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msgexymunson · 6 months

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The Ink Shop

Description: Desperate for a job, you answer an advertisement not knowing it's a tattoo shop. It's not particularly difficult work, except for one thing: having to deal with Eddie Munson.

Warnings: NSFW, minors DNI or I'll tell your parents, fem reader, thick sexual tension, angst and smut. Fingering.

A/N: I finally wrote it! The teach me fic I've been day dreaming about forever. This will be part one of three, and honestly this is one of the hottest things I've written. If you enjoy it, please comment and reblog, it means the world to me.

8k words

Masterlist Part 2

Screwing your nose up in confusion, you look at the meticulously cut snippet of newspaper neatly attached to your resume with a paperclip. Sure enough, receptionist and administrator wanted for a place called ‘The Ink Shop’.

The outside of the building looks a little bleak, all decked out in black with frosted windows, but the fading lettering above does indeed spell out ‘The Ink Shop’.

Weird. This does not look like a printers.

You smooth down a minor wrinkle in your white shirt and open the door with unsure hands, the bell above ringing out loudly.

Oh.

This is not a printers. This is a tattoo shop.

The thought hadn't even crossed your mind. The noise is a cacophony of buzzing, rock music and loud conversation. Art hangs on every available wall, the wallpaper underneath a royal purple, faded over time. There's frames upon frames of predesigned pieces for people to choose from, and an enormous wooden counter, black and gouged with use, directly in front of the doors.

Taking a confidence boosting breath you march forward, pencil skirt stretching and heels clicking on the black and white linoleum, and stand by the counter. No one seems to have noticed your arrival, and a polite cough is not going to cut it.

“Hello?” Calling out to the shop, a devilishly handsome tattooed man in a ripped band shirt, black jeans and scuffed army boots turns his head. Loose dark curls escape a low bun and swivel with him, framing his animated face. He saunters over to the counter and towers over you, giving you an appraising look.

“You old enough to be in here sweetheart?” He asks, amused, as he points to the sign on the wall that states ‘Strictly Over 21s, no exceptions’.

“Yes?” You're trying to be confident but it comes out as a question, entirely taken aback by the strength of his stare.

“Oh, well then I'm Eddie,” he holds out a hand and you're forced to reach up to shake it, but to your surprise he doesn't let go. The skin is rougher than you thought it would be, and absolutely covered in small tattoos. “What is it today? Let me guess, cover up an ex boyfriend's name? I can help you forget all about him.”

The grin he shoots back is nothing short of predatory. All you can think of is that old childhood song, never smile at a crocodile…

“No, no, I'm here about the job?”

He looks genuinely surprised, taking in your outfit in another flagrant stare.

“Really? You?”

“Yes, me.” You respond, cheeks flushing in annoyance.

“Hey, Mac!” He calls over his shoulder and a big guy with a shaved head lowers his tattoo gun, glancing over at you both. “This girl's after a job?”

Mac stands up slowly and begins to walk over.

“You can let go now princess.”

Staring at Eddie dumbfoundedly, you realise his grip on your hand has softened completely. Whipping your hand away, you flash him a defiant eye. It's ineffective; he merely grins wider and winks at you, poking his tongue out playfully. You see a hint of silver, a tongue piercing.

“Hey there, I'm Mac, the owner.” another handshake, but gentler and brief. You introduce yourself and go to hand him your resume.

A phone rings on the counter and Mac shouts “no!” just as Eddie picks it up.

“Mac’s Roadkill Café, from your grill to ours.” Eddie delivers the line as smooth as silk, never taking his eyes off you. “Yeah, it's Eddie, of course. Oh, I'll tell him. Thanks.”

As Eddie turns to Mac he's given a small but effective slap to the back of the head by Mac.

“What did I tell you, stop answering like that!”

Eddie just grins wider and looks at you again, a fake pout on his full lips.

“You see that? Harassment in the workplace. Wanna kiss it better?”

Mac shuts his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, then turns to face you again.

“Are you immediate start?”

“Er, yeah. I've got my resume, and references here-”

“Listen Miss, if you can read and write, answer a phone, and put up with that-” he says, gesturing a thumb at Eddie, “then you've got the job.”

Thank God, two of those references were your best friend with different names. Stunned, you just nod fast.

“Great. Tomorrow morning. We open at 10am.”

Saying goodbye, you turn to exit, and risk one final glance over your shoulder. Eddie's still at the counter. A disarming wink, and then the door shuts behind you.

********************

So, not exactly what you expected, but a job's a job. After getting a degree, you'd assumed doors would open, but a string of coffee houses later and here you are. You'll take it.

It's 9:30 am, and you stand outside, wondering whether or not to try the door. Keen, but not too keen. It's a line you're trying to toe without much experience, especially with an establishment like this.

A pretty woman with an undercut and a butterfly neck tattoo stirs you out of your calculations.

“Hey, I'm Chloe. You're the new girl, right? Eddie bet you'd be early.”

Blushing at the entirely accurate first impression, you try to stop your nose scrunching in distaste. As if reading your mind, Chloe chuckles.

“Ah, don't worry about him, he's an idiot. Come on, I'll show you the ropes.”

Chloe is the piercer that basically rents a place in the shop, where she's been for around three years, she explains. There's also Julio, who does more realistic tattoo work, and Miranda who works part time.

Chloe turns out to be warm and welcoming, showing you how they book clients in, how to take payments, and the phone note system. It's straightforward work, stuff you'll master in no time. In fact, you feel comfortable enough by 10 am to sit at the counter on your own.

Mac arrives on time, giving you a quick check in and taking down all your information on a yellow legal pad.

“Do you not have a computer in here?” you ask, genuinely puzzled.

“Oh no, not yet. I don't know how to work those things, Miss.” Mac chuckles, and gets to his station to prepare for his first client.

At 10:45 am Eddie walks through the door as if he owns the place.

Your eyes widen at his brazen lateness, but no one seems to bat an eyelid. It boils your blood; to be that disrespectful and clearly not care. How could someone act like that?

“Hey princess, didn't think you'd come back,” he smiles, reaching for your hand.

Oh I'm not falling for that again.

You pull your hand into your lap, expecting trickery from him. A smug grin smears across his face at the gesture, as if he knew you'd do that. It makes you even more annoyed.

“Eddie, the book says you start,” you say, flicking through the tome in front of you, “ah, at 10 am today.”

“It's walk-in Wednesday sweetheart. There's no one here.”

He's got a point. Chloe had explained the tattoo artists work a shift of Wednesdays, someone is always available for walk-ins for small and pre designed pieces. Today is Eddie's turn, and he's right, no one is here.

“Well, there could have been,” you snark back, folding your arms.

He crosses into the shop, pushing the little gate open and stands next to you, arms crossed. The height you had is now lost, forcing you to look up at him.

“As far as I know, you ain't the boss of me. I suggest taking the stick out of your ass before you come here.”

Mouth falling open in outrage, you move to reply but he's already turned away.

“Oh, and princess, there ain't a dress code.”

He's gone, disappearing upstairs. Blushing crimson, you cross your arms as if you can hide the conservative outfit you're wearing.

You're beginning to see why Mac asked if you could put up with Eddie.

********************

Halfway through the day, you realise just why Mac puts up with Eddie.

“Hey! Seeing if I can book with Eddie?”

“Any appointments with Eddie?”

“Just checking to see if Eddie had any cancellations?”

It seems most calls are about him. As you check his schedule, it's not only fully booked for the next 6 months, they've even started a waiting list at the back.

“Any walk-ins?”

The words next to your ear make you jump bodily, almost losing your place on your chair in alarm.

“You scared me! No, I would have said,” turning to him, you're sucked into those deep brown eyes once again. “Why do you do walk-in Wednesdays if you're so… so popular?”

Eddie flashes a smile at you, full of self importance. “I don't know sweetheart, Van Gogh wasn't made to doodle!” Shouting the last part at the back of Mac's head, he turns to you. “We just divided the shifts, so it was fair, that's all. Why, want a tattoo?”

You roll your eyes. “No, I was just wondering.”

“Do you have any, princess?”

“Not that it's any of your business, but no, I don't.”

The laugh that rips from Eddie's chest is hearty and full of amusement.

“You work in a tattoo shop and you don't have any? That's practically blasphemy!”

The little bell above the door rings, and a nervous guy looks around before walking in. Before you see what he wants, you shout to Eddie's retreating back.

“Van Gogh was only famous after he died, you know!”

It's a little later on in the day; you've done a stock take, ordered more ink, and neatened up the consent sheets three times. The phone hasn't rung in a while, and you're bored out of your mind.

Chloe walks over, coat in her hand.

“Hey, how you getting on?”

“I'm good, just bored.”

She laughs, “it's not always this quiet, mid week and all. Mac's done for the day, and I'm heading off. You gonna be OK?”

You glance over to Eddie, who to your surprise is tattooing his own fingers.

“What, with the untrained monkey? I'll live.”

She laughs harder at that, “he's not so bad, once you get to know him.” Lowering her voice, she whispers, “he's good at some things, you know.” The conspiratorial wink fills in what she isn't saying. Cheeks flushed, you gawp at Eddie and back at Chloe.

“Huh? W-what, are you like, an item?” You ask, entirely thrown.

“Oh no, he's not exactly boyfriend material. It was just one night, but bloody hell. Anyway, it's not like that anymore, we're just friends now. Maybe you two should just, you know.”

A blush floods your face, almost reaching the roots of your hair. “I don't- I don't, do that.”

“I'm just saying, it's an option. It'd stop the bickering at least. I can sense the tension from all the way over there.”

Without a further word, she leaves you sitting on your stool, trying to remember how to breathe.

Right, let's just play nice.

Walking over to his station, you try to glimpse what he's tattooing.

“I thought Van Gogh wasn't made to doodle” you quip, trying to keep it light.

“This is different” he responds, not looking up at you.

“You know, that's a waste of a needle.”

Eddie turns the machine off and rolls his eyes at you.

“Who made you Princess of the Needles, hmmm?”

“Mac did actually, when he asked me to check the stock,” you reply hotly, folding your arms. Stopping for a second, you take a breath. Play nice, you're supposed to be playing nice.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to-”

Eddie turns the machine back on and continues with his impromptu tattoo.

“Can't you just be… professional?” You ask over the buzzing.

“Can't you just relax for a second? No ones here. Fuck, you need to get laid.”

Mouth dropping open in shock, you grab your bag and stomp out of the store, anger fuelling every step.

********************

Right, be calm, put together. You've dealt with worse people.

It's true. At the coffee shop you had on edge caffeine addicts shout in your face almost on a daily basis, but none of them got under your skin like Eddie did. Then again, none of them had spat truths like venom in your face.

Breathe. Just breathe.

Taking the leap, you walk into the shop, coffees and a tray of donuts in hand; a small peace offering. To your surprise, he is already at his station, sorting through ink pots.

You make quick work of handing out coffee and donuts to everyone, until you reach his side. There's plastic wrap around one of his fingers, you assume from his little tattoo session yesterday. It only serves to remind you of how tetchy you were.

“Morning Eddie.”

“So you came back. Tough little princess ain't ya? Remove the stick from your ass yet?” The grin he flashes you is wide but there's a bite to his words.

He's trying to rile you up, but you ignore it, thrusting a coffee at him.

“I'll be nice if you will.”

Tension laces the air as he stares at your outstretched hand, but he takes the coffee.

“I'm sorry Eddie.”

Opening the box of donuts, you gesture for him to take one. He does, stuffing half of it into his mouth.

“What about you?” you ask.

“Huh?” He mumbles through a mouthful of crumbs.

“Are you sorry…?”

“What for?”

Setting your jaw, your hand is about two seconds from slapping the shit out of him, but you need the money. So, you huff and walk away.

“What did I do?” He huffs, shouting it to the shop.

“You should just say sorry, you've clearly upset her.” Chloe calls over to him, a slight smile on her face.

“Yeah, how do you know?”

“You upset everyone Eddie.” She laughs, and stands to greet her first client.

It's a tense kind of day, with neither you nor Eddie backing down, only speaking to each other if absolutely necessary. By the time everyone's left it's just you and him again.

He's finishing up with a client, telling them about aftercare as they gush about their new ink. It's difficult to deny, the guy is talented. This phoenix tattoo looks like it's popping right off of the skin, the flames so bright and detailed you could swear you saw them move.

Once they've left, there's an awkward pause. Eddie breaks the silence first.

“Listen, I'm sorry sweetheart. I shouldn't have been rude to you. So I'll make you a deal. I'll give you a tattoo, for free, and we ask each other questions, get to know each other. What do you say?”

Smiling in spite of yourself, you turn to face him. “And why would I want a tattoo?”

He visibly relaxes at your grin, and flashes one of his own. “Come on, I'm the best. I promise I'll be gentle.”

“We close at six, so it'll have to wait.”

Eddie looks at the clock, and bobs his head with each tick. Twenty seconds later he turns to you, eyebrows raised.

“Fine, I suppose it is a bit silly to work in a tattoo shop with no ink.”

He punches the air with glee, forcing you to smile despite your better judgement.

“Well then, what are you thinking, got any ideas in mind?”

“I want a heart on my hip” he groans, putting his face in his hands, “hang on, before you judge, I want one like this.”

Pulling a book from your bag, you turn to the page neatly bookmarked. It's an anatomical heart from a textbook you own, a line and dot drawing.

“Oh.” Eddie's eyes light up, “that's pretty metal, actually. So, you just happen to have this on you?”

“No, I've been thinking about it for a while. It's… not what people would expect. And when I got the job here, I was working up the courage to get it. Carrying around the book was a promise to myself, I think.”

He busies himself with getting a stencil ready, the drawing supplied speeding up the process.

“Right, climb on up princess, show me where you want it.”

Blushing, you unzip your skirt at the back and roll it down slightly, shifting your blouse up high. The smile Eddie gives you is salacious, but he doesn't say a word.

“Right here?” Softly his fingertips graze you, making you jump. That simple act crackles over your skin in an electricity unknown to you.

“Y-yes,” you practically whisper it, face crimson.

“So, questions. Can I go first?”

“Sure” you nod, feeling vulnerable flashing this much skin.

“OK,” he starts, pressing the stencil down, “I'll start with an easy one. How old are you?”

“23.”

He nods, prepping the needle, “your turn princess.”

“How old are you?”

“Ah, copycat,” he grins, testing the gun, the sudden noise making you jump, “I'm 30 sweetheart. I know, I look younger.”

Act younger is more like it.

“I'm gonna start, you still alright?”

“Uh huh.”

“Atta girl. It'll feel like a scratch.”

He leans forward as his words burn your insides. Atta girl? Part of you wanted to tell him you're not a fucking horse, but another, deeper, part keens at the praise, kicking it's feet and twirling its hair like some dizzy schoolgirl.

The needle touches and you jump, but it's fine. It's easy. If anything, it's rather nice? You gasp at the feeling, your feet wiggling.

“Right, next question. Why here, why this job?”

The gun is moving across your skin, consuming all rational thought. You could lie, but a part of you feels like he'd know somehow.

“I thought it was a printers shop, or a copy place.”

He laughs briefly, but continues to focus on your new ink.

“I knew it. Pretty, innocent thing like you, wandering into this den of depravity? Too good to be true.”

Glazing over his comment, you think of a question to ask.

“How did you start working here?”

Eddie scoffs and turns off his machine for a moment, “you need to get creative, stop using my questions.”

“I really want to know!” You say, meeting his derisory look.

“Fine, quid pro quo and all that shit. Been here seven years. I begged. I begged Mac for an apprenticeship everyday for a week. He gave in, and here I am. Ask something else, that was boring.”

You wrack your brains, trying to think of something original, far too aware of the steadying hand that he's pushing onto your abdomen.

“What band is that?”

It's the only thing that pops into your mind. He follows your eye line to his t-shirt.

“Oh this? This is my band, Corroded Coffin. You should come see us sometime.”

“Oh, what do you play?”

His face lights up, “I sing, and play guitar. That's why my fingers are so rough-” he holds one up, covered in black latex, “-oh yeah, gloves.”

After you both share a chuckle, there's a breath of quiet between you, except for the sound of the tattoo gun.

“My turn,” he says, smiling at your hip, “I gotta know, are you a virgin?”

It's a miracle that he's as responsive as he is, since the question knocks you sideways. You sit up in shock, but he's already moved the needle off and away.

“You can't just ask that, it's… it's rude!” you splutter, face glowing red.

There's no trace of apology on his face. In fact, his grin only widens with your reply.

“I thought so. Don't worry, I'm not gonna tease you about it.”

Laying back down, you try to think of something to say, but it just doesn't arrive. He can read you like an open book and it's deeply unsettling, not to mention embarrassing.

“Your turn princess.”

“I don't want to play anymore.”

“Oh come on, I'm being nice! Ask me something.”

“Fine. What was your last wet dream about?”

To your dismay, he smiles yet again.

“You, sweetheart.”

Huffing, you cross your arms in annoyance. “Fine, don't answer.”

He's focusing on your tattoo, tongue poking out in concentration, “I'm nearly done, then you can go back to hating me.”

“I don't hate you. I've never hated anyone,” you respond in truth. Eddie's eyebrows raise, but he remains focused.

“Really? You must have had a much better childhood than mine.”

It's quiet for a bit. You're not sure how to respond to that, feeling the cloud of his memory hanging thickly in the air between you.

“All done.”

“Huh?”

He chuckles and points at your new ink, “take a look.”

It's beautiful. All line and dot work, like it was pulled from the book itself and glued to your hip.

“It's amazing Eddie. Thank you.”

The grin he shoots you is warm as he wraps your new ink and then removes his gloves. “No problem. I'll lock up, the sheets on aftercare are right there. But you knew that.”

Smiling affectionately, you take one and stand up, hovering for a second.

“Eddie what do I owe-”

“-not a damn thing. See you in the morning, princess.”

********************

The next few days were much more pleasant. Eddie was flirty, yes, but he seemed to understand when to stop. You had been nicer to him, biting back on the comments when you could. There was a rhythm to it, a constant dance of him flustering you and you annoying him.

Things really felt like they were falling into place. Until Eddie decided to cross the line.

Walk in Wednesday again, and the shop was dead. Julio was on shift, sitting in the back having a nap.

“Hey Mac, can I ask you something?”

“Sure, what is it Miss?”

“Well, how do people know about our Wednesdays?”

“Mostly word of mouth. We handed out flyers before, but it didn't really pick up. Honestly, I'm thinking of scrapping it.” He shrugs, taking a sip of coffee.

“Before you do, I have an idea. I can design some flyers, get them out to the coffee shop I used to work at. It's by campus, I'm sure a few students would jump at the chance. You could offer a student discount, get them in the door?” You stare at him wide eyed, hoping he likes the idea. The little speech was one you'd practised about fourteen times before actually saying it to him.

He stares at you for a moment, then smiles. “You know, that's a good idea. I like it. Tell you what, you make it a success and I'll give you a raise.”

“Oh, thank you! I'll get on it.” You beam, and start planning the flyer.

Ten minutes later you have your head down, your attention entirely on the paper in front of you. The noisy shop was purely a background soundtrack, including the approaching footsteps. Then, there's a whisper, directly in your ear.

“What you up to, princess?”

“Fuck!”

You scream it out and jump so high you fall off your stool. Eddie's in bits, laughing so hard he's clutching his stomach.

“I'm sorry I didn't mean to,” he says, looking the least sorry you've ever seen a person look.

Clambering off the floor to berate him, your mouth flops open when you hear a rip. As you desperately turn your head to look down, you see where your pencil skirt has torn right next to the seam nearly up to your ass.

“Fuck's sake Eddie! What the hell am I gonna do!”

Hands shaking, you clench your jaw in panic, trying to frantically come up with a way to rectify it. Eddie holds his hands up to you as if he were approaching a wild animal.

“Just calm down princess, it's only a skirt.”

Pouting, you hit him on the arm.

“It's not just a skirt! I can't work like this, how can I go home and change, I won't be able to fix it and-”

Eddie smiles and holds one of your hands.

“It's gonna be OK, we can sort something out. You seriously need to chill, have a big O or something.” He chuckles, clearly meaning for it to be a joke, but it's hitting too close to home.

It's never happened for you. You've kissed guys, sure, but whenever they reach into your pants, it's either uncomfortable or downright painful. Even your own desperate fumblings haven't got you there. Most of the time you just feel stupid and awkward trying to touch yourself. So, you'd given up, thinking you're broken. That it'll never happen for you.

Tears well immediately in your eyes. He knows he fucked up, it's written all over his face. As he opens his mouth to speak you rip your hand from his grasp and run to the restroom sobbing.

It's stupid, it's so stupid. You know that, but the tears won't stop falling, face hot and scrunched as you sit on the closed toilet seat with your head in your hands. Your breath is heavy, gulping and wet; you dimly wonder if you can just stay here until the shop closes.

There's a gentle knock on the door.

“Sweetheart, can I come in?” It's Eddie, voice softer than you've ever heard it.

“Go away” you manage. It's shaky and pathetic sounding, but it's out there.

“I'm not going anywhere. Talk to me, you'll feel better, I promise.”

He tries the door, turning the handle before you get a chance to lock it. Jumping upright, you go to push him away but he grabs your wrist and pulls you into him. His embrace takes away that edge and pretty soon you're just sobbing into his chest.

As he strokes the back of your head, he makes shushing noises, his other arm wrapped tight around your shoulders. You're not sure how long you stay like that, in the warmth of his hold, his body pressed against yours. The tenderness calms you down until your tears stop, but he doesn't pull away.

After a while, he whispers, “feel a little better?”

“Y-yeah,” you say, voice returning to itself.

Only then does he release you, rubbing a thumb under your eye to wipe moisture away.

“I didn't mean to hurt you. You wanna go somewhere and talk about it?”

“I- I've never- I don't talk about- I-” you shake your head as if to clear it. A part of you wants to hit him, to shout at him, but his gaze is so concerned that you agree. Your shoulders slump, losing a bit of tension. “OK.”

Smiling at you, he whips his flannel shirt off, leaving him in a white vest, and ties it around your waist.

“For your modesty. Come with me.”

Puzzled, you follow him out of the bathroom and back into the shop where Mac is sitting looking worried.

“What's going-”

Eddie interrupts, “emergency late lunch needed, alright? Can you cancel my 3 o clock?”

Mac seems confused, but looks at Eddie's earnest face, and your emotional one, and nods.

“Not a problem.”

“Thanks, man.”

Before you can ask where you're going, he pulls you from the shop by the arm and across the street into a dimly lit bar, depositing you in the nearest booth.

“I'll be right back.”

If he's uncomfortable by his appearance, he doesn't show it. The way he strides up to the bar, it's as if he owns the place. It's remarkable, the sheer confidence he embodies like a second skin.

“Hey, John!” He hollers, knuckles knocking on the wood of the bar.

John appears, a gruff, stocky guy with a buzz cut and a sour face.

“What the fuck are you doing here.”

“Oh come on, you know you missed me.”

John's face screws into something akin to a smile. “What do you want, you little shit.”

“I love it when you talk dirty,” Eddie grins and winks, “two beers please.”

A grunt and a nod, and John puts the beers down on the bar. As Eddie reaches for his wallet John waves a hand in dismissal.

“Put that away boy, your money ain't good here. Besides, your lady friend looks like she needs it.”

You flush and tear your eyes away, embarrassed. Eddie walks back over and puts a beer in front of you.

“Eddie, we're still working I-”

“It's one beer. It's alright.”

You shrug and take a sip, nodding at the bartender, “he knows I'm upset, do I look a mess?”

Shaking his head so hard it releases some of his wayward waves from their confines, he tips his beer at you, before he takes a long chug.

“No,” he says enthusiastically, “you look just as pretty as you always do.”

Scoffing, you turn your eyes downward. Eddie ignores your response, instead pressing on what happened earlier.

“Sorry again,” he says, sounding genuinely distressed, "I don't want to see anyone hurt from something I said, least of all you.”

Meeting his gaze, you smile incredulously. “Oh? And why me?”

“Come on, don't make me say it.”

Staring at him, you fold your arms in an act of defiance. He rolls his eyes and looks at you.

“I like you. You're uptight, and mean to me, and a little conceited, but I like you. I don't want you to hurt. Can we just be friends? I'm a pretty good listener, you know? I can help.”

Heat floods your insides. Eyes scanning him for any sign of a joke, you come up empty.

‘I'm not conceited,” you counter weakly, clinging on to the familiar push and pull.

“And I'm the Easter bunny.”

Giggling, you take another sip of beer.

“Come on, friends? Talk to me.”

Sighing deeply, you fix your gaze at the table, forefinger tracing patterns in the condensation from your drink. “Promise not to laugh?”

“I promise.”

You can't tell how genuine he's being, as you don't dare look at his face, nerves controlling your every limb. His voice seems honest enough.

“I- I have a problem, something I can't physically do. You reminded me of it. It's not your fault.” Shrugging in an attempt to make this look less serious than it is for you, you take a pull out of your beer bottle once more.

“Wait, are you saying…” he chuckles a little in disbelief, “have you never… had an orgasm before?”

“Eddie, be quiet!” You urgently whisper, looking around the bar.

“No one's listening sweetheart, no spies in here,” he says in a low tone, hand reaching out to grasp yours. Your first instinct is to shake his hand away but he holds firm, rough fingertips rubbing against your knuckles.

“Eddie, I'm broken,” you whimper, voice breaking, “I can't do it.”

“Oh sweetheart,” he responds, chock full of emotion, “you're not broken. You are perfect.”

Pulling your hand away, you keep your eyes away from his, unwilling to meet that burning gaze of his. Unwilling to lose yourself in those sultry dark eyes.

“I can't do it. Anytime some guy tries, it hurts. I've given up to be honest. I just wasn't made for it.”

He laughs again, dragging his hand over his face.

“Fuck, sweetheart, the problem ain't you. Have you- have you tried, fixing it, on your own?” The last part is a whisper, you assume to protect your feelings.

“Yeah, but I just feel stupid and awkward. I don't know.”

There's a little silence between you as you both dwell in the suffocating fog of your confession, neither of you willing to clear it.

“Listen, this may be way out of your comfort zone, but I'm saying it anyway. If you don't like it, we'll forget it, and I won't mention it again.”

Finally looking at him, at the vulnerability on his face, you nod, not trusting your voice.

“I can… maybe I can help you. Show you you're not broken? As a favour between friends.”

You laugh mirthlessly and finish your beer. “That's a little more than a favour, Eddie.”

“We can keep it professional.”

You stare at him wide eyed. His messy hair and dark glittering eyes. At the way he slumps in his seat like a king or a delinquent, you can't decide which. At his taunt frame, the tattoos spackling every available inch of his skin. Your eyebrows raise of their own accord.

“Professional? You?”

“Yeah, me! I can do it, you know. I could make you come.”

A shiver forces its merry way down your spine at his words.

“You're really confident.”

“You haven't seen what I can do.”

Blushing hard, you attempt to control yourself. “Look, if we're going to do this, I need you to promise some things.”

“Ah, of course, you would have rules,” he grins, as he leans back and spreads in his seat, “continue.”

Searching your mind for a moment, you try to glean what you need.

“First of all, we need to be discreet, and professional at all times, clear?”

“As crystal,” he grins wolfishly, “anything else?”

“Yeah- I think,” you wrack your brains, trying to come up with something that would make this less intimate. Anything. But the roguish nature of his presence makes it hard to even think of a thing. Finally, your eyes widen at the idea that suddenly crosses your mind.

“Final rule. No kissing.”

He pouts, looking at your chest and back up, “no kissing anywhere?”

“N-no, no kissing on the mouth.”

Grin returning, he winks at you, a gesture that flips your stomach inside out.

“Kinky. Alright, deal,” he leans forward to give his hand to yours. A hand covered in ink and calluses. Roughness and tenderness.

You shake it.

********************

For the next couple of days, your little arrangement isn't brought up. A wild thought hammers itself into your mind; either he wasn't serious, or you imagined it.

Those theories are put to bed on day three.

After you let Mac know about the flyers and the bonus poster you designed, you sit back and enjoy the praise given to you. It's funny, the feeling of being told a job has been well done makes you happier than you care to admit.

Eddie turns up at the counter, whistling through his teeth. “Sweet looking flyers, how'd you swing those?”

“I designed them. I've got a degree in design and marketing, if you didn't know,” you sniff, rearranging the stationary on the counter to avoid his eyes.

“Maybe you could help me design some for my band. These look pretty metal.” He says, picking one up and looking at it closely.

“Maybe.”

Eddie leans in close, so close you feel the warmth of his breath on your cheek.

“If you're still up for our arrangement, I'm free tonight.”

Heat immediately flushes your face. Ignoring him entirely, you write your address and a time on a notepad, and thrust the paper into his hands.

“Covert, I like it. See you then princess.”

By the time 9pm rolls around you're a jittery mass of nerves, having changed clothes no less than four times, tidied your apartment, changed the bedsheets and paced so much you're surprised there's not a groove in the floorboards.

In the end you'd decided on a baggy band t-shirt and your sleep shorts. It was a rational calculation to make Eddie think you're just wearing what you usually would at home and therefore show you're not nervous. I mean, you are wearing what you'd usually wear at home. He didn't need to know about how long it took you to reach that decision.

The sound of the intercom buzzing sends your pulse into overdrive. Pressing the button, you let out a strangled “Hello?”

“Hey princess.”

“Come on up.”

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck…

A soft knock at the door and you count to five, trying to remember how to breathe. When you open the door, you're stunned. He's leaning on the doorframe in a fucking button up shirt. It's black, and clings to him deliciously. His hair looks a little damp, loose around his shoulders, and his aftershave is making you feel dizzy.

“Oh, you didn't need- I mean-” you point at his shirt, and he looks down and chuckles.

“Just came from band practice. Took a shower, and this was clean,” he shrugs and shoulders into your apartment. “Nice place. Where's all your stuff?”

You look around at your sparse apartment. Everything in order, down to the fresh flowers on your tiny dining table.

“This is all my stuff,” you say, confused, “I don't like clutter.”

He chuckles, walking over to you. “No wonder I annoy you. I am clutter.”

He's close now, close enough so that you have to look up to see his face. His rough fingers ghost your arm, sending a wave of goosebumps over your skin.

“Nice seeing you in something casual. L7, right?” He asks, pointing at the t-shirt.

“Yeah, you know who they are?”

“I'm surprised you do. Thought you'd be a Mariah Carey kinda girl.”

You scrunch your face in distaste. “No, not at all. You don't know everything about me.”

He leans in, warm breath a whisper in your ear. “I know some things about you.”

Squirming hotly, you lead him to your room before you lose your nerve.

“So, the princess's bedchamber. It's nice,” he remarks, flopping down on the bed as if it were his own.

“Take your boots off,” you snip, folding your arms.

“Ah, there she is.” He smiles, but does as instructed. Once more he's laying back into your scattered pillows looking perfectly at ease. You, on the other hand, stand there, spine a vertical rod as you stare back at him.

“Come on then, sit down.”

Nervously you sit at the foot of the bed with your legs crossed.

“Now princess, what do you do when you touch yourself?”

Blushing furiously, you stammer out, “what, do you expect me to like, show you?”

He chuckles, diffusing some of the tension. “As much as I'd like that, I don't think you're ready for that kinda shit. Just tell me, what's your thought process?”

Staring at him for a little too long, you open your mouth and close it again. He rolls his eyes.

“Look, if you want me to help I'll help, but you gotta give me something here.” He looks as if he's about to get up and leave; your arm shoots out on its own accord, grabbing his leg to stop him.

“Sorry, sorry. I just, I've never spoken about this kinda stuff. I don't know about any process, I just… reach down and fiddle around?” You blush even more.

“So you don't like, watch anything? Or read anything?” He looks a little amused.

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“Porn, sweetheart.”

It's so blunt that you jump a little. “Oh no, I've never, oh no no.”

“Christ,” he whispers, “right, you can like, set the mood. Look at something to turn you on? It'd probably help you feel less awkward.”

“Oh. Right.”

“And do you ever just like, slouch? I feel like I'm back at school looking at ya.”

“Huh?”

“Just, come here.” He pats the little space between his spread legs and you hesitate for a second before you crawl over to him.

“How do you want me to sit, like cross legged or-”

He grabs your hips and spins you, forcing your back into his crotch.

“Stop trying to control every little thing,” he says in a hard tone, one you're too embarrassed to admit makes your insides tingle. Softer, he continues. “Look, if you're ever gonna get there you need to relax, stop trying to control it, and stop overthinking.”

“Great, all of the things I'm shit at.”

His laugh is loud, it vibrates into your spine. “I'll help you, OK? You trust me?”

“In a very limited sense of the word, yeah.”

“Lemme rephrase. You still OK to do this?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Just relax.”

You're not sure what you are expecting, but it certainly isn't his hands winding into your hair, fingertips rubbing softly at your scalp. It shoots tingles down your spine, your entire head feeling fuzzy and warm.

You stifle a whimper, biting your lip. His fingers stop.

“If you want to make noises, you can. Tells me I'm doing a good job. That goes for everything else too, alright?”

“Alright.” You whisper.

“You comfortable?”

“Yeah it's just- well-”

“Tell me.”

“I think it's your shirt buttons, they're digging into my back a bit,” you admit, feeling the sharp points down your spine.

“Easily fixed.” He taps your arm and you lean forward. Some rustling, and he throws his shirt to the foot of your bed.

“Now just chill sweetheart.”

His fingers begin rubbing at you again, thumbs sinking low to pop at the bubbles in your neck.

“Fuck, that's really nice.”

He hums appreciatively, working his hands lower and dropping them to your shoulders. The massaging continues, and you feel yourself melting, your body moulding into his. Your legs, once ramrod straight, have bent a little and parted of their own accord, the muscles loosening. Even your breathing has slowed.

“That's better, atta girl,” he says and you whine at the words, a little pathetic mewling sound that tumbles past your lips.

“Oh, you like that, don't you?” The smile is evident in his voice, a smug tone smeared liberally across each word.

“You, you're so-” you begin, but his hand drags across the front of your shirt, just over the tops of your breasts.

“I'm so what?” He whispers in your ear.

“So, so arrogant,” you huff. He laughs, a husky chuckle, and dances the tips of his fingers over your clothed nipple. Gasping, you grasp at his thighs either side of you.

“Yeah? What else am I?” He says, nibbling at your earlobe.

“You- you're cocky, and- and self assured- Oh God!”

Rudely interrupted by him tweaking your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, you swear, back arching off of him for a moment.

“You know,” he says in a gravelly tone directly in your ear, “those are pretty much the same thing.”

“You drive me crazy,” you huff, squirming a little against him as his hands explore your chest over your shirt.

“Good crazy or bad crazy?” He smiles, then bites softly at your neck.

“I- I haven't decided yet.”

“Good. I can say the same about you,” he admits, his hands trailing lower, pulling your shirt up so he can stroke at your bare sides. The touch of fingertips on your skin sends a river of sensations through you that run deep into your core.

“Are you going to- what are you doing, exactly?” You breathe, starting to move against him.

“I'm warming you up sweetheart. Why, don't you like it?”

Genuinely curious, you try to ask what you want to know without using the words.

“N- no, I do. Do you have to, erm, get warmed up? When you, you know.”

He lets out a little huff of a laugh. “Guys are a little less… complicated, than girls. For the most part.”

“Oh. OK, so you can just. I mean, you just, get excited?” Your breathing becomes more ragged when the tip of his thumb grazes the underside of your breast.

“Sweetheart, I got hard seeing you in these little shorts.” Running a finger down your stomach, he lightly pings the elastic of your sleep shorts as if to accentuate his point.

“Really?”

There's no denying it when he moves his hips up and you feel his solid bulge press into the small of your back.

“Really. Can I take this off?” He asks, twisting the hem of your shirt in one hand.

“Yeah.” It's a whisper. You're a little scared of being bare chested, but not having to see his face helps. Plus, he's wound you up so much you're on the verge of begging for his touches, pleading for more.

He guides your top up, up, up, revealing you slowly. Coaxing it over your head, you move your arms up so he can remove it. It ends up in a heap on top of his shirt. One tattooed arm wraps around your waist, pulling you toward him more, his hardness pushing against your ass.

His breathing is unsteady as he grinds his hips, pushing onto you further. Gasping, your fingers are vices, firmly attached to his thighs in a vain attempt to anchor you.

Suddenly his hand is winding into your hair, tugging your head aside so he can run a fat tongue across your neck. You shudder at the sensation, feeling the hard ball of his tongue piercing against your throat When he takes his pillowy lips and sucks at the spot between your neck and shoulder a moan slips out. Grunting in approval, his hands are on your bare tits, fingers pinching at your hardened nipples.

“Holy hell!”

He laughs, running rough fingers down your body, circling your new ink, then dipping down past your waistband. Those tattooed fingers barely brush your pubic hair, teasing you, then glide back up to your stomach.

“Eddie, please.”

Your voice is small, not your own. Eddie groans low in your ear, rubbing his length into the fat of your ass.

“Fuck, princess, I like you saying my name like that. You want me to touch you right here?” he says, pressing down hard over your clothed clit.

The sheer relief of having his touch where you need it gets you close to tears; a gulping shudder of a sob rips from deep in your chest.

“See, you're not broken, sweetheart. Can I take these off?”

Shaking, you hook your fingers into your sleep shorts and pull them down your legs, air hitting your most intimate area. Eddie huffs in your ear, his inked hands rubbing up the insides of your thighs.

“You're so fuckin’ sexy.”

Before you can retort, his fingers dip down to your entrance, gathering your slick. You can hear how wet you are, but it's not in you to think about it. You can't think, only feel.

When his fingers run up and start rubbing circles into your clit, your response is visceral. Bucking up, you chase the feeling, searching for even more.

“I'm gonna slip a finger in, alright princess?”

You nod, waiting for the pain, wincing before it even starts.

“It's OK, you're fine, you gotta relax baby.” He strokes your stomach with his free hand, pressing kisses to your temple.

The tip of his finger breaches you, and the pain doesn't come. Your soaking wet cunt invites him in, warm and pulsing with arousal. He slips it into the hilt, his palm pressing into your clit, and your moan is long and loud. It's never felt like this. Never has it stoked a fire in your gut, bubbled your insides like pop rocks and Coke, turned you into a writhing mess.

He fucks his finger into you, slipping a second in to join the first, and you move your hips, chasing the building tightness in your belly. Each thrust of his hand has you bucking, and in turn rubbing against his member trapped within its denim prison.

“That's it, good fuckin’ girl.” His voice is strained, as if he's trying hard not to lose control.

“Eddie, oh fuck, f-feels so- good, yes, please, please-”

You're not sure what you're begging for, and Eddie doesn't seem to be in any state to ask, but it doesn't matter. His fingers fuck into you in earnest, stroking hard against some spot inside that has you babbling and quivering around him.

“God, you're so tight, this little cunts gonna drive me crazy. So wet and perfect, Jesus Christ.”

The feeling seems too much and not enough, and it grows higher and higher, flooding your body with a pleasure so intense you're sure you black out. The only thing you're aware of is your voice screaming out his name as your body thrusts wildly into his grip. Finally, it dissipates, your body melting against his form, sweating and spent.

You take a breath, and another, trying to gather your wits enough to speak. Eddie speaks first.

“So sweetheart, everything you dreamed it would be?” He asks as he strokes your hair.

“Better. Fuck, Eddie. Thank you.”

“Anytime. Seriously. Any. Time. Day, night, weekends, holidays-”

You giggle, slapping his thigh, and sit up, grabbing your discarded shirt to cover up.

“Sorry, that was probably a little er, frustrating for you.” You say as you glance at his bare torso, drinking in the sight with your eyes for the first time. He's lean, but ripped, a faint sheen of sweating making his tattoos glisten in the low light.

“What do you mean sweetheart?”

“Well, doing that, not getting anything in return...”

He chuckles lightly, “Oh I wouldn't say that,” he glances down, gesturing to his jeans, “full disclosure, I came in my pants.”

“Really?” your eyes widen, staring at him with disbelief.

“I ain't lying. Wanna check?” He waggles his eyebrows at you, making you laugh again.

“You seem better already. Right, I better go.”

Shoulders deflating, you pout, “I suppose you better.”

“Hey don't look at me like that. I hoped that helped. Sleep tight, drink some water. I'll see you tomorrow princess.”

And just like that, he leaves. Of course he leaves, it was just a deal you struck, nothing more. A favour. you wipe stray tears from your eyes and try not to focus on the sound of the front door shutting.

As you collapse on the bed, exhausted, you think about his hands, his words. There's something screaming inside, telling you you're playing with fire, but as you drift off you can't find it in you to mind.

Taglist

@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @usedtobecooler @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n @choke-me-eddie @littlebebebunny @big-ope-vibes

#ms gexy writes #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x you #tattoo artist eddie munson #tattoo artist!eddie #teach me/show me Eddie #eddie my beloved #eddie x fem reader

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married-to-google-translater · 8 months

Text

Mc gets fed up with their money problems and starts selling hugs

Imagine what would happen if RSA found out about the MC hug business… Of course many of them would want to hug you. Because they have a crush to you too. They would like to support your business.

NRC boys would be really shocked and disappointed. They try to talk to you… But your response "money is money and either RSA boys also get hugs at the same prices or I will raise the prices." dosen't make them happy.

Each boy would have a different way of handling this situation.

Riddle would try to make a rule that would ban RSA boys from entering the NRC area.

Vil would try to talk to you. He would get tired of seeing Neige so often. And he thinks Neige doesn't deserve hugs.

Malleus would have trouble accepting that other NRC boys get to hug you. His reaction would be along the lines of "Yes you can hug MC….And I can curse your family for the next thousand years".

Azul would try to get you to sign a contract forbidding NRC boys from hugging… Or marriage papers… you can never be sure.

Sebek would have become even louder and judgmental. The crocodile boy is jealous.

Each student would attempt to mislead the MC whenever an RSA student was spotted on school grounds. They would certainly have their own monitoring system and watch shifts.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst x you #twisted wonderland x you #twst meme #twst memes #twst incorrect quotes #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #sebek zigvolt #sebek zigvolt x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #vil schoenheit #vil shoenheit x reader

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grandline-fics · 1 month

Note

Hear me out please, Cross Guild playing UNO with Y/n? 👀

DESCRIPTION: They underestimate you during game night

WARNINGS: i don't think any warnings are needed

CHARACTERS: Cross Guild

WORDS: 1,321

A/N: Thank you for this request! I had a lot of fun with this scenarion even though it was something different to come up with something. Hope you like what I wrote.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

————————

These game nights were a relatively new addition to the Cross Guild dynamic, a simple suggestion among some of the lower ranking recruits to pass the time but one made a comment on how it helped enforce partnerships while also being a safer way to get out frustrations of the day. You’d overheard them talking about their more recent game night and became curious, noticing how more relaxed and happier they all seemed between jobs. As you walked by the large set of double doors of the trio’s meeting room you heard the angered conversation and panicked begging from the other side. If anyone needed to get their frustrations out through different means and enforce partnerships it was those three.

With a sigh you left them to it, having no need to intrude in their ‘meeting’ just yet. After completing your duties you changed into comfier clothes and walked by the large communal lounge to the sound of playful arguing and laughter. Glancing in you saw the groups sat at tables, on floors, or the sofas. Everyone engaged in games or just watching in amusement. You noted even some of the higher ranks were mingling in the groups too. Still no sign of your Bosses though. With a small hum you reached into the cabinet where the games were kept and grabbed the first pack of cards you touched and left the others to their fun.

You’d made one more stop on the way before you were outside the double doors once again and rolled your eyes to still hear the same muffled nonsense that you’d noticed a handful of hours ago. With a sharp knock you entered. Crocodile and Mihawk glared towards you at the sound of your entrance but held back the beginnings of their yells or threats when they saw it was you. Still they weren’t entirely happy though. Slowly your gaze slid across them and then down at the chopped apart Buggy, meeting his pleading gaze for rescue. “Is there an emergency?”

“In a manner of speaking.” You replied walking towards the meeting table, lightly tossing the deck of UNO cards on the table before carefully setting the four glasses and bottle of whiskey beside it. “Call this an emergency workplace resolution meeting. Game night.”

“Absolutely not!”

“I’m not a child.”

“That’s not going to solve them threatening to kill me!”

“Well then consider this me resignation party.” You said with a simple shrug, silencing their refusals and whining while sliding into your seat, face calm as you poured your own drink.

Mihawk eyed you carefully for any sign of a bluff but still removed Yoru from its place near Buggy’s nose. Crocodile glared at you, teeth grinding into his cigar and removed his hook from Buggy’s back. With both threats of violence seemingly lifted Buggy gladly reassembled his body and rose from the floor, the only one to openly show worry at your threat. “You’d really leave?”

“What’s to stay for?” You asked, swirling the dark liquid with relaxed ease in the glass while smiling sweetly at the trio. “When I was hired it was to oversee the parts of this enterprise the three of you either lack the maturity or patience or general will to do and I do it exceptionally well. I was promised that I would not be bored in this job but quite frankly the three of you acting like homicidal children with each other is a bore. I’m not your nanny. So what are we deciding? Playing along or saying goodbye?”

Your question hung heavy in the room. None of the men were prepared to lose you. You were far too good at your job and your wage reflected that. They knew no-one else would be able to handle them individually the way you did while also achieving all of your duties effortlessly. The three of them exchanged looks with each other while you sat as relaxed as could be, leaving your fate in their hands. For the first time today the three Cross Guild leaders were unanimous in their choice. Crocodile poured his own glass and grumbled as he took his seat. “Deal the cards.”

“Still, UNO?” Mihawk remarked as he took his chair, reaching for a glass and the bottle once it was free.

“Like I said, you were acting like children. Needed to see you could handle a child’s game first. We can always move on to something else after?” You suggested with a smirk as you shuffled the deck and dealt the cards.

“UNO is fairer than other games, less chance for cheating.” Buggy muttered, pulling his cards towards him and the final glass.

“Aww come on boys, don’t pout.” You consoled the trio with a calm smile as they threw their cards on the table as you won. Again. “It’s just a game.”

“Stupid game.”

“You thought you going to win that one for sure, didn’t you Croc?” You asked with a growing grin while Crocodile glared harder, wanting nothing more than the skewer the entire deck with his hook. Still he couldn’t deny that this was the longest he’d spent in the same room as Mihawk and Buggy without any real animosity or desire to kill him. You on the other hand, he wasn’t best pleased with. More so because he hadn’t expected you to be capable of beating him like this. While it wasn’t a game like poker or blackjack, it was still cards and it stung a little but he couldn’t bring himself to be truly angry not when you proved your point. If anything he felt pride.

Mihawk was more relaxed about his losing streak, still a bit of a bruised ego but it was going to damage his reputation any. A little card game won out of chance and luck wasn’t going to rattle him. His mood was lighter, enjoying the way you showed a more playful and smug side of yourself now that everyone was getting along. As for Buggy he was delighted to feel safe with Cross Guild’s masterminds, he didn’t care if he was losing the game. In his eyes he was the real winner, that for once Mihawk and Crocodile were at someone else’s mercy for a change. “Another game or have you had enough?”

“It’s late.” Crocodile noted, finally catching sight of the clock on the wall. “We all have work in the morning.”

“Suit yourself.” You shrugged, sitting back in your seat. You would leave after you finished your drink. As you sipped your drink you lazily twirled one of the cards between your fingers.

“Next time we need a better game.” Mihawk stated as he slowly sipped his drink. You felt satisfaction grow as you silently listened to them plan when the very notion of playing a game was initially so ridiculous. Then the conversation slowed and you blinked to see three sets of eyes locked in on the card still being manoeuvred deftly between your fingers. One moment it was a green 3, on the next twist it was a yellow plus two, over and over it continued, always changing. A small laugh broke through your lips, deciding to finally put them out of their misery and show that you weren’t playing fair.

“Little cheat.” Crocodile chuckled. Buggy grinned and Mihawk smirked as you drained your glass and rose, setting the cards you’d had hidden up your sleeve on top of the pile of discarded ones.

“Goodnight gentlemen thank you for a not boring evening.” You thanked them with a smile and a wink and turned on your heel, leaving them with a soft hum drifting from your lips that curved upwards. All three of them watched you leave, each of them now looking forward to the next game night even more although whether they could get along with each other until then was another matter entirely but for you they’d try.

----------------------------------------------

TAG LIST (If I've missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld

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badgerbl00d · 1 year

Text

first dates with the one piece boys

☆ characters: shanks, crocodile

☆ up next: taking an aphrodisiac w/ one piece boys ft. ace, kidd, and law

☆ summary: first dates with shanks and crocodile, crocodile is kind of as asshole but he's whipped so like it's cute..., suggestive content

☆ a/n: i'm back! i'll try to post something else this week but uni is kicking my ass :p requests are open!

☆ 18+, mdni

shanks:

“Ready, sweetheart?”

You blushed, nodding as you tried to ignore the cheers and whoops that erupted from the rest of the crew on board.

Shanks shot a look over his shoulder and you were rewarded with immediate silence.

He placed a hand on the small of your back and gently guided you alongside him onto the island.

“Use protection!” someone called out. Definitely Yasopp.

“Ignore ‘em,” Shanks said.

“So you don’t wanna use protection?”

Shanks shot you a look, surprised at your quip, “No! Yes! I mean- well, no… We don’t have to y’know- Whatever you want to do ....”

“Very smooth, Captain.”

He laughed, bringing you toward him, and placed a rough kiss on the top of your head.

“Ya make me nervous, what can I say?”

Your chest contracted at this confession. You felt an embarrassing amount of pride watching him rendered so uncharacteristically bashful from your words.

You slipped your hand into his, giving him a soft squeeze, “Just cause this is a date doesn’t mean anything changes between us.”

“Well, we might kiss. And according to you we might fu-”

“Shanks.”

He laughed, louder this time, “Sorry, sorry. I think you’ll like where I’m taking you.”

There was a cool breeze making its way over both of you, giving you temporary reprieve from the summertime warmth the city was buzzing with. Overgrown trees and flower bushes poured into the lamp-lit streets.

You talked with each other, never a dull moment between the two of you, as you walked toward wherever Shanks was planning on taking you.

By the time you stopped walking, you’d made it to a much more empty part of town.

Shanks pointed to a sign on the corner, ‘Happy Hour 8 p.m. - 10 p.m.’

“A bar,” you mused, playfully rolling your eyes at him, “How surprising.”

He smiled and tugged at the strap of your dress, “Tsk, tsk. So impatient.”

He led you into the dinghy building, the wooden door damaged from what you imagined was years of drunk patrons spilling their drinks over themselves and their surroundings. The inside was dusty and it looked as though no one had used it for years.

“Your usual, honey?” Shanks asked, approaching the bar.

“Please.”

He smiled at you, “Yes, captain.”

God, he was handsome.

You watched Shanks ordering your drinks from where you stood, looking at his face through the mirror behind the bartender. You pressed your thighs together as a familiar pulsing sensation began coursing through your lower half. You accepted long before this date that it was beyond your control- he was just so handsome. He ran a hand through his hair, winking at you in the mirror. You blew him a kiss and though you couldn’t be sure in the dim light a pale blush seemed to spread over his features.

“One martini please, with three olives. And a Gin and Glamour.”

You shot him a look, Gin? You?

“Follow me this way,” the bartender said.

A smirk settled onto your captain’s face and he beckoned you toward him.

The bartender opened a tall door that seemed to lead to darkness.

“Enjoy,” he said. Curiosity had completely taken over and you led the way through the dark hallway, the faint sound of a bass being plucked echoing through, until you reached the end which was covered with a thick velvet curtain.

You pushed through, Shanks’ hand once again finding itself on your back, though much lower this time.

Soft, warm light lit up the room. Your eyes immediately jumped to the jazz band in the center illuminated by a red light. “… and in July, a lemonade, to cool you…,” the singer was halfway through "I Wish You Love". There were booths stationed around, with dark mahogany tables and wine-red velvet couches. Several other couples were spread through the bar, the soft buzz of background conversation filling the room.

“Shanks,” you gasped.

“You didn’t really think I’d take you to a shitty bar for our first date did ‘ja?”

“I’m going to choose not to answer,” you smiled, taking his hand in yours. For a split second your attention was taken away from the room you were in and you could only focus on the feeling of your hand in his- his strength apparent even without him trying.

“Must suck having to be the guy up front, huh?”

You giggled and pulled him toward an empty booth with a good view of the band, “I’ll say. Though I would like that martini.”

“How ‘bout you go sit and I’ll grab it for you, sweetheart,” he said, gently patting your ass as you turned.

With your drinks in hand, Shanks sat next to you, pulling you in closer to him. “Looks like we’re the only new couple in here,” he whispered in your ear, gesturing over toward a couple in the middle of a heated makeout session. You smiled at him, your eyes glimmering with mischief, “Hm, wanna try blending in?”

Shanks smiled, catching on to your request. You sipped your martini and bit an olive off of the toothpick that rested in the glass.

“We’ve kissed before, y’know.”

“We have!? I think I’d remember if we had,” he returned.

“No, no, we did,” you said, and he gave you a look that begged you to elaborate, “It was a few months back- when we did that stupid drinking contest. We were both pretty drunk, but I’d drank a lot less than you. Anyways, um, everyone had gone to bed or, I dunno, gone to find something else to do and we were left alone on deck. Unsupervised.”

You wiggled your eyebrows at him earning a laugh.

“I don’t remember it well, but I remember we laughed after. A lot.”

Shanks was smiling, resting his head on his hand as he gazed up on you. You averted your gaze.

He moved quickly and by the time you realized what was happening you were already sinking into the kiss, bringing a hand up to grab the collar of his shirt, anything to stabilize yourself.

Your heart was crawling up your throat, Shanks’ eyes were closed tight and he was clearly trying to savor every moment of the indulgent feeling of your lips against his. It warmed your heart that a man so feared on the open sea was reduced to a gentle, eager mess the moment he kissed you.

You leaned further into him and his arms wrapped around your waist, his hands palming at your hips. His facial hair tickled and poked your face earning a head-spinning giggle from you. Shanks pulled away, his breaths short and

“I want to tell you how long I’ve been wanting to do that but apparently this isn’t my first time kissing you,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

The jazz band had started a new tune, longer notes and the steady strum of the bass playing a rendition of Waltz for Debby, further amplifying the intimacy between the two of you.

“Hopefully you remember this one,” you said smirking at him, “Or do you need a more memorable one?”

“Are you asking to kiss me again? Or do you just want confirmation that you’re a good kisser?”

“I am a good kisser. Better than you, anyway.”

“HA! You don’t even come close!”

“So arrogant, Captain. But I’d love to prove you wrong,” you took another sip of your drink.

Pinching his cheeks between your fingers you pulled him toward you, this time savoring how he tasted. The bitterness of the whiskey on his lips coated your mouth as you slipped your tongue past his. Shanks’ breathing deepened and his fingertips sunk further into your hips- you could feel where you’d find bruises tomorrow morning. You brought a hand up to softly hold his throat and he moaned-

Oh god, he moaned!

You pulled away pupils blown and lips puffy.

Shanks’ cheeks were deep red, a sight that had your ego swelling.

“You know,” he started, breathless, “I think you may be right.”

You smiled and finished the rest of your drink, “Need more evidence?”

He smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead, running a hand through your hair.

“As a matter of fact, Y/n, I do.”

It was late when you finally found your way back to the ship. Shanks’ face was covered in red blotches of your smeared lipstick and your lips were equally messy. Your dress strap was falling off of your shoulder and Shanks’ shirt was plenty unbuttoned.

“Well,” he said, placing a kiss on the back of your hand, “Now you get to choose.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“My bed or yours?”

You laughed and wrapped your hands around his neck to bring him down for another kiss.

“Yours.”

(whipped!)Crocodile:

“You owe me money, Croc.”

“Let me take you to dinner.”

He reached for your hand, which you let him take.

He pressed his lips to it and started to trail kisses up your arm until you stopped him by pushing him off you and taking a seat on his lap.

“If I go to dinner with you will you give me my money?”

“You’ll get it either way, sweetheart. A job well done is a job well done. I just want to take you out.”

Liar, you thought.

But still, you took a second to think about it, letting him wrap his arms around your waist and rest his head on your shoulder, kissing your collarbone.

You were intoxicating to him, completely overwhelming all of his senses. He knew how unprofessional it was to involve himself with the assassins for hire he dealt with but this was now his eighth time working with you and though you always did a fantastic and clean job, the quality of your work wasn’t really the reason he was hiring you anymore.

“Where would you take me?”

“Desert Point. Or anywhere you wanted, really. I’ll cook for you if you’d like.”

You shifted in his lap, letting your thighs straddle his hips, and looked up at him.

He pulled out a cigar from his breast-pocket, which you quickly snatched from his hand, “I hate the smell.”

He put a hand up in surrender and placed the cigar back in his pocket.

Your eyes were focused on him, looking at his lips and trailing a finger up his neck. Your lips pouted as you considered his offer and the smell of your perfume filling every nook and cranny of his office and still, it wasn’t enough for him. He wanted all of you.

The two of you had, of course, had a handsy encounter or two and you were more than familiar with how he tasted after a long night of office work and whiskey. But, greedy and selfish as ever, the warlord wanted more. He wanted you. In the mornings in his bed, and at night by his side.

“Alright. You can cook for me, I suppose.”

He smiled, not even trying to fight the rare display of happiness.

“Any requests?”

You got up from his lap, batting away his hands which tried to grab you and hold you.

“Don’t burn anything. I’ll bring a bottle of that whiskey you like,” you said heading open the door to his office, “Tomorrow night at 7.”

Crocodile leaned back in his chair, savoring the lingering smell of you that had been making it difficult to concentrate for the past week, and waited until the click on your heels was far enough away to call Miss All Sunday and ask that she, “Please cancel all my appointments tomorrow.”

You knew Crocodile’s apartment well, having paid a few unknown visits and a few known ones. The last time you visited was after Crocodile had begged you to stop by for a glass of wine. You ended up drinking closer to five and neither of you could remember anything the morning after. You did, however, take note of the safe in his office where, if Baroque Works intel was anything to go off of, he kept the cash he used to pay black market hires such as yourself. Tonight would be a perfect opportunity to get your money, which you suspected he had no real intention of giving you.

Dinner had gone well and you found yourself in his office, lounging on his couch.

A jazz record played softly in the background and you’d both taken off a few layers of clothing. The only lighting was provided by a few candles he’d lit and you sat facing each other, each several glasses of wine in.

“Stay here for a while,” he said, softly rubbing up and down your leg which you had draped over his lap, “With me.”

“I have work, Croc.”

“I’ll hire you, full-time.”

“No offense to your…. staff, but their work is a bit beneath me.” He laughed, “Then I’ll fund your stay here. You won’t pay for anything.”

This interested you. Staying a week in the nicest apartment on the continent with Crocodile wasn’t such a terrible deal. You swished your wine around in your cup.

“Will you cook?”

“For you? Of course.”

You stared at him and pretended to pass the thought over as he kissed your neck and palmed at your ass.

“Give me a chance to convince you to stay.”

“How do you plan on doing that?”

A smirk settled on his face and he pulled you in for a kiss.

You indulged him and deepened the kiss, letting your tongue slip past his lips.

You giggled and sunk into his hold on you, his big hands holding you steady.

“I’ll stay, I’ll stay,” you buried your face into his chest, trying to fight the warmth in your cheeks.

The warlord squeezed you even tighter, earning a bout of laughter from you that placed a smile on his face.

“This is bad for your image you know. You’re getting soft,” you mused, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“I promise you I am anything but soft right now.”

“Ha. Ha.”

He wrapped a hand up into your hair, gently pulling back at the base of your neck so he had full access to your neck, and sunk his teeth in biting gently so as not to draw blood but not gently enough to avoid leaving a mark.

Your back arched into him and you mewled at the feeling, your nails digging into his shoulder.

He brought your head back up and kissed you.

You brought your hands up to his collar and began undoing his tie, leaving it hanging on his shoulders.

Slowly and without interrupting the kiss, you began undoing the buttons on his shirt. Crocodile leaned back into the couch to make your job easier and began undoing his belt, which you took from him.

Crocodile went to bring his hands back up to your neck but- they didn’t move.

He looked down and his belt was fastened around his wrists. He tried to tear it but you’d done a damn good job and he was rendered rather helpless.

You got up and, after placing a soft kiss on his forehead, made your way to the safe behind the painting on the wall.

“You said you’d stay!”

Not that it was much of a problem for him but Crocodile preferred when things went over smoothly.

“Did I? Hmmm,” you said, ear to the safe as you turned the dial listening for the telltale click that let you know you unlocked it, “I lied.”

Click!

“And if I make you stay? This makeshift restraint isn’t sea prism stone.”

You laughed and turned to look at him.

“Go ahead.”

He scoffed. You both knew well you were the last person on earth he’d ever harm.

“I’m gonna take my money and then some as a tip, alright? I will miss you though,” you said, making sure his arms were still tied in his lap.

He couldn’t help but smile as you turned back around to the very empty safe.

Your stomach dropped.

“Where is the money-”

“Like I’d keep it here, sweetheart. Especially not with you coming over.”

“You’re a thief. And a dirty one at that.”

“I’d take more offense if it wasn’t coming from you.”

You huffed and turned to his desk where you were quickly opening and closing drawers looking for where he’d moved the money.

“Come and finish your wine, Y/n.”

“It isn’t here, is it? You’re a liar and a thief,”

He stayed silent and gestured toward your spot on the couch, a satisfied smirk settled on his infuriatingly handsome face.

“Crocodile…” you warned, “I think you know better than to not pay me.”

He smiled, as though daring you to continue. Or what? the expression on his face begged.

“Stay the week with me,” he said as you approached, “Please.”

You took your seat next to him and looking down at his hands noted the very significant absence of a belt tied around them. Your heartbeat picked up as he used a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You’re good, sweetness, but I’m better.”

You sighed and let him kiss you, reluctantly leaning into his touch.

“You’ll stay the week.”

You nodded and were upset at yourself for feeling excited at the thought. You felt like a schoolgirl holding her crush’s hand.

“Shall we go to bed then?”

He smiled and picked you up princess-style, one arm around your waist and one under your knees.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed a kiss on his cheek, “If you keep this game going you’ll end up having to marry me, you know.”

He smiled, his most sincere smile of the night.

“Ah, wouldn’t that be terrible?”

#shanks #shanks one piece #red hair shanks #red hair shanks one piece #shanks x reader #shanks x you #shanks x y/n #shanks fluff #i love shanks i need him so bad #crocodile #crocodile one piece #sir crocodile #sir crocodile one piece #crocodil x you #crocodile x reader #crocodile x y/n #crocodile fluff #crocodile smut #badgerbl00dwrites

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cinnbar-bun · 8 months

Text

Affinity (Various OP Characters x Reader)

Characters: Brook, Buggy, Beckman, Crocodile, Zoro, Mihawk, Corazon, Shanks, Law

Rating: SFW

Word Count: ~4k

A/n: Reader is GN! I kinda made this after hearing about a special thing in my religion, and decided I wanted to do this. I of course made it more romantic in nature than the original idea goes, but hey, romance! I had my followers choose 7 originally but it went to 9, which is a very lucky number in my religion so maybe it was a sign? Who knows! Please enjoy <3

Tagging: @fanaticsnail @gingernut1314 @undeadeurydice @i-am-vita @kiribuchi @therosietoesy (sorry, I forgot who asked for Law my bad)

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There is a belief that before you are born, you were once a soul that had existed with other souls. Souls who had an affinity for each other would find that affinity carried in their time as a human. Souls who repelled each other would find that distaste carried over as well. Perhaps it was preordained, fate, destiny- whatever you’d call it. Regardless, it seems your soul has met with someone who once had an affinity for you…

Brook

Being an undead figure unable to pass on was not what Brook had in mind. In some ways, he was grateful for another chance at life, another chance to do what he previously was too dead to finish. Albeit, being a pile of bones did have its drawbacks.

While he could still function and do things many humans did, fact was, he was anything but. One look at him would easily make him stand out as something like a freak of nature.

Skeletons cannot love and be loved like a human. He could hold, but could not be held like a human. Admittedly, it had bothered him on occasion, but he always tried to brush it off with a simple hum or shrug. After all, he had his friends and crewmates- and he had a promise to continue fighting for. That should be enough.

But he couldn’t stop his eyes (if he had any) from wandering… couldn’t stop the way his mind wondered…

Just what could it be like if I too could fall in love?

Ah, but that’s such a silly thing for a skeleton to consider. Who could ever love the undead remains of someone long forgotten?

He’d practically given up on such silly notions like love or a relationship- it didn’t fit his current predicament.

So Brook focused on his music and his performances instead. He held up his violin and decided to waste some time on this sunny day playing for his audience of a few blue birds chirping at this green park. It was beautiful and reminded him of his day with the Rumbar Pirates- agh, nostalgia was always his weakest attribute, he thinks.

His fingers drift along the strings of the instrument, peacefully playing his weary heart away. He doesn’t recognize he has another guest until he hears slow clapping.

“What?” He turns his head, surprised to see you on the bench, smiling and clapping.

“That was lovely,” you comment. Time slows still and your eyes meet, shining (e/c) eyes with hollow black sockets.

If he had skin, perhaps he would’ve been red or sweating buckets. As a skeleton, he was not able to do things. But Brook was still a man through and through, and he couldn’t help but freeze at seeing the way your eyes were soft and full of admiration.

“I’m glad you thought so. Music is my pride and joy.”

“I can tell,” you reply. “I felt like I forgot to breathe for a moment when I heard that. I’m sorry for watching, though, if you weren’t looking for an audience.”

“N-no, actually it was…” he was too caught up in the way his soul was resonating and burning within him. “I appreciate it actually. Would you like me to play a song for you?”

“Would you? I’d love to hear more!”

Buggy

Buggy never believed in things like soulmates or fairy tales or blah blah blah- it was all junk! The only thing he ever could trust was treasure- shiny, bright, treasure! What else did a pirate need or want?

Is what he would say out loud- Buggy, even at a young age, was secretly a romantic who refused to let himself be swept up in the sentiment. When him and Shanks would sail together on Roger’s ship, Shanks would often ask what he thought about love.

Unlike Buggy, Shanks was pretty honest and confident about his assertions. Buggy would stumble and try to keep the bravado up, pretending as if he didn’t secretly yearn for a person who could look past his red nose and maybe possibly sorta kinda like him? Was that too much to ask? If you were Buggy, the answer was yes, because he would never allow himself the chance to be soft or vulnerable with someone. Especially not when he was already so sensitive about his looks and attitude. The thought of letting his guard down to be loved terrified him- what if they left? What if they made fun of him, too?

It was just too much for his fragile ego, so he brushed it aside and continued his hunt for treasure.

“Now where the hell am I?” He yelled, tilting the map in his hand left and right, as if that would somehow make his destination clearer. “Kinda crappy treasure map is this?”

He glared and shoved the map back in his pocket as he stomped around this town. He hadn’t ever bothered to come to this place before, so everything was new for him. He glared at the kids who were pointing at his nose to scare them off (mission accomplished), but his foul attitude still didn’t lessen.

As Buggy turned a corner, he accidentally rammed into someone. They shrieked, and his hat fell off his face and covered his eyes.

“Watch it, will ya? I’m walkin’ he…” he pushed his hat back up and came face to face with perhaps the most gorgeous person he’s ever met. His mouth was wide open, gawking at you as you gave an apologetic smile.

“Sorry. I didn’t see you there,” you said sheepishly.

“Y-yeah it’s… it’s cool. No biggie,” he mumbled in a daze.

“Are you alright?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” he returned to normal. “I mean, yeah, totally.”

You chuckle at his behavior, and something within Buggy’s chest makes it feel like there’s a million butterflies flapping inside his ribcage. He can’t help the dumb grin on his face as he laughs along.

“Sorry again, sir. I’ll keep an eye out for you next time,” you wink and begin walking away, making Buggy flabbergasted. N-next time? Was that a promise? He didn’t even realize what he was thinking before he turned around and tried to jog back to you.

“H-hey, wait up-!”

Beckman

Beckman was fairly ambivalent to the idea of a “soulmate” or “affinity”. Sure, he humored his often childish captain with those notions, but the fact was, Beckman was simply a sailor at heart. He didn’t think being “stuck” to someone was the life he wanted, and he was fairly sure a sane, rational person would not want to be the lover of a first mate to perhaps one of the most infamous pirate crews on the sea.

Now, this would imply you were sane and rational, and this would also imply that he was also not a sucker for you. Perhaps that was what made him attracted to you in the first place, or maybe it was something that gave him the idea that his captain wasn’t so off base.

When it came to you, Beckman was eager, a bit too eager, the others would joke. Whenever you called, he came running and answering like a loyal servant. Whenever you wrote, his lips would form a large smile while he refused to let the others look at the letter you sent. Whenever he was away from you for long periods of time, he drank a bit too much.

It was common place enough for the others to notice and tease him about, even if Beckman was adamant there was nothing there. You guys were just… friends, or something ambiguous like that. You didn’t need a label for your relationship. This was completely normal, you were normal, he was normal- nothing was out of the ordinary, so if they would please stop asking and make him confront those pesky feelings he-

Maybe he had a problem. He never felt this way for anyone else he encountered. You knew of his philandering, not seeming to care all that much, but damn it, even he couldn’t continue that streak because his mind would get occupied with you, you, you. Love was too complicated. Maybe this was the alcohol talking. Or Shanks getting in his head about “souls being attuned” or whatever spiritual jazz the red-haired captain would spout.

No, it really made sense, all things considered. There was no one else but you to make him quit fooling around with others on the islands he stopped at. There was no one else but you who invaded his thoughts, who plagued him day and night with those eyes, that smile, the way you hated that red cologne he once bought and-

Oh dear god, he was deep into this, wasn’t he?

Crocodile

Love? Spirits? Souls? Soulmates?

Yeah right, add that to the list of stupid things weak poets say to make their miserable lives have some meaning. You could jump through a million hoops to try and blame encounters and relationships on things like “destiny” or “fate”. To a man like Crocodile, however, “destiny” was just something he could control. Whether through bribes of money or through making them submit with his fearsome powers, “destiny” was nothing but another means of his affluence.

Only those who were weak and had nothing could not control their lives.

Something like love was a crutch used by those who had nothing to pretend they did. What was love to power? What was love to wealth? To fame? To greatness?

Love was the longest-running scam that Crocodile almost could be impressed with, if not for the fact that the sentiment around love made him want to gag.

Except, now he was actively looking for jewelry to buy you, flowers to deliver to your doorstep, and outfits to clothe you in for when you visited him.

It was almost disgusting how Crocodile was eagerly awaiting for your next arrival, for when he could be able to see you on the street or at his casino so he could see that face he adored so much. Those eyes that made him want to melt, that voice that echoed in his head, that smile that made him want to have an image of you adorned on his wall so he could always see it.

Something, he could never place what it was, drew him to you. Something made you seem to stand out to him in ways that no other could. He was Crocodile- world famous business man and pirate- he had no shortage of people throwing themselves at him or fearing him. Only to you was he trying his luck attempting to woo you to give him that look he loved. Only for you was he making excuse after excuse to continue seeing you, lying over and over that he had a reason to use you, that it was just a part of some master plan.

He exhaled another puff of his cigar and rubbed his temples.

Gods, why was he acting this way? He was Crocodile. Not a lovesick teenage boy, not some lonely man, not some simpering-

“Sir, (Y/n) has arrived.” His ears perked up as he quickly slicked back his hair.

“Is that so? Send them up,” he orders, grabbing his expensive cologne to spray onto him again.

Zoro

Zoro had never heard of the idea of soulmates or anything like that. When one lives, breathes, and dies by the sword, something like “soulmates” is just comical. He doesn’t need love to become the best swordsman. He didn’t need love to teach him how to pick up a sword and kill another with it. That was, in fact, the complete opposite of love.

Survival of the fittest, he thought. Nothing more, nothing less. You kill for bounties, bounties that pay, pay that gives you a chance to eat food. Nothing more to it. He never did more than he needed to, never worked harder for anything outside of his sword training and hunting. What else did a swordsman need to live?

He was currently drinking his fill at a local tavern of some random village he washed out upon. He didn’t care to get names, not when he was always moving, always killing, always leaving. “Zoro” was a passing chance encounter few got to ever meet or understand. He was fine with that. A bounty hunter didn’t need attachments. A bounty hunter definitely didn’t need someone weighing him down.

At the tavern, a few rowdy pirates were acting up. Yelling obscenities, throwing food and liquor at one another, making rude gestures- nothing out of the ordinary for drunk pirates. Zoro had no business with them, so he ignored them, continuing to order pint after pint.

It wasn’t until he heard a crash that he looked up. You were angrily yelling at one of the pirates who threw a drink at you, and his mates were drawing their weapons. It was clear you were outnumbered, so you looked around the bar for anyone that would help.

Normally, Zoro wouldn’t bother, figuring you dug your own grave by messing with pirates like that. However, when he glanced to your eyes, he found himself… staring. Lost. Entranced?

He didn’t know why he felt like he should protect you, but he always had a good intuition when it came to these sorts of things. He sighed, placed his mug down, then stood up, drawing his swords from their sheathes.

“Zoro,” he stated. A rare thing for him to admit so casually to a normal person. The pirates heard his name and shriveled up in fear. Zoro didn’t pay them any mind, instead tapping his sword against his shoulder impatiently. “Need me to shut these guys up?”

Mihawk

If you had asked a young Mihawk about love, he would have most certainly called you a fool for daring to think of such illogical things instead of focusing on one’s own strength and potential. While he had heard of the sentiments about love and soulmates before, he didn’t place much value into it. Love was a distraction from the training he could have done. Love was a waste of time. Love was just for weak-minded people who let themselves be vulnerable or gentle with another. Love wasn’t for people like him.

Which was why he was now trying to instill the opposite into his foolhardy protege, Zoro. Yes, yes, unfortunately, Mihawk was proven wrong from his earlier ways of thinking, and ever since then, he’s been doing his best to be a good man for you.

“I didn’t think a guy like you would have a partner…” Zoro would mumble.

“Of course I would. Do I not look like a suitable husband?” Mihawk replied as he was sipping his wine. “A marriage is only an aspect of your training and power.”

“How does cooking dinner help you train?” Zoro raised a brow, not believing a word.

“If you cannot handle a routine for even the most mundane and domestic of tasks, you cannot expect to be disciplined enough to train. If you think something like making your love a cup of tea or folding laundry is too hard or not worthy enough, you are not worthy enough to hold a sword.”

Zoro nodded, impressed by Mihawk’s reasoning (or maybe impressed at how you somehow made the world’s greatest swordsman so whipped and happy to make you dinner).

“Well, when you put it like that,” Zoro scratched his cheek, looking back at his mentor to see him staring at you longingly from the window. You and Perona were outside picking some of the vegetables at the garden, an activity you insisted upon doing despite Mihawk’s protests. You and the young lady were joking and laughing about something Perona said, and Mihawk sighed.

“Something wrong?” Zoro asked, unsure what Mihawk was thinking with his stoic appearance.

“No, not at all,” Mihawk shook his head, taking another sip.

“Then why did you sigh like that?” Zoro questioned. A smirk grew on Mihawk’s lips as he chuckled, continuing to look at you. You… you who were so special, who had become the apple of his eye, his strength, his joy, his passion.

“Oh, you wouldn’t understand it right now, my student,” Mihawk closed his eyes. “Fate is… it’s simply a humorous thing.”

Corazon

He always was a sensitive soul, despite his outer appearance and harsh exterior. But even as a child, Law could tell something was up with Corazon.

“Why are you always looking at them?” Law grumpily asked, folding his arms and raising a brow at his benefactor.

“Hm? At who?” Corazon dumbly responded, cigarette in his lips.

“You know who I mean! Don’t act stupid!” Law shouted. Corazon chuckled and exhaled the smoke.

“Sorry, gotta be more specific.”

Of course, Corazon knew who Law was referring to. It wasn’t like Corazon had hidden his affection for you, but that was for another time. You were something special, something that Corazon yearned for but could never have. Not when Doflamingo’s influence was so large and looming over his life. But even if Corazon himself could not love you so freely, he always did like to tell the young boy stories. Of course, Law, being a jaded little boy, had never really given thought to such things like “soulmates” or “souls knowing each other”. That was stupid and impossible.

Corazon liked to believe, though. It comforted him. It made him feel happy that, hey, even if this life perhaps didn’t work out for him and you, at least he had known you before. At least he was able to see you again. At least he got you in his life for a moment, even if it would end in nothing but heartache and pain. At he least, for just a bit, he got to see that smile, those eyes, and feel your hands over his.

It made his life a little less hard, a little less dull. The romanticism that despite Doffy meddling in his life, Corazon still had a chance with you, was meant to know and be with you… well, that was plenty enough for him. It made him happier, too, knowing Law was perhaps a soul he was acquainted with before. It made him feel like he was always going to be guaranteed love and kindness with you and Law, even if the world was unkind to him.

Yes, this new family he had found was perhaps where he belonged the most. With you and Law by his side, there was nothing more he could ask for.

Shanks

“You’re obsessed.”

“Am not!” Shanks yelled childishly at Beckman, before turning back to face the island they were planning on docking at soon. The wide smile on his face made it clear he was beyond excited to be there, and the other men chuckled.

“Don’t tell me you’re planning on running off to see em?” Yassop asked, knowing the answer.

“Oh, stop bugging about it! It’s just a little reunion with (Y/n), not anything crazy,” Shanks waved off. He breathed into his palm and winced at the smell of his breath. “Crap, does anyone have any mouthwash?”

“I don’t think anything can get that stench out. If they hadn’t run away cuz of your smell before, I think you’re good now!”

“Haha, very funny guys. Besides, it’s just between friends. Nothing weird.”

Of course, that was a bit of a fib, but who doesn’t tell little white lies? Surely he’d be forgiven for saying that by whomever was possibly in charge of making this happen?

Shanks, even with his overwhelming power and influence, did believe in superstition. It would be foolish not to, especially in such a dangerous world that a pirate inhabits. Sure, some of them were old wive’s tales from scared-straight sailors, but he did find them having some merit. He didn’t like to discount the seemingly impossible, not when it made even the most outlandish things possible.

He believed it was fate he got to meet Buggy and be a part of Roger’s crew. He believed it fate he met little Luffy in Foosha Village. He also believed it was fate he saved you that day. Some things just “made sense” like that to Shanks. It certainly made his life more interesting while also giving him a chance to bother you as always.

“Oh, come on, you can’t really kick out your soulmate, can you?” Shanks would tease.

“Soulmate?” You laugh. “Is this your attempt at proposing to me?”

“Hey, if you’d like it to be, I can absolutely make it happen,” Shanks replied, an earnest look in his eyes. You smile at him- crap, how do you always manage to make him ache and miss you? It’s gotta be fate, because no way could anyone have his heart in tight vice like this.

“Well… if you’re insisting, Captain,” you begin, smirking at him. “Why not take me with you? As your soulmate.”

Shanks’s eyes widened and the look on his face was a mixture of bewilderment and excitement.

“You know I can always make room for you,” he answered, trying to steady himself.

“Good. Although, we could share a room.”

“You drive a hard bargain, dear,” he chugs his rum. “Cheers to us!”

Law

Since he was a young boy, Law always tried to remain by himself. You couldn’t really trust anyone in a world of piracy and violence like that. Corazon, of course, always recommended otherwise. He even shared stories about a place where souls all were together.

It didn’t sound plausible or even remotely make sense. How would you even know if your soul was supposedly affiliated with someone?

It had been years since those days and the loss of Corazon, and even though he tried his hardest not to, Law still kept those stories in his mind. They were pointless and silly, but they were something Corazon believed wholeheartedly, even saying it was a miracle he got to meet a young Law. In some ways, Law felt somewhat similarly.

Love wasn’t for someone like Law. Too damaged, too cold, too logical, too afraid to ever let that feeling grow. It was how he stayed and remained for his life, and how he was planning on operating for the rest of time.

Until you, quite literally, crashed into him.

Jeez, you had to be a pest. Or a virus. Or a parasite. Something like that, but gosh, you were contagious. When you smiled, he found himself wanting to smile back. When you talked, he found himself thinking over every word you spoke in great detail. Maybe he was overthinking things, maybe when you said you were happy to have met him that was just you being friendly. Or something.

Almost always his mind drifted to you, feeling a certain way for you that he didn’t feel with the others in his crew or from the Straw Hats. You were different.

Perfect? Maybe. Definitely too good for someone like him, he’d think. But even with that self-loathing and apprehension, he found himself being drawn to you like a magnet.

Cora, if this is what you meant before…

Damn it, now he was letting things like soulmates and affinity cloud his judgment. He was a grown man, not a young boy, he didn’t need those silly delusions and ideas growing in his head and making him think he had a chance with you.

“Tora-o!” Luffy called. “Come here!!”

“No,” Law grumbled.

“Law,” you asked right after. “Do you mind helping me with this?”

“...yes,” he replied, stoically walking up to you to see what your problem was. Luffy gawked and pouted from the side, while a few of the others chuckled at Law.

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discordantwritings · 8 months

Text

Our Precious Assistant Pt. 4 (Cross Guild x Reader)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 4.5

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, gn afab! Reader, a man being a creep (don’t worry he gets what’s coming), canon typical violence, dom! Mihawk, dom! Crocodile, sub! Buggy, sub! Reader, oral, facefucking, PiV sex, choking, creampie

WC: 6k

Summary: You get the privilege of joining your bosses/ partners at a gala event- purely on a precessional level (unfortunately). But when someone thinks that they can be rude to you- touch you even- it’s time to remind everyone of how terrifying each member of the Cross Guild is.

Notes: oh man this is the longest part yet (which is only a small part of why it took so long I can’t really lie). I hope the wait is worth it and that you too love these pirates being violent

You had seen the invite to the gala before Crocodile showed it to you in his office. All three leaders of the Cross Guild had received an invitation to this gala- a premier event for the criminals of the sea. You thought nothing of it as you slipped them into everyone’s stacks of papers. They got invites to events all of the time but almost never accepted, Buggy being the only one who would show face consistently. So when Crocodile calls you in and slides the invitation across his desk to you, you’re confused.

“It arrived this morning, I assume you are going to turn it down but I didn’t want to send it back before you all agreed that you weren’t going.” You turn the invitation towards you, admiring the minimalist graphic style.

“You know me so well.” Crocodile smiles as he leans back in his chair. “And normally I wouldn’t go but I got a call from an old colleague who says he might have some information for the guild. He’s going to be there so it makes sense if we go.”

You nod and pick up the invitation, slipping it into your clipboard. “So just you or will Buggy and Mihawk also go?”

“All of us are going. And if you are interested, you should come along with us.”

“As… your date or as your assistant?” You’re caught off guard. While the four of you have no problem here at the office, you’ve put in work to make sure no one outside of the Cross Guild knew any of you were involved. It didn’t upset you at all- you knew how much danger you were in simply from being their assistant, being their significant other would be a huge point of vulnerability for them. Not to mention what people would think if they found out the leaders of the Cross Guild were romantically and sexually involved…

“As our assistant. But we do want you to be included.” Crocodile confirms your thoughts and you can’t help but smile when he says he wants to include you.

“Well I can’t really say no to something a part of the job can I?” You tease.

“No, I guess you can’t. Oh and tell Buggy to take you shopping, he knows what will match with our formal outfits.” Crocodile is already back to work and you leave his office with a bounce in your step. You go right to Buggy’s office, knocking once before entering.

“Who is it-“ His voice is annoyed before he sees it’s you and when he does his entire demeanor shifts. “My favorite assistant!”

“Your only assistant.” You walk over to where he’s sitting- that ridiculous green sofa- and place a kiss on his cheek.

“Please don’t tell me it’s more things I have to sign.” He eyes your clipboard and you shake your head.

“Actually it’s something fun. I’m joining you guys at that gala in a week and Crocodile says you need to help me pick out an outfit.” Buggy lights up at the prospect, flinging whatever he was working on across the room.

“Buggy- not right now you have work to do.” You remind him and he deflates. You pat him on the back. “But sometime this week ok we will make a date.”

“Fineeeeeeee.” Buggy detaches a hand to grab the paperwork he flung across the room. “But Mihawk and Crocodile can’t come they make shopping no fun.”

You think shopping with them could be fun for you, but with how they treat Buggy? It’s probably just another form of torture for him. Sure, torture that he signs up for and likes, but torture. You know Buggy’s schedule so you pencil yourself in for an evening later in the week and leave him to work.

Even though you are going as their assistant there is still a thrill knowing you’ll get to be with them at an event like this. Just being a part of their lives and worthy of being in the public face filled you with a sense of pride. You go through the rest of the week with a spring in your step as you daydream about what the gala will be like.

Shopping with Buggy was a crazy evening. He has a deceptively keen eye for fashion and after trying on countless outfits at dozens of stores the two of you finally agree on an outfit. It’s sleek and black- made out of a shiny silky fabric that is smooth against your skin. The silhouette is simple but well cut and tailored to the planes of your body. Your accessories are all gold, the accent color that Buggy said the rest of them would be wearing. The whole thing together makes you feel rich and regal. And since Buggy was footing the bill you don’t have to worry about how crazy expensive everything probably is.

Before you knew it you were putting on that outfit for the event, pacing your living room as you wait for your boyfriends to come pick you up. You have to tap down some of your feelings though, you know how important it is to not outwardly show your relationship with your bosses. But that all goes out the window the second you hear a knock on your door. Bolting to the door and trying not to trip in your dress shoes you throw open the door and see your boys all dressed up.

It’s not a big leap for Crocodile and Mihawk but it’s still a change. Crocodile has traded his normal vest and cravat in for a simple black three piece suit with a black button up shirt. A dark green tie sits around his neck while all his accessories are still his trademark gold. Mihawk has ditched his typical coat, trading it in for a long tailed suit jacket around his mostly unbuttoned white shirt. You can see in the lining of the tails a rich gold fabric that matches his eyes.

And then there is Buggy. You half expected him to be in a regular clown outfit but he had actually gotten put together himself. He was wearing pinstripe suit with a shiny gold vest underneath and his white gloves had been traded in for black ones and his hair was up in a ponytail. In his hands he held a comically large bouquet. All four of you spend a few seconds just staring at each other and you blush under the gaze of all three men.

“I mean I know I saw you in this before but- damn.” The second those words leave Buggy’s mouth Mihawk slaps him upside the head.

“He means you look ravishing.” Mihawk says, his golden eyes piercing through you.

“Well, you three don’t look so bad yourself.” It’s hard not to stare at them in their well tailored suits and you can feel your gaze dragging over their forms as well.

You see Crocodile check his watch and sigh. For a second you wonder if you’re behind schedule but Crocodile explains his thoughts. “We should have budgeted some time to ruin you.”

Your face heats up at the casual way he says and you grab the bouquet from Buggy to hide behind. “Next time.”

“Next time.” Crocodile is happy with your answer and you quickly run back into your place to put the bouquet in water before joining them outside the door. Buggy links his arm through yours and you feel Crocodile’s hand at your shoulder as you follow Mihawk out.

The travel was short and filled with planning- who they were actually going to talk to, when they would do their actual meeting, and then what time they were leaving. While they talked you leaned on Mihawk’s shoulder while Crocodile had his hand on your knee. You soaked up the bits of intimacy knowing you’d have to keep to yourself for most of the night. Well. Buggy could probably get away with some occasional touches and no one would bat an eye, but that’s besides the point.

You peel yourself away from Mihawk and Crocodile as you arrive at your destination. A large white mansion stands before you, warm lights illuminating the stone. Chatter fills the air as some other attendants hang outside, most casting curious glances towards your arrival. It gave you some relief that most were looking at your bosses and not you as you followed closely behind the three. That’s the good part, you suppose, about being around three of the most powerful men on all of the seas. You don’t have to worry about anyone bothering to judge you.

You follow only a pace behind the three of them as they walked into the mansion and once again, you were in awe. Enormous crystal chandeliers hung in high vaulted ceilings, warm lights scattered across the wide ballroom space. Almost everyone you see is someone important and if you hadn’t been dealing with your bosses for as long as you have you would have been much more nervous just entering the space. You still find your heart skipping beats as you do your best not to attract unwanted attention.

Almost immediately you spot the man Crocodile came here to see, a spindly middle aged man scurries over in a suit so ill fitting you can see Mihawk cringe. The kind of man you don’t want to look at in a room full of powerful and attractive people- which you suppose is the goal if you’re an information broker.

“Sylas.” Crocodile greets the man with a simple nod.

“Sir Crocodile it is so good to see you after such a long time you know-“ You tune the man out as he rambles on, you realized early on in your job that people take any opportunity to endear themselves to your bosses with probably made up stories or long forgotten memories of the one time they met. Luckily your bosses never really put up with small talk for too long.

“Do you have a room where we can talk business?” Crocodile cuts Sylas off mid sentence and you see the other man quickly adjust.

“Yes- yes of course uh- right this way.” Sylas begins walking off towards the far edge of the ballroom and Crocodile trails behind him. Buggy grabs a flute of champagne from a nearby tray, downing it in one gulp before running after the two.

“Have a good time, we will meet up again once this business is over.” Mihawk says with a flash of a smile before striding away, leaving you alone.

You stand there for a second, trying to figure out your next move. You hadn’t expected them to take off so soon so you adjusted your night in your head and decided to follow Mihawk’s guidance. You were going to have a good time. Which, of course, starts at raiding the snack table.

You fill up a plate with as many hors d’oeuvres as you possibly can. Small savory pastries, cured meats and cheeses, and fruits and vegetables prepared in ways you’ve never seen before are all stacked carefully on your plate as you make your way over to an unoccupied table along the edge of the ballroom floor.

Snacking away happily, you watched pairs of elegantly dressed people dance across the floor to a live string quartet. This was the kind of scene you imagined in your childhood, you were almost surprised scenes like this actually happened. A part of you longs to be able to be out on that dance floor with your partners- Buggy and Mihawk would be great dancers you bet- but you push that feeling down with another small block of cheese.

“Is this seat taken?” A voice from your side startles you, and you look up to see a well-dressed man smiling down at you. His blond hair is short and slicked back, not in a way you find particularly attractive but not so offensive it’s ugly. Overall he looked very painfully average.

“Oh- no, feel free to sit.” You weren’t going to be rude to anyone here- you don’t know who this person could be connected to and even if you don’t hold a powerful position you were still a representative of the Cross Guild tonight.

He takes a seat directly next to you and props and elbow on the table. “I’m just surprised to see someone so gorgeous sitting alone at a table looking so dejected.”

“Oh- I mean-“ You’re a bit embarrassed that it showed so clearly that you were missing the presence of your boyfriends but mostly you’re knocked off guard by the flirting. It had been a bit since anyone but your partners flirted with you. “Thank you.”

“I’m sure I could cheer you up with a dance?” He leaned in a bit closer and you felt yourself leaning away.

“Thanks, really, but I’m fine right now.” You hope he drops it- but of course he doesn’t.

“Why not? You waiting for someone? Cause where I’m sitting you were left all alone. Not very smart.” His words send a slight panic through you.

“I’m just not in the mood.” Your tone drops, no longer being nice and trying to let him down easy.

“Oh come on don’t be like that.” His smile is nauseating.

No longer in the mood to even be around him you stand up to leave without a word. You only make it a few paces before you feel a strong grip on your wrist yank you back.

“I said- don’t be like that.” You turn around and see him glaring at you- this is a man who has clearly not been told no many times in his life. His grip is strong though, and you feel his fingers dig in deeper as you try to yank your arm away. You’re only vaugley aware of the small scene being created as you stop trying to pull away, realizing you won’t beat him in a strength contest.

“Let me go.” Your voice is low and even- a threat.

“And what are you going to do about it?” His smug grin has you seeing red.

One of the many benefits to being in a relationship with three incredibly powerful men is that all of them had taught you how to defend yourself. After all that practice it was surprisingly easy to use his grip on you to yank him closer, throwing him off balance. Finally at this distance you want him you kick your sharp dress shoe up- right into his crotch. He doubles over in wordless pain and as his grip leaves your wrist you throw out a quick jab, your fingers hitting him directly in the throat. Only able to keep himself upright for a second he collapses to the ground at your feet.

“Hey- woah what’s the scene-“ You’re vaugley aware of Buggy’s voice and you look up to see him pushing his way through the crowd that had gathered around you. As he finally reaches the inner circle he locks eyes with you. His gaze flickers down to the man on the floor for a second before coming back up to you. He realizes what happened.

“And that’s what happens when you step up to any member of the Cross Guild. Even our assistants are fearsome fighters!” Buggy is by your side in a flash, hand around your shoulder, showboating you around. As he does so though, he leans in close and whispers. “Wanna go home?”

You nod and by that time Mihawk and Crocodile have split the crowd themselves and are looking at the scene. Something is wordlessly exchanged between the three of them and Buggy pushes you to Mihawk, who places his hand lightly on your shoulder. You let yourself be guided away from the crowd, not looking back to see how Crocodile and Buggy are going to handle the situation.

The trip home is fuzzy, you know the second you were away from prying eyes Mihawk had pulled you into his side but your mind was unfocused. You really don’t snap back into your body until you’re back in your shared bedroom and sitting on the bed with Mihawk. His slender fingers delicately pick up your wrist and he holds it up to look at it. You see the bruises starting to form and Mihawk frowns.

“We shouldn’t have left you alone.” His fingers slip from your wrist to your hand, intertwining with your own.

“Well- I mean clearly those fighting lessons paid off.” You joke, but your heart isn’t really in it.

“I should have never put you in the position where you had to use them.” His other hand rests on your knee and you can’t help but lean into him, your head on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry I caused a scene.” You mumble, still embarrassed at how many people saw what happened.

“Hey- look at me.” Mihawk shifts to face you and you look up at him. “None of that was your fault. It’s that lowlife’s fault for thinking he could lay a hand on you.”

“I know I just- I feel bad that Buggy and Crocodile have to go and smooth everything over…”

Mihawk looks confused and you tilt your head in equal levels of confusion. “Love, they aren’t smoothing things over.”

“What do you mean?”

“They are making an example of that man. No one gets to touch you like that and get away with it.” You’ve been around all of them long enough to know exactly what ‘making an example’ really means. They were turning that guy into a bloody pulp.

“Oh.” Is all you can manage, working through the image of Buggy and Crocodile torturing that piece of shit. It should disturb you on some level, you know exactly how much violence these men hold inside them, but for some reason it doesn’t disturb you at all. A sick joy fills your chest as you imagine the scene- Crocodile’s hook through the man while Buggy’s various daggers carve into him.

Maybe you’ve been around them too long, but honestly you don’t care. You’re not sure you’ve ever felt so loved before.

“No one gets to hurt you.” Mihawk pulls your hand up and places a delicate kiss on your wrist over the forming bruises. “Not without consequences.”

He continues to kiss around the darkening marks, taking his time to reach every area of effected skin. The contact and the thoughts of violence still at the edge of your thoughts make your head feel light and fuzzy- in a good way this time, unlike the dissociation you were plagued with earlier. Mihawk presses a kiss to your pulse point and smirks into your skin.

“Your heart is racing.” He states it as a fact and holds your arm out a bit straighter so he can kiss his way up your forearm to the inside of your elbow. He slowly works his way upwards until he’s stopped by the fabric of your clothes. Pausing for only a second he gently pulls you closer, nuzzling in under your jaw and lightly nipping the skin there.

“Mihawk.” You say with shaky breath, your hand gripping his shoulder.

“Yes my love?” He pauses only for a second before continuing to cover your neck in kisses.

“More- please-“ Your fingers dig into the expensive fabric of his jacket, slipping as he sits up.

“Whatever you want.” He places a kiss on your cheek before turning his attention to delicately disrobing you. Deft hands carefully took off your expensive clothing, moving painfully slow as his hands wandered over every new exposed expanse of skin.

He’s careful with your clothing- a contrast to Crocodile and Buggy who you’re confident would have just ripped it off your body with little thought. Not that you would have minded but there’s something about the way he treats the fabric (and you) so delicately that has heat pooling in your stomach.

It’s not long before you’re naked and laid out on the bed, breath heavy from just the act of him undressing you. Mihawk hasn’t done the same for himself, only having taken off his jacket and shoes. You feel the lavish silk of his white dress shirt drag up your body as he crawls over you. When his face is finally level with yours he pauses and you get a few moments to stare up at him, appreciating the sharp lines of his face and bright gold of his eyes. But the few moments are quickly over as he presses his lips to yours.

Mihawk has always been the slowest out of your three partners. Buggy is always needy and Crocodile has never quite learned how to be truly patient. Mihawk on the other hand? It must be something in his swordsman training that led him to understand pacing and the virtue of being slow. It’s minutes of deliberate kisses before Mihawk’s tongue presses to your lips, pushing in and tangling in your own. Every movement is purposeful as you let him take over your senses with just a kiss.

You’ve lost track of time when he finally decides to move lower, kissing a path down your neck, on the ridge of your sternum, over your stomach, and finally down to your pelvis. He still takes his damn time there, sucking bruises into your inner thighs as your hands grip into his pitch black hair.

“Thought-“ You whine as he nips lightly at your delicate skin. “Thought I was going to get whatever I wanted.”

You see gold eyes look up at you, a mischievous spark playing in them. “Well you have to ask first.”

“Mihawk please-“ Your fingers grip tighter in his hair but he’s unfazed.

“You know I’ll do whatever you ask.” His chin rests on the top of your thigh now, fully waiting for direction.

“Just- eat me out- please.” You voice is breathy and whiny.

“Whatever you ask.” And in a blink his mouth is on your folds, right where you need him.

He’s precise and deliberate in every single one of his movements. His tongue swirls around your clit while his long fingers hold your folds open. He alternates between swirling and sucking, working at a languid pace that keeps you near your peak of pleasure without ever tipping you over. It’s not frustrating though, you find yourself getting lost in the high and forgetting all about the unpleasantness of the night. Your world goes fuzzy as Mihawk takes you apart, so much so that it takes Mihawk stopping his movements to realize the bedroom door has opened.

“Now this is a good welcome home.” Crocodile’s deep voice sounds from the doorway and your brain finally catches up as you turn your head to see him and Buggy.

Crocodile had lost a few layers since you last saw him; his jacket, vest, and cravat missing leaving him in only his dark pants and white shirt. His hook was slick with blood, dripping down onto the dresser where he sets it down after he takes it off his arm. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and you can see splatters of dark blood on the white fabric. A single piece of his black hair hangs in his face as he flashes you a wide predatory grin.

Buggy is much more disheveled. His jacket is gone and his shirt is close to soaking in blood. His face paint is smeared and his shirt has been untucked from his pants and as he waves at you you see only one glove is still on his hands.

“You like that don’t you?” Mihawk has crawled up your body again, voice in your ear.

“Hm?” You don’t look away from Crocodile and Buggy as they kick off their shoes and accessories.

“Seeing them all bloody.” Mihawk’s fingers play at your folds. “You got even more soaked when you saw them.”

As much as you didn’t want to admit it- yes. There was something so primal about seeing those two fresh from violence- violence they enacted for you. You didn’t think your boyfriends could get any hotter but seeing them covered in blood has your cunt throbbing for them.

“Buggy here actually did a good job for once.” Crocodile’s hand grips Buggy’s waist and pulls him in. “Even I gotta admit he’s damn good with those daggers. Even if he’s messy.”

“I mean- I had to make it a good show.” Buggy laughs nervously but it’s quickly swallowed by Crocodile shoving his tongue down Buggy’s throat. Now you put together that most of Buggy’s disheveled look was because Crocodile couldn’t keep his hands to himself on the way home. Seems like you weren’t the only one getting off on the violence.

You were enraptured watching Crocodile kiss Buggy, his hand at the back of Buggy’s neck holding him in place. You feel Mihawk’s grin against your neck.

“How about you show them how thankful you are?” He whispers into the shell of your ear and you have never heard a better idea.

You push yourself off the bed and walk over to the pair and eagerly sink to your knees in front of them. Crocodile pulls away from Buggy to grin down at you, his hand coming to pet your head.

“What’s this?” Crocodile’s hand travels from the top of your head down to your chin, fingers titling your head up to look into his eyes.

“I want to say thank you.” You smiled up at him, Buggy already fiddling with his belt in your peripheral vision.

Crocodile’s thumb left your chin to press at your bottom lip and you open up, allowing him to push his thumb into your mouth. You open your mouth wider as you swirl your tongue around the digit, letting him get a good view of you work. He chuckles as he watches you, pupils blown out in desire.

“Always so good for us, aren’t you?” Crocodile slides his thumb out of your mouth, leaving a trail of saliva down your bottom lip to your chin. “Go ahead, say thank you.”

Your hands immediately fly to his belt and as you work it open you cast a glance to your left to see Buggy still standing close. His pants are down and he’s holding his cock at its base while Mihawk whispers something in his ear. You can make out what he’s saying but it’s clearly effecting Buggy as you watch the way his dick twitches in his hand.

Finally through the belt and fly you pull Crocodile’s pants down, his cock springing up after being released from its confines. Waisting no time you lick from his base all the way up to the tip before taking just his tip into your mouth. You’re messy, letting saliva drip down and coat his length to ease the way for your hand to slowly pump up and down what wasn’t in your mouth. Out of the corner of your eye you see movement and you look up to see Buggy trying to move away but being held in place by Mihawk.

“For once Buggy you’ve actually earned some attention, isn’t that right?” Mihawk smiles down at you and you pull off Crocodile, nodding.

You lick your palm and gently move Buggy’s hand off himself, replacing it with your grip. Glancing up at Crocodile, you check with him that it’s alright to divide your attention and he gives you a small nod.

“Come a little bit closer Bug.” He listens (or Mihawk pushes him) and stands hip to hip with Crocodile, angled in to give you better access.

You press sloppy kisses at the base of his cock, making sure to keep steadily pumping Crocodile while you do so. Your thumb collects the precum gathering at Buggy’s tip and you pull away to dramatically lick it off your thumb. Buggy is transfixed but nervous, his hands clenching and unclenching by his side.

“Buggy?” You look up at him, eyes wide to play with your faux innocent tone.

“Y-Yeah sweetheart?” His voice is breathy.

“Aren’t you going to accept my thanks? You did such a good job…” You nuzzle your face along the side of his cock, letting his tip slide up your cheek.

“Fuck.” He breaks your gaze to look at Crocodile, still fearful of breaking the regular order of how things work.

“Don’t be ungrateful.” Crocodile warns and that’s all that Buggy needs to take his still gloved hand and fist it in your hair. You hear Mihawk chuckle and see him move away, sitting on the bed to watch the show.

Finally satisfied Buggy will actually enjoy the experience you take him into your mouth, tongue flattening as you swallow most of his length in one go. The grip on your hair tightens and Buggy swears above you as you suck up and down his length.

“Alright, back to me now.” A second hand grips the back of your head, pulling you off of Buggy and shoves your face back in front of Crocodile’s cock.

You let Crocodile guide your mouth onto his length and push you down till your nose is pressed up against his skin. He holds you there until you gag and then pulls you off again, spit connecting your mouth to his dick as you gasp for breath. Just as you catch it it’s Buggy’s hand that redirects you back to him, following Crocodile’s actions and pushing you eagerly down his length.

They trade off like this for a while and you relish in letting yourself be used like this, thoughts leaving your head as the two of them fuck your face. Buggy is the first to crack, hips stuttering and a high pitched whine leaving him as Crocodile pulls you off his length.

“Shit-“ You see his ungloved hand clamp around his base and his eyes screw shut, clearly trying to stave off his orgasm.

“What do you think Crocodile?” Mihawk’s slightly amused voice sounds behind you.

“I think he gets a treat.” Crocodile’s hand leaves you to grip the back of Buggy’s neck, pulling him closer to Crocodile so he can nip at his collarbone. “For once you deserve to cum first.”

“Y-Yeah?” Buggy’s eyes shoot open, flicking between you and Crocodile.

“Where do you want to cum Buggy?” You shift so you’re fully facing him, smiling wide.

“Fuck I- shit-“ Buggy’s mind races as Crocodile licks up the column of his neck to his jaw. “Face- Please-“

“Good choice. Go on, make a mess of that pretty little face.” Crocodile says in Buggy’s ear, grinning down at you.

You let your mouth hang open as Buggy furiously pumps his length and as his breath hitches you let your eyes fall closed and feel stripes of cum hit your face and tongue. You crack your eyes open when you feel the tip of Buggy’s cock smear his cum over your lips and you fight the urge to close your mouth and swallow what’s on your tongue.

“Now that’s a sight.” Crocodile’s hand comes down to your chin and tilts and turns it to get every angle. “You can swallow now.”

With permission you finally close your mouth and get rid of some of the salty taste. Crocodile’s pointer finger comes up and drags up your cheek where some of Buggy’s release landed and collects it. You expect him to bring it to your mouth but instead it comes up to Buggy’s.

“But you can help clean up, can’t you?” Crocodile grins almost maliciously but Buggy has no problems opening up and cleaning off Crocodile’s finger with his tongue.

Transfixed by the scene you don’t notice Mihawk until his hand is on your shoulder and you look up to see him with a washcloth in his hand. “Someone has to actually clean up.”

The warm, damp washcloth feels good on your face and you are very appreciative of Mihawk not letting you feel too dirty for too long. When he’s done he pulls you up to your feet, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he leans in to whisper in your ear.

“Now Crocodile’s reward, what do you say?” You nod and eagerly get on the bed. On your hands and knees you arch your back, pressing your chest to the sheets as you held your ass in the air.

Crocodile passes Buggy over to Mihawk before stalking over to you. You always felt like prey under his gaze and it thrilled you to no end. His hand smooths over your back and then harshly grabs a handful of your ass.

“You always know just what I need, don’t you. What a good little assistant.” You crane your neck to see him as he spreads your ass cheeks, groaning when he sees how soaked you are.

“I know Hawkeyes did a number on you but I’d bet good money most of this is you getting off on being a fucktoy huh?” He’s kneeling on the bed behind you now, fingers playing on the outside of your folds.

“Just-“ You whine as Crocodile presses close to you, his chest over your back and his dick pressed against your entrance. “Just wanted to be good for you-“

“Oh doll you’re always so good for us.” He kisses up your spine as his tip presses into you. “And now everyone knows not to fucking touch you.”

He slams into you all at once, shoving you down into the bed as you loudly moan. Gripping the sheets tight under you, you do your best just to keep yourself upright as Crocodile fucks you at a relentless pace. His hand holds your hip and gives his thrusts extra power as he takes over all movement, letting you turn over all power to him.

“Do you like that we hurt that man for you?

That we humiliated him before killing him in front of all those people?” His voice is barely more than a growl as he loses himself in the feeling of your tight walls.

“Fuck- yes- I do-“ You admit, voice muffled by the sheets your face is being shoved into with every harsh thrust.

“That’s fucking right- you’re just as twisted as us aren’t you?”

You can only whine in response as his pace picks up, the lewd sounds of flesh slapping against flesh filling the space between his words. Crocodile spits out praises as he hammers into you and you know neither of you are going to last much longer.

“Oh you’re close- you get so fucking tight-“ Crocodile’s hand leaves your hip and wraps around your throat, pulling you up so your back is flush against his chest. The new angle has your toes curling. “Need you to cum all over my cock- that’ll be my reward huh?”

You can’t nod with his grip on your throat but the moan you release at his words is probably answer enough. The angle, the way his hand is restricting your airway just enough, his filthy words right in your ear- it’s all too much. Your arms come up and around to wrap tightly around Crocodile’s neck as your orgasm takes you.

Crocodile doesn’t let up though, biting down into your shoulder as his pace stutters before one final deep thrust as he spills inside you. He holds you there for a few moments, pressing a kiss to the spot on your shoulder where he left a bite mark. Gently he lets you down while finally pulling out, the mixture of his and your cum finally dripping out of you.

Exhausted, you’re not sure who cleans you up but soon you find Buggy laying in bed with you and you curl up into his side as you wait for the other to join you in bed. It doesn’t take them long- or you fell asleep for a bit- but soon the bed is full and you’re surrounded by body heat.

Maybe it should disturb you how much you relished in seeing Buggy and Crocodile covered in blood, the sick joy you felt when you heard what happened. But when your nights end like this- warm, safe, protected- you realize you don’t care. This was your life now, why not love every aspect of it?

#one piece x reader #one piece x you #x reader #crocodile x reader #sir crocodile x reader #buggy x reader #dracule mihawk x reader #mihawk x reader #the cross guild x reader #cross guild x reader #discordantwritings

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kakiastro · 2 months

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Saturn + Saturn Placements

Hey you guys! Let’s talk about Saturn for a little bit. It’s a full Moon in Capricorn so let’s talk about her ruler. So get comfy, grab a snack and your favorite drink because this will be a long post

As a cap stellium, I’ve gotten to really know and deeply understand Saturn over the years!

I feel Saturn is misunderstood a lot in this community!

Saturn is Not the bad guy! Honestly without Saturn, your life would be in chaos! Saturn brings law and order into our lives.

Saturn delays but never denies!

Saturn is the stern parent that wouldn’t let you go to that one friends house but you rebelled and went anyway. Only to find out that one friend was never really your friend and you realize the stern parent was right.

-Saturn rules both Capricorn, Aquarius and is exalted in Libra. Saturn creates the rules for structure and order (Capricorn). Saturn can also break and create new rules for the betterment of society(Aquarius). He makes sure the rules are in balance and fair for all(Libra)

-Saturn rules over all things Government related. A lot of politicians will have Aquarius/11h, Capricorn/10h or Libra/7h placements in there . Saturn transits show us the energy of what the politics is going to look every 2.5 years.

Example: so I’m in the US, so with Saturn in Pisces, there’s a strong level of uncertainty, it’s hard to tell what’s going to happen since it’s an election year. The mental health of both candidates are being questioned, as there age. All very Saturn Pisces. Pisces rules over fog, health and uncertain energy. Saturn rules over age.

- The colors Black, Brown, Earthly Greens are Saturn colors

-Saturn rules over time. You know the phrase “All good things take time.” Saturn is ruled by Greek God Kronos who is considered “the God of time.”

-Capricorn is actually a feminine sign not masculine. It’s really funny when it’s called the “daddy” sign when it’s really “big mama”😅 keep in mind, feminine doesn’t equate to woman in Astro , it’s an energy!

- Saturn rules over these animals: Goats, Crows, Ravens, Bats, Eels, Owls, Crocodiles, Donkeys, Snakes, Camels, Beetles, poisonous animals, black colored animals/insects, domesticated Cats, and Buffalos.

- Saturn rules over these places: dry places like the dessert, low humidity, mountain locations, cold places, thick forests, underground places, caves, barren places. It also rules over graveyards, tombs and old temples. Government related buildings is also ruled by Saturn.

- Saturn traditionally rules over death. Pluto is the modern day ruler but Saturn also rules it. “Death is like meeting an old friend” that doesn’t sound like Pluto does it?😅 Saturn rules over time, when your time is up…

- A lot of people don’t know this but Saturn rules over weed not Neptune. Saturn rules over agriculture in general. Weed is a natural plant that takes time to grow and needs to processed. Neptune rules the actual high of the plant when you smoke it.

-some other plants Saturn rules is the Oak and Willow Trees.

- another thing people don’t know about Saturn is that it rules your hair not Venus. Saturn rules hair follicles and the texture of your hair. Aspects to it can show what type of hair you have. Venus is how you take care of your hair such as shampoos, conditioners, oils, hair styles etc..

Personal example: I have Saturn Aries, my hair is really thick and tightly curly. My hair fits on my head like a big helmet😅 i don’t even wear a hat in the winter because how thick it is😭I have to constantly keep it moisturize because it gets dry and itchy quick!! Summer months is never a fun time😂 I have a lot of Saturn aspects so I can make a whole post about my hair by itself LOL

-Saturn rules your teeth and bones.

- your Saturn placement can show you what your elder years will look like. That’s because it rules over the elderly.

-if you feel like you’re losing control of your life, you can tap into your Saturn energy to get it back.

Personal example: I have Saturn Aries, so when life feels like I’m out of control, I start to look at myself and what do I need to do with myself. I start making bold decisions about what I need to do! Aries is Mars energy and rules “thyself”

-Capricorn Suns can have a tough relationship with their father. Their father may have put lots of pressure on them to be the best or they want their child to be like them in some way, which makes the child feels restricted in showing their true personality. A lot of cap suns may have an absent father or father that was physically around but not emotionally around. These natives were born during a time when the father was either achieving something great or they missed an opportunity so they want their child to do it for them. This results in cap suns becoming workaholics and wanting achievements in their life.

-Capricorn Moons can also have this energy but it’s a little different. Capricorn Moons are born into families that put lots of pressure on them to be great but don’t fully believe in their success. Capricorns have big dreams that seem unrealistic to others especially family members. So they work hard, they’ll climb biggest mountain and they don’t care how long it takes because they know it’ll be worth it in the end. They may be the ones who creates a lasting kegacy in their family.

-Aquarius Sun may have more of a friendship type of relationship with their father. “That’s my buddy” type of energy between them. On the flip side, their dad may have been distant towards them. They were born during a time when their father was going through something and it made them feel distant. Their fathers could’ve had gained a new friend group. One of his friends could be these natives godparents or play uncle.

- Aquarius Moons come from family that’s emotionally distant or feel stagnant in some way. Their family probably feels more like a friend group than your “traditional family” they are here to gain freedom away from their family, do things outside the box of the traditional family . They are the black sheep of the family and may have a different vibe to them compared to their family all together!

I will end it here but I will continue to talk about Saturn for the next few days

#astrology #astrology community #knowledge #astro observations #love astrology #advanced astrology #kakiastro #tropical astrology #birth chart #Saturn series by kakiastroe #Saturn

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puranami · 10 months

Text

✿ It's The Little Things - 4 ✿

A/N: I wish I knew how to write for Katakuri because he'd be right at home in this big boi edition ksdjh Rosi makes me cry ilhsm (ಥ﹏ಥ)

Summary: Little relationship things with a couple big bads, and Rosi who has never done anything wrong in his life and doesn't die, bc i said so ✿

Characters: Crocodile, Rosinante (Corazon), Doflamingo

Content: SFW, G/N reader (though Croc calls you doll... but I think he'd do that regardless,) fluff on toast ✿

(Part 1 - Luffy, Zoro, Nami, Usopp, Sanji) (Part 2 - Buggy, Shanks, Mihawk) (Part 3 - Franky, Robin, Law, Kid, Killer)

Crocodile

✿ It goes without saying, being with Crocodile means you are surrounded by luxury; he is a very materialistic man with a very specific image he has cultivated, and that extends to you. All your clothes, jewellery, any makeup, even down to your perfume and shampoo are carefully considered to make sure you compliment him perfectly. He is particular, but not unreasonable, giving you options so you can make your own decision, and he will not force something on you that you hate - can't have you walking around sulking. Really though, he values your opinion, he just sets the parameters and you chose how to meet them. In fact, if you simply went along with everything he said, giving no input of your own; he'd get very bored, very quickly.

✿ When you aren't in public, basically acting as the power couple of Alabasta (before that goes awry,) and then of the Cross Guild; he allows himself to be much softer, and generally just more human with you. Work will always be his priority, but he's not against sleeping in and having a lazy day, or part day, depending on what's going on in your lives. He'll hug you randomly, catch you in his hook if he wants your attention, and just generally manhandle you, but in the gentlest way. Crocodile also enjoys cooking with you, and is not above throwing ingredients, or flicking water at you, especially if you start it, and he will throw a tea towel in your face if he wants to. It's very endearing seeing such a powerful, and feared man being a little silly, and it's only for you.

✿ His sense of humour is as dry as he is, and either you get it and laugh along, which is nice, or you find it so painful that you can't help but groan, him laughing at your suffering instead, which is even nicer. Crocodile's laugh is basically a low rumble that you can feel reverberating in his chest, which is the nicest part of all. He always drops jokes unexpectedly, in a way where you think he's just going to comment on something, or maybe flirt with you; "You know what makes me smile, doll?" - "Could it be the fact you get to spend a quiet, relaxing day with me, hmm?" - "Facial muscles." It's either the funniest thing, or you will genuinely want to throttle him. He doesn't hold it against you if you slap him over it, the impact barely registers with this living sandbag, and he takes it as a sign that the joke was a particularly good one (in his opinion.)

Rosinante (Corazon)

✿ An absolute sweetheart, and a gentle giant. He treats you like spun glass, at least to begin with, afraid he will hurt you with either his general size and strength, or his clumsy nature. It will take time for him to relax into things, but he will; humans are naturally rather resilient, and him giving you a strong hug, or falling over himself onto you is not going to break you. It still won't stop him crying over it, especially if you end up with any bruises, but you'll hold him gently as you stroke his head, soothing him while you explain that it's alright, and that these things happen; "I got a bigger bruise from accidentally kneeing the table the other day. It's not the first time, and it won't be the last either. Everything is okay, I promise." Poor guy just loves you so much, he can't stand the thought of you being hurt in any way!

✿ He absolutely adores it when you snuggle up beside him, under his massive coat. It feels like the safest place in the world, and it's so warm - nothing bad can happen under this fortress of feathers! Rosi in general is just a cuddly guy really, holding you at every opportunity, taking your relatively small hands in his giant ones, carrying you whenever and wherever you'll allow him to; always by his chest though, so when he inevitably slips, he doesn't land on you. Being your resident tall, he prefers to pick you up to reach things as opposed to grabbing those things for you, as it means he can hug you at the same time!

✿ Rosinante is absolutely ride or die with you! Whatever your dreams and ambitions, he will do everything in his power to try and help you achieve them. The only caveat is that he will also do the same for his own mission, and sometimes that overtakes him, and he will unknowingly, and definitely unwillingly overlook you at times. He keeps you completely separate from that part of his life - because it's so dangerous, and he never wants to put you in harms way. It can be lonely when he's so focused, or not around, and that's what spurs him to attach himself to you whenever he can.

Doflamingo

✿ The fact you managed to catch his attention at all is honestly a feat in itself. He's a man who has everything (until he goes to jail,) and he always gets what he wants, no matter how he has to go about it - so there must be something that he cannot buy, threaten, or manipulate out of you, or anyone else. There is something about you personally, a fearless spirit, the right kind of sass, the patient and forgiving nature of a god, just something more; you're like a unique treasure, one that he refuses to allow in the public eye, as he is a very selfish man. He basically puts you on a pedestal, catering to every little whim or desire. At least to a point. He won't prioritise you over his machinations, and he can't be soft and tender with you on command. He'll have is moments sure, but they're on his time, and only when you are alone.

✿ He loves to loom over you, manhandle you, generally just manipulate your body, all to remind you just how small and delicate you are. The man is a predator, let's be real, and you will never forget that while you are his favourite, you are still prey in his eyes. While he likes the look of you being the small, timid thing he expects from prey, he adores your looks of defiance, refusing to cower before him. It's part of what proves that you are above everyone else, excluding himself of course, and that you are worthy of his attention. You can sass him, and tell him "No," so long as you do what he says where it matters. He won't tolerate blatant disrespect and insubordination, that's a one way ticket 6ft under. Your relationship is a delicate balance of accepting your place beneath him, but not being so beneath him that you may as well not exist.

✿ In those longed for times when it's just the two of you, he will give you whatever affection you desire, even if it's not something he can really reciprocate. He likes you happy, and his pride means he will not accept that there is something he cannot get or do for you. That's not to say he doesn't love you, he does in his own way; he's just buried that part of him deep down, so deep it may never be found. Perhaps, as time goes on however, with you being a consistent presence in his life, showing him what genuine kindness and compassion are, he may remember somewhat and be able to offer it back to you. Don't hold your breath, though, if it's happening, it's not happening fast. He's certainly a convincing actor, and his mimicked affections feel real enough.

#one piece imagine #one piece x reader #one piece x you #sir crocodile #donquixote rosinante #donquixote corazon #donquixote doflamingo #crocodile x reader #crocodile x you #rosinante x reader #corazon x reader #rosinante x you #corazon x you #doflamingo x reader #doflamingo x you

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fanaticsnail · 3 months

Text

She Was Mine

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 3,000+

Synopsis: A new transfer is tasked with guarding Doflamingo as he visits the world government headquarters. Doflamingo becomes intoxicated and reminisces about the love of his life to this new transfer, confessing he still loves her and wants to be with her.

Themes: Doflamingo x f!reader, drinking, intoxication, confessions of love, injury, talks of death, assassination, canon divergence, Lourdes Jordi is an OC (and an unfortunate venting target), Doflamingo is a sloppy drunk.

Notes: @feral-artistry said Doflamingo is a sloppy drunk who dials his exes and shows up on their doorstep. I needed to see it, so here is my little take on it. Image is a screen grab from one piece.

Tag list: @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @indydonuts @carrotsunshine @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training

The newest transfer in the world government center did not truly know what he was expecting while on the infamous ‘Warlord Watchdog' shift. Many marines shied away from signing up for such a feat, opting to remain fixed on their assigned tasks and not put forth their names for extra credit.

Jordi didn't know. He truly had no idea what exactly he had placed his name at the top of the sign up list. A pay rise? Certainly. The month off from night shift? Absolutely. Babysitting an inebriated violent blonde man in a pink, feathered coat as he cried into the twelfth wineglass in a row, babbling about a love once forgotten to all that heard him? Not exactly what he was hoping for.

Donquixote Doflamingo had been drinking all day, lazing about and perching on the round table in the center of the meeting space. He had flirted with both Sir Crocodile, and Vice-Admiral Tsuru in the same sentence, reaching for Mihawk’s red wine glass and taking a lengthy swig and winking at him once draining it dry.

All of the guards in the room were on edge, but Jordi remained steadfast and strong. He did not want to be placed on Donquixote duty, and instead had hardened his resolve to ask Tsuru to be assigned to Mihawk or Kuma. Instead, Tsuru took his competency and stoicism as a sign that he could handle Doflamingo for the remainder of his time at the world government headquarters.

As Doflamingo reached for lucky number thirteen for the afternoon, he halted his soft sob and sniffed back a solemn smile.

“She was mine,” he whispered, his fingers shaking as he finally made his eyes focus on the glass, “You know? She was all mine. I had her, if you catch my meaning.” Jordi gulped back his fear, darting his eyes over Doflamingo's face and attempting to understand where he was coming from.

“Name, officer,” the tall blonde barked at him, prompting the young man to jolt back in his stance.

“Jordi, sir,” the younger man stated, his nerves no longer born on his features. “Lourdes Jordi of the Fourth Flight, reporting to Vice-Admiral Tsuru, sir.” Doflamingo clicked his tongue, lulling lazily in a drunken stupor as he hung the wineglass off to the side.

“And you're, what? Eighteen? Nineteen, even?” Doflamingo slurred, his glasses falling askew on his features as he looked the young man over.

“I'm twenty-two, sir,” Jordi nodded to Doflamingo with a deep furrow in his brow. Doflamingo cackled, his eyes puffy from his earlier depletion of emotion.

“Ah, then join me, Mister Lourdes.” The king of Dressrosa gestured to the seat in front of him, “Share in one of these piss-poor excuses of a rosé with me. It's sweet, dry and absolutely disgusting. She would never approve.”

Jordi was at an impasse. On the one hand, he was on duty serving the world government in babysitting the messy, drunk warlord. On the other, he needed something to numb the pain of babysitting the aforementioned messy drunk warlord.

Glancing at the time, he noticed it finally ticked over to six in the evening, which meant his guard shift had ended for the day. Sighing out, he slowly retracted the empty bar stool from its position tucked beneath the table and took his seat. Doflamingo chuckled, topping up his wine glass and pouring one for the bronze-skinned younger man.

“Have you ever been in love, Mister Lourdes?” Doflamingo asked him, flailing the rose bottle as he spoke, spilling a small trickle from the top and dampening the mahogany table. Without waiting for an answer from the younger man, he continued.

“She was… everything to me. My whole world, my northern star shining in the night and bringing me hope in the dark. My angel, my darling,” the Donquixote king of Dressrosa trailed off a series of pet names in both Dressrosian and Marijoan, leaving Jordi feeling far more out of his depths as he initially felt embarking on such a feat.

“My sun bringing my warmth in the deepest winters, my moon rising the tides of passion in my soul,” Doflamingo again began to sniff back his glassy tears, prompting him to raise his hand to his face and remove his ruby glasses. Placing them on the table, he pinched his brow and began to sob against his fingertips.

Jordi thought on his feet, raising his wine glass outwards and upwards in a gesture of good will. He offered a small sentiment in his speech, his lips curling in a sympathetic smile.

“Shall we toast to her memory, king Donquixote?” the younger man suggested, prompting Doflamingo to look through his fingers up at him curiously. Jordi pressed on, “You are mourning her passing, yes? Should we not toast for her?”

“She's not dead,” Doflamingo snarled, releasing his eyes from his hands and reaching forward and brushing his wine glass against Jordi’s with a sarcastic grin, “She just tossed me aside, ruining me for any other potential partner because she destroyed my soul and shattered my heart like porcelain on concrete.”

“Oh,” was all Jordi offered in response, sheepishly biting back his empathetic grin and raising his glass to his lips. The liquid touched his tongue, the sweetness spreading over his palate and igniting the follicles on the back of his neck in response to the tart tang. He grimaced at the flavor, prompting Doflamingo to laugh in a low snicker.

“Tastes like piss, doesn't it?” Doflamingo teetered off his laughter and drained his glass in one fell swig, “Drink up, boy. You need to get on my level here.” Jordi groaned quietly, knocking back the sweet liquid and hissing as soon as it impacted his stomach.

Doflamingo poured himself another glass, pouring Jordi’s one second and placing the empty bottle on its side against the table before giving it a small spin. Watching the glass rotate, Jordi shook his head and formed a question in his mind about it.

“You seem awfully upset, sir. What exactly did she do?” Doflamingo sighed forlornly in response, his heart pooling in his eyes and glazing them over with glassy emotion.

He hastily drew his shirt open and pointed to a small mark in his chest. Jordi leaned forward, examining the divot and noticing the precision in the mark and how the raised welt healed in a soft silver.

“She stabbed me in the chest with her favorite blade,” Doflamingo smiled proudly before the tear that threatened to spill finally teetered over the edge, “Do you know what that means?”

Jordi sat back in his seat, his eyes widening as he took in the information that someone was close enough to Doflamingo to land a single blow. The divot in his chest was enough of an indication of the intimacy of such a heinous act on someone so dangerous.

“What does that mean, sir?” Jordi whispered, his eyes darting between the unadulterated gaze given to him from the warlord. Doflamingo sobbed, raising his glass to his lips and taking a lengthy gulp.

“It means,” he grunted back the bile rising in response to the hasty drainage of the alcohol, “She loved me. She truly loved me.” Jordi’s eyes widened at such a deranged conclusion, prompting him to raise his glass to his lips.

“What brings you to that end, sir?” Jordi tested him with his voice even and unwavering, “A blade to the chest would hardly mean such an expression, surely?” Doflamingo leaned forward, his motions slowed by the alcohol and slurred in each action.

“Because, Mister Lourdes,” Doflamingo snarled at him, leaning in closer before his lips curled into an unfamiliar and highly expressive pout, “If she wanted me maimed, she would've aimed for my face.” He leaned closer, gesturing to his cheeks before gesturing to his throat, “And if she wanted me dead, she would've aimed for my jugular.”

Doflamingo sat back in his seat and spread his knees wide, relaxing into his chair with a prideful smile.

“No, Mister Lourdes,” he continued, sniffing a lengthy inhale through his nose and smiling a true grin, “No, she loved me so much. She was mine, sh-she loves me.” Jordi nodded along politely, fearing the delusion that was expelling from the blonde warlord.

“Who was she, sir?” Jordi’s curiosity peaked, his eyes never leaving the lengthy blonde eyelashes or ruby tint of the warlords irises, “A pirate, a marine, a princess?”

Doflamingo slurred a name familiar in reputation enough to him that had Jordi's glass drop from his palm and shatter on the ground beside him. His lips parted in shock, his eyes widening and staring in shock and disbelief.

“There's-... There's no way-...” Jordi whispered, watching as Doflamingo's eyes glazed over as his consciousness slowly departed from him.

Doflamingo collapsed on the table, the weight of the potent fluids finally igniting his veins and causing him to buckle beneath his stupor. Jordi signaled the barkeep to call for backup to move the ten foot giant.

Lying in your bed, you are suddenly awoken by your Den-Den snail. Rolling immediately to your side, you sit completely upright in your bed and click the speaker to awaken the sentient technology.

You state your name in a monotonous drall, not allowing the fact you were in the midst of an REM cycle not seconds ago dissuade you from conversing precisely.

“State the target,” you utter darkly, not paying attention to what the snail was morphing into to match the distinction of the person on the other end of the call.

“Cara mia,” the voice on the other end slurred back at you, “Te amo, mi princesa.” You groan, lulling your head back and rolling your eyes at the all too familiar voice. You could almost taste the alcohol from within the mouthpiece, the snail missing the signature glasses and eyes looking red and swollen.

“Donquixote,” you utter in return, your malice dripping in venomous viscosity in every syllable, “I informed you the last time, lose this snail code. I refuse to-.”

“-Please, my love,” his hush whisper cut through the piece, his desperation pouring from his lips like warmed honey, “Please, I just want to hear your voice. My heart is with you, always. Let me hear your voice. Let me hear your melodies sing for me their sweet song.” You growl, rolling your eyes and prompting you to lie back against your pillows and pout.

“You’ve been drinking,” you note, feeling his tone shift and slur along with his uttered praises. “What have you been drinking?”

“I had tequila with breakfast, a mimosa or two to follow,” he slurred, prompting you to wince back at his confession, “Everything started getting blurry at the fourth shot, or maybe it was the absynth? I know that it got foggy for a minute there when I drank from the swordsman's wine.”

“Ah, you've mixed poisons then,” you nod before shaking your head at his confession, “You will likely not recall making this call, like all the others you've made in the past.”

“I remember them all, my love. My darling, the siren who sings my praises as she shepherds me into my doom,” he coos into the mouthpiece, “Mi princesa, mi reina, tell me you love me. Tell me, please.” You shake your head.

“It’s been a long, long time, Doflamingo,” you utter darkly, shaking your head and pinching the bridge of your nose.

“But a bat of an eyelash,” he whispered in return, “A beat of a butterfly’s wing.” You shake your head, closing your eyes and mourning your lack of slumber.

“You have had much to drink to spoil your mind and sour your words,” you sigh into the receiver. He returned your sentiment, sighing in a sarcastic breath back at you.

“My mind has never been clearer,” he slurred, “My thoughts are only of you and that pretty knife you pressed into my chest. Your lips close to mine, your thighs straddling my waist, my mind only thinks of you.”

“Doflamingo-,” you sigh, his voice cutting you off with a sorrowful sob.

“As is my heart. Always with you,” he sobbed, his breath hitching and his tobe coming out in soft sniffles, “Just-... Just tell me you love me. Tell me you feel something for me. My heart can't take it.”

You huff out your resolve, shaking your head and closing your eyes shut. Your heart panged with guilt, feeling your heart reignite with passion long since forgotten and lost to the ages that fell between you.

“Of course I did,” you whisper in a hushed hiss into the mouthpiece, “Or I would've carved out your eye, split your face with my blade, or simply killed you to prove my loyalty to the assassin's guild for the celestial dragons.” Your dark confession raises a hum from the other end of the call.

“You 'did'? Does that mean you no longer feel for me?” you shake your head and glance up at the ceiling. He sniffs, his heart pouring out to you over the transceiver with each passing moment.

“I-...” you began, reopening your eyes and sighing in exasperation, “...You know I do, Dof. That's why I've taken out each person who's presented me with a contract to kill you.” He swoons, his voice crying for you in a keening mewl.

“My guardian angel protects me as I still draw breath?” his tears spill with each hushed whisper, “Even though you're prevented from being with me, our love was never sanctioned, and our world's far distant from one another. You still love me even now, don't you?”

Emotion began to well in your chest, springing up like a forgotten fount being pumped at a rusty, iron piston. You bite back your sorrow, feeling it overcome you with grief.

“Of course I do, Dof,” you admit into the transponder. Your heart soars for him before you remember the state he decided to call you in. Shaking your head, you bite back your emotion and ask him, “Will you still love me in the morning?”

After taking a moment to collect himself, Doflamingo sniffed back his sorrow and confessed to you.

“I will love you all mornings until my eyes close in their eternal slumber,” he whispered his dark confession, “Each day the sun rises, I will love you. And for each day the light disappears on the horizon, I will mourn for you as I remain alone in my love without you beside me.”

Sighing and shaking your head, you close your eyes as your heart splits in two at his confession. Clapping your palm over your lips, you refuse to allow him the luxury of knowing he'd moved you so easily with such pretty words.

You, a hardened assassin made to prove your devotion by attempting to kill Donquixote Doflamingo for the Celestial Dragons as their prize jewel in their vast treasury. He survived your attack, the dragons understanding that his healers were some of the best available and not questioning his survival when you presented them with your soiled blade and somber expression. They found it entertaining to have someone like you in their armada.

Their forgiveness came as a double edged blade: you were their preferred contract killer and were to live a life of luxury, and you in turn were to never return to your old life as a bounty hunter for someone as lowly as a Vice-Admiral. You were welcomed into Marijoa with opened arms and granted a title amongst the menagerie.

Doflamingo was a hindrance, and your love for him was depicted as weakness. Stabbing him was the easiest way to part from both of those inhibitions. The heart was an easy choice, considering how it broke yours to make such a terrible decision.

“You still there, my love?” Doflamingo's voice echoed within the transponder, breaking you away from your reflection.

“Always,” you respond in kind, closing your eyes and focusing on his words. His breathing was labored, his soft groans and cries for you coming across in each breath.

“Come to me?” he whispered to you, his heart in every cracked syllable as he coaxed you to come closer with his beckoning cry. “I want to see you. Please come to me?”

“We both know I can't,” you utter in return, “My face is too recognisable these days, and my reputation as an assassin for the celestial dragons has the seas part for me as welcome.” He groaned for you, his heart in every gruff whine.

“But do you want to?” he whispered, “That's all I want to know. Do you want to see me? To be with me? To lay beside me and watch the clouds with me?” You press your head back into the pillow and stifle a soft sob for him.

“Of course I do,” you utter in return, “I love you, Doflamingo. Never doubt that.” He whimpered in the mouthpiece, prompting you to shake your head and utter, “As always, if you remember any of this conversation. I'll be waiting.”

At that final word, you hung up the receiver and ended the call between you. The calls were getting more frequent, his drunkenness prompting his sloppiness and desperation between every call. Slouching back into your bed, you wait for sleep to claim you back into its arms.

That slumber never comes, reflecting in turn the call that you never received from Donquixote Doflamingo. No matter how many times he calls you while drunk on whatever fluid of choice of the evening, his call once sober never arrives.

As you prepare your coffee in the morning, your sleeplessness provoking you to make a greater caffeine to liquid ratio, your Den-Den roars to life in its soft, frog-like, chirp. Expecting one of your superiors, you almost drop your earpiece as an all too familiar voice purrs at you.

“Are you still waiting, my love?” Doflamingo asks you, his breath halting in his chest as he anticipates your answer, “I-... I meant every word. Every syllable. Every breath,” his voice crackles in the snail distorts his voice briefly, “As promised, I still love you in the morning. All that remains is one question.”

You suck in a soft breath, waiting to hear his words as you grip the handle of your coffee cup further.

“Do you still love me in return?”

#one piece #x reader #donquixote doflamingo #Doflamingo #doflamingo x reader #one piece x reader #doffy x reader #i just wanted something romantic and pretty #and doffy was right there #he is a messy drunk #poor Jordi

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petrichorium · 2 months

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also on my hands and knees dying to know about ur divorce (and perhaps reconciliation maybe…) with sir croc

Firstly I wanna say croc is THE reason for the divorced tier I had everyone in the husband/fiance/bf (and cusp + complicated) tiers I had the list downloaded and then I looked at croc in the husband tier and I was like no. Divorced………

Anyway I think you’re a marriage of convenience at first. Crocodile needs a wife to look more like An Upstanding Citizen Ready To Settle Down for his plans in Alabasta, you need the stability and rapport for your own reasons. A deal was struck (including a nice shiny prenup and an easy way out for both of you), the wedding goes off without a hitch, and now you’re cohabitating.

You’re all but a stranger, truthfully, though he’ll admit you were one of the most beautiful brides he’s seen walking down the aisle. And he finds your presence in his home less distracting than expected—you stay out of his way mostly, though the pair of you eat meals together and sleep in the same bed and you are always expected to be on his arm for formal occasions. You’re more than decent company, slowly warming to him and growing more open; willing to give advice on occasion, even, and it’s good advice he’s prone to heeding.

Which is why he’s blindsided when you drop the papers on his desk. There’s little he can do—they were practically already signed before the wedding, and in the surprise he can’t compose himself enough to think up a proper protest. All he can do is fold his hands together as you turn to leave, clear his throat, and call out, “Might I ask why?”

You shrug. It almost seems sad. “I want something more. You’re a very busy man, I don’t think you can give that to me.”

And those words haunt him, all the more because every trace of you is gone in the span of a few days. He lays in his bed, alone, pondering how much you truly lived in his home and how much he truly had to give you. He thought he made sure you wanted for nothing—but, clearly, that wasn’t the case. And if he’d known you’d be gone in the span of a few years…

In hindsight perhaps he’d been a bit distant. His work took up the vast majority of his time. All those meals were more often than not spent in silence, with Crocodile leaving long before you finished your food; you were often asleep before he came to bed, still slumbering when he woke; he’d arrive to those formal events with you on his arm and part ways almost immediately, drawn to meet with some politician or another and leaving you on your own.

The bed feels empty.

And then he gets a report about Nefertari Vivi. It all goes downhill from there. The empire he spent years building crumbles beneath his feet, toppled by that godforsaken princess and the upstart pirate with a straw hat. And as he’s carted off to Impel Down… he still thinks of you.

It’s perhaps a good thing that you left when you did. In a certain sense it saved you, severing ties with him when you did. But foolishly he wonders about the timing—wonders if it would have happened at all if you’d stayed. Logically he knows the rationale is anything but sound.

Instinctively… whenever he gets out, whatever he intends to do next, he thinks he needs you at his side again.

So when the break-out happens, and Crocodile is given a freedom he’d nearly given up on, the first thing he does is begin to track you down.

It takes more than he thought it would. His web of informants isn’t half of what it once was, and his name no longer pulls as much weight, forced to remain in the shadows as he now is. You, meanwhile, catch onto the mystery person trying to keep tabs on you far too quickly for his liking—flighty thing, never quite setting down roots, quick to flee at the first sign of danger. A trait that has only seemed to worsen in his absence, it seems.

But it’s only a matter of time. He’s Sir Crocodile after all, back from banishment to the depths of the ocean, sure to see the sun again. His men close in on you within a year as he builds up his numbers again, but Crocodile ensures he’s the first to make contact.

He intends to show you immediately how things will be different this time.

You’ve made temporary home on a quaint little island, sharing a house with a little old granny who lets him in eagerly when he presents a bouquet and says it’s for you. There he waits, served tea and biscuits that he doesn’t taste.

And then the door opens. You pause when you see him, eyes wide—donning a breezy sundress you’d never have worn for him in Alabasta, your hair wind-tousled so unlike the meticulous updos he always saw you in, with a basket of produce under arm—and the sight of you has his chest unwinding. It’s like he can breathe again.

Not that he had any intentions to before, but the smell of your familiar perfume steels his resolve to never let you disappear again.

#one piece x reader #sir crocodile x reader #ask.🌧#saintshigaraki #char.🌧 sir crocodile #mine.🌧#concept heavily discussed w kae and alec on discord LOL so ty if u see this 🫶🏻#maybe tomorrow I’ll write reader’s side of the reunion but I am Eepy so I leave it there LOL #but just……. him being a bit neglectful the first go. kinda taking you for granted #and then having the shock of his life when u leave + he is taken down #and it turns into this almost psychosexual thing where u represent that success & power & being on the top #so he Needs you again and this time he will Not ignore u he will cherish you and hold you tightly and shower you w whatever you want #(unless you want a longer leash……… he will not give u that. u will be staying close)#(on his lap ideally)#anywayyyyy #did NOT proofread I am so tired LMFAOOOOOO #cw.yandere #I suppose LOL

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mikoyamisheadcanonblog · 4 months

Text

Shanks' Relationship Question (1)

🍶Who Wakes up first in the morning: 🍶 His S/O wakes up before he does. He likes to sleep in, but he will wake up to his S/O trying to wiggle out of their way of his arm and will hold them closer not wanting them to leave, after five minutes of cuddling will he get up and bring coffee back for him and his lover while they talk about their next adventure.

🍶Who’s the first to fall asleep at night: 🍶It all depends on how much he drinks during the day, if he drinks a lot, he should fall asleep rather fast if his lover is sitting next to him. He sleeps so much better holding his lover in his arms. A few days his lover might fall asleep before him after a few nights of parting. He will pick up his S/O and take them to their shared room and sleep a little after them after putting them to bed.

🍶What they playfully tease each other over:🍶 A lot of things he is a very playful guy himself, he will laugh about his childhood with his S/O or the recent adventure they had. He will laugh if drink spills, or they made it to a party by mistake a little early. He is one to laugh about himself a lot. He will tease his S/O but in a way that builds their confidence.

🍶What they do when the other’s having a bad day: 🍶He does everything he can to make the day better for his S/O. He knows his S/O well enough to read the signs if they are having a bad day. He will try his best to make his S/O better on what they want. A large party with his crew if they like that sort of thing or alone time with him if that is what they want. He just appreciates time with his friends and time with his S/O with a glass of beer.

🍶How they say ‘I’m sorry after arguments:🍶 If he is wrong, he will apologize to his lover, there is no need for all the bells and whistles. He will share a sake or beer with them and apologize after a simple kiss on the temple or holding them close. He accepts simple apologies, simple sake, and beer.

🍶Which one’s more ticklish:🍶 His S/O is more ticklish than him, man is all muscles, he is only slightly under the chin, if his S/O brushes their finger under his chin, he will giggle and kiss them lightly and hold them close. He does enjoy how ticklish his S/O if they are ticklish and isn’t above tickling them and making them laugh. He loves leaving light kisses on their body if they are ticklish.

🍶Their favorite rainy day activities:🍶 He loves to snuggle and drinking with his S/O. Whatever other activities his S/O loves to do. He also might enjoy other activities in the sheets. But parting with his S/O inside would also be enjoyable. But he isn’t one who is against dancing with S/O in the rain.

🍶How they surprise each other:🍶 He loves surprise and surprising his S/O. Whether a small romantic gift he found that reminded him of his lover or throwing a large party. His surprises are simple he likes expensive wine, a surprise adventure, an old map that leads to treasure.

🍶Their most sickening show of public affection: 🍶 Shanks isn’t shy when he is around his S/O he will have his arms draped over his S/O. He will kiss his S/O in front of people if his S/O is looking cute, hand-holding, hugging. He isn’t above all that. He will even give his S/O a piggyback ride around the island if they choose. Other Relationship Questions 1 Zoro, Ace, Nami, Law, Sanji, Kid, Sabo, Killer, Shanks, Doflamingo, Crocodile, Luffy, Robin, Usopp, Koby, King, Smoker,

#shanks x reader #shanks imagine #shanks #shanks headcanons #shanks one piece #red haired shanks #akagami no shanks #shanks x you #shanks x y/n

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aimbutmiss · 7 months

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Crocodile couldn't digest Mihawk and Buggy getting closer at first. Everything about their shift in dynamic bothered him.

It was another boring late night when he first realised the two were closer than he anticipated. He was sitting in his office, staring at the papers in front of him in futile effort. His eyes were refusing to focus and let him read their content. He had lost track of time once again, as he did almost every night. Overworking came as naturally to him as breathing. He slowly got up from his seat with a sigh as he realised he couldn't get work done in his state, so he might as well get some sleep to work tomorrow.

Work, work, work. That's all he'd ever known. Because even when the whole world is against you, hard work always paid off. Blood, sweat and tears never betrayed you like people did. He had always lived his life according to this ideal, and he didn't have any plans to change it anytime soon.

He walked out of the office to make his way to his sleeping quarters, but stopped in his tracks as he was passing by the library. The sound of chatting and laughing was hushed, but still obvious in the silence that covered the island during the night. Normally he couldn't care less about some crew members doing God knows what, but his tiredness made it harder to think. So, he couldn't ignore his curiosity as instincts took over, his feet acting on their own. He tried to listen in, walking closer to the tent walls separating them. He quickly realised it was the clown and hawk eyes on the other side, which was ridiculous. What were the two of them doing in the middle of the night at the library? It seemed they were talking about stupid, random things. He heard something about nail polish, utterly useless.

Crocodile would have left after satiating his curiosity, but something kept him in his place. That something was the fact that the two men addressed each other by their names. Mihawk and Buggy. Not hawk eyes and the clown. Since when did hawk eyes respect the clown enough to address him by name? So, he kept listening in instead of leaving, even though he really should have gone to sleep by then. The conversation shifted... to how soft hawk eyes' hands were? Weird. Then it was completely silent. Even weirder. It took everything in Crocodile to not barge into the room to see what his colleagues were doing. But he didn't care, he didn't have any reason to. So he just left, not caring if the other two could hear his angry stomping through the thin tent walls.

Over the next week, he was hyper aware of every interaction the two had. The soft lingering touches, the quickly exchanged looks, the sheer amount of care hawk eyes seemed to have for the clown... it all baffled him. What did Mihawk see in that mess of a man painted over with an even bigger mess? And why did it bother him so much? They were two adults, they could do as they pleased and it would be none of his business. But something kept eating at his insides whenever he saw the two together. It was probably because whatever arrangement they had going on went completely against his initial plans for Cross Guild. He thought he would be using Buggy with Mihawk by his side, and the man would support him. And that was indeed the case at the beginning, the two of them bullying the clown relentlessly, just for fun sometimes. But the swordsman just had to go betray him and go soft. He really didn't get it. What could Buggy have done to do a complete 180 on this man?

When he reluctantly approached Mihawk about it, discreetly of course, the man simply said they had a book club. What a ridiculous excuse. "Do all book clubs entail fucking each other?!" Crocodile wanted to ask but bit his tongue. He had no proof of a sexual relationship going on between the two, but the signs were alarmingly increasing. He saw Mihawk walk out of Buggy's tent one morning! But again, it was none of his business...

The late nights he spent in his office slowly turned from working overtime to thinking about what the two men were doing. There were very few things that could make him stop thinking about work, so that meant this situation was getting out of control. Crocodile hated losing control. He had to do something, but he didn't know what. He didn't have the right to stop whatever the two were doing, but he clearly couldn't just ignore them either.

While Crocodile was losing sleep over this, his struggle was not hidden from the watching eyes. Everyone realised there was something wrong with the man. He was much more irritable than usual, so everyone was acting more careful to try and stay in his good graces, but it was getting harder and harder every day. It was affecting crew morale, and therefore a lot of the Cross Guild functions. Buggy and Mihawk were enjoying watching Crocodile struggle with his feelings at first, but when they realised it was starting to affect their business they decided to cut their fun short and try to get the man to stop ignoring his feelings.

Easier said than done.

It took a lot to make the man see they liked him. In the end, it was the small things accumulating over time like hawk eyes offering to give him a massage after a long meeting, the clown offering to polish his hook, Mihawk making him breakfast, Buggy feeding the fruitwanis... Crocodile was confused to say the least, but he would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the extra attention and care. He couldn't help but reciprocate the acts, being a lot softer with them both. It hit him one random evening, when they were having dinner together.

"Are you two courting me?"

Buggy and Mihawk shared a glance and broke into laughter.

"Thank fuck, I thought he'd never catch on."

"Took you long enough."

Let's just say they made up for all the lost time that night.

#making up for my lack of posts this weekend with a super long one!!!#this was really hard to write actually because i didn't know how to end it #almost turned into a full fic but i stopped myself #one piece #my writing #buggy the clown #dracule mihawk #sir crocodile #cross guild #cross guild polycule #bughawk #crocobug #crocodile one piece #crocohawk #crochawk

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penkura · 4 months

Text

last forever [6/13]

Summary: Zoro only offered to marry you to keep you out of an arranged marriage with a man much older than you. You agreed with the caveat of ending it via annulment once you received word from your parents regarding the original engagement, despite your growing feelings for your close friend.

Pairing: Zoro x Fem!reader, mentioned Sanami later (like epilogue later so chill)

Warnings: Marriage of Convenience, Fake Marriage, referenced sex (waaaaaay later on), mutual pining, Zoro is bad at feelings but what's new there, eventual romance I promise, mention of past attempted assault (I'll warn in that chapter), creepy older dude later on

Note: This got away from me, it's over 6k words, I'm so sorry. But, here's Robin and a bit of development between our lovely couple, I suppose. I do love Zoro, I promise.

[Ch. 1] ● [Ch. 2] ● [Ch. 3] ● [Ch. 4] ● [Ch. 5]

“Looks like we've shaken them.”

A round of whines from your crewmates is heard, making you smile slightly.

“You guys should be happy.”

Another whine, this time making you giggle while Zoro stares at everyone else.

“Stop that. What's wrong with you all?”

“I miss her!!”

Leaving Alabasta the way you did, barely able to say goodbye to Vivi and Karoo, with her decision to stay in the kingdom rather than join you all at sea, it was rough. You missed her greatly too, but understood her choice and accepted it. You still had Nami, at the very least it wasn't just you and a bunch of boys.

“If you wanted her to stay, you should've taken her by force!”

Hearing the insults everyone throws towards Zoro makes you laugh, even as he looks up at you on the upper deck in annoyance. You wave with a smile still on your face before he looks away. Strangely, things haven't changed much between you since he told you nothing romantic would be happening. Sometimes you feel an ache in your chest when you look at him, thinking about it, but you've come to accept Zoro probably would never take back what he said or try to court you. Once you had some kind of response from your parents, you two would sign your annulment papers and move on, living as crewmates instead of faking being husband and wife for your safety.

“I do agree with Zoro, you guys,” your smile softens as everyone looks up at you in surprise, “I love Vivi too, but if we wanted her to come along, we should've just kidnapped her.”

“[Y/N]!”

“Of course, that would've made us worse criminals,” jumping down from the upper deck, you stand beside Zoro with your arms crossed, “so it's better we let Vivi stay like she decided to. We'll see her again.”

While the rest of the crew agrees with you, Zoro is surprised you're being so agreeable with him after your discussion the other night.

Well ‘discussion’ is putting it lightly and in more positive terms. Sanji confronted him the next morning and mentioned how you'd ended up in tears over what Zoro said to you, making your temporary husband feel bad for a bit. He hadn't meant to make you cry, he was just telling you the truth. Romance was the farthest thing from his mind, it shouldn't even be in yours right now. There are too many other things to worry about, your goals and helping Luffy become King of the Pirates were the main ones. Helping everyone else with theirs was secondary, romance or anything like that was so far out of his mind, he never thought of it being a thing he'd have to worry about.

When he looks at you, all you do is smile, before Zoro shakes his head to move on and get those thoughts that you're still upset out of his head. You probably are, but it's not something to worry about right now.

“Looks like we finally escaped the firing squad.”

“Yeah, finally.”

“Excellent work, swordsman.”

The newest voice makes you all freeze in shock before everyone starts to freak out. Your hand is on your sword but Zoro is in front of you before anything happens, the rest of your crew moving into position against the dark haired woman on board. You barely recognize her as Crocodile's partner Ms. All Sunday, and you're curious about her reasons for being on your ship.

While Sanji swoons over her, Nami and Chopper start to hide behind you behind Zoro, Usopp is shouting warnings, and Luffy is shouting questions, Nico Robin does little more than smile, before saying she wants to join the crew, giving her reason being that Luffy saved her life back in Alabasta.

“I was determined to die, and you saved my life. That's your crime. So I decided I would join you.”

“Well,” Luffy nods and crosses his arms, “Guess it can't be helped. Welcome aboard!”

“Luffy!!”

The next little while is spent with everyone quickly changing their minds about Robin, for the most part. Usopp interrogates her but still believes her to be dangerous, until she pulls a trick with her Devil Fruit powers making him, Luffy, and Chopper burst out laughing. Sanji is smitten simply due to her being a woman, and Robin handing over a bag of jewels to Nami has them in each other's good graces.

Zoro intends to hold out, he's not going to trust her so easily when she was out to get you all until just a few minutes ago. He halfway expects you to do the same, though he doesn't expect the next exchange between you and Luffy a few moments later, once everyone has settled and you're able to pull your captain aside.

“Luffy,” you stay quiet, only he and Zoro can really hear you while Sanji continues to fawn over Robin as Usopp and Chopper ask her to show more of her powers, “Do you really trust her? I mean…she did work with Crocodile.”

Luffy gives you a bright grin and nod, which you return slightly. “Yeah, it's fine! She's not a bad person! You can tell too, can't you?”

“Mm.” You nod, deciding to trust in Luffy and his decision. You climb up on the railing beside him, taking the extra fishing rod to help him get something for dinner. “I'll trust you then, Luffy.”

“Great! Now let's get something good for Sanji to cook for dinner!”

“Haha, right.”

No, you don't miss how Zoro doesn't say anything, instead turning away from you and Luffy, avoiding Robin as she attempts to speak to him before looking at Luffy and asking if he'd gotten any bites yet. She was trying to fit in with you all, Luffy trusted her and she seemed to trust him. You're willing to give her a chance, even if Zoro isn't.

You're sure there's going to be a discussion about this later, and you definitely aren't looking forward to it.

+!+

“You can't be serious that you trust her.”

“Zoro,” you sigh and shake your head, rubbing your forehead a bit. Your head is starting to ache at the thought of a possible argument, “I didn't say I trust her.”

“Oh, and what's your reasoning for not being skeptical? She was our enemy not even three days ago!”

“I get that…but it sounds like she trusts Luffy.”

Zoro sighs heavily and shakes his head at you this time. He's not sure what to do with you, he doesn't want to fight with you about this, but it seems to be the way it's going to go.

He just doesn't trust Robin and doesn't get why you, who seemed to have worse trust issues than he did, ever would.

“And when she betrays us?”

“She won't, Zoro.”

“You don't know that! She could be using Luffy saving her as an excuse to get information and take it to the government or another pirate crew!”

“Oh good lord,” You're nearly glaring at Zoro while he almost snarls at you over the situation, “you are the most untrusting, stubborn man I've ever met! I don't trust her yet, who I trust is Luffy!”

“Luffy doesn't know what he's doing with her! She said something she knew he'd like to hear, she's not safe!”

“Luffy is our captain!” You didn't know your voice could get this loud, nor did you think Zoro's ever would. The rest of the crew must be getting one hell of a show if they could hear you from the storeroom right now. Though, if they could, you're certain Sanji would have run in to defend you and Robin by now.

“What does that have to do with this?!”

“He makes the decisions! If he thinks Robin is safe, I'll trust Luffy!”

“You're being as much of an idiot as our captain is!”

No, he doesn't really mean it, but Zoro wants to get his point across. You should be cautious, wary of this new person who, yes, was your enemy just a few days ago. You get that, you really do, but if Luffy thinks she's a good person, then…

“Yeah, sure! I'm an idiot because I trust our captain's choice!”

“Yes you are!”

“And you're a stubborn, untrusting dumbass!”

Well you've never called him such a name before, and that's more surprising to Zoro than anything that's happened today. You've both said too many things, probably things you don't mean, but it's enough now that he's done with it all. Done with yelling or trying to talk to you about it. He knows you won't listen, you'll both just end up trading insults and he doesn't want that anymore than you do.

So instead, Zoro pushes past you to leave, stopping briefly for one more thing.

“I want those papers later. We don't need to wait on your parents anymore.”

Zoro doesn't let you respond before he's heading back up the stairs, Luffy calling him for something that he's more than willing to do if it means being away from you for now.

You, however, do feel bad for the names you called him, and wish you had stopped him quickly enough to apologize. Had you been able to properly get your words out, maybe Zoro would have listened instead of fighting with you about Robin's recruitment. Instead you both let your emotions take over, said things you didn't mean, and now he was wanting the annulment papers.

Way to go, [Y/N]. You're getting an annulment and probably losing your closest friend.

+!+

Robin finds you with the logbook a couple days later, while everyone else is off the ship checking out the latest island you've docked at. She's not that surprised that you're the one who's keeping track of your adventure, you just seemed like the right person to write out everything that happened. If it wasn't you, she would've expected Nami to be keeping track.

“Anything interesting to record, Miss Logkeep?”

Humming a bit, you nod and finish the sentence you were writing, leaning back as Robin sits across from you. You're still recording all the events of Alabasta, trying to find the words to put everyone's perspective into the log appropriately. Making sure you had all the information meant having to speak with everyone, and with you and Zoro at odds for the moment, it felt like somethings were missing, and you likely weren't going to get anything from him until you two made up somehow.

You haven't taken your annulment papers to him, he hasn't asked again since your argument. Honestly you hope he's forgotten and will let things be until you hear from your parents or he changes his mind entirely. Maybe it's useless to hope for that, but until he asked for them again, you're going to hold onto that hope.

“Yeah, trying to finish Alabasta but…”

“Need someone else's side?”

“Mm…” You nod again, and Robin gives you a smile.

She had heard the argument you and Zoro had, so she knew very well that you two weren't really speaking. Even though it was due to her presence, she didn't say anything to let on that she knew, instead deciding to keep that to herself to see where things went with the two of you. It sounded like you were extremely close, and she'd like to see what your relationship with Zoro really was like.

“Forgive me if I'm prying, but are you and the swordsman close?”

You bite your lip a bit, wondering if you really should trust her with such information. It's not like you have to reveal your temporary marriage to Robin, Zoro would likely demand the papers again and actually sign them this time if you did so. After a moment of back and forth with yourself, you sigh and nod, closing the log with your bookmark in place.

“Yeah, we traveled together before we met Luffy. About eighteen months, I think.”

While you start to relay your story of how you met Zoro, met Luffy, and came to suddenly be a pirate, Robin just smiles and listens to you. Though you and Zoro aren't speaking much right now, you seem happy to be talking about him, like there's something there that even Robin is missing. She's not sure yet, if you have feelings for him, but the smile on your face and the slight blush you seem to have tells her she's on the right track.

“He's saved me from drowning, you know.”

“Has he now?”

You nod again, still smiling. “Not since before we joined Luffy, but a few times. My parents didn't teach me how to swim, Zoro's tried a few times,” you laugh and look at Robin, “I'm not very good!”

Robin laughs with you and gives you a smile. “Sounds like you really like him.”

She has you figured out, Robin thinks, while you blush a little and smile slightly before nodding. You simply have a crush on Zoro, and it seems he doesn't reciprocate it right now. That might change, because she has seen how protective of you Zoro is, having witnessed it first hand when she showed herself on Merry and he was in front of you almost instantly. Although she doesn't yet know all the details of your relationship, she's keen to see what happens.

When Sanji calls you all for dinner, Robin watches you and Zoro. You may not be talking to each other, but you still stay close, seated by each other without much thought, though you don't say anything to Zoro nor does he to you.

Robin knows you two will make up somehow, eventually. It seems as though you've been through far too much together to let one fight come between you.

And if you all do make it to the sky island, there might be a decent chance of seeing how well you two work together in battle.

+!+

“Come on, it's not water.”

You stare at Zoro from the Merry's deck, unsure if you believe him enough to jump down and join your crew. Finally arriving at Skypiea was a weight off and on your shoulders, with how thin the air was you felt like you couldn't breathe at first. Once you were used to that, you thought you were away from the water enough that you didn't need to worry about drowning, until watching Usopp nearly drown to death in the endless cloud sea.

Even with seeing Luffy, Chopper, and Robin freely walk through the clouds without any effects, you still weren't sure about it. Of course, you had no real fear of the water, you'd be a terrible pirate if you did.

However, knowing your inability to swim, you try to be careful on the ship, and not knowing how the Sky Island was, you were more worried than anything, even with Zoro trying to coax you off the ship and say you'd be safe.

You two have barely spoken since your argument about Robin joining the crew, so seeing him try to help you is a surprise. You're both stubborn but Zoro more so than you, which is what led to you spending more time with Robin and getting to know her, trusting her and knowing that she's no longer a threat.

Zoro's not at all impressed with you and how you've avoided speaking to him lately, but leaving you on the ship was not happening in his mind, not when everyone else had left and others were even calling for you. Luffy shouting for you to hurry up, Nami promising it was safe and you wouldn't drown, and even Sanji calling for you and saying he'd found something for you (likely the same flower you'd seen him give Nami and Robin, but it was a sweet gesture).

After another moment watching you debate, Zoro sighs and sticks a hand out to you, making you tilt your head.

“I won't let you fall. You know that.”

He's right, so you finally decide to go with your friends. Stepping onto and jumping off the railing with your shoes in one hand, the other grabbing Zoro's so he pulls you to him and keeps you from hitting the ground immediately, his other arm around your waist to help with that.

“Told ya.” Zoro sets you down and lets go of you once he sees you're stable, turning to follow after the rest of the crew before you grab his arm and stop him. “What?”

“I’m…sorry, thank you.”

“The hell you sorry about?”

“Not talking to you, calling you a dumbass, and fighting with you about Robin. I…we can…sign the papers later…”

Oh, that's what it was. Zoro wondered for a few days why you hadn't said anything to him about your marriage or your fight, he thought you'd just bring the papers to him later and say you wanted the annulment, not worrying about whatever your parents may think. He would've signed them if you did, but hearing the way you spoke just now, the slightest bit of concern and maybe sadness in your voice, it makes him shake his head in response.

“No, just…just leave it alone for now,” Zoro sighs but places his hand on your shoulder, moving you to walk in front of him, “Let's just join the others.”

Nodding, you don't miss how Zoro slightly squeezes your shoulder, before moving to keep his hand on your back and guide you, likely so you knew he wasn't letting you go so you wouldn't fall. It's a strange but kind gesture, even after he'd told you that he didn't have feelings for you and you two weren't going to be a couple.

Part of you wonders if he's lying, whether to you or himself, you're not sure yet though.

+!+

With all the trouble that Skypiea has brought you all, a night of rest and drinking was greatly needed, in your opinion. You'd all split off the next day to search for the city of gold and make your way to the end of sky island, but for now, you'll indulge in some drinks and laughs with your friends.

While he's still busy making food and handing it out, Sanji does, at one point, notice you grab a couple drinks and almost run back over to Zoro to give him one, before you go back to Nami and Robin nearby. How strange you two still are, in his eyes. You fight to the point of silent treatment, then start speaking again just earlier that day, and you're back to your usual self, bringing the mosshead things whether he asks or not. You're far too kind to Zoro, he doesn't deserve you, even though Sanji knows and understands the two of you aren't together. You do too much for him with nothing in return.

Although, rarely, Sanji has noticed that sometimes, it's Zoro who brings things to you in return. You've asked for a book once, something to drink a few times, and more recently had voiced your want for a snack, and were surprised by it a bit later when Sanji brought it to you.

“I…didn't even come ask you yet.”

Sanji shakes his head, scowling slightly before saying “Mosshead came and told me you wanted something to eat. Said I should just bring it right to you.”

You're surprised, mostly because you and Zoro haven't been speaking since your argument the other day.

“I…see…”

The blond knows of your fight, you'd gone to him shortly after and maybe you cried a little while telling him everything, but Sanji's of the belief you two must've made up if Zoro came and asked him to bring you something.

“Guess you guys made up then.”

“No…” this time you shake your head, accepting the small plate of food from Sanji with a slight smile, “We haven't…but this was sweet of him.”

Sanji was surprised at that, but now, he's more annoyed than anything. While you talk and laugh with Nami and Robin, Zoro stays where you left him, every now and then, Sanji catches him watching you. He's probably drunk, that's the only reason Sanji can think of to explain the look Zoro has on his face. It's something soft and almost faraway, like he's thinking too much about something. It only stops when you look over and smile at him, like you had back in Cocoyashi Village, making Zoro look away quickly and down the last of his drink.

There's something there, Sanji knows there is.

He's just not sure what it is yet.

+!+

Robin fully believes she knows what it is between you and Zoro, after watching you two the next day. You'd gone with her to search for the city of gold, Zoro not thinking that was a smart idea but you convinced him you'd be fine and he relented. He didn't want to have another argument leading into a silent treatment event happen. Seeing you without Zoro around, you seemed extremely interested in whatever history Robin told you. You chose to tell Robin about your situation with your family, explaining up to your meeting Zoro and leaving off your current marriage to him. You'd tell her one day, maybe once you'd come to know her more and trust her fully. Robin, though, knows there's something missing from your story. She can see it in your eyes, but she can't see exactly what it is.

What she does see happens when Eneru is nearly about to electrocute the five of you standing before him, Nami hiding behind a bit of debris. Once again Zoro has placed you behind him, and Robin can hear him quietly telling you to go to Nami, which you deny.

“I'm not going anywhere, I'm going to help you.”

Zoro's trying so hard to get you to safety that he nearly misses Eneru targeting Robin, only really noticing when you'd pushed away from him and ran to her, only to be hit with Eneru's attack after you'd shoved her out of the way.

“[Y/N]!!”

Robin's by your side and making sure you're still breathing, relief washing over her when she sees you've just been knocked out. She's more surprised at your actions and how Zoro's sending the worst glare she's ever seen towards Eneru, placing himself between the three of you.

“Don't you dare touch her again.”

“She's likely dead now so that won't be a problem.”

Eneru’s comment nearly pushes Zoro over the edge before Robin calls him.

“Swordsman, calm down! She's still breathing!”

“Doesn't matter! He shouldn't…she shouldn't have…”

Watching Zoro fight for his words and grip his swords tighter, it makes Robin realize she just might be right.

She believes it more so when you all have defeated Eneru, and are recuperating afterwards during a celebration with the Skypieans and Shandorians. Zoro had stayed by your side most of the time, constantly checking to make sure you were alright despite his injuries being worse. You barely seemed to notice, but Robin definitely did. Eventually she sees the same thing Sanji had the night before. You'd gone off with Nami once again, but also Luffy, Chopper, and Aisa this time, the five of you playing some game the little Shandorian girl had come up with, and Robin sees Zoro watching you all, but mostly you. She sees his eyes soften just a bit, the slightest smile on his face while he watches you laugh, especially when Luffy tosses Aisa to you and you catch her, making her squeal in laughter as well. This was the most peaceful she'd seen Zoro yet, and it was all because of you it seems.

How sweet.

You two are the last to wake the next morning, before your abrupt departure, and Robin is sure her hunch is right seeing you snuggled up close to Zoro with one of his arms around you before Sanji kicks Zoro to wake him up. Of course this causes an argument as soon as Zoro is up and in Sanji's face, you barely awake and rubbing your eyes to figure out what's happening.

“What the hell, I was sleeping.”

“You and the swordsman were,” Robin starts to smile while your eyes widen and you feel a blush creeping onto your cheeks, “but we need to get going soon.”

“R-Right… did um… anyone–”

“Yeah you were really cozy with Zoro all night.” Nami grins and you have to hide your face in your hands, Zoro and Sanji still shouting at each other while Usopp, Luffy, and Chopper are gathering their things like it's a game.

Once you all do take off, as you're running to leave, you nearly trip over the ground to the point Zoro grabs you like the sack of gold everyone has and throws you over his shoulder.

“Wait, Zoro!! Put me down!!” You pound on his back a bit before he adjusts you over his shoulder better.

“Not if you're gonna trip like that!”

You don't even bother to fight him and just hang there the rest of the way to Merry, Zoro finally putting you down once you all get there, Robin hears the quietest apology from him while you shake your head and move to help get everything ready to go.

They're very interesting, those two…maybe he does actually like her.

+!+

Landing back in the sea did not go as planned for you. Your air filled octopus balloon friend let you down easily for the most part, until he suddenly ran out of air and the Merry was being quickly dropped into the water. You grabbed as tightly to the railing as you could while everyone else did the same, or grabbed each other in the case of Luffy, Usopp and Chopper, and Sanji not at all complaining as Nami latched onto him. The splash down flooded the deck with water, but once it drained enough, Merry settled and you were back as close to solid ground as possible.

“Everyone good?!” Luffy shouts a bit, Usopp and Chopper still holding onto him while most everyone states they're fine. He furrows his brow when he doesn't hear your voice or see you. “Where's [Y/N]?”

“Did she get swept out when the water drained?!” Nami feels panic seep into her bones while she looks for you in the water.

The second Nami's question reaches him, Zoro is in the water on the side of the ship you'd been on, making what felt like the millionth rescue from water he'd done in his life, most of them being for you due to your inability to swim. The first time it happened you'd been pushed in by one of your bounty targets before Zoro struck them down, quick enough that he was able to reach in and pull you out by your shirt collar like a cat by the scruff of its neck while you flailed about. You didn't eat a Devil Fruit, your parents simply never taught you to swim. Your brother attempted to, but only for so long before your parents heard and barred you from doing so. A lady didn't need to know how to swim, your mother tried to reason with you.

Zoro's able to reach you in time before you get too far down in the sea, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you upwards, surfacing not even a minute after he'd jumped in, making you gasp for air and cling tightly to him, almost suffocating your constant savior while you spit up water from your lungs.

“Zoro's got [Y/N]!! Let the ladder down!”

You hated this, hated needing to be saved anytime you ended up in the water. It's become so much that you aren't sure if you really are crying while you grip onto Zoro, or if it's just water dripping down your face, despite how hard you're biting your lip and tightening your hold on him. It's not like you had a good excuse, not like those who had eaten Devil Fruits.

Zoro puts an arm around your shoulders and stops for just a second once he gets the both of you to the ladder before starting to climb up.

“Hey,” you almost miss him speaking to you, even once he starts trying to soothe you by rubbing your back, “I've got you. You're all right.”

He's quiet while he speaks to you, whispering reassurances that all is well, you're okay, he's not going to let you go until you're on the deck again. You're alive, he's saved you again, kept you from drowning like he has Chopper and Luffy in the past. Like he always has.

Sometimes it feels like all you do is take and take and take from Zoro, from all of them. You wonder sometimes if your parents were right, when they said you were nothing more than a greedy child still, always taking but never giving back. Despite the fact you do your fair share on the ship, in battles, it feels like you shouldn't be here.

Once you're back on the deck, you still don't let go of Zoro, even when he tells you to at least loosen your grip before you choke him to death. You do, at the very least, release your grip on his shoulders and instead hide your face in his shirt, trying to keep your worried crewmates from realizing you are crying after all. Zoro simply holds your head in place, even with Luffy and Usopp trying to check you over while Chopper runs to get his bag and help you. Sanji is quickly throwing his suit jacket around you and trying to get Luffy and Usopp away so they don't cause you more distress, while Robin suggests bringing you to your bed, and Nami's run off to your room to get dry, warm clothes for you. Despite the slight distrust he still feels for Robin, Zoro nods at her suggestion, bringing Sanji's jacket around you a bit more before lifting you up in his arms, knowing you weren't letting him go anytime soon. You don't let go, not even for a second, until you're in your room and Zoro has laid you on your bed, telling you to wait for Chopper to get there while he tries to leave and change into dry clothes himself. He's stopped only by you grabbing his wrist, wanting him to stay, before Zoro promises he'll come right back. You only let go after that, giving a slight nod when he turns to leave you to change clothes yourself.

“Zoro?”

He's almost out of the room before you stop him, making him look over his shoulder to you.

“Thank you…again.”

He shakes his head, telling you not to mention it.

“I'll always save you if you need it, wife.”

+!+

You're struck with a nasty fever and congested cough the next day, blaming it on the unexpected swim you'd taken and the slightly colder area you were in. Chopper's given you all the medicine you can take for now, to try and bring your fever down, the rest was up to your own body to fight it off. Your crewmates were kind enough to take turns watching you, as you all had done when Nami was ill before you brought Chopper on board. She and Zoro are the ones to spend the most time watching you; Luffy tries to cheer you up with jokes, Usopp tells you more of his tall tales, Robin has taken to reading to you from a book she'd let you borrow, Sanji is mostly quiet so you can sleep, and Chopper is in and out checking on you and seeing if your fever has reduced any. Nami is almost as quiet as Sanji, working on a map while you rest.

Then Zoro.

He continues to reassure you that everything is OK, not constantly while he's there but he can tell, when you trail off in your sentences and look away from him, that you feel bad about something. He's not sure what, but he tells you everything is alright, you're alive and you made it out of a fight against a false god and a near drowning.

“‘M sorry you have to watch me…instead of doing your training.”

If he'd been any closer to sleep, Zoro would've missed what you said entirely. Luckily for you, he's awake enough to raise an eyebrow and shake his head.

“Don't worry about it. It's what crewmates do.”

It's what a husband does too…

“I feel like all I do is take from you…”

You don't look at him, finding your ceiling more interesting as you look over the wood pattern to avoid his eyes. You know he'll try to reassure you again, Zoro was good at that, despite his indifference to your pretend marriage. He'd never made you feel like you were a burden or less than, even if you really did mostly take and rarely give in return.

Zoro's not even sure why he always tries to make you realize things are okay, that you haven't done anything wrong. He knows about your parents acting like you should be seen and not heard, such a crappy thing to do to your own child in his opinion. Your parents were well off, they’d give to you and your brother constantly, then make you feel like you were selfish for not returning the “favor” by marrying who they chose for you. They really seemed to embody the “not every parent deserves a child” belief.

Thank God you had someone who cared for you though.

Before even saying a word in response, Zoro quietly takes hold of your free hand, letting you lace your fingers with his and making you look him in the eye again.

“Take all you want, I'll give you what I can. You can return it another time, all right?”

You want to cry, as Zoro strokes your hand with his thumb, and you nod a bit, swallowing down the tears before they can start. The things he does to you, even after telling you he isn’t here for romance. The way he acts, the way he treats you, it really makes you want to believe he’s lying to himself, lying to you to keep up his image. It gives you the slightest bit of hope that things could change one day.

“O-okay…”

We're not a couple…I don't know why you put up with me…

Once your fever is past, you're back to your normal routine of helping out wherever possible on the ship, spending your free time in the kitchen with Sanji, helping Nami with a map, or staying near Zoro while he goes back to training. He doesn't mind if you quietly sit near him, whatever book you've borrowed from Robin in your lap. It feels almost domestic to him, and Zoro has to brush that thought away quickly, lest he start fantasizing about keeping you as his wife. He stops any random thoughts of you two sharing a bed permanently, of taking you out somewhere on the next island for a date, or convincing you to stay up with him during his night watch, just to talk about your relationship and future. No, those thoughts can't be entertained, not now at least, he can't be distracted by such frivolous feelings like wanting to hold your hand all of sudden, or expecting a good morning hug or whatever. Romance isn't in his plans, it's not on his radar. You being his wife isn't supposed to be permanent.

Still though, a thought lingers despite his pushing the others out, when Zoro catches you dozing off in the corner, still fatigued from your body fighting off that fever.

Would it really be so bad to stay married to her?

He's not sure, even as he sets his weight back in place, wiping away any sweat he can and putting on a shirt before settling himself next to you, gently leaning you against him as you sleep. You stir a bit but he quickly quiets you.

“Just me. Go back to sleep.”

“Mm…’kay…”

Despite the scent of steel and sweat, you snuggle closer to Zoro, him wrapping an arm around your shoulders to keep you still. He lays his head on top of yours, closing his eyes and letting those thoughts come back, not stopping a single one this time.

Thoughts of a possible future where you two stay married and act like it, where you treat each other as husband and wife, where you've both reached your goals, where you're settled down somewhere safe enough to have a child or two perhaps.

Thoughts Zoro never once imagined entertaining, but now they take over his dreams to the point he's started changing his mind.

Maybe not so bad.

#zoro x reader #one piece x reader #reader insert #last forever #roronoa zoro x reader

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