#opla fic

[fanaticsnail]

"Thank you"

Word Count: 2,168 Sanji-Pollen "Drabble" Part 2 (Part 1 here)

Masterlist Here, Pollen Masterlist here

Warnings: Pollen!Sanji, MDNI, Sanji has inhaled pollen, Sanji can't relieve himself, Edging, Crying, Whimpering, Begging, rutting, Solo!Sanji, Sanji x Afab!reader. smut, p in v

Minors, this is not meant for you.

Tag List: @vespidphoenix @gingernut1314 @cinnbar-bun @sordidmusings @delectableworm @feral-artistry @writingmysanity - We couldn't just leave him like that now, could we?

As the first of the Straw-Hat crew to return to the vessel, you were unsure as to what following the strange sounds down the lengthy corridor would bring you. Nothing in all of your flirtation-ship with the chef could’ve prepared you for the sight gracing your eyes.

His vision was foggy, jaw slacked and a mixture of sticky saliva sweeping down his chin. The beads of sweat pouring from his temples, dampening his cheeks and gluing his soaked blond hair to his forehead as you witnessed his eyes rolling back into his skull. Growls, cries and whimpers were choking through his throat and coating the air with his desperate screams for aid.

Your eyes widened, following the trail of sweat glistening skin over his torso and down to the chiseled ‘v’ of his blonde happy-trail. Everything was red, hot and desperate. His skin rubbed raw with the clawing fingernails of his dominant hand thrusting his cock within his fist with a violent ferocity. Shock held you stationary in the doorway, your hand dropping the objects you had purchased from within town and thudding against the floor; alerting the poor chef to your presence.

He snapped his gaze to you, his body too weak and desperate to shield his aching cock from your vision. Much to the horror of you both, he continued tugging desperately on his abused shaft and pinching his swollen tip as he was brought to the edge of another orgasm.

“I-I’m so s-sorry,” he managed to stutter out through his thrusting, hot and fresh tears falling freely down his cheeks, “I-I can’t st-stop. It h-hurts t-to stop-p.”

“Sanji, what did you do?” you asked him, hastily bringing yourself into his quarters and closing the door behind you. You hesitated, your brows furrowing and eyes panicking at the sight of your friend in a state of complete vulnerability.

The two of you had something unspoken between you; subtle touches as you brushed past one another in the halls, preferential treatment at meal times, and you always seeking him out and gifting him with tokens from your travels – one of which lay abandoned on the floor beside the door.

“Sanji, what did you do?” you again questioned him, your eyes searching his and attempting to dismiss what he was doing to pleasure himself in front of you. You bit your lip, unable to simply cast aside the lewd noises he was mewling at you, desperately calling your name within his shaky voice.

“I-I can’t,” He sobbed, his cock desperately writhing and twitching within his palm, “I can’t cum!” His desperate cry for help broke something in you, you immediately taking pity on him and running over to sit at his side. The mattress dipped at his torso, you refusing to look below his clavicle and search his gaze for answers.

“Sanji,” you hesitated, your hand halting slightly in its descent towards his glistening forehead.

“T-Touch me, please. Please, love. P-Please touch me,” he begged with you, his eyes shutting tightly as he winced out another cry, “I n-need you. Please, I need you.” You pressed your palm against his forehead, taking in his scorching temperature beneath your palm and wincing at the contact.

“You’re burning up, sweetheart,” you commented, swiping his damp hair away from his forehead and sweeping your palm to collect his cheek, “what can I do? Tell me. I’ll get Chopper-.”

“-NO!” He roared at you, shock springing to your spine at his ferocity. His eyes were open and pupils completely blown with unbridled lust as he managed to wince out, his pace not halting in the slightest as his bicep continued to maintain his bruising rhythm of fisting his veiny cock.

“J-Just-… Just…” he closed his eyes, his breath continuing to stutter. He bit his bottom lip hard, piercing the skin as he attempted to again push himself over the edge of another orgasm to no avail. His body was wrecked with grief, physically shaking. You were unaware of the possibility of someone being struck pale with horror and glow crimson with embarrassment: yet, here lay the poor blonde chef in a puddle of his own sweat, shaking with arousal and frustration.

“Just, what? What can I do? Love, name it,” you cooed down at him. You couldn’t bare to watch another moment of him like this, but truly unaware of how to best aid him in his predicament. Sanji cringed through the pain, gritting his teeth and persevering his unspoken thought.

“Darling,” he called to you, attempting to sit from his reclined position; only to falter back onto his unused elbow as he winced out, “I need you to fuck me.” You were absolutely taken aback by his statement, the seriousness in his eyes and the animalistic tone in his voice. Sanji would flirt with you, sure. You would reciprocate, absolutely. But this was something new entirely.

“-Don’t think about it. Don’t think about me. Just-…nmph-…” he was hit with another wave of lust as the dust in his lungs fuelled his desire further, “-You can picture anyone else. Imagine the most handsome man, or beautiful woman you could concoct. Picture the stupid swordsman, I just-… -f-fuck… Just please, lay with me. Please f-fuck me-.”

You placed both hands either side of his face, pulling his lustful gaze into you and holding his grey eyes fixed on your own.

“Sanji,” you called to him, your voice soft and calm. A whimper fell from his parted lips as you rolled his name over your tongue.

“Y-Yes, my love? Y-Yes?” he asked you, his eyes full of sorrow and defeat. You sighed at his expression, smoothing your hand over his face once again.

“There’s no one else I would dream of doing this for,” you confessed to him, “why would I imagine anyone else?” His actions halted, his body immediately reacting to your words and holding himself completely statuesque. At that momentary pause, his body screamed at him to begin moving once more; a growl releasing itself from within his chest and verbally chastising himself.

“Darling, please. Please,” he begged, thrusting upwards his hips into his hands, “Please ride me. I need you.. -nghh-…, please, I…-hhah-…p-promise I’ll be good. Please.”

You sighed, closing your eyes and feeling the waves of his heated desperation falling off him and coating the room with the perfume of his musky arousal. You stood, facing away from him and removed your pants, pooling them onto the floor to entangle with his bedsheets and pillows he flung carelessly off his bed earlier. Shimmying out of your underwear, you kicked them off to the side, your walls already coated with a shameful amount of arousal at the sight of your desperate friend as he pumped his cock in front of you.

Keeping your eyes closed, you turned around to face him again while bashfully tugging down the length of your shirt to shield your arousal from him. You coyly knelt atop the mattress, avoiding his desperate gaze as he took in every moment of your descent towards him. He continued to fist at his cock at a bruising pace, the heavy slaps falling like punches down his shaft to hit at his groin painfully heavy as he cried out for you one last time.

“I’m s-sorry. I’m…a-aahh-…I’m so, so sorry,” his apologies were flung into the air with a mixture of your name and a variety of creative pet-names. You reached down and collected his unused hand, lacing your fingertips within his slowly and carefully.

“It’s okay, Sanji. If you could just-,” you crawled onto his lap and hovered over his rapidly beating hand tugging his aching cock, “-stop for a moment, and I’ll-…” you reached down and tugged away his hand from gripping his cock in the firm vice-clench of his hand. He whimpered and began gyrating into the air at the absence of stimulation, his tongue darting out to dampen his bottom lip with a fresh coat of saliva.

You placed his hand on your hip and released it from your grasp, reaching down to pull back the skin of his shaft and steady yourself as you made a slow descent to impale yourself atop his throbbing cock. His shiny red tip brushed against your glistening folds, prompting him to let out a feral scream at the contact. Your eyes snapped open, searching his face for any harm or pain, only finding a warm blush dusting his cheeks, his jaw slack and a trail of saliva connecting his upper and lower teeth. You furrowed your brows, hardening in your resolve and sunk the tip of his cock into your core. Another scream erupted from Sanji, his whimpers falling away to become feral growls and ferocious snarls.

“Sanji,” you moaned, the tip beginning to stretch your core as you adjusted to his size. His eyes snapped open as he gazed at your face. Although his vision was blurry and exhaustion was overcoming him from edging his body, he was desperately pleading with himself to be present for this moment. A moment he truly never foresaw ever completing on his own. Although still clad in your t-shirt, your torso hidden from him as you sunk down onto his aching cock, he had never seen something so beautiful. His eyes filled with glassy, fresh tears of relief as you continued slowly coaxing his cock into you.

He unlaced his hand with yours, bringing it to meet the other side of your hip as you descended down onto his cock; fluttering as you adjusted to his size. As you nearly took in his entire length, he mustered all of the strength remaining in his body and sat with you fully sheathed on his lap. His balls were sucked into his stomach with the pressure of his release, the new angle immediately hitting the sensitive underside of your clit with his curved cock with his soft pubic hair tickling against your clit.

In that one swift motion of you taking in his entire length, he was immediately a trembling mess; whining sweet praises at you while physically shaking in his shoulders while desperately clawing at your ass.

He was cumming. Instantly.

Ribbons of his pent up release coating your inner walls with the slickened backsplash of his cum. Twitching, lightly rocking with his entire length disappearing within your walls, he held you so tightly as if you were the only thing tethering him to this world. He pressed his forehead against your shoulder, sobbing onto your shirt with tears dampening the material below his closed eyes.

“I-I’m cumming. I’m cumming. O-Oh f-fuck… -nghhh-… I-I… -hh-hahh-… I’m s-sorry. I-I’m c-cumming,” he cried against you, his shoulders shaking with his sobs. 

“It’s okay, shh,” you drew your hands to the back of his hair, soothing over the sweat covered, matted locks, “sweetheart, it’s okay. You’re safe. You’re loved. It’s truly okay.” You pressed a small kiss to his temple while he slowly rocked you within his lap, his cum continuing to shoot up into you and dance with your own glistening arousal. Although you had not experienced a release, you could empathetically feel his satisfaction as he was finally able to climax through whatever seemed to hold him incapable of doing so. 

Waves of exhaustion fell from him, his rocking halting as the last few beads spilled over and into your body, your arousal satisfying his unquenchable thirst and smothering the flames of his wild, burning panic. He sighed into you, releasing your hips from his grip and circling his left hand around your hips and hooking his right hand up the middle of your back to cradle you against himself. A small shudder of his shoulders followed by a low rumbly, laugh of relief had you finally able to relax, knowing your chef was finally himself again. You giggled, lacing your arms over his shoulders and whispering down against his temple.

“Are you okay down there?” you giggled as you checked in with him, prompting another laugh to erupt from his parted lips at your question. He slowly moved his forehead away from the crook of your shoulder and neck, placing a small kiss against your neck before looking up at you.

“Hi,” he whispered to you, a coy smile rising to his lips as his eyes finally met yours. 

“Hi,” you smiled back in return. He placed his forehead up against your own, brushing your nose with his. His eyes creased upwards, his relief falling over him in waves as you traced circles atop his shoulders. He slowly snuck a glance down at the point where your two bodies connected, noticing his slowly dissipating harness was still buried within you. He sighed out a content breath before seeking your gaze out once more. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up, hm?” Sanji huffed a small laugh, “I’ll return the favor, then I’ll cook you something. That sound okay?” You laughed at his suggestion, nodding enthusiastically and placing a small kiss on his forehead. 

“Sounds perfect, chef.”

[tinkerbelle05]

Sanji please 🙏🏽 🩷

His Accent

Characters: Sanji x Fem!reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: (Requested) After Sanji realizes how much of an effect his accent has on you, he abuses it.

Warning: none :) Thanks for the request, and so sorry it's like months late.... 👨‍🍳

-

Sanji had an accent. You knew this, it was one of the very first things you noticed about him when you met him.

That and his smooth talking skills.

Slowly but surely Sanji had created a space for himself in your life as your lover and you wouldn't have had it any other way. At this point in your relationship, you were used to his casual but over the top flirting and rather bold hand placement, and can proudly say that those actions don’t make you blush like a fool anymore.

But the way that certain words go through his teeth and roll of his tongue still gets to you. His accent still makes you smile uncontrollably. You still repeat the words you like he says in your head over and over again.

His accent was absolutely beautiful.

“Love did you hear me?” You faintly heard Sanji asked.

“Huh?” You asked, you were completely spaced out. “Uh, repeat that for me?” You asked as you moved around the kitchen with him. You were just prepping the vegetables. Nothing major, but you wanted to help Sanji in anyway you can.

“Can you pass me 8 onions please, love?” he asked again.

Like the way he said 8. It hot, plain and simple. You nodded, a bit flustered and handed him his items.

“Did I say something funny?” Sanji asked with a confused look on his face.

“Huh? Why do you asked?” You asked with a confused look on your face now. Where did he get that idea from?

He snickered, “Well you had that pretty smile I know and love on. So I thought I did something to make you laugh.”

You shake your head, “No, you didn’t.” You wouldn’t dare tell Sanji how his accent had an affect on you. You knew he’d never let you live that down.

And afterwards, there was a comfortable quietness between you two. You were staring at the window, looking at the miles of ocean while Sanji continued cutting the vegetables. You were lost in thought again until Sanji lifted your chin to meet his eyes.

“Love, are you okay?” He asked.

Your eyes slightly widen in shock but you shook your head, “Yea, no I’m fine.”

He doesn’t look the least bit convinced with your lousy lie. He gives you an unimpressed stare at you, “Okay whatever you say, Dove.”

That turned you bright red and you quickly ducked so he wouldn’t see you. But the damaged was already done. He’d seen your reaction.

Soft, deep laughs fill the space as you tried to escape him but it doesn’t work. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you towards him.

“Ohh, I get it now. You like my accent, don’t you? Is that why you’ve been acting like this.” Sanji said while laughing, his breath tickling the back of your neck.

“What?! No!” You denied the accusation.

This only made him laugh harder and he peppers short kisses all over the side of your neck, “You do find it attractive.”

“How dare you assume—”

“Sweets, you’re smiling uncontrollably. Your voice is high, and you can’t look me in the eye at all. I know you, you’re turned on by my voice, huh? It’s my accent, isn’t it?” He pressed on, a teasing smirk plastered on his face.

That bastard…..

You were still going to deny it. He was still going to pester you about it for weeks to come.

He’ll come over to you while you were doing some menial task and talk your ear off.

“How’s your day going, lovely?” He’d whisper into your ear. And he would purposefully overemphasize certain words to make his accent more noticeable.

And to make you blush even more.

You avoided eye contact with him while you swabbed the deck, “Why are you speaking like that?”

He grabbed your waist and slot his chin in the crock of your neck, “Speaking like what, love? I’ve always spoken like this.” While smiling like a fool.

You gave him look and turned back to your work. Trying desperately to hide the smile that’s forming on your lips from him. That would just give him more ammunition to continue.

This never ends for you. Even months later, when you foolishly think he has forgotten. He’ll smile at you and talk in an exasperated accent that gets worst with each word.

-

I don’t really like the ending but it’s been a while since I’ve gotten this req. As always, likes, comments, and reposts are appreciated but not obligated.

Tags: @abree234, @louissolovely, @randomhoex, @marceesworld, @dragonqueenfk, @puff-hugs, @childofhecate108, @msmisasoup, @localcowboyd, @thatgothic-nerd, @charliepoopyfart, @rotin0, @nikolaevna-art, @0picels0, @tayharrper, @cielitoot7, @borkbarnes, @simpingmyassoff, @ramielll, @villainouspotential, @poketrainer2270, @hopester08, @avatarkanemi, @dimplewonie, @fandomsunited, @don-tuna,

Taglist & Masterlist & Reqs Info

[rorywritesjunk]

Pampering Buggy

A fic of you pampering Buggy after he has a frustrating day.

Rating: I'd say PG-13 for swearing and some innuendos. Pairing: Buggy x You (no y/n, etc like that) Warnings: Again, some innuendos. Insecure!Buggy. One brief mention of being afraid of your partner. Mostly this is just Insecure!Buggy. More OPLA inspired since Buggy has them eyes that pop like firecrackers. Word Count: 2,300. A/N: Enjoy! This is my first posted fic in a long time, and my first time posting it in this kind of POV. It's not really edited either.

You knew something was up when you saw Cabaji first, the pirate locking eyes with you as he jerked his head in the direction of Buggy and dragged his finger across his throat in a gruesome motion. You winced and nodded, understanding that you were about to get a moody boyfriend in a few minutes. 

Sure enough, the captain came storming up to you a few minutes later. You remained calm, crossing your arms over your chest but staying relaxed as he stood in front of you, mimicking your stance. 

“Hey.” You spoke calmly, like you would to a wild animal. He could still sometimes be a bit unpredictable. “Seems like maybe you’ve had a rough day.”

“Rough day?” He shot back. “I work with a bunch of idiots who can’t seem to do anything right! It’s not like we haven’t pillaged a town before, but you wouldn’t know that by how every one of them fucked something up!”

You were used to these outbursts by now. Sure, the first time he had one it terrified you. You thought he was going to hurt you or something, but after a point you learned how to handle him. Some days required his favorite meal, some days a few drinks, and some days sex. Today, though, you knew it was something different that he needed. It rarely happened, but you knew what to do.

“Well, let’s go wash the day off then.” You replied softly with a smile, holding your hand out to him. The crew was already gone, leaving the two of you alone. You knew they didn’t want to potentially face Buggy’s wrath. “I have one of those fizzy bombs for the bath that you like, and a new mask for your face.”

It was adorable how he perked up at the word ‘bomb’, even if it was just a scented fizzy bath experience, but you knew he enjoyed relaxing in them. He insisted his crew never learn about this because he didn’t want them to think he was getting soft or something with having you around, and you never told the crew, but how else would you get these things? You didn’t leave the tent that often, and really, you asked Cabaji once and surprisingly he listened to your request to get you the things you needed. 

Buggy looked at your hand and took it, grumbling softly as you led him back to his quarters. This kind of day required pampering. You had suggested this to him once after he refused food, alcohol, and sex. In a moment of frustration you asked if he just wanted to drown in the damn bathtub and he perked up. As long as you didn’t use sea water everything was fine. You had never seen him so relaxed and you gradually incorporated face masks, the fizzy bombs, and even brushing his hair for him while he relaxed. 

Once you were both in your shared room, you shut and locked the door. The crew knew better than to barge in, but you knew Buggy would feel humiliated if his crew saw him in the tub with a pink face mask on and a crown braid while he soaked in lavender scented water. You didn’t want that for him so the door always remained locked. If the crew needed something then they would knock.

Buggy moved to the end of the bed and sat down to remove his boots. He was still upset, you knew because he wasn’t even trying to unlace his boots as he tried to force his boots off. You went to start the bath water, letting the tub fill up with hot water. Once it started filling up, you went over to rescue him from his clothes. Without a word you knelt in front of him and started unlacing his boots for him. He looked ready to protest, he didn’t need this kind of help, but one look from you and he kept his mouth shut. 

You took his boots off and set them aside before pulling off his socks. You noted they were getting holes in them, so you set them aside to add them to your mend pile. He stood up to and undid his pants, winking at you while you remained on your knees in front of him. You patted his knee before getting back up. 

“Bath first.” You told him; he pouted. You didn’t give in and helped slide his jacket off his shoulders and down his arms before he let his pants drop to the floor. He stepped out of them while you set the jacket on the bed. You helped unbutton his front. He was perfectly capable of undressing himself, you both knew this, but you wanted him to do as little as possible. You wanted to take care of him, to let him know you were there for him, and that you loved him. The little gestures like removing his shoes, helping him with his jacket, even mending his socks showed him how much you cared for him.

It definitely took him a while to get used to that kind of love language. 

Once he was finally naked, you grabbed his hand and led him over to the tub. Before you could say anything, he wrapped his arms around you, letting his chin rest on the top of your head. You looked up at him, reaching up to stroke his cheek with the back of your hand slowly.

“Get in the tub, Buggy.” You told him gently. “The water should be ready.” 

He nodded and stepped into the tub while you reached over to turn the faucet off. He sank into the water, letting his head rest along the edge while he bent his knees to accommodate his height better. You wished you had a bigger tub. You handed him the fizzy bomb, knowing he’d get more joy out of it if he was the one to drop it in the tub. He held it up high before letting it drop down, a smirk on his face as water splashed out at you. 

“Better take that top off, babe.” He said as he closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. It was a peppermint scented fizzy bomb this time. It felt soothing already. “I can see through your shirt already.”

You just shook your head as you went to his vanity to retrieve a washcloth, cleanser, and the face mask. He didn’t really like having the face paint removed, but you insisted the facemask would feel better on a clean face, so he allowed you to do it. You dipped the water in the tub as the water turned blue and sparkly and gently ran it over Buggy’s face. He winced at first and you waited. You never asked why he did that when you did this, you knew he’d tell you if he wanted. He took a deep breath and exhaled, nodding for you to continue. 

You never rushed this. You took your time removing as much of the face paint as possible with the washcloth, running it along his cheeks, lips, and his eyes while always being careful around his nose.  He sighed deeply as he opened his eyes to look at you. You smiled at him as you squirted some of the cleanser onto your fingers and massaged it onto his face. This stuff always took the makeup off, no matter how thick or old it was. He leaned into your touch, humming contently as you worked the cleanser around his eyes carefully. You used the washcloth to wipe it away, smiling when you saw his bare face. 

He opened his eyes and looked up at you. You swallowed heavily as you looked into his eyes. Damn, they always caught you off guard with how beautiful they were. You wanted to kiss him, to get in the tub with him right then and just stare into his eyes for the rest of the night, but this wasn’t about you, this was about him. Instead, you caressed his cheek gently before grabbing the container for the new face mask.

“You want this, right?” You asked as you held it up. He nodded and closed his eyes once again. You opened it and scooped your fingers into the bright green mixture. He liked it thick on his face, which you were happy to do. He kept his eyes closed as you started on his cheeks, rubbing the mixture thick onto his skin. Buggy leaned into your touch, following the movements of your hand. You smiled, finding him to be very cat-like in that moment, wanting to be touched. You’d never tell him you’d compare him to a cat, however. 

“How are you holding up, Buggy?” You asked as you caked the mask onto his forehead and chin. He could only sigh in response. “Okay, good, now… do you want me to rub some of this stuff on your nose?”

He opened his eyes once again and looked at you. He was thinking it over for a moment before nodding. You were gentle, using your fingertips to massage it all over his bright red nose. You made the mistake of touching his nose without asking the first time you used a face mask on him, and the way he had reacted made you ask every time. He didn’t want to think of his nose or of you acknowledging it, ever, but it was something he had to live with.

You didn’t rush. You didn’t want him to think you were disgusted by it and not want to touch it. You weren’t at all. You found it endearing, and while it caught you off guard the first time you saw him, it definitely was one of your favorite things about him.

You finally finished with his face and dipped your fingers into the water above his shoulders to clean them off. “Hair next?”

“Please.” He mumbled as he started to sink into the tub. You reached in and pulled him back up. You needed to be able to read his head better, and you really didn’t want him to detach it from his body while in the tub. He did it once and it freaked you out.

You removed the bandana and ran your fingers through the bright blue locks, humming in appreciation as you admired the color. Absolutely gorgeous. You made sure to get any tangles or snarls out with your fingers first before running the brush through it. Once you were certain all was well, you picked up the hairbrush and began to run it through his hair in sections. This was your favorite part of the whole pampering. You loved tending to his hair, and he trusted you to do it. You often tried different braid styles on him, from three strand, five strand, fish tail, and his favorite, which was a crown braid. He liked having his hair up like that while he was in bed with you as it kept his hair out of his face and your face. You didn’t ask what style he wanted, you would just do the crown braid again. 

The brush went right through his hair with no issue. He tilted his head back, allowing just a bit more access to the top of his head. You raised yourself up on your knees and held his head in your hands while you kissed his hairline above his forehead, not wanting a mouthful of the face mask. He smirked and cracked an eye open to look at you.

“Can’t keep your hands off me, can you?” He teased. You laughed softly and kissed him again.

“I’ve had my hands on you since you came home, Buggy.” You reminded him with a smile. “And no doubt I’ll have my hands on you again after you get out of that bath.”

He smirked and settled back into the tub once more. He was plotting something, that much you could tell. It would either end with you fully clothed in the bathtub or being thrown onto the bed once he got out of the tub. You needed to be ready for either scenario.

You sectioned his hair once again and began working on the braid. It didn’t take long to get his hair wrapped around his head and tucked into place. He didn’t want bobby pins or clips, insisting they poked him too much, so you did your best to keep it tucked into his hair on its own. By the time you wake up tomorrow, no doubt half of it will be undone and he’ll whine about needing his hair fixed. You would fix it in a heartbeat.

This was when you had to be wary of him as you stood up. His Devil Fruit ability always caught you off guard when he knew you were done. He didn’t want it to end, so you kept your eyes on him as you began to remove your own clothes. You knew either way you were going to end up naked tonight, and you really didn’t want your clothes soaked.

You set your clothes away from the tub before coming up behind him and tapping him on the shoulder. He looked up at you and sat up, scooting closer to the other end of the tub to allow you to climb in behind him. Once you were settled, you pulled him back to let his head rest against your chest. He crossed his arms over his own chest and you grabbed hold of his hands, locking your fingers together as you pressed your lips to his earlobe.

“I love you, Buggy.”

“I know.” He mumbled. And, though you almost missed him saying it, he replied with, “I love you too.”

[undiscovered-horizon]

A sharp tongue - Shanks x Reader

SUMMARY: Flyting is the art of exchanging poetic insults. Arriving at a port town, Shanks is willing to face the local flyting champion. But when he finally meets you, it's not insults that come to his mind.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.3k

a/n: it was either Shanks or Nikolai Lantsov

The tavern appeared somewhat rugged and unkept in the low, yellow light of a few candles. They weren’t enough to make all of the interior visible. While most of the tables and patrons sitting at them seemed to disappear in the darkness, the bar counter was like a light in the tunnel; a lighthouse for all those looking for a drink, a good chat or the entrance to the demimonde.

Aisha, a rather frail woman with an ashy skin tone, was drying glasses and cups, humming an old shanty, when the door to the Blue Dragon tavern swung open. Used to the noise of Marines and pirates alike, the bartender only cocked her eyebrow as she watched the men entering her establishment. As the scourge of the seas usually does, the unfamiliar guests looked rough, although Aisha did make a notice of how politely they carried themselves, no matter how strange that might be.

One of the man, with crimson hair and three scars across his face, sat on the bar stool in front of Aisha. Despite the dark circles around his eyes, the sun damage peppering his skin and dark stubble covering his jaw, the man looked kind. Something about the roundness of his shoulders made him appear smaller, more docile.

“Welcome to Kuri Island, where the Devil bids you farewell,” Aisha announced bitterly. God knows how much she wished to dfind herself anywhere ele but home. “What’re you drinking, lads?”

The pirate captain gave her a smile.

“Give us your best rum and whiskey. We’re kind of celebrating.”

“On it.”

Heavy glass bottles clicked brightly as Aisha set them on the counter. The crewmembers snatched their drinks as soon as they could, taking a short break from their merry conversations to give the bartender a grateful nod. Then, they’d disappear into the darkness of Blue Dragon, their hoarse laughter following them like an echo of yesterday’s joy.

The red-haired man did not move from his spot at the counter and neither did any of his crewmen sit beside him. As she was going about her mundane chores, Aisha kept glancing towards the captain. He stared ahead, lost in thought, and peacefully sipped on the dark rum. Thoughtfulness is rarely a characteristic ascribed to pirates. Nevertheless, there he was - a pirate unlike any other.

The second time Shanks talk to Aisha was on his own volition. She was filleting citruses when he leaned over the bar and spoke in a low voice:

“Who’s that?”

Aisha looked in the direction the red-haired pirate pointed out with a sharp, meaningful nod of his head. Her gaze fell on a character she’s grown quite familiar with. Sitting alone at her table, the silent woman played with an old, silver coin that was no longer used. There was a glass in front of her but it was empty now. Low light of a nearly burnt-out candle played a game of shadows on her face, painting her features once terrifying and once divine.

“A flyter,” Aisha answered. Shanks nodded, clearly pondering something. “Best goddamn one in this part of the waters. They call her Snaketongue. I’ll let you guess why. If you’re feeling up for it, you can try to challenge her.”

Shanks looked at the bartender with a confident but curious grin.

“Wish me luck.”

Aisha chuckled.

“Luck won’t help,” she warned him.

The pirate captain took his glass and bottle of rum only to set them down in front of the mysterious woman. She looked up at him with a quietioningly raised eyebrow but Shanks only sat comfortably in his chair. An adventurous glink in his eye and she knew exactly why he had approached her.

“Out flyt will test your speed and wit,” she began while leaning forward, “reveal a shameful lack of grit.”

Shanks picked up the bottle of rum.

“Whether I win or lose this flyt,” he spoke as he poured himself a glass of alcohol, “your company is much delight.”

He winked at her but she only scoffed.

“If delight is what you seek in a flyt, I’m afraid you’ve found yourself in plight.” The woman leaned on her forearms, her fingers intertwined. The small flame of the candle warmed her face but also have her something of a reverse halo - a cloud of darkness crowned her face. “A man must be out of mind, to approach a snake expecting it not to bite. If you’re a pirate without grit, be honest and admit.”

The red-haired pirate did not let himself be left behind. He also leaned forward, a curious shadow prancing across his handome, rugged face as the struggling flame danced between them. The tension between the strangers almost putting it out.

“Why should my forte be grit, if I can’t charm a woman with it?” Shanks asked before taking a long sip of his rum.

“Perhaps you can’t speak rough because your spirit isn’t tough. Or maybe you’re not man enough?”

Shanks let out a raspy laugh.

“Oh, I am a man, no doubt,” he assured with amusement. “Find your proof among this crowd.” In a casual manner, he pointed over his shoulder towards his scattered, jolly crew. “I am the best pirate around.”

“And yet you’re less harmful than a trout. Looking like a wet dog with a pout.” The woman tilted her head, a dangerous glint appeared in her darkened eyes. Something wicked sprouted in her mind. “The ladies in town seem to be in drought. I don’t suppose you know anything about?”

But Shanks didn’t seem to take much offence in your insult at his prowess. His lips curved into a sly smirk.

“As true as your words might be, I fail to see disgust when you look at me. Your pretty eyes are shining bright. You’re starting to like me, am I right?” he asked with raised eyebrows. It seemed that he already knew the answer and just wanted to rub it in, gloat in his triumphant trick.

The woman pursed her lips and nodded slowly.

“Your words are sweet, I’ll give you that,” she said with a sigh. “It’s starting to amuse me, our little chat. Although I’m still waiting for an insult to be spat.”

“Sharp words are not on my mind when your charm made me blind.” His toothy grin is glistening in the low candlelight. “A more enamouring woman I doubt I will find. So, would you be so kind and agree to be dined?”

She bit her lower lip to stop herself from laughing out loud. Although she shook her head with disapproval, she was undoubtedly amused with his antics.

“How could such an offer be declined?” she asked. “I’m not sure if you’re terrible at flyting or great.” It was both strange and wonderful to hear her speak naturally. “Despite your avid refusal to actually partake in flyting.”

It seemed she really did want Shanks to be at least a little rude. Having said that, she was still debating whether she should think his refusal tedious or alluring.

“Usually I buy a lady a drink before getting mean with her.”

“Does it work for you?”

“Without fail.”

A moment of intimate yet tense silence falls between them; a quietness reserved for pondering and weighing chances. Should she or should she not?

The woman takes Shank’s bottle of rum and pours some into her glass.

“And so I succumb to a charming pirate and his rum. Who knows, maybe he’ll get to make me…” she cut her sentence short and cleared her throat. “Nevermind.”

But he did mind. God only knows how much he did mind.

[gingernut1314]

Face Your Fears

Luffy x GN!Reader

Summary: Deep in the jungle, you are faced with your biggest fear and your captain is more than happy to help you.

Warnings: fluff, fear of spiders, very mild spoilers for the anime (Alabasta arc to Post-Enies Lobby arc mentioned), use of Y/N

Word Count: 1.4K

A/N: This is my first "full-fledged" Luffy fic soooo I hope it turned out okay lol. Regardless, I hope you all enjoy!! 🩷🩷🩷

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You stood deathly still in the middle of the thick, dense jungle. Sweat ran down your skin in pools, the muggy heat doing nothing to help calm you down. Your muscles had grown so taut you feared they might snap under the pressure. Your limbs were frozen in place as you fought against the rising panic in your chest. 

This was a nightmare. Your worst nightmare.

The one thing you feared above everything else. 

And you were stuck--unable to move to free yourself from the situation. 

You whimpered pitifully as your captain came hopping back down from the tree he had climbed, bouncing like some ball as he called your name, arm extended to show off the stick he had found for you to admire.

“This one is so much cooler then the one you found. Usopp is going to be so jealo--why are you all pale?” Luffy asked, titling his strawhat adorned head and blinking his long eyelashes slowly at you as he tried to figure out what was wrong.

Everything was wrong. So, so wrong. 

“H-Help.” Your tightened throat croaked out. “Help me. Please.” Luffy’s easy going nature shifted instantly, steady seriousness filling his dark brown eyes as they scanned the small amount of cleared space you both stood in.

“What’s wrong? Someone here?” 

“Luffy.” You stressed, that nightmare growing closer and closer. He snapped back to you and you found the strength within you to shakily lift your hand to point to your other, already outstretched arm. “Please--get it off.” 

His eyes followed your guidance to find the big, furry spider crawling its way slowly up your arm. One that had some how, thanks your horrible luck, had found its way to land on you. 

But, instead of instantly coming to your rescue, that signature grin of his stretched across his face, bringing attention to the thin scar just under his left eye. 

“Cooool! Where did you find that tarantula?” Luffy asked, coming into your orbit. He took your wrist in his strong, warm hand only so he could observe the creature more closely.

“Get it off!” You panicked, your heart feeling as if it might burst out of your chest. “Please, please, please get it off!” Your panic turned into a near sob of fear, your eyes beginning to sting with it.

“‘Kay.” Luffy shurgged, happily scooping the too-many legged monster off your skin. 

The frozen spell the vile beast had put you under fell away and you scrambled from Luffy, bumping into a nearby tree in your rush. You frantically swiped and scrubbed at your skin to try and get rid of the icky feel of all those furry legs. 

“He’s not bad, Y/N. He’s friendly, see.” Luffy said, bounding back over to you, spider in hand, to show you just how ‘firendly’ it was. 

“NO! Luffy!” You screamed, sprinting away from your captain who continued to happily chase you with it like this was a game, that cackling, mischievous laugh of his never ceasing.

“He’s so tiny and fluffy! He’s not gonna hurt you.” 

“Tiny? Look at it’s fangs!” You screeched as Luffy hopped infront of you again. You were quick to freeze in your place before you could run head first into Luffy and the horrid demon he held. Luffy smiled brightly at you as he raised the spider up all too close to his eyes.  

“You know it would be the coolest if we could have fangs too.” He mused, lightly petting the tarantula who seemed too at ease within Luffy’s hold. “Like….this!” Luffy snapped his head back towards you, both his canine teeth stretched, thanks to his Devil Fruit powers, to resemble that of long, sharp fangs. You huffed in annoyance at him.

“Can you please just--throw it away or something? It’s--I don’t like it.” Luffy gave a loud whine in protest, teeth snapping back to normal.

“But--Y/N, just come look at him. He’s super cute. And you like super cute animals. He’s like Chopper--well…expect he’s not a reindeer and can’t talk.” Luffy said, starting towards you once more. You took a step back with every step he took forward. 

“It sure as hell is nowhere near as cute as Chopper. I don’t want to look at it.” You snapped. 

“He’s more scared of you then you are of him, I swear.” You yelped when your back hit another tree, blocking you from moving any further. Your heart began to race as you spied the demon still resting in Luffy’s plam. 

“Luffy--I’m serious.” 

“And I’m serious too. Can you just look at him? Please? I’ll hold him the whole time.” Luffy begged, thankfully stopping in his journey towards you. You watched him and the monster for a very, very long moment. A moment you took to try and calm your heaving breath. 

“Will it make you quit bugging me with that--thing, if I do?” Luffy nodded rapidly, his smiling growing ever the more wide. “Don’t you dare more or I swear I’ll kill you.”

“Still as a statue.” Luffy said, making a show of freezing up his body. You approached him as slow as a snail, your breath becoming heavy and short all over again. 

“It’s okay. You know I won’t let anything happen to you.” Luffy smoothed as you came to a stop a few inches before him. His words helped steady your breathing, but made your heart pitter-patter in a different rhythm then that of fear or panic. 

A rhythm your heart had been beating for your captain for a long, long time now. Ever since he had dragged you from your little back water home and took you on all the adventures you had ever dreamed of. 

From wicked, hook-wielding Warlords, islands in the sky full of angels, strange games amongst enemy pirates, to islands flooded with water, and the start of new friendships--that rhythm had been there, sounding only for him. For the man who was making your dreams become a reality and whose kind and warm, yet strong nature pushed you to grow more then you could have ever thought possible.

And here he was again, pushing you to over come this seemingly silly fear of yours in such a--loving and caring way that just made that rhythm beat all the more fast.

“Its…” It was ugly. It was just as horrible to look at in Luffy hand as it was on your arm…but it was fluffy…and you did enjoy a good fluffy animal. “It looks like he’s wearing orange socks.” You observed, glancing up at Luffy whose smile was brighter then the sun beating down on you.

“He does! That’s what we should call him then. Socks!” Luffy broke his statued state to pet the spider again. “Hi, Socks. You’re gonna love it on the Sunny. We’ll even have Franky build you a tank--Oo! Right next to the aquarium!” You snapped away from the spider with a shake of your head. 

“No. That thing--”

“Socks.” Luffy reminded you chipperly. You only huffed. 

“Socks is not coming with us back to the Sunny.” Luffy whined again as you started for your dropped supply pack. 

“But--he’ll be lonely here.” You felt your skin prick in more fear when Luffy’s voice was much closer to you then it had been before. You hesitantly looked to the side to find a thousand beady little eyes staring back at you. You gave a throaty scream that you tried to keep as muffled as you physically could, all but throwing yourself backward.

“He--he has family here, I’m sure.” You said as calmly as you could, pulling your pack onto your shoulder. Luffy groaned, but agreed with you. 

“Yeah.” You watched him place Socks on a moss covered log, saying a quick goodbye to the furry beast. Luffy’s sad face made you feel just the tiniest bit sorry for him…for him and Socks. 

“Luffy…” You said as he grabbed up his stick again and you both started back through the jungle. “I’m sorry we couldn’t keep Socks.” Luffy shrugged.

“Eh. You’re right. He has a family here. A life. I couldn’t take him from that.” Luffy said, that lovely smile of his pulling to his face. “Besides,” He continued, throwing an arm over your shoulders and pulling you into his side. You felt your skin heat and heart start up its pitter-pattering all over again at his closeness. “I wouldn’t want Socks to keep scaring you like that.” He said, nuzzling his face into your cheek. You leaned into his affectionate touch, savoring anything he would give you. 

“Thank you…maybe we can find a less--leggy animal to keep as a pet.” Luffy lit up like one of Usopp’s fireworks. 

“Really?” You nodded, spurring Luffy’s hold on you to fall away despite your want to keep him close. “Awesome! I’m gonna go look!” He stated before bouncing off deeper into the jungle, leaving you to try and calm your racing heart all over again.

Taglist: @fanaticsnail

[djarinslover]

Wanna Be Your Girlfriend

Hii, this is based off the ask *here*. I'm desperate for more Nami fic ideas, so feel free to send asks in. I mean, LOOK at her. She's beautiful and I would die for her. I tried to keep the scene recaps short bc I'm sure mostly everyone has watched the show and don't need to read what happens too. Happy reading!

Pairing; Nami x Fem!Reader (no y/n, no description)

Warnings; canon violence, swearing

Word Count; 2.2k

You're sitting with Zoro after Zeff helped patch him up. You're the surgeon of the crew but you never had to deal with wounds like the one Zoro was suffering with. It was your first time seeing a wound like that. You mainly dealt with bruises, cuts, scrapes and the occasional broken bone back home in your village. Nami wanders in, her brow furrowed in concern.

"Hey, how are you doing?" she asks.

"Me?" You turn to look at her. "I'm fine. It's Zoro we should be worrying about."

"I can worry about both of you."

You feel your face grow hot. Ever since you joined Luffy's crew, you've developed a crush on the redheaded navigator. You thought she was a badass, kind (when she wanted to be) and a cool person to be around. You wanted to know everything about her, wanted to be around her constantly. But to make sure you didn't come off as a lovesick puppy, you steered clear of spending too much time with Nami. She probably didn't even feel the same way and there was no sense in trying to encourage the crush when you had to spend weeks on a ship with no escape. Unless you wanted to take your chance with the ocean.

"Can I have a minute with him?" Nami interrupts your train of thought.

"Of course!"

You check over Zoro's bandages quickly before leaving the room in search of Luffy or Usopp. Zoro was the only one who knew about the crush you had. That was simply because he caught you rehearsing what you would say to Nami during literally any interaction. He was good at keeping his mouth shut, so if you had to wish one of them caught you, you were glad it was him. Luffy and Usopp wouldn't be able to make it past dinner before they let something slip.

You wander from the ship back onto the dock just to see Luffy being thrown through the door of the restaurant. In shock, you watch as Arlong stomps towards him. Fear gripped your limbs as you watched the two fight. You couldn't do anything - you were a doctor, not a fighter! As Arlong goes to sink his teeth into Luffy's neck, Nami's voice calls out.

"Arlong, wait!"

She marches past without even looking at you. You watch as she walks towards the fishman, map of the Grand Line in hand. "I have it. I have the map. I got it for you, just like I said I would."

"Nami. What are you doing?" Luffy pants out.

"I tried to tell you, Luffy. I was never on your crew. I only joined up with you so I could steal the map."

You feel like everything goes silent as her words hit your ear. The world spins around you, making you nauseous as Nami walks to Arlong's ship. Arlong throws Luffy into the ocean, casting you a glance before following the redhead to his ship. You're torn between going after Nami and jumping in to get Luffy. Both moments pass you by as the ship sets sail and Sanji jumps in to save your captain. He heaves him onto the dock as you snap out your stupor and rush to help.

Luffy lifts his head as he asks, "Where's Nami?"

"She's gone. She's a member of Arlong's crew," Usopp answers.

An hour later, after setting sail, you're sitting in the galley staring at your hands. You couldn't wrap your head around what had just happened. No way Nami went with Arlong. No way she betrayed you and the rest of the crew. No way she was only on the ship to just to steal a map. You didn't want to believe she had been lying the entire time you knew her, that she didn't care for you. For the crew.

Luffy comes in with Usopp, Sanji and Zoro followeing close behind, his usual grin on his face. You eye him skeptically, frown deepening as he walks to the table you're sitting at.

"What are you possibly smiling about? Nami left us!"

"Don't worry about that. We're going to get her back. We can't go to the Grand Line without all of our crew."

"What?" You shoot to your feet. "You mean it?"

"Of course. A good pirate captain never lets a member of his crew stay behind."

Your throat feels tight and your eyes burn with the threat of tears. Luffy was going to get Nami back. You couldn't ask for a better captain. Straightening up, you look him in the eye. "Thank you, Luffy."

"So, we're going after Nami. How are we going to find her?" Usopp asked.

"Yeah, we don't even know where she is," Zoro chimed in.

"I know someone who does." He slams a bag onto the table, causing whatever was in it to groan. He opened it, presenting Buggy the clown's head. You jolt back in disgust.

"Hello, boys!" the clown head cheers, giggling.

You end up in Coco Village to look for Nami, according to Buggy that's where Arlong and his crew lived. You follow Luffy to where Nami is talking to a villager, looking for the ransom money the fishman is owed for the month. When she turns around to find the five of you standing there, she hesitates. You feel your heart speed up - you were unsure if it was because of the betrayal you felt or the longing of wanting to be with Nami.

"Luffy? What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

"This is where I belong."

"I don't believe that," Luffy says. "This is not you."

"No. This isn't the me you want me to be," Nami spits out.

"Nami . . . if you need our help-"

"No. I don't need any of you."

Her eyes linger on you for a moment too long that makes you sick. You would've cut your heart out for her before if she asked. Now she's here saying she doesn't want you.

"I never want to see you again." Her eyes once more meet yours before she turns and walks away, taking your shattered heart with her.

You numbly follow Luffy to the house on the edge of the tangerine grove. You barely processed Nami leaving you in the first place, now you had to deal with her never wanting to see you again. Were all those little moments you had with her fake? Nothing more than an act? You didn't want to believe it, that your feelings were completely one-sided.

In the house at the end of the tangerine grove Nojiko, Nami's sister, invites you in after being promised a meal from Sanji. She told you what happened to their mother when they were young and why she, and the town, hated Nami. You began to understand why she betrayed you; you may have even done the same thing if you were in the same situation. Instead of staying angry at Nami, you directed that rage to Arlong and the rest of his crew for exploiting Nami's pain.

After helping Sanji do the dishes, everyone rushes outside when you heard commotion. Nami was stabbing herself in the arm before Luffy grabbed her arm. The two spoke for a while, you itching to bandage Nami's cuts. In front of you, the small town of Coco Village was on fire thanks to Arlong.

"Let's go," Luffy rasps.

"Right!" the four of you chime.

You run to Nami's side with bandages, cleaning the cuts before she even realizes what you're doing. She flinches when she finally notices you, trying to inch her arm out of your grasp. You grip her arm ever so slightly roughly to make sure she doesn't move it more.

"You shouldn't even be doing this for me."

"Why? You're injured. It's my job to help."

"But I was such an ass to all of you," Nami whispers. "Especially to you."

"None of that matters. Your sister told us what happened to your mother. I forgive you, Nami."

Fresh tears sparkle in her beautiful eyes. You brush them away with a soft touch to her cheek, finishing wrapping her arm with the gauze and then helping her stand. "Let's go kick some fish ass."

Storming the park as the sun rises, you help Zoro and Sanji fight the pirates trying to protect 'Arlong Park'. It was surprisingly satisfying to punch several of them in the face.

"Damn, Doc," Zoro whistles. "Remind me to never piss you off."

"For someone who swore she doesn't to hurt others, you're doing well," Sanji comments.

"Yeah, well . . . they hurt someone I care about. It becomes personal then."

You notice the smirk Zoro throws you but refuse to acknowledge it. When you see Nami speeding down the hill, your heart jumps to your throat. She crashes into Usopp and Zoro first, panting, "I'm so glad you're okay."

She lets them go, turning to you to smile her bright beautiful smile. "I'm glad you're okay, too."

"Me, too. Uh . . . I mean, you too. I mean-" You sigh, biting your tongue.

Suddenly, the ground rumbles. The building that Luffy was still in was falling down. With a gasp, Nami grabs your hand tightly, lacing your fingers together. You could barely enjoy the moment through fearing for Luffy's safety once more. But the fear wasn't needed; your rubbery captain was fine as per usual. You squeeze Nami's hand in relief.

Later, after the confrontation with Luffy's grandfather, you're sitting next to Nami by a fire. "Lots of excitement today, huh?" you say.

"Yeah. I'm going to sleep for a week after all this," she answers.

Swallowing, you decide it's now or never. "Nami, I wannabeyourgirlfriend," you rush out.

"I'm . . . sorry?"

"I want to be your girlfriend."

She looks at you in surprise, making your cheeks flare with heat. What if you just made an absolute fool of yourself in front of her and now you have to deal with the consequences for the rest of your life on that damned ship?

Nami must've known you were in your head because she places a hand on your cheek to bring your gaze back to hers. She has the bright smile on her face. "I thought you'd never say anything. Usopp owes me twenty Berry."

"You placed a bet on when I'd ask you? Wait, when did you even know?"

"I've liked you for a while now. I just didn't want to say anything because I knew what I was going to have to do." She shrugged. "I didn't want to hurt you. Then when Usopp asked when I thought you would confess, I figured it had to be obvious I liked you, too. Guess it just took a dickhead fishman to make you see, huh?"

You laugh, utterly overjoyed with the fact that Nami likes you too. She likes you and wants to be with you. "I guess so. But hey, at least I finally got there, right?"

She nudges you with a laugh. "Right." Nami's gaze softens as she looks at you. "Meet me in the morning? There's someone I want you to meet."

"Sure."

The next morning, you meet Nami outside the entrance of the hut you slept in. She took your hand with a grin, leading you to a part past the tangerine grove. There was a large tree with a stake next to it, the name Belle Mere carved into it. You look at your new girlfriend curiously. She blushes.

"This is my mom. I wanted to bring you here. Two of the most important women in my life."

Tears burn in the corner of your eyes as you look down at the grave. You take her hand, running your thumb softly over hers. "I'm so glad you wanted to introduce us." You direct your next sentence to Belle. "You raised an incredible, amazing daughter. I hope you're immensely proud of her."

Nami is staring at you with stars in her eyes, squeezing your hand. She brings you closer to her until you're standing pressed against one another. She cups your face with her free hand, eyes darting all over your face, brushing a stray tear off your cheek. You felt the tension swell, anxiety building up in your chest until you say -

"Kiss me."

Nami swoops in, leaning down to press her lips to yours. The bliss you feel is blinding as you finally get to kiss her. It's soft, sweet, everything you imagined it would be. When you part, you're both breathless. You meet her piercing gaze.

"You're not leaving again, are you?" you ask.

She brings your intwined hands up to her lips, kissing the back of your hand. "If I ever leave, you're coming with me. But no, I'm not leaving. Not until we find the One Piece."

The two of you share one more kiss, giddiness filling each step you take back to the ship.

[since-im-already-here]

'Permit me to remind you'

Klahadore drabble

(Image Source: https://woka.com.ar/?s=captain-kuro-by-@tsuyomaru-one-piece-pictures-one-piece-qq-3Go3Y0Ua)

Word Count: 2,005

The night began as the sun bid farewell to the sky and greeted the stars with familiarity, deeming it an appropriate time to get into bed with a nice warm drink and cosy pillows, which is exactly what you were doing for the young lady Kaya. Reaching for the scorching pot of tea, you pour her a small teacup and bring them over to the newly tucked in and settled Kaya as she reclines against her cushions.

“Klahadore is insistent that I ensure you drink your remedy, my lady. I hope the flavour has improved with the small amount of honey I've added. A little sweetness goes a long way,” you directed her, she nodded and gave a small apprehensive smile. Her illness was depicted in her pale face, hollowed eyes and the dryness of her mouth. You returned her smile before reaching behind your back and collecting a few of the sugar-coated treats you had managed to swipe from the kitchen without the staff noticing. With a sly smile, you offered them to her, 

“Speaking of sweetness, I stole some biscuits from the kitchen stash for you,” you gave her a small wink, offering a final hushed command of, “Don’t tell Klahadore.” 

Kaya begins to giggle at your comment, but immediately slips into a sinister and dry coughing fit, prompting you to reach behind her and pull her into a more upright position to clear her airway as she finishes her collection of raspy, dry breaths. You wince as she coughs into her hands, offering her your handkerchief you keep tucked within your sleeve to collect her illness parting from her lips within. 

“I don’t feel well enough to drink right now. I just want to sleep, please?” Kaya wheezes through her words. From hearing her shaken breath and dry wheeze, you decide that, just for tonight, she can skip her remedy. You place the tea and the biscuits back onto the tray you brought them in, ready to face the disapproving tone and glare of the chief of staff. The same chief of staff that you, two nights ago, shared in an interesting experience with. 

It seemed all it took for the both of you, was a bottle of sticky-sweet port wine shared in the afterhours of a particularly long day of tending to your duties as lady’s maid to the young Lady Kaya. Once the staff bid you both goodnight for the evening with a curt nod and a small, polite smile; a small glass of wine shared between two leaders of staff was followed by another. And then another.

As our memory drew into a small haze, you walked throughout the halls with the full tray clutched firmly in your hands. You were unable to recall the moment from when you had finished the last of the sweet wine to having your arms draped around the neck of your raven-haired coworker. 

Your lips pushing against each other, gasping for breaths as your limbs entangled in the wine cellar against the racking barrels as they syphoned the crimson liquid into the barrels below. This was not how you expected the night to progress; but the two of you had many moments you could’ve considered flirtatious leading into the evening’s event. 

Closing your eyes now; you could still feel his breath fan against your neck as you controlled your verbal gasps and whimpers against each other’s flesh as your bodies joined at the lips. You could still feel his hair falling onto your forehead as he drew away from your neck to gaze longingly into your eyes. The awkward feeling of his glasses inching down his nose and falling onto your face. You remember feeling his hand remove itself from your hips, your jaw falling slack as you witnessed him press his inner palm against his glasses to redraw them atop his nose, only to then force it way under your shirt to grasp your hip again - the warmth of his gloved hands welcome against your flesh.

You knew it was not becoming of a lady to join in entangling yourself with a gentleman in such a way, especially in a place as exposed as a wine cellar. This was not your first dalliance with a man, but it was your first with a colleague. 

Reopening your eyes, you attempt once more to rid your thoughts of their waves of memory, the warm feeling of anxiety and loss of control clawing their way from your chest to your jugular; discomfort clutching at your lips and souring the flavour. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“We need to stop,” you whispered in between his bruising kisses atop your lips, “someone could hear. Someone could-.” Your words were syphoned into the mouth of your lover in a similar likeness to the barrels racking beside you.  

“Just a little more,” as he pressed his lips into your neck, tongue swirling at the pulse and feeling the elevation in your heartbeat. “Please, darling. Just-...” He trailed a flurry of exuberant oscillations of his smooth lips against your jaw to your cheek, “-Please.” 

He began losing himself in the feeling of your body wrapped around his, your arms around his shoulders and his own raking over your hips to grasp the flesh of your back in a desperate clawing motion to clutch you closer. Another kiss was shared in a long and drawn out caress, followed by another. Then another. The stagger and rapidity of his kisses did nothing to deter the intended silence being met in the air; your whimpers painting the atmosphere with their melodic serenade. 

“Klah-’’ you squeaked, another attempt to steer his passionate kiss to a halt being met with no reaction. This verbal warning didn’t seem to sway him in the slightest. It almost seemed like his name meant nothing to him in the heat of the moment. 

It wasn't until footsteps were heard that it broke him from continuing to chase the feeling of your lips against his own in exuberate moments. At the rise and fall of pattered footsteps against the cement floor, heels clicking and echoing within the chamber as they made their approach. The fear of being caught by his colleagues was all too much for both of you; yet you were still entangled within each other’s arms as stiff as the portraits painted above the cellar walls. As they retrieved a bottle of wine, they left the cellar with their heavy-laden footsteps trailing behind them in tow. 

You both breathed a small sigh of relief as the cellar door closed behind the unsuspecting coworker, your smile breaking against your lips as he turned back to face you again. His eyes softened when his gaze met with yours seeming to, just now, remember that you both were working. He leant forward to rest his forehead against your own, the glasses again falling from the top of his nose down to the tip and brushed against the tip of your nose. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Lost within the spiral of your own thoughts, you start to wonder if it was just one night to him. Did it mean as little to him as he made it out to be? There was no whisper of a word or a murmur to inform you of anything other than the sort. No acknowledgement of the event even occurring the following day as you fell into the rhythm of working together in perfect synchrony. 

Continuing to the kitchen, you set down the full tray of hot blue tea and stolen biscuits against the sink to prepare disassembling the arrangement meant to be presented to the lady under your charge. At eyeing the sugary treats atop the porcelain tray, your anxiety begins to elevate with the rapidity of your heartbeat that you did, indeed, steal those biscuits to bring to Lady Kaya from the pantry. And you did, indeed, bring the full tray back down to the kitchen, knowing full well that Klahadore would be less than pleased that Kaya did not drink her remedy that night. 

Hearing the barely audible tap of soft shoes upon the kitchen floor causes you to briefly halt your disassembly of items, retracting your hand from the handle of the teapot you had begun to pour down the sink. Resetting it upon the tray, you rotated your neck to rid it of the small click within before narrowing your eyes and curling your lip. 

“Why is the tea here?” the smooth voice purred from behind you, “She needs to have her tea daily, Dear. And biscuits? You know better than-.” His voice halted as you thumped your palms first on the kitchen counter before turning to face him.

“Klahaore, I don’t know better. I know best,” you challenged him, your brows decreasing their position on your forehead, “A simple biscuit will not cause her harm, and we both know she needs something in stomach or she’ll feel sick from the tea as it hits it.” You stepped closer to him, raising your chin to glare into his eyes. His jaw slackened slightly, his breath hitching at your verbal challenge and the proximity you drew yourself within.

After several unspoken and silent moments pass between you, he clears his throat and readjusts his glasses with the heel of his palm. His mouth begins to open to begin another order towards you, only to halt at your next interruption.

“If that will be all, I shall take my leave for the night,” you rotated your shoulders, standing firm in your upright and formal posture and awaiting dismissal from your superior. Klahadore furrowed his brows, not truly understanding where this animosity and surliness had come from.

"See me in my office," he ordered, stepping closer to your body. You stepped back from his approach, unbreaking in your defiant expression nor the rigidity in your posture.

“My working hours begin between the time my lady rises in the morning, and concludes once she is settled for the night,” you quipped in return, “If I am to be required to attend a meeting with my superior, I will do so in the hours I am employed within.”

"I am giving you an order, darling. You will come to my office now," he informed you, his tone strong and low. He stepped towards you once more, which you followed by stepping back to keep yourself an arms length away.

"And I am saying I will not," you smirked in return. His eyes darkened, his jaw tensing behind his pursed lips. 

With that small smirk, you begin to push yourself past him, only for him to grab your wrist firmly and pull you against his torso. Your eyes fill with disdain as you glance up at him, though you imagine it isn't too threatening with your cheeks flushed with the contact he was providing to you. He holds you wordlessly, staring down into your eyes with a final warning-look. 

“Sir,” you spat, looking down to the position his hand was remaining circling your wrist within, before floating your gaze back up to his spectacles framing his dark eyes. He breaks from gripping your wrist and hovers his hand to the side of your face, almost brushing the heel of his palm against your cheek in a gentle caress. 

“We need to discuss what happened in the wine cellar,” he whispered in such a low and intimate purr of his voice, it prompted your cheeks to flush with further warmth than the initial contact of his grasp on your hand. You gulped back your collected saliva in your mouth, darting your gaze between his eyes.

“And what happened in the wine cellar, Klahadore?” you feigned your ignorance, recollecting the exact moment he was referring to but choosing to play coy with a smirk threatening to find residency back atop your lips. 

His lips ticked up to the left hand side of his lips as he stooped lower to your face, whispering gently in another purred tone.

“My darling, permit me to refresh your memory.”

Apprehensive tag list @fanaticsnail @writingmysanity @sordidmusings

[cashiedoodles]

DAY 27: SLEEPOVER.

I’ve seen too many cute sleeping buggy pictures. He is a menace.

[randomrecsknifedrawer]

OPLA Zosan Fics (P2)

Worse Fates by 9_of_Clubs

“Get out.” Zoro tries to snarl, but his voice trembles.

“Get out.” Sanji chortles, above him. Dark humor laces through the words, laughing but laugh-less, and worry drenches into them, doesn’t bother to disguise itself. “Can you believe this guy?” He asks the ceiling.

---

Or, often, pain gets worse at night. Or, can there ever be enough wound tending, really? Or, I read about Sanji's other backstory and couldn't resist a little kiss of angst. Another little coda to the OPLA finale.

Word Count: 1,763  - Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Wound Tending, Touch Starved, OPLA

orange peels and sips of gin by caddigan

"So it’s no surprise that Luffy eventually comes up with the idea of a crew bonding activity- truth or dare. Zoro manages to get drinks on the agenda as well, so now all five crew members lay spread out beneath the deck in the mess hall, lights dim and conversation raucous."

truth or dare is, in hindsight, a horrible idea.

Word Count: 4,003 - Fluff, Team As a Family, Truth or Dare, Bickering, OPLA

Not Special by socksock **accounts only

The Strawhats are a group of huggers. And Zoro's fine with it. Except when it's the waiter.

Word Count: 9,843 - Idiots to Lovers, Flirting, OPLA, Mature

You'll whisper lies to me (and one of them will be true) by Anonymous

Sanji introduces Zoro to Two Truths and a Lie. He only ever plays with Zoro, and all his lies are shit.

(Alternatively: Sanji subjects himself to the mortifying ordeal of being known by Zoro. He does everything in his power to ensure Zoro doesn't realize that's what's happening.)

Word Count:  5,277 - Drinking Games, Miscommunication, Getting to Know Each Other, OPLA

lovefool by olgaphobia

“You're trying to distract me,” Zoro says.

Sanji hums, drops his head onto Zoro's shoulder, and feels his own pain, feels Zoro's intake of breath. Sits there, kinda sleepy now, Usopp making snuffling noises horizonal on the other side of the table, and Zoro very warm under his cheek. Maybe he is too drunk, because his eyes are closing and his breathing is evening out, and the hurt isn't that much, anymore, can barely feel it at all.

“You little shit,” Zoro says eventually.

Sanji grins to himself, says more to Zoro’s neck, “You think?"

/ / /

The many loves of Sanji's life.

Alternatively: Of course he's fucking with him.

Word Count: 9,110 - Getting Together, Idiots in Love, Character Study, Food Metaphors, OPLA

Understanding by kairiSparda

Zoro still recovering from his injury doesn't really understand the Waiter from the Baratie.

Sanji the only one with some experience in injury treatment feels the need to help him recover, after all he can't leave his dear captain without his moss for brains first mate.

Word Count: 3,350 - Injury Recovery, Pre-Relationship, Character Study, OPLA

[miistymemorii]

Cherry

pairing: sanji x reader

summary: you loudly and publicly make a note on Sanji's drunken appearance, much to his embarrassment. He decides to retaliate, much to your embarrassment.

rating: this one wasn’t SUPPOSED to get suggestive but the WHORE in me jumped out so 18+ !!!

From what you had seen, Sanji was the member of the crew that drank the lightest. He was the one that still had a semi-clear mind by the end of the night, making sure that everyone got into bed safely. He also liked to savor everything morsel of sustenance that entered his body, so he took his time with alcohol, treating every drink like its own experiment for him to study.

However, for whatever reason, this night was different.

Zoro had a headache, so he was sitting in the booth with the group, but he had his eyes closed, a glass of water in front of him as he sat with his eyes closed. You wondered if he was asleep, but you were too intimidated by your friend to flick his nose and see if he was awake or not. Because Zoro was sober, albeit with a headache, he had agreed to guide everyone to bed tonight, which apparently gave Sanji the green light to drink every ounce of alcohol in his immediate reach.

You and the group had sailed into the port of a small village that boasted its agricultural feats, the entire village quaint but covered in flora. Luffy, of course, had ordered pound upon pound of food, some of which included the locally grown and harvested fruits and vegetables. This was a particular delight for Sanji, of course, and locally made alcohol had been ordered to pair with it. You were pleasantly drunk, peeking over the rim of your glass to watch Sanji, who was sat next to you, downing his own drink. You couldn't help but giggle at the way he drank the wine in his glass with the fervor of a man lost in the desert, such a contrast from the way he usually sipped and savored his wine.

"We are going to be taking some bottles back to the ship with us, you know," you teasingly point out, hiccupping as you set your own glass down.

"True, but I want to taste it now." Sanji replied, reaching over to the bottle and refilling his glass.

You rolled your eyes, relenting when he raised his glass and clinked it with Usopp's, who was equally as sloshed as Sanji. Your eyes scanned over the crowd at the bar, trying to make your gaze as fleeting as possible to not rise any suspicion. One of your favorite reasons for being a part of the Strawhat crew was the places you went, the way every place was exponentially more foreign to you than the next. Still, you had been teased by Sanji for having a bad staring habit before, and despite his drunken state, he clocked you for it again this time.

You had tuned out whatever loud conversation the rest of the crew was having, that was until you felt something heavy against the back of your neck. You snapped back to attention, looking to your side and realizing that Sanji's face was nose inches from your own, and the heavy thing against your neck was his arm around your shoulder. Your heart somehow felt like it had simultaneously stopped and was beating a million miles an hour.

His breath smelled of alcohol and mint, a crooked smile on his face. "Are you stalking people again?" He said in tone that made your stomach do somersaults.

You hated the way he made you feel. He made you feel stupid, absolutely weak in the knees and breathless whenever he zeroed in on you. Still, you tried your hardest to never show your nervousness, even if your head was starting to swim from the alcohol you had been nursing. "No, because stalking implies that I am following people. I'm just looking."

"Ah..." Sanji looked over the crowd, his eyes slightly hooded in his drunken state. You're studying him, and you notice that his cheeks and nose are starting to redden. You can't hide the small giggle that escapes you, Sanji turning back to you at the sound. "Did you see someone you like?"

You giggle and shake your head. "No, it's your face. It's getting red." Sanji rubbed his cheek self-consciously, his blush deepening as he took another drink. Your attention fell to the assortment of fruit on the table, and you picked up a cherry, holding it near his face. Your laughed harder, "Look, it's exactly the same!"

Usopp, who was seated on the other side of Sanji, heard your exclamation and was now focused on your conversation. He looked at the cherry that you were dangling near Sanji's face by the stem, then at Sanji's face, then cracked out a grin. "Oh my gosh, Sanji, your face!"

Sanji groaned, the arm that had been draped over your shoulders leaving its spot so he could use both hands to rub, and hide, his face. You poked his side as Usopp tried to pry Sanji's hands away, Nami and Luffy now paying attention to the scene the three of you were causing.

Nami giggled, reaching over you to attempt (and fail) to poke Sanji’s cheek. “I have never seen someone’s face get like that after drinking, good job, Sanji!”

You gently tapped Sanji’s cheek with the cherry, teasingly adding, “It is truly impressive.”

Sanji was staring at you, his mouth now in a thin line. The look on his eyes was unlike anything you had ever seen before, his eyes stormy with a hint of something your swimming mind couldn't identify. It made your stomach flip again. His hand shot up, grabbing your wrist and stopping you from tapping the cherry against his face again. You froze when he grabbed you, your giggle getting caught in your throat. You quirked an eyebrow as the entire world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you.

Sanji held his intense gaze on you as he slowly turned your wrist, craning it so the fruit pressed against his lips, his mouth flashing open and his tongue darting out to capture the fruit and bring it into his mouth, disconnecting expertly from the stem. Now you were the one turning red.

The whole thing had seemingly gone unnoticed by the rest of the wasted crew, because Sanji quickly turned away from you and tuned into the conversation Usopp and Luffy were having. Your hand was still pinching the stem of the cherry, completely dumbfounded.

Nami, who was on your other side, was no latched onto your back like the barnacles on the side of the ship. The affection coming from her, as close as you were with Nami, startled you, and you jumped a little as her arms nestled around you like an anaconda. Her chin settled against the dip in your shoulder, her warm, drunken breath making your nose wrinkle. "I'm so tired..." Nami mumbled in your ear. "Can you help me back on to the boat?"

Zoro, who had been silently zoned out the entire time, took Nami by her shoulder and pried her away from your back. "C'mon, I'll do it."

He began to gently lead her out of the booth, lowly telling the rest of the crew that when he came back, he would be collecting them and throwing them in their respective beds. Luffy and Usopp groaned as Sanji led them out of the other end of the booth, and you got out on your side, following behind the three of them as all of you headed back to the boat. Your mind and heart were still racing, and it wasn't helping that Sanji was walking in front of you, even the sight of the back of his body enough to set your body aflame.

The thing about Sanji was that he was the person you were closest to in the crew. Nami was your sister and Luffy, Usopp, and Zoro had their fair share of brotherly moments with you, but with Sanji it was a completely different story. He was a gentleman, beyond respectful, but there were the moments that you caught him staring. There was the way his breath hitched when you ran to hug him. There were the different glints he would get in his eye, when you ate food, he had cooked, when you smiled at him, and a lot of other times when looked at you like he was desperately wanting something. All of it you noticed, but kept to yourself, because you didn't know how to properly express how you felt.

Still, he had made a pretty bold move.

You quietly passed Zoro on the ship, telling him goodnight and slipping into your room. You changed out of your daytime clothes, feeling a bit grimy. You paused when you went to put on your pajamas, though, deciding to put on your robe instead. It was late, and you were drunk, but that drunkenness was telling you that now was the time to clean yourself. You knew a shower would take far too long, but the least you could do was take a rag and some water and half-clean yourself.

You snuck yourself to the galley, hugging yourself as a chill swept through the entire boat. You retrieved a bowl and started to set a pot of water to heat up over the smaller fire that Sanji always kept ready to be lit in case Luffy wanted a late-night snack. You knew it wouldn't take long, because you only needed warm water, not boiling, and while you waited you looked through Sanji's large collection of scented and flavored oils. Surely, he wouldn't notice two or three drops missing. You grinned as you spotted a cherry extract he used sometimes for baking, pouring a few drops into the bowl. The water was the perfect temperature, so you extinguished your small flame and poured the water into the bowl. The extract swirled pink in the water, mixing as you carefully returned back to your room. You set it down on your windowsill, retrieving a small cloth and dipping it into the water. You untied your robe, taking the cloth and pressing it to your skin. You felt every single hair raise on your body, the chilly night air allowing causing all of your goosebumps to become active. You cleaned yourself quickly, not wanting to be naked and cold much longer. Setting the cloth back and the bowl and putting it to the side, you finally got into your sleepwear and settled into bed. As you drifted off, you couldn't help but replay that moment in your brain, a smile on your face and a warmth between your legs as you fell asleep.

[fanaticsnail]

You Deserve Better

Masterlist Here, Pollen Masterlist here

Word Count: 5,835

Synopsis: Zoro has inhaled pollen while lost and away from his crew. His crew return from a day of celebration and tease him for is senseless navigational skills. But you notice something's wrong with him. He's hot. So, so hot. And he needs your help to combat his illness. You want to help him so badly, why won't he let you get Chopper? And why was he holding you like that?

Warnings: Pollen!Zoro x afab!reader, smut, mdni, p in v, mutual pining, apprehension, longing, giving in, pollen, NSFW.

Tag List: @sordidmusings @feral-artistry @writingmysanity @gingernut1314

Notes: This was the brain child between me and sordid from waaay back when. Needed to be finished, and here it is!

Zoro had gotten lost, his own confident footing carrying him in a rhythmic trudge towards where he assumed the meeting place for the crew was occurring. It was only when he apprehensively knocked on a door of a strange hut, asking the resident for directions, that he was made painfully aware of truly how far away he was from the coordinates. He missed lunch, he missed the meeting and introductions of the town; his absence truly being noticed due to his status as first-mate to the Straw-Hat Pirate crew. 

Turning back around, he began the long trek to the docks. His shoulders crushed with unfamiliar twigs, branches, bushels and foreign leaves he was yet to learn the proper names for. Losing his footing, his right foot fell within a small catchment; a deep puddle of water causing him to stumble in his footing, and fall face-first into a bushel of white flowers. He coughed, the pollen entering his lungs through his nostrils and parted lips. 

“What the fuck,” he growled, swiping at his face and blowing puffs of air from his nose and gasping for breath. The floral scent stung at his eyes, a rasp catching in his throat and forcing his Adams apple to bob painfully as he gulped his collected saliva in to rid the tang from his tongue. 

Sneezing, coughing and sputtering all the way back to the ship, he felt strange. His skin felt hot, his clothes were scratching his skin and overwhelming him beneath the fibers of mixed cotton and twine. He was too hot, he was too sweaty and he was– –what was this feeling? No stranger to rage, anger and frustration; he simply pegged it to be one of the three as he continued to stumble-trip his way back to the ship; his dampened boot leaving a trail of mud behind him.

After his boots finding residency back in familiar territory, he slowly made his way below deck to the kitchen. If he could just avoid everybody, take a drink of water and a shower, he was sure that would quench this rising feeling in his chest. Everything was burning; his face, his esophagus, his chest, his thighs, his calves, his cock —- why was everything so hot?

Of course the cook was in the kitchen, where else would the waiter be at a time like this. Sanji’s lips were moving, his tone lengthy, low and likely taunting him. Zoro paid him no heed, focussing on slowly breathing as his body propelled itself forward to follow through the motions. Just get to the cupboard, get a cup, take the cup to the sink, fill the cup with cool water, drink the cool water, place the cup in the sink, go to his bunk for the night, strip himself naked, furiously pull his cock until his cum painted the inside of one of his old socks, and finally rest. That is what would fix his ailment, he’s certain of it. 

Instead, his small calculated routine was halted before he placed the cup back into the sink; his thirst quenched.  Following his meticulously thought out actions were stopped by the burning initiated by Sanji’s hand placement on his shoulder, gripping him to gain his attention.

“-there were so many beers and ales, and you didn’t get to sample any of them,” Sanji dryly laughed his taunt back into Zoro’s shoulder. Sanji was expecting Zoro to taunt him back, their comradery being one built on mutual taunts and jabs. Instead, Zoro clenched his jaw harder, his hand almost shattering the cup he was placing in the sink beneath his firm grip. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Sanji asked him firmly, pushing the swordsman’s shoulder to turn him to face his grey-blue hues. Zoro kept his eyes shut, his jaw almost breaking with how tightly his teeth were wrenched together. Feeling another rise of the scratchy tickle within his throat, he had no time to bring his palm up to stifle the cough - a small amount of the foreign pollen extending from Zoro’s lips into Sanji’s breathable oxygen. 

“Fuck, man, cover your mouth next ti-,” Sanji’s pupils immediately dilating, his waterline swelling with glossy water, “-why doI-I-...” Sanji felt the effects immediately. Eyes widening with panic, a warm blush rising to Sanji’s cheeks, he fled his grip against the swordsman’s shoulder and hastily sprinted out of the kitchen to barricade himself in his crew quarters. 

Zoro grinds his teeth, clenches the bench to steady himself against it - nearly breaking with how hard he's clutching it in his white-knuckled grip. Breathing exclusively through his nose, hissing as the elevation of his lungs propels further torture and the flushed heat downwards to sit in his abdomen. Every part of himself was now tense, hard and fighting this rise of emotion. 

Alerting Nami you were going to the kitchen to see if everything was okay with the swordsman, his absence missed by the Straw-Hat crew as you all ate foreign foods, drank foreign drinks and learnt the customs of this unfamiliar land. You saw Sanji rush past you, his irises wild, on your way to the area Zoro sat. You became even more unsettled seeing Zoro red-faced and seemingly in excruciating pain as he gripped the sink and benchtop to steady himself against it. 

You closed the door of the kitchen behind you, slowly approaching the green-haired first-mate and presenting your palms out to indicate you were not a threat. 

“Zoro?” you asked him, keeping your voice quiet but firm, “Are you okay? Is something the matter?”

“I’m fine,” he spat in a winced growl, his eyes clamped shut, “Just get out and leave me alone.” 

You furrowed your brows at his harsh tone, unsure of what exactly is coming over him. Both the tone and words catch you by surprise. You almost always kept each other company; finding one another at the end of a grueling battle, sitting side by side at meal times, and often repairing damage to each other’s bodies that were ill-achieved by yourselves. Beyond that, he’s never sent you away. While you’ve seen him snap at others, you’ve yet to be on the receiving end - especially for simply asking him how he is.

Instead of listening to his verbal words of warning, you approached him. While his eyes were shut, you knew he didn't need them open to keep track of your approach. You knew this was a fact for sure when you see his lips curl into a grimace as you get closer, prompting you to wonder if you really should just leave. 

Truthfully, the reason for the grimace was coming from the fact he can hear every shuffle of your clothing dragging itself against your body. Your soft breathing rang melodically in his ears, the scent of your warm, spiced perfume dancing with the comforting smell of your skin held his every follicle rising on edge. He was having to pull his mind to reign it in, tethering it on a tight leash to keep it from gnawing on the idea of what it’d smell like if he pressed his nose into your hair or neck or chest. How you’d taste as he gnawed on the flesh of your stomach, how burying his face between your thighs and dancing his tongue against your tender flesh would feel-.

“-You’re making me worry, Zoro,” your soft voice called to him, the small pat of your footsteps indicating to the broody swordsman that your approach was now uncomfortably close. The back of your hand lands on his forehead to check his temperature and he pulls back like you’ve burned him. 

“What’s wrong-,” he’s struggling to form the words through the images of your thighs spreading beneath his firm grip. “What’s wrong,” his deep inhale through his nose did little to settle his elevated heartbeat, “Is that you’re touching me when I told you to go away.” 

He finally opened his eyes and you were struck with the intensity of them. His snarling mouth, furrowed brow, and scrunching eyelids certainly looked furious, but his eyes were glossy and shaky and darkened by blown pupils.

“Zoro, did you take something? Should I get Chopper?” Sighing out a small breath through your lips, looking between the hazelnut hues of Zoro’s eyes and forming your own deductions. He wanted to close his eyes again because you looked so, so pretty. Too pretty not to touch. 

Your eyes widened in confusion as he began to sway forward towards you. He was moving in a way you’ve only seen a handful of times, those times when he’d manage to find enough alcohol to actually become inebriated under the influence of its fermentation. 

“Zoro, I’m-,” he lunged in a deep stoop, falling forward to let his face fall into your stomach below your breasts. Allowing a deep inhale, he exhaled a low, shuddered groan into your skin. His body shivered and you feared this may be the worst fever you’ve ever seen of him. No injury, inebriation nor affliction had ever found purchase enough against the first-mate to cause you to worry - until now. 

“I’m gonna get you some help, okay?” You informed him, stepping back to get Chopper, only halting your exit as two hands stopped you. One fisted tight enough into your shirt for the seams to pop in protest, while the other sank into your hip. 

“Don’t,” he panted. This whole interaction has left you at a loss but you were truly astonished when Zoro nuzzled his face into you and massaged his hand into your hip. “You’re not going anywhere,” he grumbled, letting his voice vibrate against you through your clothes.

“Yes I am. You’re not okay, and I have to take care of you,” you hardened your resolve, reaching down and banding your hands around his wrists. 

If it were any other time, his heart would be aching at the worry in your tone. He adored how you cared for him, feeling all of your concern for his well being. However, at this current moment; he can only think of how your voice is so pretty and your body is so warm. And your scent, the intoxicating aroma your glistening skin was whispering and beckoning him to fall trap to your body. How could anyone smell so, so sweet?

You managed to actually get a step back, breaking the brace against his body and placing his hands away from you. Zoro is strong in his grip, but your concern had you force more strength than you thought you could muster. You heard a small rumbled sound, high in pitch and lengthy in elevation. 

Zoro whined. 

He had the gall to whine at you, making your hair stand on end to be thrown so far from your norm. With you at a distance, Zoro’s strength really did leave him. Your absence drained him, his body deprived of a necessity while writhing. He was a man starving with not a single scrap of sustenance, parched without a single drop of liquid to quench him.

His resolve hardened, his unanswered questions being answered with that single thought. You were a necessity. You would fix whatever this was; he just had to sink himself into by claw, tooth and nail you until no person could possibly tear him off of you.

You watched the towering form of the first-mate sink hopelessly onto his knees, his arms first reaching and clutching for you as soon as you shied away from his embrace, before stuttering them away in retreat. He was trembling, his hands resting on his large thighs with his head hanging low to shield his eyes from your gaze. 

"Zoro," you softly called to him, bringing yourself low and resting your weight on your shins. Inching your way forward, you witnessed him suck in a breath and hold it in his chest with his eyes scrunched tightly shut.

"Zoro," you said, reaching your hands down and claiming his wrists in your circular grip, "if you don't want me to get Chopper," you released one of his wrists to collect his chin, "you have to tell me how to help you. What do you want? What can I do?"

Zoro fought harder against himself, every fiber of his being forcing him to continue to hold his breath to halt his urgency to claim you within his arms and never let you go. All of his thoughts were consumed with you: your scent, your softness, your voice, the way you tainted the air with your sweet flavor he desired to taste. He slowly, apprehensively, hissed out a breath, his shoulders quivering and shaking under the influence of the pale pollen propelling his unholy desires and sinful thoughts forward. 

"I w-want," he began, halting his words and wincing under your fingertips. Although your touch burned him, he could not bring himself to shy away from your hand. The way you felt, the way you so desperately craved for him to speak his desires and birth them within the air. He stifled once more, every second passing led to more of his control over himself lessening. 

"Zoro, let me help you. Whatever you need, know that I'm-," your words were claimed from you, Zoro's towering form caging your body beneath his strong arms. He hovered above you, eyes black with lust and lips parted with longing. He was an animal, the temperature falling off of him elevating your own beneath it. 

Wasting not one more second, he collapsed on-top of you, bringing his lips down and pressing rough and desperate kisses along your neck and jaw. All passion: tongue, teeth, lips and caresses - Zoro was consuming you as if he was a man starved and desperate for sustenance only you were able to give him.

The whining, the whimpering, the groaning as his hips begin to roll against your thigh we're spurring your confusion to swirl within the recesses of your mind. While unable to fully process the actions, Zoro began pleading with you; his hot breath against the shell of your ear sending a shiver up your spine. 

"I can't-... I-I can't stop," he growled, continuing to rut himself against you. The rough smack of his clothed hips did nothing to hide his impressive length and girth from you. His grinding down into you, the way your body writhed beneath him, propelled him enough to staple you to the ground beneath his hips. 

A strong arm had snuck its way beneath you, a splayed hand could keeping your chests pressed flush while his other guided your thigh over his hip. You eagerly wrapped both legs around him to pull him impossibly closer, feeling his taut muscles move and shift under your hold. 

He forced both of his hands to your hips, intending to hold them still and pull away, but you rolled them in his grip. His eyes followed suit, rolling back and leaving him to blindly bury his face deeper into your shoulder. “Please let me, I’m s-so so sorry, I cant-...hnng-... I c-can't stop. I n-need you-uu.”

"It's okay, it's okay Zoro," you gasped, your cheeks pressing firmly against his as you heard him stagger his breath and hold onto every word. You raked your fingers through his moss-coloured locks, reassuring him and soothing him by whispering your silencing shushes. Although some dark part of you wanted to continue listening to him beg for you, you instead offered only support and continual reassurance.

You turned your cheek inwards, breaking contact flush against his cheek to press a small brush of your own lips against his smooth skin. This apprehensive and timid gesture prompted him to groan beneath your lips as his skin ignited further. 

“More,” he mumbled fervently after the kiss, the affection doing much more to ease his stress than your words were, “Give me more.” The gentle peck was too achingly sweet to only placate him, instantly holding him hostage to his need to feel more of you. 

The squeeze of your legs on his waist, and the heat he could feel pressed against his cock even through your clothes, strung him tighter and pulled him further from sanity. The hand in his hair and the brush of your lips, made the haze on his mind feel welcome; The boiling in his veins feel more natural. 

You gave him more fluttered kisses on his cheek, then floated your lips up his temple before tilting your head back to cradle him beneath your chin. You raked your arms over his shoulders, your fingertips leaving trails of flamed temptation beneath each pad and digit. Each motion was done to the tune of “more”, “so good”, and “please”. 

You were heavily tempted to let him keep you trapped against the floor and caged beneath his weight, being used for his needy grinding; but a moment of clarity hit you. You were in the galley, and your crew members could swing the door wide and see you both like this; writhing and grinding pelvises together in a cruel dance of lewd gyrations. 

While you had your own qualms with this, you were sure Zoro would rather die than have him looking in his current state getting back to the ship’s chef. Casting all inhibitions aside at one particularly harsh grind against your clit from his painfully hard cock, you verbalized your concerns for him.

"Zoro, you're behaving like an animal- a beast: wild and rampant with lust,” your whisper carried itself up to his awaiting ears. You didn’t know what came over you, but you retreated away from holding him and pushed him up to view his expression.  

“You’re frightening me," you whispered into his face, claiming his cheeks beneath your palms. Both of you were whimpering, panting; eyes wide and lips parted. You leant up to his face, your lips almost meeting for the first time since he caged you beneath him. Holding back the meeting of your lips, you spurred him on with a single three-worded command.

"Do it again."

Zoro growled as he broke away his hand clutching your thigh, fumbling at his hips to unsheathe one of his three blades attached to his belt. As soon as he grasped the hilt of the blade, he tore his torso away from its place against your chest and threw the object to imbed itself within the doorframe: barring the entrance to the kitchen under its sharpened steel. 

Looking up at his body, his entire being was overwhelmed with sweat, pooling from his green hair to trickle down his temples to his neck and jaw. The silvery trail of desperation and lust dripped down his chest beneath his shirt and drenching him further beneath the pull of the powerful pollen. 

He was not himself, fighting every urge to hold control over his body. He wanted this - he wanted you. Just not like this. He wanted to do things right by you; courting you properly, enjoying his time learning everything there was to know about you. He adored spending his time silently by your side - often shielding you from harm's way and protecting you within the thralls of battle, not that you truly ever needed it. 

But the way his cock was straining behind the shield of his pants had his mind cloudy, eyes stinging while attempting to hold the final remnants of control over himself. 

“Y-You don’t know what you’ve asked for, Princess,” Zoro growled, his eyes slowly tilting down from contact against the door to slowly fall to meet your widened gaze beneath him. Your breath hitched as you were met with something completely feral overcoming him. His expression depicted his title flawlessly. You were now completely helpless, pinned beneath the towering intense muscle known as Roronoa Zoro: the former demon bounty hunter, pirate, and king of hell. 

His eyes held the vibrant lustful intensity of raging flames burning flesh, his predatory grin snapping his face with his grimace. His brow was furrowed in a deep frown, the final band of his control straining against the stretch; thin, pale and ready to snap. 

As Zoro gazed into your eyes, holding all that he was from tearing off your garments and sheathing his cock deep within your walls and chasing his release of tension, he continued to clasp onto his final band of control to ensure you were truly okay with your body being used in such a way. 

Sensing his apprehension, you swiftfully and gracefully bucked your hips up to meet his, rolling him off of your body and pinning him beneath you. Your hands grasped his wrists and placed them above his head. His teeth grit against themselves, grinding them down painfully to continue holding himself back from ravishing you. He was a swordsman. He was disciplined under the way of the blade. 

“Zoro,” you began, sighing down with your eyes upturned in concern, “I know you are not well, and this may be the only solution to your problem.” You reassured him, claiming both of his wrists between your left hand, you placed your right hand over his heart and pressed gently on his chest. 

“Let me help you like this, okay?” You offered him a half-smile, “We can work out what it means once you’re through the worst of it. I just want my swordsman back,” you placed your lips against his forehead, feeling the scorch of his flesh burn your lips as he whimpered into your touch. “My knight, my protector,” you whispered against him, pulling back from his face and uttering affectionately, “Just let go. I can take it.” 

If you’d held any fondness for your pants and shirt, or your undergarments, there was no ribbon left salvageable as Zoro all but clawed them from your body. His own shirt and pants were not fairing in any better condition lying beside them. The throbbing of his veiny cock curving painfully hard upwards towards his stomach had you wincing in empathy at how hard he was holding back. 

The slit was slickened, pearled beads of precum glistening against the shine of his reddened mushroom tip. You could almost see the harsh thundered beat of his heart depicted in the rush of blood swelling his shaft, the veins protruding and pulsating in the air. You couldn’t tear your eyes away, nor halt the fluttered hitch in your breath at the girth of it.

“I-I wanted this to be different,” he breathily confessed, his body moving against his will to cage you beneath him once more. His cock twitched at the opening of your walls, a shuddered groan igniting tingles over his back as his tip prodded you, “I wanted to warm you up, stretch you wide with my hands some so you could take me easier. Y-You deserve better.”

A small shocked scream fell from your parted lips as his body lunged forwards, his hips snapping to fully sheath himself within your walls in one fell strike. You were thankful you allowed yourself to give into the lewd grinds and circled thrusts from earlier to allow some slickness to coat your walls with your arousal. He filled you completely, your body contracting and adjusting to him with each passing flutter.

He bit his lip painfully hard, his eyes scrunched shut as he felt each quiver of your walls soothing over his burning flesh. This was the remedy his body was searching for. He needed you. All of you. Every fibre of you. The taste of you, the smell of your flesh, your sweet cries falling from your parted lips as you adjusted around him. He wanted so badly for this to be as good for you as it was for him, holding his concentration to allow you a moment to catch your breath. 

“I can still take you like this, Zoro,” you taunted him with a gentle hum of encouragement. He snapped his eyes to yours, his pupils completely dilated and the corners of his eyes still stinging with concentration to not rail you completely into the harsh floor. You noticed his panicked expression, knowing exactly what his mind was plagued with. 

The words left unspoken holding heavy in the air, his eyes begging you to understand his meaning instead of attempting to articulate his words. The throb of his cock within your warmth propelled your heartfelt encouragement onto him.

“D-Don’t you worry about me, okay?” you reaffirmed him, your eyes depicting nothing other than adoration and affection for the first mate, “Use me,” you drew your palm up to his cheek, holding your gaze intimately with his, “Just let go.” 

At that final command, he drew his hands over your thighs and hooked them over his hips once more; starting a heavy laden rhythm with the smack of his hips. He withdrew himself almost to his slit before pistoning his cock within your walls fast and harsh. You clapped your hand over your lips to stifle your cries of pleasure as his velvety cock continued its bullying of your cervix. 

Every fiber of your being was alight and adjusting to quench the fire of Zoro’s insatiable lust, adoring the chase of his release being pushed brutally into your quivering walls. His cries for you, reciting your name like a prayer as he quested for his salvation buried within your body. 

He was an animal, a wild beast possessed his body and propelled him onwards to seek out his pleasure within you. His eyes never left yours; the man you knew before the beast lurking beneath his glazed gaze. Zoro was expressing gratitude and almost sorrow behind his lustful alterego. 

“I-I’m so-....nmff-... I’m so sorry,” he whimpered, his pace accelerating harshly. The grip of his hands on your thighs bruised their way up to find purchase on your hips, You squeezed your eyes tightly shut, shaking your head and hooking your arms over his shoulders to draw his head into your neck.

“It’s-... hhah-... okay, Zoro. It’s o-okay, truly,” you reassured him, your voice hitching on each syllable as the snap of his hips accelerated in their bruising thrusts, “I’m okay, y-you’re okay.” Your reassurances held his voice sighing out his relief while he continued to chase his high within you. 

His words became jumbled, the mixture of his precum and your arousal squelching sinfully with each harsh slab and thrust of his cock sheathing itself within your walls. If anyone were to walk past the kitchen, they would know exactly what was going on against the floor. Breathy chants of your name fell from Zoro’s lips as the coil within you began to tighten and spark the wick of your approaching orgasm. 

Unknown to you at present, as soon as Zoro initially sheathed himself within you; he was holding himself back more to ensure this was an experience as enjoyable for you as it was for him. He was biting his lip so painfully to ensure he didn’t cum as soon as his pelvis met with your own. He wanted to watch you cum, he didn’t want to be a selfish lover and use your body to chase his own high. No matter how torturous it was to hold himself back, he was accustomed to pain and this was no different. 

But you noticed. The way his brow was intensely furrowed as his forehead hid itself against the skin of your shoulder. The quiver of his own shoulders and his whimpered cries against you gave you cause to draw such a heinous conclusion. Zoro was in pain, and he was still not seeking the treatment your body was giving him. He was still putting you first.

You sighed as you felt his cock continue to quiver within you with each harsh snap, the pleasure he was bringing to you was overwhelming with the bruising pace he still held. Hardening your resolve, you reached your hands down and dug your nails into his ass cheeks and propelled him to grind himself against you further and deeper. You refused to have this pain elongate further for him, and felt the urge to remind him as such.

“Zoro, cum,” you ordered him, his breath hitching at your command, “I know what you’re doing, idiot. Cum in me. I want you to shoot your cum deep in me. I want to feel you ride out your orgasm with each pulse and throb of your cock. I want your cum so bad, Zoro. Cum in me-.”

“-Fuck! F-Fuck,” He barked, biting down on your shoulder harshly as his cock began to release his built up load immediately into your plush walls. Ribbons of his white translucent paint splashed against your walls, the muffled screams of Zoro’s voice crying praises while latched against your skin. He continued the harsh stuttered pace as he rode out his release. 

He was so built up with his relentless pleasure that the pressure of his cum brushed against the underside of your clit, his pubic hair grinding on the topside at the same time and prompting you to ride the waves of your own orgasm alongside his. Lights danced behind your eyes as the spark drew into a vibrant flame. 

Your fingernails continued to dig in the muscle of his ass as you both cried in bliss, your mouth agape while his teeth continued to clamp over your shoulder. His tongue lapped behind his teeth as his groans and whimpers began to die down as his hips came to a staggered halt. His cock remained fully sheathed within you, the final twitches and trembles relinquishing his body of the final spill of his load emptied within you. 

Panting of dual breaths within the four walls of the kitchen, the fuzziness of Zoro’s mind became once again his own, his eyes losing their glaze and his cock twitched its last within you. You whimpered as you came down from your high, the pain of Zoro’s teeth remaining latched on your neck had the realization dawn on both of you at once. 

“I-I…” he stuttered once he released your shoulder from his teeth, “I-I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He stuttered, pulling out of you with his cum spilling from your opening and pooling on the floor beneath you. His eyes were wide, his lips swollen and bruised. Your own eyes widened at his panic, immediately rising to your elbows and looking up at him.

“You’re sorry we-,” you began, only to halt as he spoke over you.

“-No,” he barked his confession over you, stooping his body over yours once more, “I’m sorry it happened like that.” He wanted so desperately to relay all of his affection onto you, all of his adoration, all of his love - but was now lost for words as your eyes met his. 

You darted your eyes between focussing on each of his hazelnut orbs, shifting your focus as you witnessed his afterglow. His body was lighter, his mind no longer plagued by lust. He was once again-.

“-Roronoa Zoro,” you uttered, collecting his hand beneath your palm and allowing a warm smile to spread over your lips, “I don’t regret helping you like this.” You drag your hand over his cheek, pinching his chin between your thumb and index finger and hold his focus with the intensity of your eyes. “I’m glad you’re back to yourself again. If this is where we leave our tryst-.”

“-Absolutely not,” Zoro growled. The rumbled tone of his voice had your breath hitching and mind halting its springing to conclusions, “I want you more than you could ever know.” He leant forward, his eyes shutting as he met your forehead against his own; your cheek still claiming his cheek beneath your palm. His temperature was more bearable, the warmth you were more accustomed to bringing you comfort. 

You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch and allowing him to shepherd your body to the ground once more. He combed his fingers down the crown of your head, his fingertips gently raking their pads over your jaw as he finally claimed your lips beneath his in a slow and intimate kiss.

He parted his lips, dragging his tongue to meet against your own with a small groan of bliss. You felt him smile against your lips as you drew your arms around his neck once more. Toying with the small hairs at the back of his neck, you angled your jaw upwards to claim more of him against yourself. 

The rattle of a door handle broke you away from this moment of private intimacy, the wobble of the door shuddering beneath a strong grip immediately caused you panic. You were naked. Naked on the floor in the kitchen. Your clothes lay beside you in ribbons, nothing aside from a dish towel could be used to shield you from prying eyes. 

“Oi, Zoro! What’re you guys doing in there?” The voice of your captain called to you, “You better not be getting all the meat from the fridge! I took that from the celebration, it was your own fault you didn’t get there in time to try any-.”

“-We’re not eating your meat, Luffy!” Zoro roared, breaking his lips away from yours to answer him, “Bring us my yukata and some of my pants, would you?”

“Your Yukata and pants? What happened?” Luffy asked, puzzled momentarily before slyly asking into the door, “And what do I get outta it?” Zoro growled a woeful sigh, lips curling up to a snarl. Your warm smile and giggle broke him away from his anger, his eyes softening as they met yours once more. 

“Just bring them, will you? Then we’ll let you get your meat, Captain,” Zoro chuckled while leaning down to press his lips against yours once more. Although the air was lighter, your body began to succumb to the feeling of warmth falling from Zoro in waves. He hoisted you from the floor to sit atop his lap as his back sat flush against the kitchen counter. Seeking out the small bite he’d left on your shoulder, he began pressing fluttered kisses in apologies against your flesh. 

“I’m sorry,” he confessed once more between kisses, “I want to do this properly - be with you properly. You deserve better.” You sighed at his words, exposing your neck more to him in a gesture for him to continue pressing kisses into more of your available skin.

“I can take it,” you gasped, feeling his teeth rake slowly against your flesh as he moulded the skin of your back beneath his splayed fingertips. He gasped into your skin, still dizzy from coming down from the risen high between you both but mind truly clear of all prior affliction.  

“I know you can,” Zoro grinned into your skin, pulling away to gaze into your eyes. All affection was mirrored between you; eyes half lidded and smiles dopey and tired, “But you still deserve better. Let me treat you better.”

[jintaka-hane]

Run, baby (don't) run

(Cabaji x gn!reader) NSFW

Masterlist

Summary: Your former crew lost in the Davy Back Fight and you are the tribute to pay. As you step aboard Captain Buggy's ship, your mind begins to conjure ideas for escape, but there's someone who will make your stay not so unpleasant. You might consider yourself clever, presuming to completely know him because you have explored every inch of his body, yet you remain unaware of the deeper emotions he conceals within. Notes: I tried to stick to my initial plan (short smut) and I couldn't... Sorry, I am a hopeless romantic! 💕 Simply wanted to delve into a relationship where intimacy precedes love, rather than the other way around. Warnings: +18, NSFW, MDNI, smut (but there is plot I swear), Sub!Cabaji x Dom!reader (Cabaji is shy, reader is bold), Sub!reader x Dom!Cabaji, oral, teasing, wall sex, wall pinning, idiots in love, some angst with happy ending. Words: 6800 Songs that inspired me: Run, baby run - Garbage

Thank you, my beautiful @fanaticsnail for your help with some parts 🙏🏻 💜 🐌

.

Thud… thud… thud… thud. 

The captain walked with lengthy, intentional strides atop the wooden deck, his footfalls resonating across the damp planks of the ship as he solemnly advanced along the line of awaiting pirates. 

Each time he took an aggressive step, he would pause to scrutinize the pirate directly in front of him, a contemptuous critique reserved for each of them.

"Too serious".

Thud… thud

"Too tall".

Thud… thud

"Too dull".

Thud, thud, thud… 

...thud

His strides came to a halt mere inches from where you stood, and you averted your gaze, fixating instead on the weathered floorboards. Time appeared to freeze as you sought to go unnoticed, your gaze focused on his worn pointed brown boots.

“YOU,” he said.

You dared to raise your eyes, hoping he might be addressing the next in line, only to find his azure eyes, heavily lined with kohl and blue eyeshadow, fixed squarely upon you.

"Though you'll be needing some makeup…”, he added with a mischievous grin, gazing you up and down, “... and a more colorful attire”.

Satisfied with himself, he spun on his heel and headed back towards his circus-like ship, making a gesture for you to follow him.

You cast one last glance at your companions, giving yourself a few seconds to compose.

“Come on, buttercup!” He barked out at you without turning around, "Where's the enthusiasm?!”

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

Turning down a challenge was a display of cowardice and shame in the pirate world. And this shame was even greater if the challenge in question was the Davy Back Fight, which stipulated that if two captains accepted, their crews would endure three trials, the losers facing the penalty of crew members theft and the destruction of their pirate flag.

Captain Buggy and his followers had encountered your ship, and in an act of whimsy and boredom, had challenged your former captain, who felt compelled to accept in defense of his honor. Against all odds, your old crew ended up losing to the picturesque and colorful crew led by the sea's most renowned clown, resulting in you being chosen by their captain as a reward for their victory.

You had to quickly adapt to life in the Big Top, vastly different from the customs you had known so far. Made up and dressed in tight circus attire that revealed your midriff, you tried as best you could to fit in with the crew and carry out your tasks amidst the chaos that reigned in that disorganized and eccentric group.

You didn't yet know much about your crewmates, though you could glean some idea of each one's personality: the captain, ambitious, whiny, and extravagant; the first mate, fiercely protective of his captain and always accompanied by an immense circus lion; the unicyclist swordsman, solemn and mysterious, constantly honing new juggling tricks that he later deployed as precise attacks.

It was the latter who particularly had caught your eye, mainly due to the vibrant colors of his attire and the uniqueness of his hair, straight and streaked, pulled to one side. The fact that he always was bare-chested, showcasing his sturdy pectorals, also added to his allure. But you never entertained the thought of getting close to him; after all, you were eager to leave that ragtag crew of pirates behind and join a more formidable crew as soon as possible …

You had sworn allegiance to the captain, but that didn't bind you to servitude for eternity. Perhaps in a few months, slipping away from the ship wouldn't raise too many eyebrows. 

Life aboard wasn't entirely unpleasant. The parties were frequent, which helped time pass more swiftly, and you found amusement in watching the crew's constant juggling and tricks. Yet, you couldn't envision yourself aboard the Big Top for the long haul. Sometimes, unable to bear another note of the incessant circus music, you would retreat to your cabin, bury your head in the pillow, and scream.

One night, an excess of alcohol coursed through the veins of the crew — including you — celebrating that your captain, the great Buggy, had acquired a treasure that would significantly increase everyone's wealth and allow you to afford even more luxuries and extravagances.

You still didn't quite feel like you belonged with them, so you spent the evening watching and analyzing the group of pirates, noting the wildest, the toughest, the most loquacious, and the most reserved among them.

In your analysis, you caught Cabaji looking at you several times, his elongated lined eyes trailing over your abdomen, lingering a bit too long on your navel. The first two times, when your eyes met, he quickly averted his gaze, feigning interest in something else. The third time, he held your gaze and gave you a somewhat hesitant smile. The fourth time, he grabbed his unicycle and some juggling balls, tossed them in the air, and headed towards you, boasting about his sharp reflexes and impressive balance. 

As the acrobatic act concluded, he deftly caught the dancing balls in mid-air one by one with a single hand and, skidding lightly, brought his unicycle to a halt right in front of you, one foot on a pedal while placing the other on the ground to maintain balance. 

You weren't sure if it was the alcohol or simply a desperate need for distraction that night, but you summoned a boldness from somewhere unknown.

“Hey handsome, think you can ride anything besides bicycles?” 

He stood there, his eyes locked onto you, lost for words.

You thought he was an idiot.

And yet, within seconds, you were ravenously making out with that idiot, stumbling through the hallways of the ship as your bodies clumsily bumped with the walls and other unnoticed obstacles making your way to his cabin.

As you reached his room, you paused the kisses momentarily so he could open the door. With a gallant gesture, he ushered you in first, and you entered, casting a swift glance around the space.

It resembled a quaint juggling studio, albeit with the added quirk of a bed positioned at its heart. Disheveled shelves lined the walls, adorned with an array of juggling paraphernalia - diabolos, balls, ribbons, and hoops - alongside an assortment of edged weapons, including swords, knives, and daggers. Atop the floor lay a pair of weathered unicycles, seemingly forgotten.

You took a few steps forward, allowing your eyes to adjust to the dim light within, then turned toward him, watching as he closed the door behind him. With determination in your stride, you approached him, wrapping your arms around his neck before pressing your lips to his again, this time slow, lingering, and deep, while he embraced your bare waist. Tilting your chin slightly, you sought a better angle to kiss him, a low moan rumbling in his throat, barely restrained. 

Still emboldened by the courage perhaps instilled by alcohol, you brought a hand to the center of his chest and with your fingers, you traced the outline of his pecs.

“You’re so tough, aren't you?”

With a caress, your hand descended down his muscularly defined abdomen until reaching the edge of his pants, where a fine line of hair disappeared. Loosening the waistband slightly with your fingers, you created enough space for your hand to venture further, slipping beneath the elastic of his underwear. Cabaji froze in place, his muscles tensing around his stomach. With just one finger, you traced the length of his cock gently, from the base to the tip, while locking eyes with him. He was painfully hard.

“My, my… I think you need a bit of help with this, don’t you big guy?”

His cheeks tinted with a slight blush, but he didn't avert his gaze from yours. You noticed the goosebumps prickling his neck and shoulders, and every muscle in his body seemed to be rigid. Seeing he wasn't taking the lead, you decided to tease him further, this time more cruelly.

Removing your hand from his pants, you brought it to your mouth and provocatively licked the palm, coating it with saliva. Then, you slid it back into his pants and grasped his hard cock, your fingers wrapping around it completely. With a soft motion, you pumped it slowly, a moan escaping his lips as he closed his eyes.

“You’re so tense… you need to relax”.

You lifted your other hand and softly brushed his cheek, prompting him to open his eyes, his dark and dilated pupils locked onto yours, filled with a mixture of admiration and lust.

“Tell me… do you wanna fuck me, big guy?” You picked up the pace, pumping him faster.

He nodded slightly in silence, trying to maintain his composure and stay on his feet, while desire consumed him. You smiled, seeing him so vulnerable under your hands.

“Cat got your tongue, huh? Use your words, pretty boy” you teased him. 

“Yes…”

“Oh, he speaks,” you smirked. You found it amusing how shy he was. Accustomed as you were to dominant, proud, and selfish types, he was turning out to be a rare gem you were eager to enjoy. 

Devouring him eagerly, your lips swollen from the fierceness of your kisses, you gradually guided him to the bed, stepping forward while he took slight steps back, just to maintain balance. When the backs of his legs collided with the edge of the bed, you pushed him, his body falling onto the mattress and pulling you with him into a tight embrace, with no intention of separating from you.

You bent your legs, placing your knees on the mattress to straddle him, seeking his neck with your desirous lips, alternating between biting and licking. His hands began to roam your back, desperately searching for the edge of your shirt to help you discard it. You pressed your hips against his, feeling the massive bulge beneath his pants pulsating against you. His hands slid down to your ass, grasping both cheeks and pressing you down against him harder as he moaned, his hips rising in sync with yours.

At that moment, you sat up to look at him, his eyes ablaze with desire as his tongue darted between his lips to catch your saliva, his cheeks flushed, the vein in his neck pulsing frantically and the muscles in his arms tense as he gripped your ass firmly. You smiled to yourself, wanting to etch such a spectacular sight into your memory forever.

"Grab onto the headboard and don't take your hands off unless I tell you to," you ordered.

He obeyed instantly, holding his breath, eager to see what your next move would be.

"Good boy," you praised.

You lifted yourself slightly and crawled down his body until your head was level with his abdomen. Lowering your mouth to nibble on the soft skin around his navel, you made him whimper while your fingers slowly pulled down his pants.

“Relax…”

Directing your mouth to the lower part of his belly button, you continued kissing his tan and sea-salt coated skin, proceeding down to his pubic area as your fingers lowered his pants further and further.

You focused your attention on his groin, this time positioning your head right above his cock, the fabric of his pants the only barrier between you. With the tip of your nose, you briefly caressed the throbbing bulge hidden by his pants, then pressed your lips against it and began to kiss him through the fabric. You felt him gasp, his hips involuntarily rising to meet you, his cock twitching against your mouth. You smiled at his reaction and decided to tease him further, sticking out your tongue and tracing it softly against him while staring into his eyes.

“Please…”

Already begging?

If teasing him was the only way you had to get him to express himself, so be it... 

“Tell me big boy, what do you need?” 

“... my pants… too tight, I’m so hard I can't stand them anymore”.

You smiled to yourself and decided to indulge him. If he spoke, you would obey. With a gentle motion, your fingers lowered the edge of his pants, freeing his dick, which sprang from its captivity making him sigh with relief.

He was large, but you were sure you could handle it. You ran one finger gently over him, caressing the crevice of its tip, and collected some juice. As you pulled your finger away, a silver thread followed, connecting you to him, and you looked at it, fascinated.

"I’m going to suck away and swallow that shyness from you… " your resolved words made him moan. 

You paused to look at him, his eyes locked desperately on you, consumed by excitement. Without taking your eyes off his, you proceeded to lick him, your tongue stroking his head, gathering all the precum. 

Opening your mouth wide, you surrounded his cock with your lips, capturing it in a sweet embrace, and began swallowing it slowly all the way down to the base, giving yourself time to adjust to its size as you noticed him holding his breath, the muscles of his abdomen stiff, his gaze attentive to each one of your movements. You kept advancing until you felt the tip in your throat, where you paused for a moment to concentrate and relax your gorge so that it could enter all the way. With one final push, you managed to take him all in. He exhaled all the air from his lungs.

With upward and downward movements, you began to suck him with a light pressure, seeking the perfect angle to take him into your mouth whole, your senses attuned to his reactions, his breathing, and whimpers, to match the right pace. His eyelids fluttered closed and his head tilted slightly backward, savoring every moment, while his obedient hands remained on the headboard, his knuckles white from the pressure his fingers exerted. He opened his eyes to look at you again, fascinated by the sight before him.

“Damn… you’re perfect”, Cabaji sighed out.

Encouraged by his praises, you lightened the pace and pressure, sucking hard as you rose back up to his thick tip, repeating the process over and over again, coaxing songs from his throat. His body stretched, further exposing his bare chest while his hands gripped the headboard of the bed more tightly, causing the wood to groan.

“W-wait, slower... I won't be able to hold it back.”

Knowing that you were making him lose control led you to want to torture him more. You extended your arms, and your hands traveled to his chest, where you began to caress the curves of his muscles, as you worked at the same time with your mouth at a frenetic pace.  Cabaji groaned in frustration as his head lulled to the side, his dark eyes meeting yours with a desperate look. He bit his lip and gently bucked his hips so his cock went further down your throat, causing a small gasp to escape from you.

"S-slower, I don't know how much lon... aaah…”

Your refusal to slow down appeared to prompt him to ignore orders as well, and unable to contain himself any longer, his hands disobeyed your command. With a swift movement he released the headboard and firmly grasped your nape, exerting pressure to thrust deeply into your mouth several times as you sucked him down. It didn’t take long for him to reach his end.

“F-fuck!”.

With one final, deep thrust, he came hard, his hips stuttering as his cock throbbed and released its thick load into your throat while his fingers threaded tight against your scalp. As he filled you up letting out a low groan, you did your utmost to swallow everything he gave you, just as you had promised.

Panting, Cabaji ran a hand through his dark hair, gathering his composure as he looked down at you, admiring how beautiful you remained with your tousled hair and flushed cheeks. You released him gently, freeing your mouth to speak.

“You didn't keep your hands on the headboard," you smiled. Getting up and crawling up his body, you pressed your lips in a fierce kiss against his.

"You didn't slow down," he kissed you back, his hands encircling your back to pull you closer into an embrace. Then, with a swift and fluid motion, he turned your bodies, positioning you beneath him. Looking down at you, he bestowed another passionate kiss.

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

It couldn't happen again.

In your bed, as your cabin mates snored around you, you gazed up at the ceiling, unable to sleep, reconstructing in your mind all that had occurred during the night.

His head nestled between your thighs, coaxing waves of pleasure with his mouth while he firmly gripped your quivering abdomen against the mattress…

The sound of the headboard banging against the wall, your face buried in the hollow of his neck…. 

You hastily grabbing your clothes to leave…

You shook those thoughts from your mind. 

As enjoyable as it had been, it couldn't happen again.

Having sex with a crewmate wasn't usually a good idea, as it sometimes led to misunderstandings, grudges, jealousy, and troubles entirely to be avoided in life on board. And you couldn't afford that luxury, you needed to keep as low a profile as possible, so that when you vanished, nobody would notice your absence. You couldn't let it happen again.

But of course, it happened again. 

After that initial encounter, many more followed, each one spontaneous and unplanned, sometimes occurring in the most clandestine of places like the pantry, the cellar, or even the armory. With each subsequent meeting, his initial shyness seemed to vanish, replaced by a more possessive and dominant Cabaji.

When the intimate encounters were spurred by the revelry brought on by alcohol during a celebration, Cabaji was accommodating, willing to let you take the lead and set the pace you needed. Those moments were for experimentation and delving more deeply into different ways to pleasure each other, and you quickly learned what things truly drove him wild and made him lose control.

Other times, your sexual liaison served to relieve stress following a violent encounter with an enemy crew, discharging onto each other the adrenaline surged after a victory or the accumulated frustration following a defeat. In these latter cases, you both usually got carried away by fury, and endured energetic sessions of possessive and rough sex, each fighting to dominate the other, focused on pursuing your own pleasure, using the other's body in the process with a frenzied and furious pace. 

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

"No," he reprimanded, his arms wrapping around your waist from behind, pressing your back firmly against his chest. You struggled against his embrace, striving to break free and reclaim control, attempting to twist around to meet his gaze.

That day, he had fought with Mohji. As often before, it had begun with a petty dispute that had escalated into the first mate challenging Cabaji to a duel to establish his dominance within Buggy's crew. They had fought for quite some time, and in the end, despite their evenly matched skills, Cabaji had lost, albeit narrowly. It only took you one look at him to realize that he would need you that night, and one way or another, you two would end up having vigorous sex.

Seizing you firmly, he steered you towards the wall until your entire front was pressed against its surface. Before you could plant your hands against it to attempt to pivot around, he captured them and pinned them securely against your back.

"NO," he growled as you fought harder, prompting him to tighten his grip even more aggressively, nearly cutting off circulation in your wrists.

"Against the wall," he pushed your head, forcing your cheek to press against the wooden panel.

In moments such as these, your attempts to assert dominance were in vain, for though your speed could sometimes surpass his, his agility and strength were greater. Nevertheless, you persistently resisted and sought to challenge him, driven by primal instincts and an unspoken understanding of the effect it had on both him and yourself.

You attempted a backward kick, swiftly dodged by his agile maneuver, his smirk amused by your futile efforts. He seized the opportunity to slide his leg between yours, forcefully nudging one aside to spread them apart. Drawing near, his heartbeat thundered against your back, while his hips roughly met yours, allowing you to feel his arousal. He gradually lost his grip on your wrists as he sensed your progressive relaxation and surrender.

"Give up, I know you want this too," you heard his voice, a mere whisper against the curve of your jawbone, “don't make me tie you up like last time”.

As his grip momentarily loosened around your wrists, you futilely struggled to break free once more, only to find yourself pinned even tighter against the unyielding wall. Seeking retaliation, you snapped at the air, growling, attempting to capture his lips between your teeth, but he withdrew just in the nick of time.

“Tsk,” he tutted, “I'm going to have to tame you like the wild animal you are…”

“I thought Mohji was the tamer,” you let out, sharply.

You reveled in provoking him repeatedly, testing the limits to see how far you could push. However, as you concluded the sentence, you bit your lip. Perhaps, given the circumstances, you had pushed too far this time.

You had angered him. 

With a ferocity that bordered on the primal, he clasped you tightly around the waist, lifting you with unrestrained force. Spinning you around to face him, he hurled you towards the wall, the unexpected impact causing you to gasp as your shoulder blades collided with the wooden panel, the sound echoing in the tense silence that followed. He seized a handful of your hair and yanked sharply, tilting your head back, so your neck was fully bared to him.

In this position, seeing you completely at his mercy, with your breath catching and your heart pounding, he seemed to calm down. With the tip of his nose, he traced a path along your throat, detecting the pulse of your artery, lingering where adrenaline surged through your bloodstream.

“I’d slit his throat before he could lay a finger on you”, he kissed you right at that spot.

Without shifting his attention from your neck, his hands explored your body, seeking the elastic of your underwear. He slipped his hand inside, gauging your arousal before assisting you in discarding it with a determined tug.

Grasping one of your legs by the back of the thigh, he raised it as high as possible, locking it around his waist. Feeling your calf pressing against him for balance, he repeated the action with your other leg, pressing your body firmly against the wall, making it your support point. Secured in that position, he undid his pants, freeing his swollen and pulsating cock which quivered in search of your warmth. 

“Tell me you want this”, he whispered in the shell of your ear.

“I want you, baby”, you uttered the words that drove him mad.

Without further delay, he bent his knees, causing you to descend, your back sliding down the wall slightly. Gripping his cock, he eagerly directed its tip to your sweet entrance, then thrust into you forcefully, impaling you and causing your hips to collide sharply upward against the wall as he held you securely by the thighs. You panted at the impact, both arms draped around his neck.

Cabaji remained completely still in this position, giving your body time to adjust to his and relax. He closed his eyes, focusing intently, and pressed his cheek against yours, awaiting a subtle signal from you to indicate that he could proceed. After a few moments of concentrating on the rhythm of your heartbeats, he felt your cheek press back against his, signaling your readiness. Firmly securing his grip on your thighs to prevent any slippage, he began thrusting into you with increasing intensity.

"Tell me you're mine," he pleaded, his voice barely audible over the moans escaping your lips as his hips relentlessly collided with yours.

You didn’t answer. 

He always asked you once, and you never responded, leaving him to content himself solely with your kisses and whimpers, something he always tried to counteract with a firmer grip on you, as if the fact that you didn't respond implied that you might escape at any moment.

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

Beyond your intimate encounters, there were never interactions between you: you neither spoke nor sought each other out. Your meetings were never premeditated, but rather fortuitous and accidental, and the absence of contact outside of these moments left you questioning whether the rest of the crew suspected anything about what was happening between you two.

One night, you returned to your cabin after having a horrible day. You had been particularly clumsy, and while organizing the juggling room, hundreds of balls, diabolos, and hoops had fallen on you. You had to endure some crewmates' shouts and spent hours putting everything back in place just as it was. All you wanted was to lie down in your bed, rest, and hope that the next day would be better. 

Upon reaching your cabin, you noticed something small resting atop your pillow. Intrigued, you approached, picked it up, and examined it closely: it was a delicate handmade paper flower, its exquisite petals meticulously folded to resemble a real blossom, alternating between shades of blue and white, reminiscent of Cabaji's scarf.

With a bitter chuckle, you cast it aside.

"What a fool..."

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

The following night, you found yourself in his bed once more. Throughout the day, the crew had been reveling and drinking, and a chance encounter in the evening had led you to end up as you always did, enjoying each other's bodies. 

On this occasion, you were lying face down, bearing the weight of his body, your legs spread to welcome him inside you as his hips delivered his final thrusts against you. Moaning deeply against your neck, he chased his release for the second time that night. With one hand pressing firmly your lower abdomen, he lifted your pelvis, seeking the perfect angle to discharge himself as profoundly into you as possible.

With one last, deep thrust, you noticed his body shaking against yours, his cock twitching as he poured all his tension into you, relishing the moment and taking his time, deep growls escaping from his throat.

Panting heavily from the exertion, he collapsed on top of you, his forearms bracing against the mattress on either side of your body to avoid bearing down his full weight on you. Once he had emptied himself completely, he withdrew, pressing his lips briefly against one of your shoulders in a sort of farewell kiss before falling exhausted by your side.

Typically, after finishing, you didn't waste time and returned to your normal routine, either heading to your cabin to rest or, if it was during the day, continuing with your everyday tasks on board. But this time, particularly, you were exhausted, and for the first time, you lingered a bit with him between the sheets.

“I’m drained,” you murmured.

“Hmm”.

You remained lying face down, arms folded beneath your head, forehead resting upon them, taking deep breaths as you tuned out the world around you.

Suddenly, you felt fingertips caressing your body, gently trailing down your spine, tracing an imaginary line over your small back and descending to follow the curve of your ass, the contact making your skin goosebump.

You lifted your head immediately, surprised by the sudden display of tenderness, and found Cabaji lying on his side, beside you, his arm bent and his head resting on his hand. His gaze fixed on your body with an intensity that bordered on... devotion.

His fingers traced the same curve again, drawing delicate patterns on your back and causing you to shudder again under his touch. Your body tensed up as the air seemed to freeze in your lungs.

What was that? 

Was that an expression of… 

… affection?

Your heart began to skip beats as anxiety invaded your chest.

NO. 

Immediately, the memory of the beautiful flower resting on your pillow the previous night flooded your mind, triggering an internal alarm. 

No, no, no, no.

No feelings.

NO.

You sprang from the bed in a swift motion, your naked body fully exposed to him. He looked at you, surprised by your sudden movement, yet a smile played across his lips, seizing the opportunity to admire your figure once more.

“You’re so pretty…”

“Cabaji,” your expression darkened.

“… yes?”

“... you know this is just sex, right? Nothing more.”

His smile faltered momentarily, yet his gaze remained inscrutable, making it difficult for you to discern his thoughts. Those stupidly beautiful, lined eyes fixed on you.

“Yes, of course I know,” he responded promptly.

“Good.” 

You stepped away from the bed to gather your clothes, an awkward silence filling the room. You dressed as swiftly as you could, the oppressive tension in the air making it hard to breathe normally. As soon as you were fully clothed, you opened the door, eager to make your exit.

“See you,” you bid him farewell, casting a final glance at the bed where he sat, still unclothed, with his gaze fixed on some distant point in the room.

“Bye”.

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

Following that last conversation, two long weeks went by without any form of contact between the two of you.

At first, you didn't understand. You were used to not having any kind of relationship with him outside of your sexual encounters, but even though you didn't talk during the day, no more than two or three nights would pass before you found yourselves in each other's arms again. However, there was no trace of Cabaji wherever you went. The only news you had of him were snippets of conversations drifting from afar.

"Hey, did you hear? Cabaji threw a knife in target practice and he missed. He stabbed a man right in his hand."

"No way! He's never missed!"

"Yes, yes, he did. He's been a bit lost lately…"

Occasionally, you would catch sight of him from a distance, whether in the galley, the juggling practice area, or on deck, where he was often engaged in conversation with the captain or involved in heated exchanges with Mohji.

As days went by, you began to believe that his interest in you had waned, signaling the end of your clandestine affair, perhaps for the best. 

You carried on with your life without giving it a second thought. Your days were a whirlwind of tasks, leaving little room for contemplation or reflection, and if you had any time left, you spent it plotting the best way to leave the ship and find another crew.

A few days later, you were walking down a narrow hallway that connected one cabin to another below deck. You walked calmly, lost in your thoughts, when suddenly you felt a strong grip seize your arm, pulling you sharply towards them and causing you to collide against their chest, momentarily throwing you off balance. 

Startled by the abruptness of the action, you glanced up to identify the assailant, only to find yourself met by the sight of a blue and white scarf—Cabaji. 

"What are you doing?!" you asked furiously, attempting to wrench your arm free.

"We need to talk".

"Let me go!" you used your free hand to shove him off.

At that moment, as if the capricious universe were mocking you, a crew member attempted to pass through the hallway, causing you to pause momentarily your movements. The space was so narrow that, to make room for him, you had to move closer to Cabaji, causing your bodies to touch completely. You felt a strange sensation at the contact, like a familiar warmth that your body had unconsciously longed for.

"Hey," the shipmate greeted as he advanced down the hallway. 

Time seemed to stretch infinitely in that position, standing so close to each other that you could feel Cabaji's agitated heartbeat, your chests pressed against each other. As the shipmate passed by your side, he appeared startled by the sight of Cabaji towering over you, firmly gripping your arm.

“You two okay?”

“We’re fine”, Cabaji snapped curtly, his eyes still fixed on yours.

The crewate, sensing the odd situation and not wishing to get embroiled in any trouble, hurriedly made himself scarce. As soon as he disappeared and you were alone again, you pulled your body away from Cabaji, and gave another strong tug to release yourself from his grip. 

This time he let go. 

With your arm now free, you turned around to continue advancing down the hallway. 

"I have things to attend to."

"Wait..." he said frustrated, stepping in front of you to block your path. You attempted to go around him, but he stopped you. Letting out an impatient huff, you tried to shove past him once more, your hands trying to brace against his chest.

"Hold on…" he grabbed your wrists mid-air to hinder you from pushing him, and you sharply twisted your hands, freeing yourself again. With an angry snort, he swiftly seized you by the waist before you could escape again, lifting you off the ground and pinning you against the wall. As you tried to push yourself away from the wall to break free, he grabbed your shoulders firmly, thwarting your attempts to flee.

"Damn it, you're so stubborn," he muttered in frustration.

Cornered and feeling the firm pressure of his fingers grasping your shoulders, you surrendered. You shut your eyes and drew in a deep breath, attempting to rein in the anger bubbling within you. As you exhaled, you steeled yourself to confront him, reopening your eyes to meet his gaze. 

Upon closer inspection, you were taken aback to see the fatigue etched on his face and the deep circles beneath his eyes, clear signs that he had been suffering. 

"Are you going to listen to me?" he begged you.

“Fine.”

"Good.”

His eyes darted between yours, seeming to take a moment to arrange the words in his head before speaking them. You waited quietly, somewhat concerned because you had never seen him so distressed. His eyes then moved to your lips, lingering on them for a few seconds.

"And?" You asked haughtily, titling your chin up. Your question seemed to bring him back to reality and his dark, lined eyes refocused on yours.

"Okay... ,“ he inhaled deeply, struggling to find the right words and not mess things up. “Well, I… I knew the rules... but …," he paused again.

"What rules?” you asked, urging him to continue.

“Listen, I know we… No, I… I  was not supposed to fall…,” he halted abruptly. He seemed to be delivering the most complicated discourse of his life, looking at you with a furrowed brow. You could almost hear the neurons in his brain, racing to find the right words.. “I’ve tried, I've tried hard but I…”.

Without understanding anything of that nonsense, you lost your patience.

“Cabaji, what the hell are you talking ab...?” 

“I miss you,” he cut you off.

You arched an eyebrow, taken aback. 

"What?"

“I miss you,” he repeated, more confident this time, finally finding the courage to deliver a somewhat coherent speech. “I … can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can’t even hit a target. I can’t live like this''.

Your eyes widened as your brain processed his words gradually, incredulous at what you were hearing.

“... I'm craving you”.

You were speechless, bewildered by his desperate words, which caught you completely off guard. Time seemed to stand still, the creak of the wood and the gentle sway of the boat the only signs that the world hadn't stopped.

Your eyes briefly darted to his hands, your shoulders flushed from the pressure of his grip. Following the direction of your gaze, he suddenly seemed to realize that he was still holding onto you and immediately released you.

"Forgive me," he apologized in such a low tone that it was only audible to you.

You stood there, staring at him intently, your back pressed firmly against the wall as your head spun.

“Y/N, please… please, come to me tonight.  Please, let me have you again tonight, I … I rather jump overboard than deal with another night without you”. 

He was pleading with such desperation that you felt a tightness on your throat, overwhelmed by everything you were having to process in that moment. A sense of infinite sadness engulfed your chest, releasing all the suffering you had been denying yourself from feeling these past few weeks. 

"And…,” he continued, “I can't stand you leaving afterwards. I’d like to spend more time with you… I want to be able to caress you without you fleeing from me in fear."

You remained silent, unsure of what to say. It was too much, too many thoughts, too many feelings, and you didn't know which path was the wisest to take. 

“Cat got your tongue, huh?” he smiled sadly.

You turned your face to the side and averted your eyes from him to give yourself a few seconds to think without feeling the pressure of his hungry eyes staring into yours, desperate for a response.

“I am not scared of you,” you managed to say with a thread of voice.

He lifted one of his hands and brought it to your chin, gently holding it between his fingers to guide your face back to his and meet his gaze head-on.

“No…" he sighed, "you're scared of us. Of what we could become… if you let me”.

His fingers moved from your jawbone to your cheek, his thumb softly caressing it, causing you to shiver. How was it possible that after all the physical contact you had shared for weeks, after all the scratches, licks, bites, grips and thrusts, what you found most challenging to endure was a simple caress?

“... would you? Would you let me?”

Your mind scrambled, attempting to swiftly piece together a response. The plans to abandon the boat flashed through your mind, as until that moment, leaving within a few months had been a firm decision. But now, as you stood there, your thoughts became a tangled mess, forming a lump in your throat that silenced any reply.

Sensing your distress and hesitation, Cabaji gently eased the pressure his fingers exerted on your cheek and seeking to grant you some breathing room, his body appeared to drift imperceptibly away from yours. You perceived the shift, and in that instant, realization dawned. You understood then, deep in your core, that you truly were afraid.

It was the fear that Cabaji might let you go and turn away. The fear of him never touching you again, the fear of never feeling his lips against yours, the fear of him never looking at you with the intensity he did in those moments. The fear of him disappearing from your life forevermore.

You lifted your hand, letting it hover momentarily before cupping his own, cradling it against your cheek. Meeting his weary gaze, you smiled softly at him and offered a silent affirmation with a nod.

“My love…” he smiled back at you, exhaling the relief that anticipation had built up in his lungs. His hand left your cheek and moved slowly to your nape, his fingers tangling in your hair. With gentleness, he drew your head towards his until your noses brushed lightly. Sensing your breath quickening nervously, he paused, unsure if this was really what you wanted.

As he came to a halt, you let out a frustrated exhale and, gripping his scarf tightly, you forcefully pulled him towards you to close the short distance separating your lips, causing them to collide and seal in a loving kiss.

Encouraged by your determined attitude, he kissed you back, long and deep, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer to him as if every inch of distance between you was too much to bear. After spending so much time apart, the kiss felt so good that you began to search for more and more hungrily, hardly letting him breathe, chaining one kiss to another, eliciting soft moans from his throat. 

Each time the kisses felt like they were nearing their end, your lips ravenously sought his once more, while he, caught up in the fervor of your embrace, allowed himself to be carried away. When the lack of air forced you to lower the intensity and part, he looked into your eyes.

“Tell me, are those things you have to attend to now so urgent?”

“No,” you said quickly, leaning in eagerly to kiss him again.

“Well… ,“ he stopped you for a moment, placing his index finger on your lips, “why don’t we go to bed and see if this time you're ready to answer if you're mine?” And before you could reply, he captured your mouth with his again, smiling into your lips.

You know this is just sex, right? Nothing more.

Your own words echoed in your mind as you hooked your arms around his neck and pressed him against you, angling your chin to deepen the kiss further.

Fuck it.

.

[tinkerbelle05]

sanjiiii

How Could You?

Characters: Sanji x Fem!reader

Genre: Angst (Requested) Thanks for the req 🧑‍🍳

Summary: You understand that Sanji is a natural flirt and that’s just how he talks. You are fine with that because that’s his personality but one night he took it too far. You give him the silent treatment as you try to understand your feelings but he keeps pestering you so you snap.

Warnings: Arguments, silent treatments, bad ending, google translations, not edited

Translation: Ma Colombe = My Dove

————————————————————————

You sat in the back of the restaurant, watching Sanji move around the place as a waiter now.

Which meant he probably pissed of Zeff again. The way those two fought and carried on, one would’ve thought they would’ve killed each other by now.

While you felt bad for him because you knew how much he loved cooking and despised waitering, it gave you a good chance to admire him. A chance that often doesn't arise, so of course you didn't waste it.

His beautiful smile, the way he effortlessly slid in between tables, the way he’d make people feel comfortable. In some cases, a bit too comfortable for your liking.

There was this woman, black long hair and sharp green eyes that’s been eyeing Sanji ever since he went to her table. It made you feel a sense of pride that Sanji was so sot after but he’d always return to you at the end of the day.

No matter how much he’d sing their praises, or give out charming smiles. He would also come home to you, and he’d never cross that line.

Until he did. Right in front of you, too.

You were practically seething with anger when you saw how she trailed a finger up his forearm and how he didn’t make a move to stop her. How that same finger traveled up to rest on the back of his neck. They didn’t have to say anything to each other, just the way they looked at each other was enough to have you recoil in absolute disgust and betrayal.

Quickly and quietly you left the restaurant and went to your quarters. It was times like these that made you happy you had a separate bedroom from Sanji. Even though it was mostly used as a storage closet for you stuff, you were still able to sleep and move around comfortablely in it.

Because something told you that you’d be in here for a while after what you just saw.

For sometime, you avoided any and all contact with Sanji. Yes, you knew that it was immature but you didn’t care.

Your heart still hurts when you think about to how he looked at the woman, it was almost lustful. You wondered when was the last time Sanji looked at you like that.

There was a knock on your door, as there always were.

“Darling, please open the door,” Sanji began his daily begging. He’s been at this for a few weeks now.

Everyday after his shift ends, Sanji would rush to your door and begged with everything he had to get you to open the door. To get you to talk to him. There are times when the cracks in his voice makes your resolve falter. Makes you want to open the door and hug him tightly.

But you were still hurting. Still annoyed. Still confused. You had some understanding of how Sanji was. How he’ll use his charm and good lucks to get extra tips, to get people to come back for more. And sometimes, that was just how he was as a person.

So you understood perfectly that most of it was a weird mixture of how he normally acts and was an act in of itself to get more money. You understood perfectly.

Didn’t stop it from hurting though. You felt like someone ripped your heart out of your chest and stomped on it. You felt like you were being unfair to him. You felt like you were being unfair to yourself. You felt like—

You opened the door. He stood there with his hands in his pockets looking down. Upon hearing the door, he lifted his head.

He’d been crying.

Red, puffy eyes stared back at you. He said nothing, his expression in shock. He quickly sobered up.

“Um,” he scratched the back of his head, “Hello.”

You cleared your throat, “Hi.”

You two stood there at a moment, not saying much of anything. Just staring and waiting. Waiting for someone to say something.

“I’m sorry,” Sanji said suddenly. “I….I’m not sure what I did but—“

“Really?” You gave him an unimpressed look, “You truly don’t know what you did? Why I’m mad at you? You haven’t the slightest clue?”

He swallows nervously and avoids your face. His eyes staring into space, you don’t know what’s going on in his mind. You were about close the door, too tired of this bullshit but he blocks it with his foot.

His hands clenched on the doorframe, he’s leaning towards you, nearly towering over you. Normally, that’ll leave you a blushing mess, and maybe that’s what he’s hoping for, but you just glare up at him. Stepping back a little to create space between you two and he falters.

“Just tell me, already! What did I do? What I have done? Please, ma colombe!” He pressed on.

“How can you not know?! How obtuse do you have to be—", you started to yell but he interrupted you.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake just tell me!” He begged you, his voice cracks. From the way that he's standing, you assumed he'll fall to his knees at any moment.

“You and that woman. The one with black hair, how you were talking to her. Touching her, looking at her. It was…disgusting. You didn’t even have the audacity to be shameful about it.”

He looked confused which quickly transformed into a crude mixture of shock and angry. “Your joking, right? Please, tell me that this is some elaborate prank on me because you can’t seriously be mad at that!”

You glared harder at him, “No! It isn’t a joke. The way you acted hurt me, Sanji. I understand that you act like that, but there are certain lines that you don’t cross.”

“What lines are you—”

“You were about to kiss her! You leaned in and then you stopped yourself. Guess you suddenly remembered you had a girlfriend,” you yelled at him, and the tears were starting to spill again but you had to pull it together.

Sanji stared at you for a while, not saying anything. But the look of realization donned on him and he stepped back.

“I—I’m sorry, I didn’t think…you saw that,” he fumbled over his words.

You sniffed and looked away from him, you didn't want him to see you crying like this.

“Really? That’s all you have to say?” You questioned him, backing away even more.

He attempt to get closer, you walk backwards until your back is pressed against the wall and you can’t run anymore.

“It didn’t—” he started to say but you stopped him.

“Don’t. Don’t say that you didn’t mean to or that you it was a mistake. I know, I know that you regretted the moment you went close. But….I don’t know. I….I don’t know if I can trust. To not cheat on me. Or have wandering eyes.”

“Ma colombe, I would never. You know all my flirtations are not real. I love you. It’ll always be you, no one else. I swear to you,” he continued to plead with you. He comes closer, until his body pressed against yours and he cups your face so gently. Like your precious jewel to him, he couldn’t afford to break.

But he already broke you.

You looked down instead, you didn’t want to meet his eyes. This was hurting you. This really was. And to say that there was no love between you, would be a lie. But love isn’t enough, not anymore. It can’t fix this. You saw love try to fix your parents’ marriage and that didn’t end well. And you refuse to end up like them.

Your gaze met Sanji’s and you could see the the little hope he had diminished when he saw your expression.

He understood. That is good, it would make this process less painful. He nodded to you and smiled. He kissed you on your lips gently, savoring the taste and feeling one last time. And then he was gone.

————————————————————————

Tags: @abree234, @childofhecate108, @louissolovely, @randomhoex, @marceesworld, @dragonqueenfk, @puff-hugs, @msmisasoup, @localcowboyd, @thatgothic-nerd, @0picels0. @charliepoopyfart, @rotin0, @nikolaevna-art, @cielitoot7, @tayharrper, @simpingmyassoff, @borkbarnes, @villainouspotential, @ramielll, @fuck-you-im-gae, @poketrainer2270, @dazaisfavgf, @hopester08, @don-tuna, @avatarkanemi, @dimplewonie, @fandomsunited, @synchronised-beat

Taglist & Masterlist & Reqs Info

[i-am-vita]

A Night at Loguetown

A Bogard x FemOcReader Oneshot

+ 7,700 words Looong, I don't know what the hell happened here.

👉 My Masterlist, Oc Ghost Rose Masterlist

Fic based on my OPLA hot older guys headcanons. Just a little angsty love for the five Bogard fans out there. Shot out to those who wanted some Phantom Captain content.

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Summary: 8 years ago you had to go into hiding with your little niece to protect her after the demise of your entire stranded family. During the process to claim her as your ward, you meet again with the man whose heart you broke along with yours when you ran away from the life your family had decreed for you.

Warnings: Some swearing. Mention of family loss. Bittersweet, things may get angsty. Mention of drinking. Light NSFW, no smut but implicit sex. Definitely angsty ending.

Expect: They have History... and not just Bogard and Reader. Lovers to Strangers to Lovers. Idiots in Love who won't talk things out. Lost Chance. Use of You, not Y/N. FemOcReader, fem pronouns. Bad english, consistent time tenses not detected.

Any other warning or expectation you detect, let me know.

Really, dear showrunners had no business hiring such a young handsome actor for Bogard. I accept no complaints.

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8 years ago...

Poorly. You had thought of this poorly.

You've made a career in white collar robbery and piracy by planning and being prepared for every eventuality. You didn't enter a room without a full plan of action and at least three escape routes.

But all those years of pirate life went to hell the moment you heard of the ultimate demise of your entire estranged family. So when you knew of the survival of your niece and where she had been sheltered after the shipwreck, you had to make an effort not to zoom into the Loguetown Marine Base in a frenzy that would rival Kuro's during one of his bloodlust nights.

Still, you charged through the main door and into the hallways with such a pose and authority that the guards took a while to realize you weren't an Officer or even a Marine at all, despite your pristine two-piece cream suit.

Really, the pencil skirt and heels should have been a clue.

"I shall talk with the captain in charge of this base!" You demanded while looking in your pockets for the permission with the appointment when intercepted by two guards who didn't take kindly to being bossed by a random civilian woman and rudely grab your arm. "Get your paws off me!"

In an instant, you had the first guard on his knees in a painful joint lock, his twisted arm being held by your right hand, your fingers pressing certain paralyzing points on his flesh. Your left was preparing to deflect the baton of the second one when a scabbard appeared and intercepted the weapon, sending it flying with the smallest of flourishes along with the guard who ended up crashing against the wall.

Your eyes followed the length of the scabbard to the figure of a man dressed in a formal gray suit with the white coat of a high rank Marine Officer, a gray fedora obscuring the features of his face.

Suddenly you were aware of the situation you found yourself into, bursting into a Marine Base and technically attacking an officer, with absolutely no escape route or back up since you practically jumped the ship as soon as you docked.

Then, the man in the fedora raised his face and the world stopped spinning for a second.

Oh, fuck...

Because of all the Marine Bases in all the Blues, you had to storm into the one he was stationed.

"Rick?"

Bogard had heard some Marines calling for a person but it had been the feminine voice speaking with such authority that stopped him in his tracks.

He turned the corner of the hallway in time to witness a guard rudely grabbing the arm of a well dressed woman while spitting words unfitable for a respectable Marine towards a civilian, let alone a lady.

"What the..." He heard the Vice Admiral who was turning himself while you immobilized the guard.

In an instant, Bogard had advanced towards the conflict and got rid of the second guard with a flourish of his still sheathed sword.

A heavy silence followed as he heard his first name from your lips. Nobody had called him anything but his family name since he had enlisted in his youth. Since you.

Your name too escaped his mouth in disbelief. His eyes widened as they traveled up and down your figure, taking note of your polished appearance but, more shocking, your martial pose.

You were never a fighter. Even from the short time you spent together in your youth it was clear you lack the ability to put on a fight. And here you were, ten years later, having blossomed into this stunning woman capable of dealing with a fully trained man bigger than you with only your non-dominant hand. In a skirt and heels.

It's not that you had been pinning over the memory of your first love all these years. You've lived the life you chose without regrets and had your own share of lovers through the time. But it had been an emotional amount of weeks with the memories of your beloved sister and previous life haunting you even in your sleep.

And with the memories of past times, inevitably came him and the day you broke both of your hearts…

The throat clearing of his boss brought both of you out of your reverie.

"Ejem... Madam, would you be so kind as to release the Ensign." You heard the heavily accented voice of an older man in full white suit and Marine coat pointing to the guard who still remained immobilized by your left hand.

I'll be damned... You thought when recognizing Vice Admiral Garp.

You loosen the guard's arm who snatched it and tried to regain his footing while reaching for his baton. A heavy glare from Bogard was enough to freeze him in place.

"Dismissed, Ensigns. You will answer for your manners later." He commanded both guards before returning his gaze back to you.

"... Madam, is there a reason why we shouldn't proceed as protocol for this exchange?" Garp questioned looking from you to Bogard who still remained unable to take his enthralled eyes off of you.

You barely managed to withdraw your eyes from your former suitor to look at his superior when another visitor showed up.

"Excuse me, Vice Admiral Garp, isn't it? May I intercede?" Spoke an elegant gentleman coming from the opposite side of the hallway, being escorted by a couple of guards. Dressed a little over the top with a dark blue three piece suit, a short cape, top-hat and a rapier sword at his hip, the old man looked like he had just come out of a ballroom.

Of course you knew your Captain Erik better. That was his to-go outfit for almost everything not pirate-related. And now he was presenting himself with his real identity to save your sorry impulsive ass.

"Shostakovich Eriksson, from Angel’s Arts and Exports." He introduced himself with an ostentatious curtsy. "I believe my employee has a meeting with the current captain of this base regarding the custody of a certain late Captain Charles’ child." He extended a folded paper accompanied by an ornate business card. The same paper with the appointment you had forgotten in your hurry.

Bogard received the papers and scanned them while Garp looked intensely at the newcomer, like trying to figure out something about him.

"Have we met, Mr. Shostakovich?" With a little gesture of his hand, Bogard showed his superior the card with the full name and rank of the gentleman. “... Duke Shostakovich.” Garp corrected himself.

"I believe we have spoken on the Mushi from time to time..." Your Captain answered enigmatically, giving the Vice Admiral a very particular gaze.

Both assistants looked baffled at their bosses.

You had no idea Captain Erik maintained certain communication with Vice Admiral Garp from all high rank Marine Officers. He tended to avoid them like the plague. Meanwhile, Bogard was sure at that point he knew all of his boss' associates out of the Marine but that gentleman's name had never come up.

Unless it was one of his unsavory contacts only known by a code name...

His sharp gaze went from Duke Shostakovich to you wondering what kind of job you’d do for someone like him. His only clue about what had become of you after breaking your courtship was a very recycled story from your family of you going away to be an artist against their wishes and cut all ties with them… and himself.

“A nasty situation.” Garp finally spoke. “Captain Charles was an exceptional Marine. Still, we are used to losing even the best of us, but his family too?” A pregnant pause. “I’m sorry for your loss, Madam.”

“Thank you, Vice Admiral.”

“Let's put behind this little misunderstanding. We have an appointment after all.” Suggested Eriksson signaling the hallway that led to the Base Captain’s office and making a small salute by bringing a hand to his top-hat as a farewell sign.

You were about to turn around when the Vice Admiral voice called for your Captain.

“Your Grace, may I have a word in private?”

A look of panic filled your face at the prospect of being left alone with the man who once asked for your hand so many years ago.

“... Why not?” Was your Captain’s answer.

Well, fuck.

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Garp extended the glass of whisky he had just served from the local Captain’s stash to the elegant gentleman and served himself a second.

“... Really, Erik, a Duke?” He asked finally after assessing his counterpart.

The Phantom Captain made a small shrug that did little to alter his perfect sitting pose while sipping his whisky.

“You never asked about my real identity.”

Garp sighed heavily and drank his whole whisky in a go.

From all the things he expected to uncover after Captain Charles and his family’s perish, the identity of one of his oldest associates was not in the list. While his acquaintanceship went as far as The God Valley Incident thirty years ago, when Garp teamed up with Roger and his allies to fight off the Rocks Pirates, their formal arrangement started as recently as after the execution of the King of Pirates. As a last gesture, Roger had shared with him the contact of his main informant, the elusive Phantom Captain, just in case he needed something. Since then, his exchange of information was limited to Den Den Mushi calls and the occasional meet with the mysterious masked figure.

“And why now? After all these years…”

“I've learned to go with the current when the unexpected happens. Would you rather me to deny everything and leave you suspecting with all these other dubious facts around the former Captain of this base?”

“And about your little assistant?” The Vice Admiral inquired about the pretty lass that had single handed immobilized one of their officers and had his subordinate so entranced.

“Ah, that information is not up to trading. She’s been like another daughter to me and her secrets are her own.” The threat was evident in Eriksson’s tone. Garp understood, he himself was protective of his underlings too, no matter how old and experienced they were.

“Funny thing, I was considering giving you a call as long as I was out of here. What information do you have about Captain Charles?”

“Native of somewhere in the New World. No registered relatives. Surprisingly wealthy young man. Enlisted at 21 years old under your personal tutelage. A meteoric career. Married at 26 to the eldest stepdaughter of late Admiral Thorne. Very low profile since then.” Eriksson kept enlisting the many accomplishments of his assistant’s brother-in-law. “Recently promoted to Loguetown Base… Killed a month ago during a raid at the ship that transported him and his family to his new residence. No survivors except for his only child.”

“Officially, that was an accident.” Grunted Garp tightening his hand around the glass. It had been frustrating to be asked by the upwards to let the case be archived as a shipwreck and brushed under the carpet.

“... That’s new.”

“Fresh from this morning.”

“Oh? They found out the culprit, didn’t they?”

“Not to my knowledge. What do you have?”

“Uhm… Didn’t you ever wonder about your former pupil's family name?”

“Are you calling a family feud? But no, no registry of his family.” Garp considered this new angle for a second. Marines hardly have any ties to their families once enlisted. Orphanhood being a most common occurrence. “Charles…” Understanding finally entered the Vice Admiral's mind. “No way.”

“Alleged fifth son, expelled and erased from the family records at 19 years old. Managed to steal a large amount of treasure before disappearing. What he took that was so valuable they were after him all these years and how they finally found him remains unknown.”

“Treasure or not, that would make that little girl the grandchild of…” The Phantom Captain made an affirmative nod. “No wonder they were eager to send her somewhere hidden and secure.”

“To send her…”

“The child was sent to a secure location when it was apparent the claiming process by her aunt was going to take a longer time than anticipated.” Eriksson’s left eye twitched in annoyance at not having been privy to that knowledge.

Like you would’ve said: well, fuck.

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The insistent tic of a nearby clock marked the pass of seconds since both older men had entered the small office an overeager Captain had borrowed, leaving their younger underlings at the small and empty waiting room.

Bogard’s gaze almost hadn't left your figure since the moment he caught sight of you, feeling like a caress in its intensity, leaving you flustered like that young debutante in his first ball that you were once.

"You look good." His words broke the heavy silence, finally addressing you for the first time in ten years.

"Thank you…” You found the courage to take your attention off the clock and back to your former beau. Time had certainly suited him turning that young promising officer barely out of teenaging that you were so enamored with in your late teens into this earnest and dashing man. “... I like your hat."

An unamused chuckle followed your remark. Bogard diverted his face to the side while taking a step towards you before returning his intense dark gaze to you again.

“... Are pleasantries all that’s left of us?”

Bogard had thought himself prepared to face you. After the death of his dear friend Charles with his wife and in-laws, it was obvious there was only one person to take care of their surviving child and the family's inheritance. With Vice Admiral Garp in charge of the investigation, it was inevitable that your paths cross again.

But a week passed, and then two. A solicitor from a private firm assured them you were on your way. More weeks… And just on his last day ashore, you stormed into the Loguetown Base, assaulting the first guards who dared to stop you from your meeting, looking all proper and polished with a Duke as your benefactor.

He was prepared to face the girl that had rejected his hand, he was not ready for the stunning woman that arrived instead.

“I didn’t believe there was an us left after...”

“After you ended it all?” The accusing tone was evident in his low voice, something that was expected. What you didn’t expect was the pang of longing in your heart when another step brought him closer to you, enough that, if you dared to uncross your arms, you could raise your hand to touch his clean shaven jaw and discover if it felt as soft as it looked.

“I understand if you’re still angry at me, but this is hardly the time…”

“There hasn’t been a time in ten years.” He spat coldly. “I looked for you. I asked and asked again but nobody would tell me a damn thing. Sometimes I wondered if you were still alive…”

Those first years after your departure were a torture to Bogard. Wondering where he went wrong for you to reject him and leave so suddenly. What befalled to you? Where you safe? Did you even make it to where you were supposed to?

“Because nobody knew.” You fought to keep your voice low in vain. “I didn’t want to be found. I didn’t want anything to do with that life anymore.” It had taken you years to finally dare to contact your sister, a fact she had sworn to keep a secret. Still, not even she would have been capable of pinpointing your location.

“... Was the prospect of marrying me so daunting?” Were his affections not enough for you? He knew his heritage was not nearly as much as your family may have wanted but his promising career and friendship with your brother-in-law were considered adequate enough when he asked for their permission to court you.

“It wasn’t. That’s what scared me the most. You were ready to reject the Vice Admiral’s promotion to stay with me and I was suffocating at the idea of a life like my mother and my sister.”

There it was, you’ve finally said it out. You both had your own dreams and ambitions before meeting each other, how were you so ready to let it all go wasted after mere months together?

“You were my first love, you still are the only man I’ve ever loved…”

You knew you never loved Shanks as more than the best of friends even if your on and off relationship had been the longest of all; Kuro had been a lie, a master manipulator that knew how to twist your affections and the memory of your first love to his interests; Buggy was a pretty eyes nuisance, it was just one time and you were wasted drunk after dumping Kuro. But Bogard? You may have been just a teen but your regard towards him was still one yet to be surpassed, and it was precisely its intensity that scared you off.

To hear that confession from your lips after so many years was like a balm to Bogard’s heart. His hand raised almost on its own volition towards your face, his fingers barely grazing your cheek when your next words halted his movement.

"... but we were too young.” You added in a defeated tone. “We knew very little of each other when we were together all those years ago and now… it’s just too late. We have our lives. I'll go with my niece soon and you to your next commission. If we leave it this way we may remember the good of those days as happy as they were instead of the tragedy that brought us today.”

Bogard wanted to punch himself for his idiocy. Here you were, dealing with the sudden demise of your family, changing your entire life that you had made for yourself to take care of an orphan child you barely knew. And here he was demanding and complaining for his ten year old unresolved feelings towards you like the sulking teenager he once was.

An apology was already forming on his lips when the office door finally opened letting out Garp and Eriksson who regarded their younger assistants with equal looks of bewilderment at their closeness.

You backed away to a proper distance, knowing that whatever time life may have offered you with your old flame was gone.

“Farewell, Lieutenant.” You made polite curtsy like those you were taught in your youth.

“Madam…”

Bogard brought your hand gallantry towards his lips in a goodbye kiss. His dark eyes never leaving yours. You let out a small gasp, soft red lips slightly opened like begging for a proper kiss akin to the one he couldn’t give you the first time you went away from him.

Sad eyes followed the figure of the Vice Admiral Second while both Marines walked away into the hallway.

“So… that was The Guy.” Eriksson murmured in a teasing tone. You could feel the blush taking over your cheeks. It had been years since you shared the story of your first love at a drinks night with your crew. You didn’t think he would remember.

At that moment, the current Captain of the base called you into his office to start the process you were called upon.

“So… that was The Lass.” Garp murmured to his second. Bogard cleared his throat uncomfortably, not letting his mask of stoicism drop from his face.

How could Garp forget all those years ago when the best of his young former cadets, freshly promoted to Petty Officer and ready to be permanently assigned to his ship, almost left everything for the hand of a pretty lass? A pretty lass that displayed a little more common sense by rejecting the proposal and returning his prize pupil to his original ambitions.

Garp knew it had been a bitter pill but the life of a Marine rarely left time for personal attachments and romance. Most officers ended up having few contact with their families and significant others until the relationships cooled down into mere acquaintanceships.

Eriksson's little assistant had made the right call and for that Garp respected her. Enough to make a small concession for a day, even if it came years in the after.

“All is in order to set sail with the first tide in the morning.” The Vice Admiral commented after several minutes of silence while the pair exited the base, heading to the docks.

“Aye, sir. All permits have been signed.”

“Good, good. Let’s take the rest of the day off.”

“Sir?”

“Life's too short to not enjoy a nice free evening when it shows up so unexpectedly.” The older man gave his younger companion a significant look. “I may look for a nice place to dine, call upon some acquaintances if they’re still around. See you on the morrow, my lad.” Garp gave a friendly path over his collaborator's shoulder and parted away leaving a very astonished Bogard.

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Bureaucracy was the worst.

Paperwork filling, walking from office to office, and explaining time and time again why it had taken you a month to arrive at Loguetown to fulfill your new responsibility as the only direct heir of your family and ward of your niece.

“You try to cross from the other fucking side of the Grand Line in less than a month…” You would think bitterly.

“Do not mistake the tardiness of my First Assistant as apathy toward her duty.” The Duke would supply, detecting the signs of stress over the fidgety of your fingers. “My dukedom is not around the next island and the Grand Line is not smooth sailing on the best of days.”

The presence of the Duke and the lies of your parents over your disappearance had worked well on your behalf. The fact your sister kept the carefully edited letters you sent her from time to time over the years and your personal Den Den Mushi contact helped too. That’s how the family lawyer had found you.

You were yet to be taken with your niece. They won’t even tell you where she was and that was the worst. Was she injured? Scared? Was somebody with her or did they keep her alone in some hide room for her own sake?

“All papers are in order…” The Marine Lawyer finally declared to you and the solicitor from the family that had taken your niece, a kind lamb-look-alike gentleman that introduced himself as Mr. Merry. “Miss Thorne may lay claim over the child as her legal tutor at any moment from now.”

“Excellent.” Claimed happily Mr. Merry offering to shake your hand. “I'm so glad this matter was finally settled. I don’t know how many more days I would be allowed to wait at Loguetown for the legal procedures.”

“And I deeply apologize for the delay, Mr. Merry. It has not been the easiest of transitions.” You said to the lamb-man.

“Of course, and I am deeply sorry for your loss, Madam. Your sister and her family were greatly appreciated by my employers and rest assured you and your niece are welcome as many times as you wish at their state. Their daughter, Miss Kaya, would be delighted to have her dear friend close.”

It relieved you to know that your niece was well cared for among family friends and arranged with Mr. Merry to set sail to Syrup Village in your respective ships the next day after brunch.

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The sun was low in the sky when you and Eriksson finally walked out of the Base. The weary sight of you gaining a concerned look from your Captain.

You were one of his best assets on the field, steady and fast when retrieving any information he may be after, your knowledge and culture toward appraising any of his retrieved pieces of art and treasures remarkable, your leading as his First Officer for the last years outstanding, but your patience towards more polite intercourses runs thin. Added the emotional turmoil of the last month and your recent encounter with whom he assumed was your first love… He knew you were ready to snap.

“What was all that with the Vice Admiral?” You asked suddenly.

“Dunno. What was all that with the Vice Admiral’s handsome subordinate?” A small smile finally appeared on your lips at your Captain Erik’s antics. “Where do you think all those assignments to acquire intel from Marine Bases came from?”

“...  You've got to be kidding me.”

Would there ever be a day when the Phantom Captain didn’t leave you stunned with a random fact about his mysterious acquaintanceships?

An hour later, you were still munching the new information about Vice Admiral Garp and Captain Erik’s association. Does that mean Bogard would be privy to the same information? Would his superior share the identity of the Phantom Captain with him? He looked as surprised as you at Garp’s assessment of the Duke when he introduced himself. Would Bogard judge the fact you ran away from your engagement to end up becoming the same thing he fought against? That you were the Ghost Rose?

“Stop, I can see the smoke coming out of your ears. If dad thought it acceptable to share his identity with the Vice Admiral it means he’s legit and won’t snitch on him.” The soft voice of Raoul tried to serene your thoughts.

“For once, it’s not the well being of the Captain that concerns our dear rose, is it?” Added Carlotta between sips of her pink cocktail.

“Ohhh, more like some tall, noir and handsome Lieutenant in a fedora.” Purred Meg giving you a nudge.

You drank your glass of sweet red wine in a go to have something to blame for the subtle blush on your cheeks. After you came back from your appointment at the Marine Base, your crew decided a farewell night of drinks was due. It had been during one of your first bonding over drinks night that you had shared the story of your first love and how you came to be where you were with them. You couldn’t believe they still remembered but that’s what you get when you deal with a crew who thrive in collecting intel from all the seas.

“Hey, if you need the night to sort things out, we won't hold it against you. I know these past weeks haven’t been easy.” Murmured Carlotta, giving your hand a friendly grip.

Your crew knew that while you loved them to death, you were also a person who valued more alone time when something plagued your thoughts.

That’s how you found yourself wandering the streets of the city of your youth, letting your feet guide you wherever they desire.

From your vantage point on a stone bridge, you could sight The Angel of Music at port, captain Erik’s favorite vessel, where you had been sailing for the past years.

It was ironic that, from all the crews sailing the seas, you ended working for an extravagant Duke posing as a Pirate Captain.

“Nobility was suffocating me. I could no longer live among the fake and lies of the World Government so I decided to run away to discover the secrets of the world.” Your captain had shared with you when you asked him why he had chosen you as a protegee among the Red Hair Pirates. “Your Redhaired boyfriend was raised in this Pirate World and has all the intention of living and dying in it. We had a very different upbringing. Life has a way of finding us and pushing us back where we come from, one way or another. So we, upper runaways, should stick together. We have better odds to face the comeback side by side.”

How forewarning have been the Duke’s words. Your old life had indeed found you and dragged you back where you started.

Your eyes catched the sight of the Marine Vessel captained by Vice Admiral Garp. Small figures in white running up and down, ensuring their evening chores, preparing to depart at first light in the morning and, hopefully, with it the memory of your encounter with your first love.

You turned from the view of the port and kept walking the polished and well kept streets of Loguetown, lost in your head among memories and ghosts of the past but sure of the certainty of your decision. You’ll go the next day to meet with Mr. Merry’s employers who had taken your niece temporarily under their wing. Whether she wants to go living with you to your birth town or both stay in Syrup Village with her friend, your life would change irrevocably. Again.

You found the square following the melody of string instruments. More like a hidden corner between the tall elegant buildings. A little cafe spreaded its product’s scent on the air along with the bread, cheese and spices of the adjacent diner. A few young Marine cadets and civilians occupied tables and benches, enjoying the still warm weather of the late afternoon and the ocean view.

A small band at the corner played soft tunes to which some couples danced at the center of the square.

You love dancing. It was the only joy you found among the insipid upper class you were dragged to after the second marriage of your mother in your infancy. You wanted your little town by the sea back, the seasonal festivals full of lively music and food, the narrow shabby streets with intimate corners such as this one…

You were brought out of your reminiscence by the silent approach of the same gentleman that plagued your thoughts earlier. His stoic countenance softened by the smallest of smiles while his eyes roamed your figure now free of your previous formal wear and encased in a fitting black lace dress.

After your exchange of words that morning, Bogard had thought you gone for good again. Dread filling him at his inability to express the longing for you in his heart. So many years of putting on a facade of soldierly professionalism had taken its toll and it had been tough to let himself be vulnerable with another again. He had gone defensive over your candor at addressing your past courtship and inexperience in dealing with the fervor of your affection toward one another.

The dismissal of his superior for the rest of the day gave him hope to set things right between you. He knew what the bureaucratic processes entailed so he was left with time to seek one of his favorite places for the very few occasions when he had had a free evening in the city and freshen himself up, but he couldn’t resist calling upon some favors to obtain some information about this Duke Shostakovich.

There was something about all that earlier interaction that wouldn’t let him be.

Hours later, he hadn’t come with anything that seemed dubious enough. Duke Shostakovich had had a clean business since he had claimed his title and current lands; his islands were a safe haven in the Grand Line for both his subjects and refugees. Nobody had dared to fight his territories, some islands near him even asked for his protection. If it wasn't for his philanthropic image and lack of expansionist ambition, he could be considered an equal to the Emperors of the New World… And have you been working for him all these years? Doing what exactly?

The sun was already set near the horizon when he was informed through a mutual at the Base that the procedures had finished more than an hour ago and the Duke and his assistant had left.

Bogard cursed his researcher nature for taking so much of his time. In his haste to depart to find you, he left behind his white coat and suit jacket. He was about to go back upstairs for them when a vision of a beauty in a black lace dress crossed his sight.

It was not the first time in the past ten years that he let himself be swayed away by the image of a woman reminiscent of yourself. He had to look twice to ensure that it was indeed you walking in the small square near the inn, regarding the dancing couples with longing.

Years of training made Bogard’s steps almost soundless. He was about to clear his throat to call for your attention when a sudden stiffness took over your back and you turned around. Your left hand moved unconsciously to your thigh where your trusted blades laid sheathed under the fabric of your short dress.

Your eyes danced over the silent approaching figure of the Vice Admiral’s Second. His coat and jacket nowhere to be seen, the cuffs of his shirt rolled over his toned forearms, the gray waistcoat accentuating his lean figure previously hidden by the burlines of his coats.

“Am I under any suspicion to merit this silent approach, Lieutenant?”

“It depends. Have you engaged in suspicious activities recently, madam?” The light jest brought a smile to both former lovers. Oh, if only he knew. “I happen to have a room in this inn.”

“Do you happen to spend many nights at inns?”

“Being in close quarters at sea for weeks can get… tiring. A good night ashore makes wonders.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.” You smiled at the memory of your first months at sea. How that first sensation of liberty turned into dread pretty soon. “I was ready to jump overboard and swim to port the first time we spotted land after three weeks at sea.”

It wasn’t the first time that something in your demeanor was off for someone presumably invested in the arts world, starting with your fighting display from earlier. Bogard wasn’t the most connoisseur of the arts trade but something didn’t match...

“You are thinking too loud.”

“May you elaborate, madam?”

“You have that same frown from the first time we met and I asked you to help me hide from my brother-in-law and whoever of his friends he was set to pair me with.” Bogard chuckled at the memory.

By request of your mother, poor Charles was left with the responsibility of introducing you to his most eligible acquaintances during your debut. Bogard already knew of you, having been asked by his friend to dance with you to get rid of his meddling mother-in-law. He didn’t expect to find a kindred spirit in his discomfort of upper social gatherings. Time flew by dancing and conversing with you.

Like that first night, Bogard extended a hand to you in a silent request for a dance. You gave him your own hand in return and let him guide you to the center of the square where other couples danced at the rhythm of the band’s instruments while a female voice sang about a night of romance in a far away city. He followed the familiar steps of the square pattern with ease and grace.

“You haven’t forgotten.”

“What kind of swordsman would I be if I didn’t have a perfect stance and footing.” He repeated his words from that first time you danced when you expressed your surprise over his skilled steps. “About earlier today…” He added after more seconds of swaying. He had a second chance that day to make it right with you. “Please, forgive me.”

“After how I ended everything, I should be the one asking for your forgiveness…”

“No, you were right in walking away from it all. We were too young and I asked too much from you too soon.”

“Let’s not lean on it, we are not those children anymore.”

“Indeed…”

You were right to point out how little you really knew about each other. He was so set in enamored you and made you his that he failed to assess your wishes for the future. While he could recognize and accept the infatuation of his younger self as immature in nature, the memory of your past romance was mixing with the current feelings of a full grown man towards a woman whose beauty and mysterious allure enchanted him.

His hand on your waist tightened until pressing your bodies closer in a sensual move that had nothing to do with those he’d attempted when dancing with you in your youth. Your left temple laid gently against his smooth cheek thanks to the added height of your heels. If he moved slightly, he could taste your lips with his and determine if they were as sweet as he remembered…

His intent was stopped by your retreating body while your head denied his advance.

“Nothing has changed from this morning, Rick. We are still set for different paths tomorrow.”

“There’s still tonight.”

Bogard drew you back to him and the soft sway of your bodies at the slow rhythm of the string instruments. Your traitor body eager for his touch, warmth filling your belly at the prospect… Would it be that bad to let yourself get a taste of what could have been?

“What then, Lieutenant?”

“May I invite you a drink, madam?”

A drink turned to full dine at one of the small tables at the terrace, among longing gazes and soft hands touches, sharing under the candlelights and between sips of wine those parts of your lives safe enough to not break the illusion of normalcy that you wished to enjoy if only for the short time you had…

You didn't mean to stay the whole night in Bogard’s bed, but your body refused to part from his warmth, your face hidden in his neck, the scent of his aftershave still lingering on his skin, his fingertips tracing imaginary lines over your naked back and shoulders leaving delicious shivers.

The first time you were set to retire from his room, but his thoughtful care at cleaning you and ensuring your comfort after your joining made you lure him against you again, and then more until exhaustion finally took over, letting yourself be drawn first to a light slumber and finally pass out in his arms.

.

Bogard woke up first after some hours of rest, his body used to rising before dawn after years of life at sea and setting sail with the first light. Reluctantly, he abandoned the softness of your body under the sheets to retrieve both of your clothes from the spots where they have been left behind during the night.

His foot made contact with a cold metal and he remembered the satchel of rose carved blades tied to your left thigh he had uncovered after removing your dress, the carvings combining with those of the rings that adorned both of your middle fingers. A small sight of panic had seized your eyes before he knelt and his skilled fingers got rid of the offending garment to continue his survey of your skin with his lips.

Now his inquiring mind insisted on his suspicions from the day before but why couldn’t there be a simple and innocent explanation? Yes, you worked for a noble dedicated to the arts and philanthropy for years, a Duke whose lands were located in one of the most dangerous regions of the seas. The Grand Line was unforgiving and a death sentence to those who didn’t prepare to deal with its hazards. You had lived in it, probably sailed it regularly as commissioner of your boss’ exports, of course you had hardened and developed fighting abilities to survive…

A soft slide of sheets brought him out of his thoughts to retrieve your possessions and leave them at the feet of the mattress. Your still sleeping form getting restless without his presence beside you.

He continued getting dressed, the Marine in him insistent in departing towards his duty, the man already yearning for your soft skin and the intoxicating flowery scent of your hair but he wanted to respect your decision of letting it be. In the past, he had overseen your wishes, took for granted that your mutual affection was enough to start a life together at the expense of both your dreams and ambitions.

Now he knew better and pondered if with the years he would have gotten restless or resentful toward renouncing Garp’s promotion and be stationed somewhere safe and have a family with you, like his friend Charles had done with his own.

Even when his body burned for you, more now that he had got the opportunity to have you, he could not feel other than grateful for you taking the decision for both to go live your own separate lives all those years ago but… what about now? You had taken the decision to come back from your life to care for your niece and start anew somewhere safe.

Would you be willing to have him in your life again?

Bogard rejected the thought as soon as it formed. What kind of companion would he be to you or even a father figure to your child? Always absent sailing the seas with the constant threat of losing his life in the line of duty. You had already lost a father and a stepfather like that.

No, you were right from the beginning. It was better for you two to go your own separate ways…

You were pulled out of your slumber by the subtle sounds of movement and fabric, your mind too trained to be alert to keep you in sleep anymore even if it recognized the safe space you were in with your companion for the night. Among the shadows of the predawn, you recognized the male figure of your lover getting dressed, the muscles of his back moving enticingly while he put on his white shirt and the rest of his formal wear.

Knowing the farewell was upon you, you rise from the bed and put on your dress, a sudden need to be covered to face Bogard for a last time. You approached silently and touched his shoulder gently, his lack of a sudden reaction indicative of his awareness of you.

“Let me.” You signaled the hastily made knot of his tie and helped him tidy it. His coats and hat remained at the table next to the door, ready to be taken. You couldn’t help taking the gray fedora to place it on his head, your fingers caressing the line of his short hair, down to his forehead, over his elegant nose and lips…

Bogard pulled you towards him for that last kiss he regretted not giving you before. His mouth eager and passionate while his hands roamed the skin of your back still free of the zipper of your dress. Your own hands wandered over his jaw and clothed shoulders, fighting not to tear off the fabric to feel again his warm skin under your fingers.

His tongue nudged gently your lips to deepen the kiss and yours answered in equal fervor. Both trying to convey with your bodies the yearning for a life that was no longer available to you. His eager lips drift down your neck to murmured sweet endearment in your ear between kisses.

“Mia cara rosa, I…”

“No, please, don’t say it.” If you heard him say it out loud you may have broken right there.

He acquiesced and finally pulled away from your embrace. You’ll remember everything happening very quickly from there. You helping him put on his gray coat, white Marine overcoat folded on his arm. You opening the door, Bogard pulling you in for another kiss, you drawing him in for one more… And then he was gone.

You rested your forehead on the dry wood of the closed door, letting out a small whimper and the tears you didn’t dare to spill in the presence of your love for fear of making him doubt your resolve of going separate ways again but…

Would you dare? You wondered while getting properly dressed yourself.

To share with him your true identity as the Ghost Rose, open up about your recent past, the things you have done, even against the World Government and the Marine.

As Garp’s subordinate, would his sense of order and justice be as flexible to accept you in his life? Or would he ask for no explanation and look the other way around to every suspicious detail of your life, letting the secrets accumulate until you drown each other in distrust?

You walked back to your Captain’s ship, silently and slowly, the heels of your shoes the only source of sound in the dark streets before dawn, unsure if in fear or anticipation of finding Bogard waiting for you after all.

The view of the docks greeted you finally, the first lights of the sun coloring the sky in bright pinks while a Marine vessel set sail to the horizon.

You couldn’t help yourself. You ran towards the space Vice Admiral’s ship occupied minutes ago and to the edge where the waves crashed against the concrete, watching the sea taking your love away the same way he saw you go all those years ago... A hand found a place on your shoulder giving it a friendly grip, you turned lighty to see your Captain Erik comforting smile.

Yes, life had dragged you back where you started, but you had people at your side to face the comeback.

.

.

.

I'm not crying, you are...

Moots and interested people I remember: @fanaticsnail @jintaka-hane @cinnbar-bun @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @feral-artistry @holylanguagesbatman @triangularz

[miirohs]

rats [u.s.p]

pairing: OPLA!Usopp x GN!Reader wc: 0.6k cw: spoilers for opla eps 5-7 but ive forgot which eps exactly so proceed with caution an: if i had a dime for every time i felt uncomfortable writing kisses id have a shit ton of dimes bc i dont want to write kisses but if it calls for it i must answer.

"Usopp, i need help!" You snapped, broom clutched precariously in your hands as you stood on the hanging table.

As your eyes scanned the floor, the small rat you had seen earlier darted across the floor, causing you to yelp and stumble back a little.

You had been stuck in the kitchen for a while, at a stalemate with the critter. You weren't sure anyone had heard your cries for help.

"Hey Y/n, i thought i hear you calling- What the hell?!" He jumped as the rat scuttled around his feet, moving back faster than you had ever seen him move before. It might have been comedically funny if it weren't for that fact that it was a rat, on deck of all things.

"Usopp you coward! Now's not the time to move away!" Usopp stared at you, looking down at the floor before looking back up with a hint of guilt in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, i might have left some snacks out, and i think... it might have attracted the little guy. But don't worry, I'll take care of it!" He offered, and you sighed in exasperation.

"Just... just be quiet for a moment. Let me handle this." With a deep breath, you steadied yourself on the table and lowered the broom cautiously towards the rat.

With a quick lunge, making a dangerous swipe at the critter.

"Gotcha! Wait whoa-" You lunged too far, dangerously far off the edge of the table.

Usopp's eyes widened in alarm, and he sprang into action, reaching out to grab you as your arms flailed, trying and failing to regain the balance.

Your breaths came in ragged gasps, and you looked up at him, your eyes wide.

"Rats," you muttered, warmth spreading across your face as you leaned slightly into his arms. "I'm sorry. Thank you for catching me, though."

He smiled, his dark eyes softening with concern. "Of course, I've got your back. It was a close call, though. Are you okay?"

You nodded, feeling grateful but also a little embarrassed. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks."

Usopp chuckled, his hand still lingering on your waist. "Well, I guess I owe you one now."

As he let go, you couldn't help but notice the warmth in his eyes and the gentle smile on his face.

You continued to watch the rat scuttle about the room, eyes wandering from his, broom clutched firmly in your hands.

The little creature had found a temporary refuge beneath the table, and you beckoned to Usopp. Whispering, you said, "I think we need a more strategic plan."

Usopp nodded in agreement, strange look in his eye as he watched the animal alongside you. "You're right. Let's not scare it too much. I have an idea. You stay here and keep an eye on the rat, and I'll try to guide it toward you."

Grabbing a jar, he quickly set up a contraption, fiddling with it before eventually placing a piece of cheese under it.

"Where did you get the cheese?" You whispered as he joined you, crouching next to you behind the island.

Usopp grinned smugly. "I always have a secret stash of snacks. Just in case of emergencies, you know."

"Dude, in what case would we ever need cheese?" You laughed, hushing as Usopp landed a smack to the back, pointing to the jar.

The two of you watched as the rat slowly approached the jar, lured by the scent of the cheese. Its tiny nose twitched, and it cautiously entered the opening, pawing its way in.

With a deft movement, he slid a thin piece of cardboard under the jar, trapping the rat inside. It squeaked in surprise, causing you to jump a little.

"We got it!" Usopp exclaimed, a triumphant grin on his face. "Well done, (Y/N)!"

You couldn't help but laugh in relief, "You're a hero Usopp."

He grinned, his chest puffing out a little with pride. "Well, it's all in a day's work for the brave captain of the Straw Hat Pirates."

"Well, i don't think the actual captain would take very nicely to that," You smirked, taking the jar from him.

"Hey-" He said, looking at you seriously before breaking into a smile, "-there's no telling. It can just be our little secret."

"Well, i'm going to have to charge you for that... How about a kiss?" You smiled at him, putting down the jar.

He glanced around the room before leaning in closer to you, a mischievous glimmer in his eye.

"Well, I suppose I could consider it as payment for saving you from that rat," he replied, his voice teasing.

The two of you shared a brief, sweet kiss. Warmth spread, goosebumps running down your arms as the chaos of the kitchen seem to melt away.

When you finally pulled away, Usopp had a satisfied grin on his face. "Consider us even now."

"Deal-"

A crash interrupted you, and you turned around, smashed jar now on the floor instead of the counter, without a rat to hold.

"Rats. Not again."

"Rats indeed. Better not let Sanji see that," He said, scurrying away as you flushed.

"You better get your ass back here Usopp!"

[minkyungseokie]

Iñaki Godoy

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