free hand underneath your shirt to play with your nipples. it was hard enough the past few days dealing with being in the same room with you, which only amplified his agitation — with himself, of course — when he found that his cock was hard enough to incapacitate him last night. it’s only when he hears you call out his name — once, then again and again — that he bites his fist hard enough to draw blood, feeling whatever resolve he’d been desperately clinging onto snap with ease.

so of course, his legs carry him over to you, and of course he climbs onto the bed to swiftly remove your hand from your panties, his hand rough and warm around your wrist, your eyes blinking rapidly when you realize that he’s actually here and isn’t a figment of your imagination. you finally find your voice as shame sits heavily on your chest, making you squirm underneath him.

“don’t give me that look,” he says candidly, eyes drifting lower as they take in the sight of your damp panties and the wetness on your fingers. you should pull your hand away, but you don’t — too absorbed in watching him glide his tongue over your fingers, licking your arousal off, and lighting your entire body on fire. “you’re being selfish, y’know,” he says lightly, tongue clicking softly in his mouth as he looks down at you, while you attempt to form a coherent sentence, “keeping this from me…” he pinches your clit and drags another moan out of you as you buck your hips forward. “what do you have to say for yourself, hm?”

all you can do is open and close your mouth, for fear of telling him something mortifying — to admitting certain truths you keep trying to bury, but marco isn’t having any of that. not today.

“wrong answer,” he says with a sigh, almost as if he feels apologetic for what’s about to come. a different kind of anxiety fills you — mostly excitement that bubbles around inside, knocking your heart around, making it difficult to breathe as he tugs the rest of your clothes off of you. now, you’re quite certain this isn’t a dream, but on the off chance that it is… you hope you never wake up.

marco’s fingers twitch before he cups your breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers, his mouth following suit as he licks and sucks on them. you try your best to keep quiet, but it seems that marco’s determined to make you vocal; you fight hard against it, clamp your lips shut tight, moan bouncing around your mouth as you inhale sharply to keep grounded. he chuckles darkly, kneading your breasts, coaxing some soft whining out of you until he bites the curve along your breast. you stifle a loud moan when you press your hand against your mouth, legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer as you grind your hips against his. marco sucks his teeth at your insistence but admires your restraint; he trails kisses along your chest, teeth sinking into your skin as he leaves reddish marks behind.

your mind is melting, your body is completely under his spell, and you don’t even know why you’re fighting him this hard, if you’re honest. so, you simply give in — let desire take control for once, in the hopes that you’ll finally purge yourself of his lingering touch once and for all.

when he notices that your shoulders are much more relaxed, he shoots you a haughty grin before licking down the column of your throat, his fingers rubbing your pussy lazily, drawing out soft sighs that quickly morph into moans once he inserts a thick finger inside of you.

“marco,” you pant, eyes flying open again as you look at him, dazed but energized; you lick your lips and he circles his thumb around your clit. “more,” you say, a little breathless from his finger plunging in and out of you quickly — another finger joining the first one almost immediately. “more, please.” you don’t know what you’re asking for exactly, only that you’re slowly descending into a marco-induced-madness that currently has no cure.

“decided to stop being stubborn, huh,” a smug grin takes hold of his face before he kisses you. his lips move against yours with ease, your skin burning as his tongue slips into your mouth. your hips tremble with each thrust of his fingers, his cock pressing against the front of his pants, making it difficult to focus. you slide your hands underneath his shirt — soft and warm, skin smooth as it rubs softly against his abs — admire his hard muscles, and scratch at his chest when you clench around him suddenly, a dangerous flash of heat pooling in between your thighs as you cum unexpectedly.

your hips buck wildly under his hand as he keeps thrusting his fingers in and out of you. it’s impossible, the way you’re currently consuming every part of him — infiltrating the deepest parts of his mind, settling as if you’re intent on staying permanently — he hates how much he wants you and hates the way he doesn’t hate it at all. his teeth tug on your bottom lip, sucking roughly before releasing it with a small pop.

before he can say anything else that’ll piss you off, you tug his shirt off of him; he helps you take off the rest, and gives you a heated look, eyes raking down your body, admiring the bite marks he left behind. a good look, he wants to tell you, but keeps the comment to himself. for now. instead, he lowers himself so he can properly taste you. he runs his tongue flat against your pussy, the sensation making you yelp — you cover your mouth with your hands again, which makes him pull back and slap your pussy.

“don’t cover your mouth,” he says gruffly, mouth lowering as he spreads your folds open, “i want to hear you.”

his voice alone could trigger another orgasm within you, but thankfully he doesn’t say anything else. “but,” you start, swallow hard, hips rolling to push your pussy against his mouth as he eats you out, “w-what if s-someone hears?” you could kick yourself for sounding so timid, but you really don’t want to deal with anyone’s teasing after all of this. marco doesn’t answer right away, and before you can tell him off, he flicks his tongue against your clit and you let out a loud moan.

shameless, absolutely shameless; you don’t even bother feigning innocence, you’re too far gone for all of that right now.

“so what,” he says in between long licks, “let them hear.” it’s not like they’d actually have the guts to ridicule you in front of him. you want to tell him how ridiculous that is, that he can’t possibly mean that. but, when he looks up at you, a devilish glint coasting along his eyes, you decide against it. marco is something short of a man possessed, tongue dipping deeply inside your tight hole, enjoying the way your thighs press against him. pre-cum drips down the head of his stiff cock — he wants to fuck you so badly but is also very invested in ripping another orgasm out of you. there have been one too many nights where he envisioned his mouth on your pussy, devouring you like a man starved.

marco slurps on your pussy loudly, the noise lewd and making you flush all over again. he doesn’t care and likes the sound, committing it all to memory for later. when his mouth latches around your clit, a sinister jolt pulses through you, he holds you as he roughly sucks on your clit.

“fuck, marco, yes,” you words are strained, breath coming out in shallow pants, when you cum for the second time, he laps up your arousal, he taste hypnotizing him. you must’ve lost your mind because when he tells you to get on your hands and knees you don’t argue with him. marco runs a large hand over your ass, enjoying its suppleness, slapping it roughly. you let out a startled cry, nipples painfully hard as you clutch the bedsheets tightly.

“don’t hold back, love,” he says in warning, and you nod weakly before he slaps your ass again, prompting you to say yes repeatedly. “good girl,” he rubs the head of his cock against your glistening folds, a shudder passing through him at the contact. he’s so upset it took both of you so long to get to this point, but he’s glad it happened. and you are too, even though you fully plan on denying this tomorrow — because the idea of admitting that you liked marco so much you couldn’t handle it is too damn embarrassing, even for you.

marco inches his cock inside of you and you push your hips back to take more of him. he hisses and grabs onto your hips, fingers digging into your plush skin, a series of moans tumbling out of your mouths when he snaps his hips forward. he pauses briefly, allows you to adjust to his girth and length, and knocks his hips against yours all over again. his strokes are deadly — broad, hard, filthy — your back arches as you bounce against him, pussy tight and hot around him. not one to lose control of himself without reason, he finds himself unraveling quickly. he grabs your ass as he lifts his hips to angle his cock differently.

by now you’re sure your crew mates have all heard you scream marco’s name, panting as you beg him to fuck you harder, his hand wrapping around your thick hair, yanking you back towards him. he bites your neck as his hips remain close, strokes brutal and fast. you doubt you’ll be able to fuck anyone else after him. his body envelopes yours, sweat trailing down the side of his face, a light sheen coating your forehead and chest. he sucks on your neck recklessly, flicking his tongue at the spot, your hips bucking against him.

he pushes you down onto the bed, pulling out and rolling his hips forward, burying his cock in one go, a deep groan rumbling from deep inside of him. it’s feral, the way his thrusts are frenzied, possessive, tantalizing; a bit of drool trails down your lip, onto your chin as you sob, another orgasm powering through you. he pulls out again, rolls you onto your back, your lips parted — swollen from the way he kissed you earlier — eyelids lowered, a bit of adoration and hunger coasting along your face. there’s no way he can let you go after this; it simply wouldn’t work.

marco plunges his cock back into your puffy, aching cunt, your legs wrapping around him once more, your nails sinking into his skin as you scratch him. his lips are on yours again, tongue caressing yours hotly as he thrusts into you ardently, the orgasm lasting longer than necessary, body trembling from overstimulation. “i know,” he says in between kisses, reassuring you that he’s not that barbaric, “i know, i’ve got you.” something about the way he says that fills your chest with warmth, making you clench around his cock, your soft, plush walls milking him — spoiled and just as greedy, but he has no problems indulging you for something like this.

kissing you fervently, all teeth and tongue — messy, intense, crazed as you tug cling to him, hips rocking against his, pushing him over the edge indefinitely. his cum is thick, hot — even more as he keeps fucking you. later, you’ll tell him that he’s insatiable, an actual monster — but for now, you’re much too preoccupied with the delicious waves of euphoria that take over you. his hips slow but he doesn’t pull out right away, opting to kiss you again — properly, taking his time to map out your lips with his — breathing uneven, body heavy but a welcomed weight over you.

despite all of your theatrical tantrums, you know that a part of the reason why marco fucked you so hard was to tame that side of you. if he knows he was successful, you’ll never hear the end of it. so you don’t say a thing and enjoy the way your body feels light and weightless, a feverish hazes taking over you in the end, your arms wrapping around him, not wanting to let him go anytime soon — which is fine with him, your pussy is top priority on his list of things to do today, anyway.

Everything was going well on the Moby-Dick. The crew will approach an allied island, the weather is clear with bright sunshine... It is then that the voice of the father, Whitebeard, begins to rise in the air. “Bring me back, Marco. '' Someone runs to the infirmary, knocking and entering. To meet a slightly tired Marco, reading a medical book, raising an eyebrow when he saw the person burst into his little nest, as he likes to call the infirmary. “Father, he is asking for you. '' Neither one nor two, Marco gets up, heading for the main deck. To see a big smiled Whitebeard.

“Gurararara! You were quick Marco. ''

“Father, are you okay? ''

'' Yes ​​do not worry. I have a mission to entrust to you… You will spend your day with s/o. ''

Marco raising an eyebrow. Holding back a smile of joy.

“Okay Father! ''

Don't tell him twice. Marco hurries to his room with s/o, to warn her. Which makes laugh s/, to see Marco joy. A good hour later, the two lovesbirds are on the island. Walking hand in hand, spending time together. This flattering with some local snacks, testing the local cuisine.

“Wha– I am not even making any noises! What are you on about, Marco? This is your third visit today! Tell me!” On a serious note, you weren’t actually shouting, just raising your voice enough to let out your frustration.

“Ohoho, I didn’t know we’re now on a first name basis, (Y/N). And mind you, I only did these visits because of you-yoi. The first one is about you not properly taking out your trash, hence that large garbage bin out there was opened and a mess. And second is because your neighbor said,” he glances to his right, “that you were so loud last night, singing and screaming at whatever is on your tv-yoi.” He glances at your living room.

A snarky comment was about to leave your mouth but it just stays then dies down. While what he said are all somehow true (you’d never admit it fully) you can’t help but still think of cursing him for this. But what can you do? You’re just one of his tenants.

Your lips open and close, attempting to let out that comment. Marco notices it and just smirks, sighing and chuckling a bit at you.

“So, I suggest you keep down and be quiet here, or you can go out and let all your frustrations out, Miss 118.” He has that shit-eating grin again.

Miss 118, because your unit number is 118. If you’re thinking that this is a huge apartment building, it’s really not. This landlord of yours just started with 100 up until 151, that’s why.

“Whatever, land lord.” You say those words separately and with emphasis, gritting your teeth and staring him down. Rationally speaking, if this were some other landlords, your ass would’ve been kicked out long ago. For Marco’s case.. not really.

He turns around and laughs, raising his hand for goodbye. “You can get all pissy with me, Miss 118, but I ain’t really gonna be phased-yoi.” With that, he’s out of your sight. No way in hell you’re gonna be following him with your eyes while walking out.

You closed the door with a huff and repeated whispers of ’patience.’ After composing yourself, you’re back to your earlier mood and will now continue online shopping.

Weeks after that, it was a miracle that you followed through with being quiet and just going out to be loud without disturbing any neighbors. Seriously, the man next door should not even live there. He’s what, forty-three? He looks like he can own a Victorian model of a house!

Well, whatever.

Your landlord that lives in unit 100—on the top floor—wonders why he hasn’t gotten any complaints from anyone regarding you yet.

It wasn’t that he’s expecting from all those knocks that there’s a new complainant. Not really, no. He’s just really wondering why you haven’t been causing troubles lately.

It was a miracle, but not for long.

You come home drunk from a friend’s party that just had to make you taste all kinds of alcohol he has from his home. And there, you wondered greatly why your Victorian-like neighbor was there.

Shanks, your friend, invited you to celebrate his other friend’s achievement. You could care less, what’s important is booze. So there, you got drunk and partied to your heart’s content again. For the third time that week. Man, Shanks’ habit is growing on you, and yes, by the time you reach fifty, you’re thinking that you’re gonna be having an illness.

Clumsily walking through your door, you smile like an idiot to yourself while removing your shoes. Going to the living room, you see your tv. And that indicates a bad thing, actually.

Like what that means, that midnight, you turned the tv and opened Youtube. And that was the start of your second party for the day, and the start for your concert. At almost two in the morning.

When you woke up, it was in the afternoon, a not-so-likeable head and back aches. As best as you can, you tried and sobered yourself up. Took a shower, cleaned up your living room, and opened your phone to see Shanks’ appreciation for you going to the party.

Though here comes the fun police now. Once you sent your reply to Shanks, someone knocked on your door.

Weeks. Weeks of no noisy shenanigans have gone by. Of course you didn’t remember any certain someone. So you stand and open the door with a small smile, expecting someone but not this kind of someone.

“Hey! Did ya miss me-yoi? It’s been weeks, Miss 118!” That shit-eating grin.

“Yeah, definitely, landlord. What’re you here for?” You roll your eyes and cross your arms.

“Just wanna ask, did you know that you’ve become so popular here-yoi?” Oh shit.

You almost grimaced. “No..?”

“Funny, ’coz yesterday, people thought that there was an artist from this very floor, at this very door-yoi! Have a guess as to why?” He mimics your crossed arms.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I was drunk, got crazy, alcohol had me, and you know the rest. Sorry, okay?” Now you’re nervous. Kind of.

“You know what, Miss 118? I think I need to–”

Panic. “No– no! Don’t even continue!” You wave your hands in front. “I promise you, that won’t happen ever again, Marco! I seriously do!” You even put your hand up. “Just don’t.. don’t say whatever you were about to say, please…” You grimace.

“Say what? That–”

“No–”

“What do you mean no–”

“Don’t say it–”

“I’m asking, what–”

“Don’t tell me to move out of here, Marco!”

You cut him off with a shout. An abrupt one that made him widen his eyes for a second. He then looked at you with that angry face. Your body is close to him because you stepped forward in anger, and his head is pulled back slightly.

Realizing what you did, it was like you snapped out and straightened yourself, stepping backward and composing yourself. Heated cheeks due to embarrassment. Yup, you might be kicked out now.

“I-I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to…” You almost fidget in your place but you put your hands behind you to instead fiddle with them.

Marco still stared at you, your unexpected outburst still shocking him. Though he isn’t angry nor thinking of what you thought he meant to say. And then he smirks again, clearing his throat and straightening himself.

“You really thought I was gonna say that, (Y/N)? Don’t you know me-yoi?”

Your eyes widened. “Was that not…?”

“No. I was about to suggest for you to move out here and up the floors, near my floor apartment-yoi. So I can keep you in check, even if you promised not to do all those again.” He put his hands in his pants pocket, shrugging his shoulders off.

“What?”

“If that’s okay with you. You still had the last decision-yoi.”

On the same floor with Marco? Well shit.

“I don’t think…” You hold on the door frame.

“Okay, whatever-yoi. It’s just my suggestion. Well, just keep your promise, I don’t want anyone in my building to leave.” With that, he left.

You stay stuck on your door, thinking back to your outburst that was literally out of hand. Even though Marco is an acquaintance, he’s still your landlord. Even if he’s chill, he’s still your landlord. And god, you yelled at him! Who on earth would do that?

It was more awful when you realized that your neighbors must’ve heard that. Ugh, talk about disrespect.

Stuck in your messy land of thoughts, you didn’t notice someone waving in front of you. They look at you with a little bit of confusion but mostly amusement.

“Hey, (Y/N).”

“Hey, you there-yoi?”

It was like you went into a short circuit. Your eyes became blurry because it had crossed—that always happens when you are zoning out.

When you felt a hand on your shoulder, that’s what snapped you out of your reverie. Then you looked at the person with a jolt.

“Marco? Are you here to take back what you said?”

“What? No!” He chuckled.

“Then what? I’m sorry again.”

“We’re past that. Forget it-yoo.” He then scratches at his hand. “I was thinking, that maybe I could invite you to dinner later?”

“Dinner?” Your mouth agape.

“Yeah. If it’s okay with you.”

Your landlord? Asking you to dinner? Is this what you think it is?

You almost went into a short circuit again but he held on to your shoulder again, seemingly caught on that you’d go back to that state again.

“It’s nothing really–”

“Is this a date?” Little by little, you start to smile at him, seeing his face lighten up and had that tinge of red.

“If you want to call it that, then yeah-yoi.”

Not convincing enough.

“Hmm, but what will you call it then? I’ll only agree if you name it.” You crossed your arms,now fully smiling.

He blinked a few times, contemplating on what to say. But by just staring at your face, he only has one thing in mind.

“Can we go out on a dinner date later?” At that, he smiled too.

“That’s more like it! I’ll wait for you here!”

You gave him a quick peck on the cheek, then you’re off to look for an outfit.

You didn’t even bother to close the door, so Marco closed it with a shake of his head. With a smile.

The landlord finally made a move and asked out his favorite tenant. If only Marco’s brothers were present at the moment, he would be teased to no end.