#[[crew quarters | closed]]
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themxtleycrew ¡ 11 months ago
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"So who's heading up the fireworks display this year?"
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"I was gonna talk to Sabine about that. She's, yknow, artsy. Plus we don't want a repeat of when Jackass rigged actual bombs in with the fireworks."
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"Wait? You wanted me? The schedule said 'Subaru'."
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"EVERYBODY TAKE COVER!"
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"Aah! YABAAAAAAAAAI!"
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macadam ¡ 2 years ago
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I’m gonna make a what could have been au for the pirates we never got in tfp.
Does anyone have any suggestions for canon characters outside of tfp that would work well in the crew?
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pilots-and-protons ¡ 2 years ago
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Okay but consider: 
In “Night” when everyone was bored and depressed from being in the Void, at some point Tom Paris should have definitely started humming a sea shanty until it caught on and the whole crew joined in singing.
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bonesmarinated ¡ 6 months ago
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NCR trooper having Christmas meal back home in New Cali. The tiny mess room was decorated in style. A green wreath hung at one end as a Christmas tree. The tables were loaded with food, they have fried chicken (poultry raised under NCR 'Food for Defense' program) hardtacks, pea soup, mash potatoes, cream chipped gecko on toast. The hardtack were soggy and moldy usually because of bad storage and ones infested with maggots, and weevils, but they didn’t mind that. That one night officers and troopers had their mess together. It was rather close quarters. They had a crew of four officers and thirty-two troopers, it was no dress affair. No fish and soup as you call them. In short, there were many drawbacks, but good spirits were not one of them. In the tight, overcrowded little mess room they ate and talked. The meal was washed down with potato coffee mixed with rum, and they lost count of the number of toasts that were drunk.
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cathkaesque ¡ 8 months ago
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Relentless direct action has secured another victory in the fight against Israel’s arms trade, as Elbit Systems are forced to sell their ‘Elite KL’ factory in Tamworth.
The company had previously manufactured cooling and power management systems for military vehicles, but was sold on after stating that it faced falling profits and increased security costs resulting from Palestine Action’s efforts. 
After the sale was completed last month, Elite KL’s new owners, listed as Griffin Newco Ltd, confirmed in an email to Palestine Action that they will have nothing to do with the previous owners, Elbit, and have discontinued any arms manufacturing:
“Following the recent acquisition of Elite KL Limited by a UK investment syndicate, the newly appointed board has unanimously agreed to withdraw from all future defence contracts and terminate its association with its former parent company”.
This victory is a direct result of sustained direct action which has sought, throughout Palestine Action’s existence, to make it impossible for Elbit to afford to operate in Britain. Before they sold the enterprise to a private equity syndicate, Elbit had reported that Elite KL operating profits had been slashed by over three-quarters, with Palestine Action responsible: Elbit directly cited the increased expenditure on security they’d been forced to make, and higher supply chain costs they faced.
And these actions did, indeed, cost them. The first action at the site, in November 2020, saw Elite KL’s premises smashed into, the building covered in blood-red paint. Between March and July 2021, the site was put out of action three times by roof-top occupations – drenched red in March 2021, with the factory’s camera systems dismantled, before again being occupied in in May. Another roof-top occupation in July, despite increased security, saw the site forced closed – once again painted blood-red, and with its windows and fixings smashed through.
In February 2022, activists decommissioned the site for weeks – closed off after an occupation that saw over £250,000 of damages caused, the roof tiles removed one-by-one. After this, Elbit erected a security perimeter around the site – but to no avail. One month later, six were arrested after Palestine Action returned to Tamworth – again taking the roof and smashing through, preventing the production of parts for Israel’s military machine.
Elite KL is a ‘specialist thermal management business’. Since the sale, the company focuses on cooling systems for buses and trains, but it had, under Elbit, manufactured these systems for military vehicles. Until December of last year, Elite KL’s website was advertising its military and defence products, and it was known to provide parts for Israel’s deadly Merkava tanks, with export license records demonstrating its provision of ‘ML6a’ components for military ground vehicles to Israel. The company was also known to manufacture crew cooling systems, for the military vests of tank operators.
Elbit Systems itself provides 85% of the drones and land-based military equipment for the Israeli military, along with a wide range of the munitions and armaments currently being used against Gaza’s beseiged population. Its CEO, Bazhalel Machlis, has claimed that the Israeli military has offered the company its thanks for their “crucial” services during the ongoing genocide in Gaza
A Palestine Action spokesperson has stated:
“Each activist who occupied and dismantled Tamworth’s Israeli weapons factory did so in order to bring an end to Israel’s weapons trade, and to end the profiteering from Palestinian repression. Every defeat Elbit faces is a victory for the Palestinian people.
Kicking Elbit out of Tamworth shows once again that direct action is a necessary tactic. It is one which must be utilised and amplified in the face of the Gaza genocide.”
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dilatorywriting ¡ 30 days ago
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Monster Mayhem: Siren's Song [Part 5]
Gender Neutral Reader x Vil Schoenheit Word Count: 6.8k
Summary: 'Rule 27: It’s a poor choice to help a hare at high noon, but it will certainly appreciate you if you do.'
WARNING for some descriptions of violence
[PART 1] [PART 1.5] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4] [PART 5]
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You’d first set foot on The Rose Queen when you were the tender age of eleven. Or, well, something close to that. It wasn’t like most peasant orphans were taught numbers, let alone how to interpret calendars well enough to mark the passing of years.
It was the first ship you’d ever seen up close—sleek, and salt-stained, and creaking beneath your toes. The Boy King at its helm had turned his nose up at you in his too big coat, with his too big boots and tricorn hat that kept slipping down over his eyes. It was a ragtag crew that you’d wandered into, made of nothing but runaways and street rats. The ship itself was just as unusual and fresh-faced. It was built in a very impractical sort of way, with hallways that led to nowhere and portholes that opened up into endless seas of shadow where you could tumble down, down, down for hours and never see an end (or so you’d been warned). There were paintings on the walls, all off-centered and hanging on crooked nails that wobbled with every dip in the waves. The masts and rails were stained a deep, bloody red, in honor of its title. And no matter how the raging winds and waves battered at those petals, your Captain would have you out there the next morning to paint them anew. The Rose Queen was the finest pirate ship in all the ocean, and you only half-said that out of personal bias.
The vessel of the Silver Songbirds was… not like that.
It was grand, certainly. But there was a barren cleanliness to it that didn’t feel lived in. Sure, Riddle’d had you literally scrubbing stains out of the deck with a toothbrush and pot of turpentine, but this was different. Sterile, rather than squeaky. The wood planks didn’t whine with a weary, seaworthy groan beneath your feet that you could feel through the heel of your boots—as if to reassure you it was there. The air smelled of salt, sure, and you could see a group of gulls circling overhead, but the whole of it felt… empty. Lonely.
The black haired man led you to a small, private room in the ship’s hull. That alone was strange. You’d been sharing quarters for the whole of your seafaring career. This new little suite of yours had a bed, and white paint on the walls, and a porthole for a window. He gently coaxed you into sitting at the foot of the mattress and readjusted the coat resting along your shoulders. His smile was soft, kind. The sort of warm, pretty expression that you could read about in a love poem.
You remembered your Siren’s vicious, pointed smirk—red, and haughty, and sharp enough to cut glass—and fought a pang of something you absolutely refused to put a name to.
When you blinked back into focus, his lips were moving in a slow, steady flow and you focused your best on the shape of them. It was hard, with how placid his expression was—with how little there was to make out of anything he was attempting to get across. And whether it be your furrowed brow or a sudden memory that oh right, you’d told him your ears worked as well as a three-legged horse pulling a one-wheeled cart, he startled into silence. His face twisted up with chagrin, and he offered you an apologetic smile with round, pink cheeks.
He fumbled around in his pockets for a piece of paper and scribbled out a hasty note to press into your palms.
‘My name is Neige Leblanche, and I’ll be taking care of you for this journey.’
You paused, fingers worrying at the sides of the neat, square bit of parchment. It felt right to offer your own name in return. That would be the polite thing, surely. But you paused, throat tight with uncertainty and a prickling, unpleasant sort of heat. Because you’d never even told your Siren your name, had you? Not even once.
And beneath that sudden, sour gut punch was something else.
‘Rule 116, your name is not a number, but it is your value. Do not offer it to any whose own interests are undue.’
The first time Ace had found himself with a wanted poster (‘Ugly,’ he’d complained, bitter. ‘How am I supposed to hook any tail with this? I look like a mutant potato. This stupid portrait is worse than prison.’), Riddle had taken your handwritten Book of Rules and underlined that one thrice over. You hadn’t thought much of it until you’d had to cut a hangman’s noose from around your idiot, foxy friend’s throat—the handiwork of the tavern folk he’d been boasting to only an afternoon before. And then it had made sense. Ace had survived (with a new, grand tale of woe that he liked to repeat ad nauseum until you wished you’d left him strung up), but the lesson had remained.
Carefully you swallowed the words resting on your tongue and offered a polite-ish nod in their place.
“Nice to meet you, sir. Thank you. For saving me.”
Neige shook his head in a panicked sort of rush, hands waving back and forth with a clear ‘none of that! None of that!’ before reaching back into his pockets to search for another note.
‘It was my honor,’ he wrote, words jumbled and sloppy in his haste. ‘It’s the duty of all officers to help those in need.’
Your brow pinched. Officer? Officer of what?
Your Siren had called these Songbirds dangerous. ‘Not safe’ written into the sand over and over again with his curled claws. You didn’t know much of mainland politics and other such nonsense, but maybe there was some sort of… Siren Hunting Order? Soldiers of the King sent out to scour the seas and keep them safe for a host of weary, would-be-merman-meals? That would make sense. It would make a lot of sense, actually.
Another note was pressed into your hands.
‘How did you end up stranded on that island?’
Islet, you wanted to correct petulantly. Riddle would have. Your Siren would have.
You opened your mouth and hesitated. Telling Nigel, or Nergal, or whatever his name was that your ship had been besieged by a pod of ravenous mers (and one fair-faced asshole who you already missed far, far too—) was as good as serving them up on a silver platter, wasn’t it? Siren hunters probably traded information like how pirates traded maps or merchants traded gold. And you’d be damned if your loose tongue was what led to your friend companion co-strandee’s family being hunted for sport just after he’d finally managed to make his way home again.
So you stiffened your upper lip and turned to look your savior in the eye.
“I fell overboard,” you said, firm. “Because I’m an idiot.”
He blinked, startled, and you could recognize the spluttered ‘…oh’ shaping his lips.
He handed you another scribbled bit of parchment, gaze averted and awkward.
‘I’m sorry.’
“Never apologize to the half-wit for whatever fallacy of their own led to them falling into the pit,” you recited naturally, and Nigel startled. His doe eyes went round with confusion and he tilted his head at you like a curious hound. Nothing intimidating, more like some kind of fluffy cocker spaniel or primped up lapdog staring up at you with too-long-lashes and too-few-thoughts.
You shrugged.
“Just a rule I was supposed to follow,” you shrugged off. You offered a slanted grin. “Though when you’re the idiot in question, it can be pretty hard to avoid.”
Neville smiled at you with a soft sort of laugh that you swore you could feel dancing along your skin.
Another note.
‘I’ll be back in a bit. Please enjoy the amenities here and get some rest. If you need anything, let us know and I’ll get it sorted personally.’
You dipped your chin in thanks and collapsed back against the small, flat mattress in the corner. It was soft, sturdy, probably good for your back and all that nonsense. The sheets were crisp and white, and they rubbed blandly at your weary hide. You could smell the lingering, sharp fragrance of some kind of tacky soap in the cotton. Totally not unpleasant at all. Theoretically, it should have actually been the best bed you’d ever slept in. But a part of you missed swaying back and forth in a net hammock, and an even bigger part missed plopping down in the sand with the heat of a crackling fire at your front and the even steadier warmth of the long, curling, press of gemstone scales at your back.
You flopped over onto your side and stared at the empty, carefully manicured surface of the desk opposite you and wished more than anything that you’d brought your shell.
.
.
The room was cold when you next woke, and you shivered into the jacket Neige had draped along your shoulders (because it was ‘Neige.’ It had been signed on the bottom of the note he’d left you that morning alongside your breakfast. Which was stupid. The dumbest name you’d ever heard). The starched fabric of it all wasn’t exactly comfortable, but it was better than shivering through the chilly ocean mists that were seeping in through the porthole.
You burrowed into the swathe of white and blue wool like a rabbit in a hole, and then winced in irritation when another of those stupid, gaudy pins dug into your cheek.
You plucked the first from its place—the duo of silver songbirds. It really was quite pretty, despite the ominous undertones and all. Two, graceful, delicate sets of feathered wings arching up into the sky—forever frozen in a dance to the clouds. You dropped it into the little, dark crevice between your bed and the wall. Good riddance.
Next came a crest that was familiar in a distant sort of way—a memory that tickled that back of your brain from days long past. You hadn’t noticed it before, what with the echoes of ‘not safe, not safe, not safe’ blaring in your head like an alarm, but it was just as neatly polished as the birds pinned above. It was diamond shaped, the edges embossed in twining lines like the cut of a rope. At its head sat a strange sort of crown, with the arches and more familiar pointed designs replaced by the billowing arcs of sails.  All of that gallantry surrounded a pair of rearing stallions—hooves crossed along a golden edged sword and circled with blue ivy.
You twisted it between your fingers, watching the metal glint in the low light. You hadn’t set foot in proper society since Riddle had let your young, dumb self abscond into the ocean all those years ago. You could hardly remember the flag of our home country, let alone the specifics.
You frowned and the edges of the badge pricked at your fingers.
You dropped this one behind the bed too, with a petulant flick of your wrist to make sure it really stuck.
.
.
‘I’m sorry I haven’t been around more often, there’s some business I’ve been having to take care of.’
You handed the note back with a shrug.
“It’s no bother.”
Neige offered an apologetic grimace nonetheless and another of those smiles that looked a bit too sweet to be real.
‘Do you mind if I ask you something?’
You bristled before you could help it, thoughts spiraling away to harpoons, and nets, and hunting parties. And then you settled your shoulders into a polite, easy line and offered one of your own too-put-together smiles in return.
“Yeah, sure. I mean, you saved me after all.”
Neige smiled again, easy and comfortable, and pressed another slip of parchment into your palms.
‘Where were you headed? When you fell overboard?’
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck you with a barbed cactus branch dipped in—
Ahem.
You cleared your throat in a way that was surely a Very Normal Person Thing To Do, and tried to ignore the fact that he was so brazenly attempting to map out his plan of attack—to pinpoint the route that the sirens had been chasing and run after it like hounds tracking a fresh scent. Which, to be fair, sirens were a scourge on the seas. Hundreds upon hundreds of good men and women had been lost to their crooning songs and wickedly sharp teeth. They were vicious, often cruel, and so much stronger than any mortal sailor that of course the world above would fear them. You’d been very much of the same opinion until only quite recently, and now—now you just couldn’t.
“I don’t know where we were going,” you lied, and Neige’s brow pinched in a dour, rejected kind of way. “But,” you tried, sprinkling in a touch of truth to make the lie go down easier, “I know we were coming from Port o'Bliss.”
He nodded, that uncongenial expression slipping off his face as easily as it’d settled there.
He rattled off something quick and bubbly, and you pointedly arched a brow. The brunette blushed bright pink and hastily scrabbled for another bit of paper.
‘Thank you for being so helpful. I know it can’t be easy.’
Your neutral expression froze on your face and when you smiled it felt more like a polite bearing of teeth. Did he know? Could he see right through you? Or worse, was he getting all the answers he wanted from you either way, no matter how you tried to coat it in a veneer of misdirection.
“Sure thing.”
He handed you another note, this time for his pocket. Crumpled and soft, the ink a bit smeared along the curling letters.
‘It’s a poor choice to help a heron at high noon,’ it said, ‘but it will certainly appreciate you if you do. So my thanks to you.’
Something settled in your gut at the familiarity, something deceptively warm and homey.
“It’s a hare,” you said, without much thought. “Not a heron.”
Neige nodded with a polite, smiling mumble that looked like another apology, and then left you to your own devices.
That night, a veritable feast was delivered to your tiny, white-walled cabin. A grand spread of food fit for a king. There was roasted fowl, pools of thick, spiced gravies, mountains of vegetables that you’d never even seen before. And tarts. So many colorful, fruity tarts that were so sweet they almost made your tongue curl.
“What’s the occasion?” you asked as Neige took a seat at your desk to nibble at the meal alongside you—a cloth napkin folded neatly across his nap and a clear glass flute for wine placed a bit precariously by his elbow.
He smiled, honey warm, and offered you another note.
‘For helping the hare.’
.
.
Neige didn’t come to visit you the next morning, and his absence had the hair at the nape of your neck standing on end.
You paced and paced around your cube of a barrack. It was maybe four steps from one end to the next, but the constant bumping your toes against the wall was better than just sitting there doing nothing. The worst part was the silence. Not the one in your head. Yes, yes, you were more than used to that. On and on, yada yada. But the silence of the ship. The Rose Queen had always felt like a living thing, a great, wooden beast with a pulse you could feel thrumming beneath your toes, your palms. All you had to do was lay a hand against its side and you could feel the rumble of the tide beyond, the rushing footsteps of sailors sprinting about to meet one of Riddle’s orders or other, the thump of heavy, wet mop heads smacking the deck overhead. It was quiet, but it wasn’t quiet. This ship? No matter how you laid against the boards or pressed flat to the walls, there was nothing. And it made you feel like you were trapped aboard a vessel full of ghosts.
The sun had long begun to set by the time Neige returned, and by then you were nothing but a livewire of nerves.
Had they found him? Your Siren? Was he there somewhere, just a few floors above—strung up like a fish in a net? Caught and displayed like a fine trophy? Or had they killed him outright? Had they found his pod? Had he put up a fight? Had he—
A piece of rolled parchment was held out for you to take, a satin blue ribbon tied along its belly. Neige’s soft, brown gaze was glued to the floor and you snatched the paper from his hands like a rabid cat and tore it open. You could barely keep your eyes steady to read it all—fine, pointed print done up in a neat hand.
‘—danger to those who venture—'
‘—for the safety of the people—’
‘—therefore, the decision has been made—'
‘—with the greatest consideration—’
‘—with immediate effect—'
‘—we have declared the extermination of—'
“You can’t!” you wailed, and Neige’s doe eyes darted up to yours and immediately away once more in guilt. “He’s—he’s not bad. I swear! I know how things look—and—and I know he’s not—that’s he’s a—but you can’t—”
Neige’s wavering stared jumped back to you in open surprise, and you saw his lips twitch on one word—delicate brows pinching in question.
‘He?’
You frowned and fought the urge to stomp your feet. Because, okay, fine. Sure, you were arguing tooth and nail for someone whose name you maybe didn’t even know. Someone who had swum away from your stupidly sentimental ass with all the power and grace of a beast fit to rule the depths of the oceans while you could barely flounder at its surface. And sure, sirens killed people and ate them. But this one was—he was special, and you’d be damned if you let some primped up fishermen try to reel him in on a hook just because he’d maybe eaten a few people. And—
There was a hand on your shoulder, and Neige was staring down at you with an expression not dissimilar to that of a parent about to tell their child that the cat had got out and met a terrible, squishy end beneath the wheels of your neighbor’s carriage. He sighed, dark lashes brushing along his cheeks, and then reached out with his other hand to tap a finger between your collar bones.
“What?” you snapped, and he tapped again. “Me? What about me?”
He paused, gaze meeting yours with a pointed sort of melancholy.
Oh.
Oh.
You remembered the pins you’d dropped behind your bed, one by one. You remembered the strange coat of arms crowned with golden sails and bearing a great, shining sword. Something regal, something imperial that a commoner like you would have only caught fleeting glimpses of in parades, and marches, and war calls.
Something like, say, Pyroxene’s Royal Naval Fleet.
You glanced down at the parchment again, crumpled between your fists, and smoothed it out into something legible beneath your fingers. You reread the text with careful focus.
‘For the Crime of Piracy’ it said. Right at the tippity top. In red ink.
“…ah,” you blinked. “That makes a lot more sense.”
.
.
You were to walk the plank on the ‘morrow.
Which honestly, you hadn’t even thought was really a Thing—walking the plank, argh. Fiddly dee and a yo-ho-ho. That sort of storybook nonsense. The parables that parents passed onto their children to try and scare them away from a life of villainy. Real pirates were put to the rack, or hanged in the town squares to scare the adults away from doing the same.
But you supposed it was practical, at least. Blood was hard to scrub out of wooden decks, so beheading would have been a bit of a mess. Bullets were best to be conserved out on the high seas where stocks were already low, and honestly, your body would just have to be thrown overboard anyways before it stunk up the barracks. So, like, doing it all in one would be quite efficient. You could appreciate that. 
Your hands would be bound at your back and you’d be given three breaths, three steps, and then you’d be tumbling down into the waves below. Claimed by the waters that you’d patrolled for so many years now. Fitting, honestly. Riddle would be proud (beneath the raging, spitting indignation of you being caught at all, but that was another matter). At least you wouldn’t be going out from food poisoning or something mundane like that, so that was a win. And who knew. Maybe your Siren would find you again when you were nestled to rest in some seabed not too far from here, and he could finally make a meal of your dumb ass yet. Happy endings abound.
You wondered idly at the dual branches of fate you’d wandered along in these past weeks, and if it would have been better to hide away when you’d first seen those sails on the horizon. To keep to the little, crescent island you’d found yourself on and slowly starved to death. Alone, abandoned, and sitting in a forever stillness worse than any silence you’d known before.  Forever staring out over the horizon for a glance of amethyst fins that you knew you’d never see again.
If given the choice between the two, you’d take the plank.
.
Neige brought you another feast that night, and you gorged on it merrily. 
When he nervously kept piling your plate with choice cuts after choice cuts, gaze diverted to the floor and looking like a kicked puppy dog with its tail between its legs, you rolled your eyes and swatted at his fingers.
“Unclench yourself,” you huffed, and he puffed up stuttery and pink in horror. “It’s not the end of the world. You’re just doing your job, right? If we’d met under different circumstances I bet I would have shot you first. So, really. All’s fair.”
He worried his lower lip between his teeth, guilt still swimming heavy and warm in those doe eyes of his.
He said something under his breath, something that you’d bet even if your ears were working at full capacity you wouldn’t have been able to parse out. He leaned forward to scrawl a note on the napkin beside your plate.
‘You’re happier now? After all this? I don’t get it.’
You reached out to pat him merrily on the shoulder, more a smack smack smack then anything really pleasant. He could see him fighting a wince with all the trembling sort of bravery of a field mouse. Poor dear. What was the Royal Navy thinking? Hiring on someone who looked like they belonged on an advert for rouge and sweets. This was the last face a pirate was expected to jeer into? This one? Really? It was a wonder this little, squirrely man hadn’t keeled over the first time someone spat on his boots.
“It’s a poor choice to help the fish at high noon,” you said around a mouthful of crumbs. ��But it’s my choice. And I’m happy to do it.”
“Fish?” you saw him mouth, brow pinched, and you batted at his shoulder again before reaching for another of those too-sweet tarts.
.
.
There was a whole procession for your execution. With speeches. Which even with the slowly encroaching panic worming into your guts, you couldn’t help but think was at least a little funny.  
The whole crew was lined up in solemn formation, listening stalwartly to some judge, or high ranking officer, or whatever rattle off who even knew what. Your crimes? A homily? The lunch menu? Fuck if you had any clue. And you were the one being fed to the sharks. There had to be some joke hidden in here, right? The scoundrel pirate who could never be tried, simply because they couldn’t hear their own sentencing. You wouldn’t even know when to stand up and shout ‘I object!’ It would probably be pretty funny, right? If you just did that out of nowhere. And what was the worst that could happen? Oh, no. A fine. Please, sir. Add it to the list of debts I owe from beyond my watery grave. Amen.
A hand at your lower back gave you a gentle nudge forward and you shifted against the ropes binding your wrists. They were nicer than your own stores aboard the Rose Queen. Not nearly as itchy, the fibers neat and clearly expensive. Neige stepped up beside you and offered you a look that was likely meant to be kind, but your growing nerves had started to eat through your willingness to play friendly. You could feel the weight of the crew around you, even if you couldn’t hear them. The creak of the deck beneath your toes as they shifted about, the way their bulk must have been shielding you from the worst of the wind. Unlike with your own mismatched family of castaways, their presence wasn’t reassuring. And you kept your eyes locked forward and away from the field of sharp gazes eating into your hide.
The plank was narrow, and immediately you were fighting the urge to sway on your toes. Having your hands bound at your rear only made it worse. It threw off the whole of your center of gravity and had you feeling dizzy and seasick.
You took one breath, stuttery, and one step. The wood whined beneath your heels in a vibration you could feel all the way up to your knees.
Another breath, another step. You could feel the salt soaked board starting to bend now. Clearly it wasn’t meant to support much of anything, let alone a whole person. And for some reason the idea of it breaking beneath you was so much worse than taking that last step all on your own. A sudden plunge that was out of your control. It had your heart hammering in your throat and cold nausea bubbling in your belly.
You looked down. You didn’t want to, but it was like your gaze was a weighted, magnetic thing. Pulled down into the salty depths below. The water looked rougher than it had a moment ago, or maybe you were just really starting to panic. You could see the white froth of the wake breaking against the ship’s hull. It churned like the start of a storm, which was really, terribly inconvenient. Seeing as it’d been so still and calm just a few minutes before. And, y’know, the fact that you had to fall into that mess of sharp peaks and rocking waves. You swore you could see dark shapes flitting about just beneath the surface, a flash of grey, or maybe green. It was hard to tell, with the brightness of the early morning sun in your eyes.
No one was poking at your back, urging you forward, which you thought was quite odd. You’d been taking your sweet ol’ time sauntering to your demise. You’d assumed they’d have less patience for a pirate with cold feet. Instead, the world around you was just silent and still. Shifting with the raging waves below, but empty and quiet as a tomb for all you knew otherwise.
You took your last breath, your last step.
And then the ship lurched and you were plummeting towards the water. The dissonance between having something beneath your feet—no matter how frail—and then nothing was jarring, and it had you gasping on impulse. Hair whipping at your cheeks and lungs squeezing tight as the air screamed past your throat. It felt like you were drowning before you even hit the water.
When you did finally crash into the waves, it hurt. You’d always been a fairly proficient swimmer, but whether it be the mind numbing panic or the ropes binding you tight, tight, tight, you just started to sink. The salt stung like an open wound, and the water was cold. Frigid. Like being tossed into the jagged side of a glacier. You at least had the sense not to gulp down a mouthful of water out of reflex, but that didn’t make things much better.
You screwed your eyes shut, bubbles frothing at your nose, and tried to find that peace that you’d clung to all night long. A life for a life, one catch for another. No one was going to miss you anyways. And if you had to meet the reaper some way, then of all the ends the universe could have spun for you, at least this one had some meaning to it.
You sighed into the darkness, soft, but when your lips parted next around what should have been a mouthful of icy saltwater, all you could taste was air.
Your eyes shot open in the gloom to a mess of familiar golds and purples that you’d thought you’d never see again.
Your Siren pulled back, bubbles curling from the edge of his lips into a soft stream of warmth between the two of you. Nestling as deep as a full breath all the way in the tightest corners of your lungs. You could feel the dip of his claws as he settled his hands at your shoulders—keeping you in place. And immediately you shrieked and flailed in your bindings.
“You—!”
You promptly choked on another mouthful of sea water and your Siren wailed—all that molten fondness in those lovely amethyst eyes of his sharpening into familiar, pissy exasperation from one second to the next. He dragged your face back to his, slotting his mouth against yours and pushing more air into your lungs. You leaned into it before you could help yourself. Half for the whole oxygen thing, and half, because, well—
When he pulled away this time he smacked a hand over your mouth with a sneer, his thumb and index finger hooked upward to pinch at your nose. He jabbed a claw in your face with a clear ‘stay put’ and immediately went to work cutting through the bindings twined along your arms. The ropes fell away beneath his talons like butter to a hot blade, and he fretfully ran his palms up and down your limbs—looking for any stray bits of netting like a compulsion. Once he seemed certain that you’d been properly freed from your ties, he hauled you up against his chest in a grip that had you losing all the air in your lungs all over again. You could feel the cool jut of the sea glass around his neck pressing into your collar, and he buried his head down into your throat until you didn’t know where he ended and you began. The frills of his tail fluttered in the water, and the bulk of those twining strands curled up and around your legs like a barnacle.
He was warm. Warmer than you’d been expecting, for a creature who spent his life patrolling the darkest depths of the ocean. It wasn’t the same sort of heat that would beat off a human’s hide, but it was more comforting than any you’d ever known. You burrowed down against his shoulder, nose scrunching against the side of his neck and the fins at his ears brushing your temple. You could feel his claws flexing at your sides, feel the shift of his scales against your skin. And just as your lungs were starting to burn, he ducked forward to pull you into another kiss—filling your chest with wonderful, wonderful oxygen all over again.
You blinked blearily past the sting of salt in your eyes and he scrubbed a thumb against your cheek.
Now that those high, wonderful, heart bursting emotions were settling back into something manageable beneath your ribs, you took a moment to look at him. Really look at him. Because you’d sent him on his way, hadn’t you? Waved him off with well wishes and a hope for his happiness. And all that aside, how had he even managed to find you—
Bubbles streamed from your nose as that newest shared breath began to run dry, and your Siren hooked an arm around your waist to propel you upwards.
You crested the surface with a gasp, paddling instinctively against the churning wake. When all that did was leave you smack, smack, smacking at your Siren’s chest like a flailing toddler, he hissed—a spitting, pissy thing you could feel on the breeze—and hauled you back up against him. Just like he had all those times you’d swum together in your cove. You forced yourself to settle, bobbing gently against the tide as he kept you both aloft.
Once your body had managed to catch up with your brain to realize that it was, in fact, not drowning, all of the adrenaline rushed out of you like a broken spicket. You slumped against the Siren’s chest, fuzzy headed and dizzy. Because he’d saved you. Which made no sense in the least. But you’d almost died, and he’d saved you—
Your gaze drifted back up to the ship from which you’d only so recently taken your Cannonball of Doom and startled.
There was blood everywhere.
Staining the railings, splashed along the low flying flags, dripping along the deck. A macabre mess of gore and claw marks gutting the once grand vessel like a beached whale. Some of the crew still seemed to be hanging onto the life rafts, others were taking running leaps into the water like they were under compulsion—eyes glazed over and distant. There was a prickling all along your skin, something twisting familiar and strange in your gut, and oh. Oh.
One of the grander looking officers (the one who had been giving your pre-execution speech, perhaps? He looked similar enough) was shouting something from his place at the bow of one of the life rafts—arm extended in a grand show of valor and sword glinting into the light of the morning. And then a great, emerald siren was rearing over the side of that tiny vessel with a sharp grin on his face and sharper talons on display. The officer was dragged overboard, and the siren’s tail came down on the guardrails with a force that had the wood splintering and the already haphazard little boat rock, rock, rocking until it caught on a high wave and capsized.
You could see the flash of colorful scales and the tips of even brighter fins all around. Cresting above the water just long enough to grab hold of another wailing victim and drag them down to the depths. There was enough blood in the water that you could smell it. Acrid and copper against the ocean’s already sharp, salty musk. And sure, you were a pirate. You’d been in raids, you’d seen death. Plenty of it. But this. Well. It was unfamiliar. In a strange, detached sort of way. These assholes had chucked you overboard, after all. So you only really had a teensy, tiny pinch of sympathy for the fact that being eaten alive probably hurt like a sonofabitch.
It was more strange, you supposed, to be at the center of a sirens’ hunt and not be the one facing down the angry, bitey end.
You kicked in the water, nose scrunching when the red tide lapped against your chin.
“This isn’t going to attract sharks, is it?”
Because if you were saved from drowning at the hands of a royal militia only to wind up as a fish’s dinner, you would be terribly annoyed.
Your Siren rolled his eyes at you, like you were just the most ridiculous and stupid creature in all of creation. And then he made a languid swipe of his large, fully-healed tail and began to swim away from the literal bloodbath he and his pod had wrought. With you and all your silly, fragile humanness in tow.
It was far too relaxing, being pulled along against his side. The gentle rocking of his tail beneath you as he swam at the surface—always ensuring to keep your head above the water as he did so. You could feel your eyes starting to dip, feel a yawn cracking along your lips. Maybe it was just the adrenaline crash hitting, or maybe it was the relief that you hadn’t even wanted to address. He’d come back. For you.
The earless pirate who never seemed to do much but stumble into one conundrum after another. Who had only annoyed him at best and shorn his fins to shredded, useless bits at worst. Who had thrown shells at his head and only nicked him a little when you cut the ropes from his hide.
Who had made him human foods with fire and taught him your language in a messy scrawl of sand and snark. Who swam with him in the bay and twined a necklace of shining, purple sea glass around his neck. Who braided his hair, and laughed at his pouting, and—
There was a rough roll of surf that splashed in your face and you spluttered against the white froth.
The Siren paused and beat his tail against the deeper waters, propping you upright as you hacked and fretfully patting at your back. You could see his mouth moving as he mumbled something, brow pinched, and stared back at him with your own wobbly frown—confused.
“Why did you come back?” you asked, and the Siren’s brows jumped up into his hairline. He looked startled, genuinely. And that only had you even more befuddled. “And how did you even find me?”
This time when he huffed, there was a subtle sort of irritation there that you’d learn to recognize well.
He was pouting.
Something brushed against your fingers in the water, soft and fleeting. You glanced down just in time to catch a blur of lavender flitting nervously below the choppy waves, never dipping close enough again to touch, but looking hesitant to keep much further either.
The Siren followed your gaze only to narrow his eyes, pointed teeth bared as he swatted at the poor, round, little octopus with his tail. A clear shoo, shoo if you’d ever seen one. The octopus squeaked, sending bubbles spiraling in all directions, and frantically looped out of the way of the mer’s petulant tantrum. You whacked him right back, indignant on your teeny friend’s behalf. Because—!
“You followed me,” you burbled, and the little octopus spun in a fretful circle. If you didn’t know better, you’d say the poor, little dear was wringing its hands. Your Siren bared his teeth and smacked out again. “Hey! Don’t be an ass! He saved me,” you argued, and your bitch of a merman just snapped his fangs in your face like a feral cat.
You gawked.
“No way. You can’t be annoyed that you were beat out by a baby, purple octopus the size of an orange.”
He huffed and turned up his nose, and you burst out into laughter for the first time since you’d watched him swim out of your cove all those days ago.
You laughed and laughed until tears were beading at the corners of your eyes, and your Siren was grumbling in complaint and pinching your sides with his curved claws. There wasn’t real malevolence in that stern glare of his, though—just more of the prickly, teasing sort of snide side eye he’d given you in your latter weeks together. Fondness, you realized. That’s what was softening it all. The same sort of warmth you held for him.
Your favorite, pissy, preening, self-righteous goldfish.
You snorted into his shoulder, still shaking on giggles, and you could feel his sigh against your temple. You burrowed down against his side, feeling his fins brush along your hips as he kept the both of you afloat.
“Thanks,” you said, soft. “For coming back.”
You were expecting another melodramatic sigh, another plaintive roll of the eyes. Instead, his fingers came up to twine with yours and tugged your hand to rest against the pendant at his throat. You blinked, confused, and he just curled your palm around that little, sand-smoothed piece of glass.
You arched a brow. “What does that have to do with anything?”
This time he did roll his eyes at you, and when he spoke he mouthed the word dramatic and wide so he was sure that you could see it.
‘Moron.’
You whined in complaint and smacked his fingers away. “But I’m your moron.”
Another huff, soft against the nape of your neck. And you could see the barest twitch of a smile on his red lips as he turned back into the tide and continued his trek home.
.
.
.
[TAG LIST - CLOSED]
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jpitha ¡ 1 year ago
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Vocal Mimicry and Ear Worms
Every time the drink machine finished, it played a little song.
It was pretty simple, less than 10 notes, but it was the same song, every time.
It wasn't even that it played the same song every time. It wasn't even that everyone on the ship - except the humans - got a drink from the machine.
The song was catchy.
Peg started it. She just found her self whistling the "drink finished" song one day. "beep beepita beep beep beep beepita beeeeeeep." She couldn't help it.
Then, Kelly picked it up. The song worked its way into her head too. She'd be working at her station and suddenly she'd be struck by an intense need to sing the song.
After about three cycles, every single human on the ship was singing it. Normally, this would be chalked up by the rest of the crew as "just another strange Human thing" but the problem was that it was the 'drink finished' song. Everyone onboard was conditioned to want to go get their drink when the song was done.
The humans could mimic is perfectly.
"beep beepita beep beep beep beepita beeeeeeep."
Captain Flowing River Rapid's feathers fluffed in irritation. Two people on the Command Deck got three quarters of the way out of their seats before they realized what they were doing and sat back down, sheepish. "Desmond! What have I said about mimicing the drink finished melody?"
Desmond ducked his head at the reproach. "Sorry Captain River, I couldn't help it. It's just so catchy."
Captain River clacked his beak. "It wouldn't be so bad if not for the fact that you can all mimic the sound so well."
Desmond turned and looked at the Captain. "What? We are? We're singing it, but it doesn't sound exactly like the drink machine."
The Captain pointed at Desmond accusingly. "Don't deny it! You're all singing the song at all times of the cycle! You know that everyone thinks a drink is ready when you do it. You sound exactly like the machine!"
One of the Sefigans who got partially up from their station nods quickly, their antenna bobbing. "Captain River is correct, Des. You all really sound a lot like the drink machine. How are you doing it?"
Desmond shrugged. "I mean, we heard the song, and it gets like, stuck in our heads. Singing it feels like one way to get it out. Plus, it's fun to sing Kel. Fun to make sounds."
Kel's wing covers clack. "Can you mimic other things?"
"I don't know Kel, I don't really think of myself as a mimic. There are others who can do it much better than me. Some humans made a whole career out of it."
"That sounds like a thing I human would do, yes. But what about your Des? Let's see...." Kel looks down at their station. "What about this?"
Kes runs a test for the collision alarm. It's a warbling rising and falling tone."
Des thinks for a second and sings - for him - a pretty close approximation.
Captain River gasps and leans back in his chair. "How do you do that?"
Desmond wails. "It wasn't even that good! I just heard the tones and repeated them."
Kelly entered the Command Deck just then. She was carrying a pad and her overalls looked stained. "Captain River, I've just come to report tha-"
"Kelly! Mimic the collision alarm"
"What? Um.." Kelly makes the same noise."
Now, everyone on the Command Desk gasps. Kelly is taken aback and looks at Desmond. "What's going on Des?"
Desmond sighs. "They say we're all mimics. It started with the drink machine."
"Oh that. I still can't get it out of my head! 'beep beepita beep beep beep beepita beeeeeeep.'"
Kes starts to rise from his seat again and catches himself, and sits back down swearing.
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himezoro ¡ 6 months ago
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your roman empire with the one piece men
that small gesture or word he said that entered your mind and never left.
starring : zoro, luffy and law !!
word count : 889
author's note : again, i'm so sorry for posting so rarely, working and planning a wedding has to be the most exhausting thing ever, i promise to go through all of your requests and to be more present, tysm for your support ♡౨ৎ⋆.˚ some of these scenarios have been inspired by moments i often think about in my life, can you guess which hahaha??
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zoro was smitten with you, and longed taking a step forward in your camaraderie, and everyone with a pair of eyes could see it. so when nami told him he was on errand duty with you and only you today, the swordsman knew it was his shot to get closer to you.
gosh, you were gorgeous walking around the alleys with the wind blowing your hair and diffusing your hypnotizing scent. and there he was, walking by your side like a guard dog with his hands the pockets of his jacket, listening to your enchanting voice.
the errands were nearly coming to an end, and zoro did not dare to "make a move", which he knew he would regret. the alleys got more crowded and he was afraid to lose you, especially since his orientation is not the best, though his senses would always bring him back to you. he knew that.
as zoro listened to you and internally debated on whether he should say something about his feelings or not, his body acted on his own, finally closing the distance.
as he gently grabbed your left hand with his right one, intertwined his fingers with yours, before putting both of his hand and yours in his right pocket, acting like it was the most natural gesture on earth.
and the butterflies in your stomach never died since.
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luffy has always brought joy to your life and fed your desire for adventures and fun. he lit stars to your world and invited you to let go of pressure and have fun, not minding about third parties' opinions. a lot of people would question your couple association because of luffy's exuberance, but all them be damned. the future king of the pirates brought you back to life and no one could make you happier.
a sudden rain came down pouring on the grand line and the wind blew hard. the entire crew started running around to put back inside the furnitures that were left outside. the rain was so much that it started freezing and you started to run to your quarters. yet, as you were about to finally reach your door, a pair of elastic arms grabbed you and brought you back outside under the pouring rain, their owner sporting a huge, bright grin on his face.
"luffy!!! what the hell are you doing? it's raining and we'll catch a cold!!"
"chichichi, i wanted to dance with you, (y/n)!" he beamed, his eyes adoringly pleading yours to allow his antics as he started twirling you around under the pouring rain.
between laughters only him could exulate, you tried to bring him back to his senses.
"but luffy, honey, we can't dance under the rain! it's cold and there's no music playing!"
luffy did not mind your ramblings as he kept on twirling you around, his hand standing on your the small of your back the whole time, his thumb occasionnaly drawing circles. with a determined gaze and his signature smile on his face, he pressed his forehead on yours, the rain drops falling from his nose to your lips from the closeness.
"together, there's nothing that we can't do (y/n). after all, i'm the future king of the pirates!!"
his laughter hugged the atmosphere and made your heart race even more.
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your relationship with law was a secret on the submarine, and it was hard for you to hide your adoration for your boyfriend. after all, what wasn't there to love? law was smart, composed, mature and commited. yet, sometimes, it felt so easy for him to "ignore" your status in front of the crew or anyone for that matter, which tended to hurt your heart. did law appreciate you the way you did? was it unrequited?
little did you know, law had a hard time not paying as much attention as he would when with the others. because he had a lot of work, even when the others were not around, it did not mean the two of you could see each other. therefore, the soft gestures he wished to cover you with were quite lacking. and of course, he was the one to have asked to keep the relationship a secret, and because of his prideful persona, he would not admit it was not a good idea.
you and bepo were getting ready to work around the submarines for your chores of the day. you were busy going around the submarine with your chores tool and bepo, and failed to notice your shoe laces came undone.
and of course, this would not go unnoticed by law. the captain could not stop himself from going to you with a frown, which surprised (and scared) both of you and bepo.
is there anything you did wrong? why was he looking so pissed off?
"idiot. you could trip and injure yourself." your boyfriend sternly spoke, kneeling to the floor to tie your shoe-lace, leaving bepo dumbfounded and yourself out of breath, with a racing heartbeat.
"you know i don't want you to get hurt." he said getting up, his hot breath tickling your cheek in the process, his warm hand resting on yours, silently promising to show his adoration for you like you deserve.
and you swore you could still feel the warmth of his hand from that day again.
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celestial-grls ¡ 4 months ago
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Courtside Crew - Paige Bueckers x fem!reader
summary: you and your daughter Zoe attend Paige's basketball game word count: 1k a/n: was having real bad baby fever and could not stop thinking about Paige as a mom
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"Remember, baby, one at a time." You assisted your toddler with her bag of fruit snacks while trying to keep your eye on the game.
It was the 4th quarter of a game against Chicago, and the Valkyries were struggling with some players in foul trouble. It was loud in the arena, with fans on all sides groaning as the refs called another technical foul. Even though you and Paige have been together since she started playing professionally, you still got nervous about her games.
You and Paige welcomed your daughter Zoe about two and a half years ago, and she gets as excited as Paige does for any basketball-related events. She munched on her fruit snacks, grabbing two or three in her tiny little fists as you nervously tapped your fingers against her leg.
Zoe has successfully attended a handful of games, mainly the home ones, since traveling with a toddler isn't a science either you or Paige have mastered yet. She loved coming to them because it meant seeing her mom in action, running up and down the court, and making baskets. The loud arena erupts in cheers, and every time you cheer, she repeats after you despite not quite knowing all the rules of basketball yet.
There was only another minute and a half left to the game, with the Valkyrie three points behind Chicago. Paige had passed the ball to one of her teammates from the corner of the three-point line. When the ball swished into the basket, it secured enough lead for the Valkyrie to take home the win.
You and Zoe watched with your eyes glued to the court, Zoe's head tucked safely under your chin while she wriggled on your lap to follow where the ball was headed. The opposing team brought the ball up to the basket, ready to make the shot, before it was blocked by one of Paige's teammates. There was only enough time left in the shot clock for the Valkyrie to try and score.
Paige was laser-focused on protecting the ball, dribbling it up the court, and making a pass to one of her teammates. Right as her teammate was ready to release from the paint, they got blocked by a member of the Chicago Sky. She passed the ball to Paige with ten seconds left on the clock.
You could see the gears turning in your wife's head as she stepped back to shoot from the three-point line. You've seen her do it a million times, and it still makes your entire body buzz with excitement. Once the ball bounces against the backboard and falls into the net, you and Zoe shoot up and scream.
"Zoe, baby, did you see that!?" You couldn't contain your excitement as you propped her up against your hip, her hair bouncing as she laughed happily.
The game was complete once the buzzer sounded, with the Valkyrie winning by six points. The entire arena cheered for the team's second straight win. You grabbed your purse and held Zoe's hand as you shuffled through the crowd to find Paige.
"Mommy, you won! You won!" Before you could even put your daughter down properly, she ran straight to Paige on the court, finishing up a quick post-game interview.
Her little sneakers squeak against the floor before Paige picks her up, holds her against her hip, and kisses the fat of her cheek. "Hi, princess! Yes, we did. Where's Mama?"
You were close by, instantly lighting up at the sight of Paige holding your daughter. Paige's cheeks were flushed from playing the entire last quarter, and she was all teeth, alternating between smiling and smacking kisses to your daughter's head.
She excitedly whispers to Zoe when she spots you coming over, "Oh! There she is, Zozo! You see her?"
Zoe whips her head around until she sees you, getting completely sandwiched between you and Paige as you go to hug the both of them.
Paige goes to press a kiss to your lips, the top of Zoe's head tickling your chin. The chaos and excess energy of the game leave Paige when she finally gets to see you and Zoe after all of it. Her relief shows as she asks you, "Did I make my girls proud today?"
"Of course, baby. You always do," you affectionately gush. Paige carries herself with so much confidence no matter what, but parenthood has seriously brought out a different side to her than you ever knew. Watching her play so selflessly because she knows Zoe is watching makes you fall harder for her every game.
Zoe nods in agreement, wraps her arms around Paige's neck, and tells her, "You did good, Mommy!"
Paige smiles at Zoe, ticking her neck as she bounces lightly and tells her, "Thank you, princess. I gotta go do the cameras. Are you gonna be good for Mama?"
In toddler speak, 'do the cameras' meant post-game conferences and press in general. Usually, Paige would go while you and Zoe headed back home and tried to get her to bed at a reasonable hour.
Zoe nods at Paige seriously before asking, "Story tonight?"
Paige replies, "You can count on it, princess." She kisses you goodbye and hands Zoe off to you. As much as Paige loves her job, she can't wait to come home and spend time with you and Zoe. She sends you a text as she walks through the tunnel.
Your phone buzzes with the text that reads: No falling asleep on the couch before I get home
You smile before typing back: Hurry home and you won't have to worry abt it!!
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writingoddess1125 ¡ 1 year ago
Text
The old men of One Piece finding out they have a child with you. Pt. 3
THROWS OUT FRESH MEAT To YOU ALL "SUPPER IS HERE" Buy me a Ko-Fi ;3
Part 4 <- Click Here
Shanks, Buggy, Mihawk xFemreader
Healthy Mix of Angst and Fluff
Buggy
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It had been a week since Buggy had given you the talk about taking a 'Vacation with the boys' aka himself taking time away to help you raise the twins-
At first you didn't expect him to actually stick to it- it was a heavy order for anyone especially a pirate. However you had seen him silently preparing for the time off, piles of paperwork how payouts to his crew, budgeting for the time away and more.
It filled your heart in ways you never expected. Feeling joyful at him being so willing to do this for you and the twins. Speaking of the twins, they had been extra rambunctious it seemed. Clearly having enjoyed Buggy's time and attention too much and now that he was working that ment that the crew was at the twins mercy-
You never thought you'd see the day that the crew would miss Buggy's presents especially against two pre-teen boys.
"Miss (Y/N) can you please- Please Take the children" Cabaji said, His eyes sunken in and tired as he held Dee in one Arm and Bee in another. It seemed both had gotten into a fight again and Cabaji was in the middle.
"Of course" You giggle and thank the poor man, Taking your twins in your arms and bring them inside. Scolding both for being brats and getting them washed and fed for the night.
That night a storm rolled in. Rocking the Big Top and its crew inside, You sat there brushing out your boys hair in the Captian's quarters where you lived. The storm had set in thick, rocking the ship and pelting the crew with hail and icy rain. Buggy out on the main deck at the wheel as he yelled over the storm.
"Mom- I don't like the storms..." Dee whispered. Leaning against you as the ship rocked once again- Bee didn't say anything but his body language saying the same.
"I know sweety, but it's part of-"
"ENEMY SHIP ENEMY SHIP! ALL HANDS ON DECK!!" The announcement started from the speakers, you rising to your feet quickly as you heard the battle started.
"Boys you stay here and hide, Understand me?" You order, the twins nod quickly and do as said and hide under the bed. You grab a sword quickly and rush out the room, Locking it behind you with the key Buggy had given you.
You hold the sword as you see the first face of the enemy pirates rush down to the Lower Deck, Slicing through them with ease and continued up to the Main Deck Locking the door of the Lower Deck and rushing forward as more pirates approached you, You quickly defended yourself as you tried to stay close to the main doors. The rain pelting your skin and making it hard to see, A larger man approached with a axe. Swinging down he almost struck you as you slipped and managed to move away just in time.
"(Y/N)!!!"
Buggy yelled as he released his arms launching blades into the man's chest and knocking him back. As his arms returned to him a massive wave hit- Sending ocean water over the main deck, you saw this as the crash swept Buggy from the wheel. Running forward you grabbed Buggy sleeve and pulled him before he could be claimed by the rough waters, holding the wheel to keep from slipping.
Once the ship started to lean you pulled Buggy closer. Feeling his cough and regain his breath against you before climbing back up to the wheel to steady the rocking ship.
You saw the other shop fire more canons but the waves making them miss and fall short of the ship- The crew of the rival pirates starting to creak and splinter as the waves crashed against it.
"Retreat!!" A call of a rival pirate yelled, the temaing of their men trying to flee to the ship as the waves hit it. As the Ropes connecting the ships ripped Buggy turned hard, The backside of the ship smacking its offender as he tried to ride down the waves to clearer waters. Another massive wave came up and knocked the ship to its side, The Big Top groaning at the hit as it rode down the mountain of waves desperately.
You looked back to see the other ship heading into the opposite direction, the waves swallowing it from your perspective.
It was another 30 minutes before the storm softened enough to not be in danger. The crew both exhausted from the battle and storm it seemed, bodies of friend and foe being tossed overboard as the spinkle of rain washed the blood.
"You did good (Y/N).. Thank you" Buggy said softly, looking to you from the wheel of the ship. He looked rough- Soskes to the bone with his makeup running down his face.
"Of course" You said softly and giving him a equally tired smile.
"Captian! They got into the lower deck while the fight was happening!" Cabaji yelled out- Taking note of the damage that had been done. Your blood ran cold- Rushing from Buggy's side you ran down the stairs to the lower level, looking and seeing blood of a few fallen crewmates in the hall. Rushing to the Captian's quarters were you saw the splintered wood of the broken door, tears running down your cheeks as you felt your heart actually break. You frantically looked around- Sword still in hand as you stood in the room, it was destroyed. Blade slices through the pillows, furniture turned over.
"No- No No NO!" You screamed loudly, the reality hitting your chest making you scream out a sob.
Buggy rushed downstairs, seeing the splintered door and you sitting on the destroyed bedroom floor sobbing loudly. He ran to your side as his eyes frantically searching the envirment with the same fear as you.
"They are gone!" You sobbed, Buggy face turning to stone as he stood up- Tossing around the broken furniture and items in the room desperate to find evidence of them.
"FUCK!" He roared, anger filling his soul. He turned to your sobbing form and grabbed you by your shoulders- He looked like he wanted to scream at you but instead pulled you to his chest.
"We'll find them- There isn't any blood so they are alive" He said, it sounded like he was speaking more to himself then you.
"We'll Find them"
Shanks
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It seemed Shanks had not been in Times good Graces. Not at all- What had expected to be a 6 month long Mission had been extended- drastically.
7 Years- 7 Years has Shanks been out to sea. From being turned into a Emperor of a sea, seeing the future of pirating and the slow steady crumble of the Goverment. Shanks had been stuck- but that didn't matter.. It was over at least for now-
Shanks felt his heart jumping as he saw the coast of the small village.
You stare at him shocked, before your face fell in a mixture of anger, sadness and some relief.
"You're back..." Was all you could mutter, Shanks surprised by your coldness. Awkwardly shifting on his feet.
"Well yeah! Of course I am! I came here to see You and Vivian" He said enthusiastically, you winced at his words and sighed.
Shanks feeling off about your attitude towards him- You gestured for him to follow you which he obediently did. Sitting at the dining room table
"Shanks I'm going to be honest with you- Vivian is not going to be very welcoming to you"
Shanks felt like you had just dumped cold water on him at saying this.
"What? No of course she will! I know it's been a while but I love her (Y/N) and she was my little gir-"
"For a few weeks... but that was years ago.. when she was 4 years old- Shes 11 and sees you as the dad that just packed up and left-" You said bluntly which made him bristle at the harsh words.
Shanks was ready to start in to argue till he heard the door open.
"Mom I'm home!" The sweetest voice he had ever heard called out to him. His eyes widened at this standing from his seat as he watched Vi make a appearance. In her school clothes still she had her hair in a ponytail and looked a bit scrapped up like she had been playing outside.
"Vivian" Shanks said softly, She turned her gaze to him and froze. Looking him up and down at first in shock- before her face scrunched up in a angry scowl. Adjusting her backpack she walked upstairs ignoring Shanks open arms as he stood there frozen in place.
"What the hell was that!?" He cried in shock as he turned back to you, you shrugged.
"I told you-"
Shanks stared at you in shock st this, before dashing out the back door in lightning speed. After 30 minutes he returned with a armful of gifts and marched upstairs to drop them off at her door. You knowing this wasn't going to fair well and offered him the guest room just like before.
Shanks had bought every gift he could think of- Every toy, outfit and more. All were refused and left back on his guest bed, The most he received was a cold glare from Vivian before she left the house for school or to do something away from home.
It had been 3 weeks already of Vivian giving him the cold shoulder or just being angry at him- He sat at your dining room table staring at the glass of rum he had barely sipped. Watching the liquid just float.
"When did she start hating me?..." He muttered, Hearing you chopping vegetables for dinner. You paused for a brief moment and sighed
"3 years after you left..." You admit, sliding the cut up carrot into the pot. Shanks laid his head on the table and watched you quietly, Clearly wanting you to continue.
"She waited for you. Everyday for those three years sitting on the docks... watching the horizon for you to return- and you never did... I guess finally her spirit broke and she resented you" Shanks winced at your words and rotated his face towards the wood.
He was silent for a while, before shifting up to his feet. Trying to Shank off the coming depression.
"I'll be back" He said softly, dismissing himself. His mind was racing with everything he could do, what he should have down and more. Sighing heavily as he walked towards the main town, but the sound of children caught his ear.
Following the sound he turned a corner to see a group of kids- at first he assumed they were playing till he saw a hair for a red hair and a busted up face. There stood Vivian, Her lip busted and eye starting to swell as she tried to scrap back against 4 other kids at once.
"Your Mom's a pirate whore!" A purple haired boy shouted as he pushed Vivian again, Her back hitting a trees but she stood once more.
"Don't talk about my Mom!" She screamed before punching the boy in the nose, He yelled out in pain as the other 3 kids began to jump her once more.
But before contact could be made all three were hiked up in the air by the back of their clothes. A awful feeling washing through them as this heavy pressure began to weigh on them-
Vivian looked up, seeing the ringleader standing to the side looked terrified as his 3 lackys were held up-
He looked like a demon to them all, his eyes practically glowing as he glared at the four children.
"4 little shits- wanting to jump my little girl- So ill say this now... You all better Fuck Off" The kids instantly began to cry, rhe ringleader wetting his pants and running away from the group. Shanks dropped the three and watched them scramble and run away as well. Vivian sitting on the ground still staring up at her father in awe, before trying to snap back to her irritation from before- Shanks reaching down and helping her up. But she refused him and stood on her own- Shanks sighed at this.
"Vivian- I know you want to keep ignoring me. But we need to talk" He said calmly, finally putting his foot down it seemed.
"Vi-" He said calmly as he grabbed her arm quickly before she could leave. She tried to pull his hands off angrily, Angry tears already welling up in her eyes.
"There is nothing to talk about!" She protested but Shanks didn't release his grip.
"You're mad at me I was gone so l-" She glared up at him, now tears filling her gaze and spill from her cheeks.
"I'm mad you left me!! I finally got a dad and you left me! You didn't want me anymore so you forgot about me!!" She screamed up at him, Shanks gently releasing his hand from her as he watched her.
Shanks slowly moved his cloak to the side revealing his blade, carefully with one hand undoing the tattered green ribbon and holding it out to Vivian. Her eyes widening at seeing it, and how despite the years he had held on to the old thing.
"...I never forgot you.. And I swear I never wanted to leave you Baby girl..."
"But you did!" She sobbed, fat tears rolling down her cheek. He nodded, tears running down his own cheeks reached around her neck and pulling up a chain. It was the Coin of his Jolly Roger- hung around her neck this whole time. She crutched it in her fist angrily.
"I didn't want them to find you... to hurt you or your mother- S-So this was the best to protect you" He admitted through broken cries. Vivian stared at him Biting her lip in what was assumed in anger before she left forward and wrapped her arms around him.
Shanks sobbed in what could only be described as relief and fell to his knees. Wrapping his arm around her quickly, kissing the top of her head and face.
"I missed you so much- I thought of you everyday" He sobbed, holding his daughter close as she sobbed against him.
"Don't leave me again Dad... Please" She managed to choke out inbetween cries. Shanks nodding at her words as he held her tighter.
"I will never do it again... ever"
Mihawk
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Mihawk had seemed to at least temporarily take residence in your tiny home for the past month. Having taken the couch to rest at night but spent quite a bit of time with both you and Alucare- you had grown uses to Mihawk presents in your home. It reminding you of a sort of family even if you and Mihawk weren't together.
You felt Mihawk gaze on you as you moved around the kitchen, he seemed to enjoy watching you. More precisely your hips- You felt warmth hit your cheeks as you continued to make breakfast. You open up the cabinets to grab the plates, which were a bit too high up for you. You jumped once but before you could do much else you felt a hand land on the small of your back and a presents behind you. Glancing up you see Mihawk grabbing the plates for you, you blush and accept the plates as he hands to you.
"Thank you Mihawk"
"No need to thank me (Y/N)" He said softly, a hint of a smile on his lips as he met your gaze. As you opened your mouth to say something sjddently a butterknife flew through the air and stuck in the wood 3 inches from Mihawk's face making both of you jump in surprise and you squeak out a hushed scream. Turning to see Alucare, still in his sleeping clothes hair a mess and sleep in his gaze staring at you two.
"Oops My hand slipped-"
You sighed at your son and place your hand on your hips walking towards him.
"We both know damn well that was no accident Alucare!" You scolded your son who stood there calming taking it, His eyes locked onto Mihawk who glared at the boy with vengeance.
After 30 minutes of being scolded you ordered Aluecare to get ready for the day as you finished breakfast. Mihawk instead going out to the grove of trees were he knew Alucare would come to train before heading to school- On cue Alucare made an appearance and smirked at the clearly grumpy man sharpening his sword.
"Blue Balls?-" Alucare chimed, earning another frightful glare from the Warlord.
"So you are doing it on purpose-" Mihawk grumbled, continuing to sharpen the blade and stare at his spawn.
"Doing what?" the teen chimed crossing his arms with a continued stoic face.
"She was a date of mine long before she was your mother-" Mihawk brought up, pointing a finger in the direction of the house were you where.
"Ah yes Im sure that alleyway is a great dating spot" He deadpanned which made Mihawk close his mouth in a firm line. Standing up and putting his sword away.
"If you keep this up lad- you will not like me"
"I barely tolerate you now-" Alucare said with a raised eyebrow and scoffed as Mihawk smirked at him. Standing up with a nod.
"I'm warning you now boy- My only warning" He said before dismissing himself back inside.
Alucare left for school then, still with Mihawks words in mind.
That day Mihawk accompanied you with your daily errands. Getting groceries, clothes and more. You and him talk throughout the day, Blushing at his flirtatious manner for the day.
Once returned back home Mihawk had his hand on your hip as you served him wine. A pink color to your cheeks as you felt his hand upon you.
"You look really lovely (Y/N)... I'm am pleased i-" He was cut off by a loud cough, turning to see Alucare there with his face wrinkled in absolute disgust.
Mihawk narrowed his eyes at Alucare who had just interrupted him-
"Aren't you suppose to be in school?" He started as he stared at the living clone of him. Watching Alucare cross his arms and swagger to the side. You looked to the side embrassed by being caught like this, dismissing yourself quickly upstairs.
"I finished early- Just like you" Alucare said with a sarcastic smirk clearly teasing him, The Warlord glaring at his own spawn for the quip at him.
"....Did your mother teach you this level of disrespect?-" Mihawk started, as he stood up from his seat.
"Call it an inherited skill" He said calmly, watching the Warlord walk to him and stand before him. Silence falling between the two before Mihawk dismissed himself to the livingroom.
The game was set it seemed.
Alucare kept his guard up for days afterwards, seeing how calm Mihawk had been since he had cockblocked him once again. Being incredibly respectful to you and damn near kind to Alucare, at first he had been incredibly suspicious however after day 4 he had grown used to it.. That was his mistake.
You had been cleaning up something in the livinroom, you had noticed Mihawks attitude had cooled with you quite a bit. Worried you may have offended him in some way however you choose not to dwell on such things.
As you cleaned you felt a presents come behind you- it didn't take a genius to guess who. Turning to see Mihawk, seemingly fresh from the shower as he was simply in trousers and warm from the water. You blushed and turned away once more, feeling his hands on the small of your back first.
"(Y/N).." He started, his other hand finding yours as he moved the two of you in a gently sway with your back against his chest. Your resolve utterly breaking at this point.
"I feel like, I've neglected you in some way" He says softly, his lips drifting down your neck as you. You feeling weak to the knees as he did this, his fingers finding their way to your waist pulling you closer.
It was an hour before Alucare returned home, bag slung over his shoulder as walking into his home, about to call out like he normally did till be saw it-
There laid you and Mihawk clearly naked under some of the thinnest goddammit blankets in the house on the livingroom couch.
"AH FUCKING HELL!"
You heard a yell and sat up from the couch with the blanket pulled up to your bust. Seeing Alucare with a look of what can only be described as pure horror on what he was seeing his parents like this-
"O-Oh gods honey! What are you doing back so early!" You scramble red in the face as Mihawk lays there under the blankets, looking right at his son with a low smirk.
"You prick!" Alucare yelled at his father as he walked out again, wishing to burn his eyes out from what he saw. Hearing the low chuckle from his father behind him and you frantically scolding Mihawk.
He had won-
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eightmakesonebraincell ¡ 9 months ago
Text
ateez as pirates who fall for you (hyung line)
read maknae line here
genre: pirate!ateez x gn!reader (fem!reader for hongjoong), fluff, angst, crack, and as always - a brainrot of every pirate trope to exist
length: 10.4k
c/w: heavy and mature themes - mdni, explicit language (swearing, insults), death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, illegal acts (piracy, ransoming, verbal abuse, abduction), alcohol, pet names
a/n: maknae line will come yes but who knows when 🤷‍♀️ work has been really testing my dopamine vibes this year 😔👎 thank you @sorryimananti-romantic for keeping a detailed hitlist for me ♡
hongjoong
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pov: you're a royal princess rescued by him
“captain, are you sure we can’t toss her overboard?”
jongho and hongjoong watch as wooyoung’s face falls after you pointedly ignore his attempts to make conversation once again
for someone who is technically their guest aboard the arriba, it seems as though you are hellbent on being as difficult as you can be
“unfortunately, we can’t,” hongjoong grouches to the younger, “not unless we want to exchange our payment for a hefty bounty on our own heads”
when jongho sighs, the captain squeezes his shoulder in comfort and adds on, “trust me, i’ve thought about it too”
hongjoong and his crew are privateers - pirates in theory, but technically excused so long as they have their letter of marque to state that they are authorised to attack other vessels
rescuing a royal princess was never explicitly part of the contract, although he thinks that not rescuing you would have pretty much been equivalent to a blatant show of insubordination
you had been taken ransom by one of the merchant ships the arriba had been plundering
needless to say, they had been close to tossing you overboard too; your kingdom had never paid for your ransom
the lack of response from your parents wasn’t anything you weren’t expecting but it’s a sore spot nonetheless
so it’s certainly hard for you to play friendly when you’re quite literally shucked off from stranger to stranger faster than a hot potato
san tugs wooyoung closer towards him and gently says to you, “he’s just trying to be nice - we all are”
the movement doesn’t go unnoticed by you
“i don’t need your pity,” you answer, the only sentence you have spoken today
you’ve lived two decades of your life pretending you don’t see the pitying gazes of your maids and butlers
you certainly don’t need pity from these people - pirates no less
“it’s not-” wooyoung starts to say
but the captain steps in before he can defend himself
“if this is how you’re always acting, i’m starting to see why your kingdom never paid for your ransom”
had hongjoong been less preoccupied by your words, he would have realised that your tone is candid, as if it is only natural for the people around you to pity you
but he’s clouded with his mindset as captain, unable to stand by idly while his own crew put up with your attitude, and so the words come out anyway - shards of shrapnel that bury themselves into your heart
there is only a fleeting second when your eyes dilate with hurt
you conceal it immediately, replacing it with a steely gaze, yet the image has already seared itself into hongjoong’s mind
“maybe you should throw me overboard, then,” you counter, “i’m sure my family will thank you for it”
and even if you have completely neutralised your expression, no one misses the wounded tone of your voice before you disappear down into the lower deck
mingi lets out a low whistle after the resounding slam of the hatch closing
“you fucked up, captain”
hongjoong doesn’t need anyone to spell it out for him
the heavy feeling in his stomach is telling enough
it isn’t until the moon has long since risen that you emerge through the hatch again
you had bypassed the sleeping quarters to the hold, wedging yourself between barrels of grain until you were sure no one would find you
not that they would have tried to anyway - seonghwa had told them all to give you some space
you had run your finger up and down the sides of the barrels repetitively for hours on end, mind simultaneously void and filled with thoughts
the walls you had built around yourself kept you safe, but it had started to become awfully lonely after a while
when it had become a little too suffocating in the hold and you guessed that most of the crew was asleep, you had softly padded back up the stairs and across the main deck
you now sit on the foredeck where the endless expanse of the sea stretches out in front of you, closing your eyes and letting the swaying of the ship lull you into tranquillity
tonight, the moon winks down fondly upon the waters
hongjoong watches you from the quarterdeck
he’s seen you sit at the front of the ship on many nights when you should really have been asleep
he wonders if you’ve always looked so small and fragile with your knees drawn up to your chest, or whether it’s because the flash of hurt in your eyes and voice is still fresh in his mind
“go, captain,” yunho murmurs from where he’s at the helm, “it’s a quiet night”
hongjoong startles at having been caught gazing, clearing his throat and dragging his eyes away
“why should i, if she’s just going to ignore me?” he scoffs
but he knows he’s just being petty at this point and his chest churns in agreement
“maybe,” yunho hums softly in response. “did seonghwa ever give up on you, though?”
it’s rhetorical - hongjoong knows the answer better than anyone
the captain doesn’t say anything but after several beats of silence, he sighs and makes a move to the foredeck where you are
yunho smiles to himself
you and hongjoong may be more similar than his captain realises
your shoulders stiffen when the sound of hongjoong’s footsteps approaches
you’re not sure what to expect and you don’t exactly want to find out and risk getting hurt
but having spent all day swimming alone in your thoughts, you do want to show that you feel apologetic because admittedly, you were being an ass too
getting up to walk away when he’s taken the first step certainly won’t help your case
you hold your breath in awkward silence as he settles down beside you, leaving a respectable distance between your hunched figures
only now is hongjoong realising that he hasn’t actually thought about or decided on what he wants to say to you
but he can feel the confusion rolling off of you in waves, so he grits his teeth and says fuck it
“i won’t apologise for defending my crew, but i’m sorry for how i did it and for what i said”
he hopes you know he is sincere when he continues, “we all have our prickly edges. i can’t fault you for yours”
compassion is a foreign concept to you and so you’re a little stumped for words
hongjoong isn’t sure whether your silence is a good or bad thing, but you have yet to stand up and walk away from the conversation
“there’s only about a week left until we reach port and we’ll leave after you make it back to your kingdom and we receive our payment. i’m not asking for you to be friendly, but let’s at least be civil with each other until then,” he says
you want to nod, agree, anything
and yet you can’t seem to make your head move or the words to come out of your mouth
rome was not built in a day. but neither did its walls fall in a day
hongjoong doesn’t push for an answer when instead, you ask, “how many people have you actually tossed overboard before?”
he resists the urge to laugh at your question, suddenly endeared by the fact that you’re still bothered by his very empty threat
“none, but my offer still stands. you’re welcome to be my first,” he deadpans
you let out a snort and although you quickly turn your head away, hongjoong sees the hint of amusement in your eyes
no further words are exchanged between the two of you and you do not acknowledge him when he eventually stands to rejoin yunho at the helm
but it’s a start
and as with any relationship, be it friend, foe, or lover, there is always that
a beginning.
hongjoong isn’t really expecting much to change immediately so he doesn’t pay you much mind when you walk into the mess hall the following morning
you hesitate at the entrance when you see most of the crew are already present, the conversation you had with hongjoong last night replaying at the forefront of your mind
you chew on the inside of your mouth
wooyoung stops mid-conversation at the scrape of a plate on the table, looking up to find you sliding into the seat beside him with a tight-lipped smile
to your surprise, he greets you with enthusiasm and immediately drags you into the conversation
hongjoong watches as you slowly warm up and add one or two comments of your own in between bites of your hardtack
and when he catches your gaze after staring for too long, he gives you a smile to convey his appreciation; to acknowledge your efforts
you return it with a small smile of your own and unbeknownst to you, it stays on your face for the rest of the day
slowly, there become more and more reasons that elicit a smile out of you
you still sit out on the foredeck when everyone else has gone to sleep, but on most nights, hongjoong will join you even if just for a while
the two of you are content to sit side by side with nothing but the steady pulse of the ocean and intermittent creaks of the ship’s hull to break the silence of the night
tonight though, you find curiosity burning through you
“what’s it like?” you ask
“being a pirate?” he clarifies
you shrug vaguely, unsure yourself either, “being a pirate. being at sea. sailing with your crew”
he takes a moment to gather his thoughts - not because he doesn’t know what to say, but because there is too much he wants to say
when hongjoong answers, his voice rumbles softly from within his chest, tender and heartfelt
“there’s a sense of freedom that you can’t obtain when you’re bound to land and society. sailing the waters, the only limits are those of the open seas and of your own compass… the sunrises, the storms, the moonlight - it all becomes part of your home”
hongjoong leans back to rest on the palms of his hands, tilting his gaze up towards the twinkling sky
he reflects, “you experience brotherhood and gain a family that is worth multitudes more than the treasures you can accumulate, even if you were to live as a pirate for several lifetimes”
you’re enraptured by his words, like poetry that swirls off the pages of a book and drifts into your very soul
“i may be the captain of this crew, but they make me who i am. without them, i am nothing”
his words wash over you and unearth vivid memories
“that’s what the queen always says to me,” you reveal
a small smile starts to grace hongjoong’s face, but it falls just as quickly when he hears your next words
“that without her - without her title - i am nothing”
it’s funny, how the same phrase can hold such different meanings; can evoke such different emotions
you don’t elaborate any further, but hongjoong doesn’t think he needs you to in order for him to understand
he just wishes he had more time to show you that your mother is wrong
he can’t though
tomorrow they reach port and you will return to your rightful place in the palace
“tell me more about your crew,” you attempt to change the topic, “how did you all find each other?”
so hongjoong tells you
he talks for hours and hours and you listen all the while with a heavy heart, clinging onto his every word
on your final night, you two stay like that until the stars disappear and the horizon becomes streaked with the pale hues of sunrise
after the ship docks mere hours later, only hongjoong accompanies you to your kingdom after goodbyes are exchanged
wooyoung doesn’t take it well, and you find yourself holding back tears of your own as you are let through the palace doors with the captain by your side
but you blink them away when you approach the throne room because vulnerability is not an emotion you are willing to display
“y/n”
the queen addresses you curtly when you enter, and hongjoong wonders for a split second whether he has brought you back to the wrong kingdom
he knows your mother does not treat you fondly, but it’s still staggering to see it before his very own eyes
the monarch glances distastefully over him before her eyes flicker back to you
“i did not expect your return,” she states
your eyes remain impassive as you merely answer, “neither am i delighted to be back”
hongjoong recognises this look
he’s seen it when you first boarded his ship; he’s seen it when your hackles were raised
he’s seen it in himself, when he had been a teenager filled with nothing but growing resentment, before he had met seonghwa
your mother sneers, “then you should have made yourself useful and stayed with the pirates. as a whore or a dog, whatever it took.”
hongjoong has understood you since learning of your demons, but right now, he is you
he sees fifteen-year-old kim hongjoong, standing before a couple who are his parents only by title
he sees fifteen-year-old kim hongjoong, who doesn’t know what he has done that deems him undeserving of love
he sees fifteen-year-old kim hongjoong, all alone with no one to take his hand
“or really, you should have died on the ship”
hongjoong is close enough to you to hear the small hitch in your breath at your mother’s final jab
he may not have had someone to save his younger self, but he can do that now
he can be the person he so desperately needed years ago
and so he does just that.
hongjoong grabs your hand and drags you out of the palace
no one stops the two of you from leaving and he is unsure whether his heart hurts for you or sings with relief
you can only stutter in shock as you try to keep up, “hongjoong, what about your payment?”
his determined steps do not slow down, even as he looks back at you with a sure smile, “i told you before. some things are worth more than money”
the comforting squeeze of his hand conveys that you are worth more than any amount of money
the form of the arriba grows bigger in the distance and you think you can see the movement of excitement on deck when the crew spots your figures
hongjoong has slowed down his steps, but he has yet to let go of your hand
“and you deserve to know that. welcome to the crew, y/n”
to a family and love that you never had
you think you like the sound of that
“thank you, captain”
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seonghwa
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pov: you're a royal navy officer in disguise
you lay awake in your hammock, listening to the soft snores of the crew members around you
sleep doesn’t come easy to you anymore
particularly tonight
you contemplate whether it’s worth the risk to simply not show up
you know what the consequences are if they capture you - a slow and painful death - but you’re unsure whether you want to put ateez on the line too
your ship is currently docked for the night, having made a port stop at alcarres following one of the crew’s wishes to retire the pirate lifestyle and settle in the small town
their last night with ateez had been celebrated with sloshing rum and rowdy jigs, something you had found strange
there’s none of that in the royal navy
when one leaves, it is shameful and through one of three options only; old age, crippling injury, or…death
you had asked seonghwa, the quartermaster, why he and the captain were so accepting when crew members left as they wished
he had simply smiled and answered, “better a small but loyal crew than a large and unpredictable crew”
his words are like a sharp stone in your shoe as you finally slip out of your hammock and make your way off the ship
as ordered, you head to the tavern addressed
you salute the person in front of you and ease into your seat with a formality only when he disregards you
“admiral jang”
“you’re late,” the royal navy officer raises an eyebrow
“sorry, sir. i had to make sure everyone was asleep”
it’s not exactly the truth, but no one needs to know that you had spent an hour in your hammock questioning your morality
he ignores your excuse, jesting as he asks of your captain, “has the pirate king found the chart’s whereabouts yet?”
the charts
centuries ago, a crew of experienced sailors had travelled the six great seas and created the original navigational charts
the charts had become scattered and lost over time, but its value only increased exponentially as more and more sailors became victims to the sea trying to map its waters to the same detail and accuracy as the original charts
of the six originals, only the whereabouts of five are known, with most of them within the possession of the royal navy
it’s rumoured that hongjoong - the pirate king - has his hands on two of them and is currently tracking down the lost chart of the aurorian sea
the only sea that has yet to be chartered after its original map due to its dangerous and unpredictable sailing conditions
you know that your next words can hold an inexplicable amount of possibilities
“not yet. the last lead didn’t get him anywhere. turned out the last of the ahn clan had passed a decade ago”
his lips flatten at the lack of worthwhile information
“where’s the captain headed to next, then?” he probes
for a split second, the thought of lying crosses your mind
you can’t provide a different location - it would be much too obvious and would raise immediate suspicions
but you could give him a different time frame
after all, it’s not uncommon for navigational routes to be one to two weeks off should the waters be unpredictable enough
you find the truth spilling out of you anyway once you’re looking into his stone-cold eyes
“vlasgar. in about three weeks’ time”
for a moment, time stands still as your heart pounds and you attempt to slow your breathing, the officer staring back at you calculatingly
then he finally hums in satisfaction
you think that he is going to dismiss you, but as you make a move to leave, he leans back in his seat
the split second of hesitation was enough
“remember where your loyalty lies, y/n”
the air feels cold with the underlying threat
seonghwa’s words flit through your mind
better a small but loyal crew than a large and unpredictable crew
you swallow, “of course, admiral”
and then you’re dismissed with a nod
the unsettling feeling follows you all the way back to the ship and every miniscule creak of the floorboards underneath you seems to be amplified in the silence
you let out a short gasp of surprise when you’re about to climb back into your hammock, only to see seonghwa blinking blearily at you
“couldn’t sleep ‘gain?” he mumbles
you choke out a response, “yeah”
“i’ll make you tea b’fore you sleep ‘morrow,” his words slur with sleepiness
“okay,” you whisper
but you know it won’t make a difference
after all, there’s no remedy for guilt
it continues to fester the next day, as you linger outside the captain’s quarters
you can’t remember why you had come down to the lower deck, but it doesn’t matter now, not with seonghwa and the captain discussing what you think is related to the aurorian chart
“do you think he’s still in vlasgar?”
“min taesoo? it’s hard to say. but i’m sure he’ll have acquaintances still on the island who may have an idea of where he’s gone”
min taesoo
your brain tries to carefully file the name away, knowing that it’s what admiral jang would want to know, but at the same time, your heart tries to pretend it doesn’t know what you have heard so that you can forget about it
you find yourself scratching the name onto a scrap of paper anyway
unbeknownst to you, at the almost-imperceivable sound of your footsteps walking away, the two men behind the doors share a look
the crew sets sail again in the afternoon towards the next destination - vlasgar - and the scrap of paper in your pocket weighs you down so heavily that you feel off-kilter as you absentmindedly follow jongho up into the rigging to unfurl the sails
you’re near the top of the ropes when a sudden wave lurches the boat to starboard
it’s only a small push, really, but with your mind elsewhere, it catches you off guard and you miss your next step
the feeling of your hand dislodging from the sudden drag of your body weight brings you back to the present with a yell of surprise
(whether it’s your own or jongho’s, you can’t remember)
your sailing experience takes over and you try to swing your body back towards the safety of the rigging
you barely manage to grasp the ropes again but your hands slip down with your weight until they hit the next knot, the hot rush of friction threatening your grip
with adrenaline rushing through your body, you shakily climb back down, where there are several pairs of hands waiting to help you down the rest of the rigging
seonghwa’s hands do not leave you even after your feet are planted on the deck again
dread and shame heat the back of your neck and curl around onto your cheeks, knowing that a mistake like the one you had just made - accidental or not - would lead to a punishment like confinement in the lower deck back in the royal navy
except, when an apology starts to form on your lips, seonghwa bursts out in dismay
“y/n, your hands!”
you let out an unintelligible noise as seonghwa gently turns your palms over and you realise that the ropes have grazed some of the skin off
“it’s fine,” you want to say
but you’re silenced when he leads you to the small sick bay on the orlop deck
even if there is no surgeon on board, there is a small chest fastened to the wall that is home to their few and valuable medical supplies
you sit as he fusses over you with alcohol and strips of cloth
although he does a good job of wrapping your hands, your insides start to bleed with how intensely guilt eats away at you, like a maggot deep inside the core of a festering apple
that night as you shuffle towards your hammock to sleep, you flinch when you find seonghwa already sitting in his
he’s fighting the heaviness in his eyes as he carefully cradles something
upon seeing you, he wordlessly hands it to you with a sleepy smile before he finally sags into his own hammock with a content sigh
you look down and the warmth of it seems to burn through the padded dressing that the man before you has tenderly wrapped around your palms
the sensation travels upwards to burn your heart too
because in your hands is a cup of warm chamomile tea
and yet, despite the emptied cup, you find yourself unable to fall asleep
but in the darkness of the sky, with no witnesses other than the waves and sea foam themselves, a small piece of crumpled paper gets tossed overboard that night
the closer their ship approaches vlasgar, the more distant seonghwa notices you become
he worries
seonghwa thinks he worries for the reasons that he should be
he is the quartermaster; entrusted to protect the crew as the captain’s right-hand man
if that means ensuring no one will compromise the rest of his crew, even if it’s you, then so be it
that’s what he justifies to himself as he walks through the cobbled streets of vlasgar, slinking through the shadows as he follows your figure from a safe distance
(in reality, seonghwa worries for the reasons that he is not quite ready to admit yet)
he follows you into the dim bar of a tavern and carefully situates himself where he can watch over you without being discovered
he orders a mug of common ale as you approach someone
the man is dressed in civilian attire, but seonghwa can tell straight away from his demeanour and expression that he is not as ordinary as he appears
it’s confirmed when he hears you say, “admiral jang”
and then he sees it
the small but striking lapel pin on the breast of the man’s coat - the royal navy’s insignia
seonghwa feels for the sash that’s hidden underneath his own jacket and his fingertips meet the cool metal of the pistol tied inside
“you better have updates for me, y/n. what’s the pirate king’s purpose here in vlasgar?”
seonghwa knows he only has about five seconds to make a decision - one that could jeopardise the crew, or one that could jeopardise you
but you surprise yourself and the both of them when you answer steadfastly, “i don’t know, sir”
despite the din of drunker patrons in the tavern, it seems to fall deathly silent
“am i hearing wrong, officer?” the admiral questions with a disbelieving scoff
to your credit, your voice does not waver when you state again, “no, sir. i believe the captain and quartermaster are lying low. they have not revealed anything to me nor the rest of the crew”
seonghwa suddenly understands why you have distanced yourself
the admiral’s jaw tics
“is that so.”
you do not respond, only focusing on the spot between his raised eyebrows as he leans forward across the table
“where does your loyalty lie, y/n?”
neither the admiral nor seonghwa need to hear your answer to know the truth
a small crew may be outnumbered, but they have strength in loyalty and devotion
there’s a glint of movement from underneath the table as the admiral inches something out from his belt
seonghwa makes his decision
you flinch, eyes wide as there’s a deafening gunshot and the table beside you splinters and scatters the tankards of alcohol onto the floor
instantaneously, chaos erupts
there are drunken yells of fright and weapons clumsily brandished, tables upturned and chairs hurled across the room
it only takes one other misfired shot for the tavern to descend into hellfire as customers who were previously drinking together now turn on one another
nobody notices the two pirates dashing out, not even admiral jang, who is busy wrangling two inebriated men off his arms
your composure dissolves the moment you are dragged into an alleyway several streets away and you look up in shock to discover-
“seonghwa?! why are you here?”
“i could say the same about you,” he counters, hardly out of breath
you’re stunned by the fact that he seems completely unfazed by the mess that he has just dragged you out of
something clicks
“was that you? did you know all along?”
seonghwa smiles, “let’s just say you’re not as subtle as you think you are when you sneak around. plus, it’s uncommon for sailors to have the experience that you do without having had some sort of training”
you curse under your breath and wince, “does hongjoong know too?”
the quartermaster nods and you fear the answer to your next question
“then why has he not…why have you not…”
“killed you yet?” seonghwa chuckles. “i’m sure you’ve realised by now how skewed the royal navy’s beliefs are”
you’re quiet
the royal navy has always been cult-like in preaching the ruthlessness and barbarism of pirates, drilling into the officers the belief that pirates are the scum of the sea
but everything that you’ve known has been proven false since you’ve joined ateez; ironically, the pirates are more humane than the royal navy themself
their crew stand at attention whenever hongjoong or seonghwa walk onto the deck - not out of cultivated fear but genuine respect
when jongho is sore and tired from handling the riggings on a particularly rough and windy day, the others will offer to cover for his chores instead of flogging him into submission
and when mingi is divvying up the shares of the provisions and loot, the others will slip an extra bar of soap for seonghwa, the shiniest ring for mingi, or the largest bottle of rum for yunho, because they want to make each other happy
“hongjoong is the pirate king, yes, but a king should not take the lives of others for his own power. a true king uses his power to change the lives of others for the better…like yours…and like mine”
you frown with a jerk of your head
“what do you mean?”
you can’t see seonghwa as a broken man whatsoever
he gives you a weak smile, “i, too, used to be part of the royal navy”
your jaw drops
everything clicks into place - how he had figured out you weren’t just a common sailor and why he hadn’t confronted you about it
the shame and guilt come rushing back over you in a storm that is much too familiar by now
“i’m so sorry, all i’ve done is betray your trust-”
“but that’s what second chances are for, no?” seonghwa cuts you off, playfully flicking your forehead as he reminds you, “and i’m pretty sure you’ve chosen me over the royal navy”
your cheeks grow hot
“not you. the crew,” you mutter
he laughs and it’s a wonderful sound
“come on, it’s late,” seonghwa beckons. “let’s get some sleep”
when he sees that you’re still rooted to the spot, unsure whether you are deserving to go back, he decides for you and moves behind you to gently nudge you forward by the shoulders
you let him guide you
his hands are warm, you note, even through the linen of your shirt
his hands are also pretty, you observe, when he tries to fluff your hammock once you two have crept your way back to the berth
seonghwa helps you up into the hammock and you watch as he climbs into his
his hands are also teeming with love, you realise, when he wordlessly extends his arm nearest to you in a silent invitation
if you both reach out, you can just entwine your hands together from your respective hammocks
the burns on your palms have healed nicely and without the need for them to be wrapped, you can feel every expanse of his hand covering yours
he doesn’t retract his hand and neither do you, even though it’s not the most comfortable position and you both lose feeling of your arms soon after
but you lay in your hammock, drifting to the soft snores of the crew members around you and the soft tug of seonghwa’s fingers in yours
sleep comes easy to you
particularly tonight
as it will for the rest of your life
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yunho
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pov: you're the crew's navigator
you know it’s going to happen even before it actually does
you can feel it in the air and from the way the baby hairs around your hairline start to frizz
but you never say anything because you wouldn’t trade it for the moment when the first raindrop hits the back of yunho’s neck and he abandons his duty at the helm to drag you out onto the upper deck
(hongjoong only sighs in defeat before he stations himself at the helm instead)
you don’t like the rain
not like yunho does
you are already looking up from the map spread out in the captain’s quarters, a knowing smile on your face just from the sound of his bounding footsteps alerting you of his presence, when yunho appears with the beckon of rain
you pretend to let yourself be dragged to your feet along to his urges of come on!
but then you dash forward towards the hatch with yunho chasing after your bright laughter
in the short span of time that it has taken him to fetch you, the sprinkle of rain has steadily grown and the weathered planks of the deck are already a dark grey
you feel the coldness of the raindrops hitting the crown of your head and the spreading chill as your clothes start to become damp
but that’s not what makes you feel alive
yunho catches up to you easily and then he is snaking his arms around your waist to lift you up into the air
you barely have time to squeal and steady yourself on his broad shoulders before he is spinning the two of you around, the world blurring away as the spotlight shines on him and he is all that you can see
the deck is your stage and the sea is your audience
rain with yunho is twirling hugs, tiptoed kisses and tinkling laughter. it’s soaked shirts and rosy cheeks and the only thing that matters in the moment
you don’t like the rain, but it’s easy to like the rain when it’s with him
(hongjoong lets the two of you be - so obviously and hopelessly enamoured by each other - because when one sees people in love, one cannot help but watch and smile)
the rain eventually peters out and you and yunho must return to your respective duties, but not until you two have changed out of your drenched clothes and sneaked in a few more kisses
a few hours later, you hear the racket above the deck as a ship pulls up beside the arriba and ropes are thrown across from both sides to lash the vessels close together
hongjoong comes down to join you in his quarters, but he’s not alone
behind him is the captain of the silver light, dae jihoo, and his quartermaster, with seonghwa entering last
you note that this crew doesn’t have a navigator of their own
but you suppose that’s one of the reasons why their captain had implored an alliance for this particular raid
the crew of the silver light are wanting to target the prosperity triangle - an area between three large ports that is frequently trafficked by wealthy vessels transporting valuable goods
it’s a raid that would prove difficult for a smaller pirate crew like your own and the silver light, and especially if they have no navigator
but it’s not uncommon for pirates to form temporary alliances for such purposes, and together, your crews have a good chance of plundering a fortune
you nod your head in acknowledgement when hongjoong introduces you to the two pirates as ateez’s navigator
you don’t miss the way jihoo’s eyes seem to linger on you for a second too long before he flashes a crooked grin and gestures towards the navigational map spread out on the oak table
clearing your throat of discomfort, you step forward and flatten the creases out with your hands
“this is the most open spot within the triangle that the vessel we’re after will pass through,” you tap an annotated spot on the chart, “and this is where we are now”
you slide your finger across, “we’ll follow the rhumb line west to avoid the shallower waters and when we can catch the trade winds, it should be smooth sailing from there”
jihoo challenges you, “how can you be sure we’ll catch the ship within the triangle?”
“they’ll need to sail past the equator and i’m almost certain their ship will be slowed down by the doldrums. we can easily gain knots on them”
he squints at the scribbles you’ve made noting down what you’ve gathered of the wind patterns
you know for a fact that it will mean nothing to him, but whatever he sees must satisfy him because jihoo appears to make up his mind
“when do we set sail?” he directs his question to your captain
“three days from now”
he grunts a noise of affirmation and stands, which hongjoong takes as the cue to see them and the rest of their crew off your ship
you trail behind the group as you all head back to the upper deck
you prepare to emerge from the hatch with a playful wink, knowing that yunho will be craning his neck from the helm to get a glimpse of you, when a sudden holler surprises you out of your thoughts
it’s immediately met with the answering cries of several other pirates - none from your crew - and you hurry to clear the hatch to gain your bearings
you’re thrust right into the throes of battle as ateez are forced to unsheathe their cutlasses to defend against silver light’s sudden attack
having been caught off guard, basically none of your firearms are loaded with gunpowder, rendering them unusable
you will have to make do with the short sabre at your waist
there’s no time to account for the whereabouts and safety of your crew members and you just have to pray that you all make it out of this unscathed
especially yunho
but as ateez retaliate, you all notice something is off about the situation
your crew is very quickly overpowering the other pirates - it was a losing fight for them from the very beginning
it makes no sense to you nor the rest of your crew
the losses of breaking the alliance before the planned raid, much less through betrayal, far outweigh any gains they could possibly make from their choice of action
it makes absolutely no sense
until it does.
you are blocking the swing of a sabre with your own when you are tugged backwards harshly by the collar of your shirt
there’s an angry snarl in your throat as you prepare to turn around, but it’s quickly silenced by the warning shot of a pistol right beside your ear
the cold ring of metal is then pressed to the back of your head
you know that firearms require time to reload and there’s a chance that this pistol is now useless
but, like wooyoung has taught the rest of the crew to do, they may have pre-prepared several pistols and you are not willing to play with fire - especially when you are only the flex of a finger away from death
you vaguely hear someone yell out your name in panic, but you’re not quite sure you hear correctly over the clamour of cutlasses clashing, warcries resounding and your own heartbeat pounding
“stand down or your navigator dies,” the voice behind you thunders
it’s jihoo…and he wants a navigator for his crew
“ateez,” one of your men commands, “lower your weapons”
your crew may make decisions fairly, but in battle, only hongjoong has the power to make commands
yunho has never spoken against his captain or disobeyed orders
until now
the words do not come out of your captain’s mouth but yunho’s
the rest of the members hesitate - they will not stand down unless hongjoong commands them to, yet, they are unsure whether they will be able to follow should he demand them to fight on, even if it means endangering your life
but there is no guarantee jihoo will let your crew go unharmed even after you all surrender, and as the captain, hongjoong must make decisions in the best interest for the crew
“captain!” yunho yells desperately
yunho never yells
“stand down,” hongjoong commands
silver light’s captain steps in closer behind you until you can hear and feel the noise of intriguement that leaves his mouth down the back of your neck
“that your loverboy, hmm?”
he smirks
there’s a false moment of primal relief when the press of the pistol is removed from the back of your head, but it is immediately replaced with fear that is irrevocably worse as he aims it in yunho’s direction and shoots
“no!”
you shriek and pull against the tug of his hold, still fisted around your collar, your pupils blown wide with terror at the sight of the clean hole in the mast right beside yunho’s head
“it’ll be pretty boy’s head next if you don’t come with me,” jihoo coos into your ear
the fight slips out of you immediately
because if you can save him, a life for a life, then you will
even if the sight of mingi holding yunho back from lunging forward when the pistol’s barrel returns to your head makes your heart clench painfully
“y/n, don’t you dare,” yunho pleads, voice filled with anguish
you’re barely given enough time to lock eyes with him and say resolutely, “remember what you said to me,” before you are tugged away to the boarding plank
ateez can only watch helplessly as the planks are removed from over the bulwarks and the last of the ropes are untied, releasing the silver light from their ship for good
jihoo tugs you down the hatch as the ship starts to pull away, and just like that, you’re gone from their sights
“fuck!” yunho shouts furiously, unable to contain his emotions as he turns around and connects his fist with the mast
right where the musket ball had made a hole
his hand pulls away with bloodied knuckles from the splintered wood and the sheer force of his punch
a concerned whine leaves seonghwa’s mouth and he tries to approach the taller, but yunho shakes him off and looks determinedly at hongjoong
“we’re sailing to the banver isle just east of the triangle. we’ll ambush them there”
seonghwa looks between the two, hope flickering in his chest at the potential plan, “you think the silver light are stupid enough to try taking on the prosperity triangle alone?”
yunho chuckles darkly, “they were fucking shitbrained enough to take y/n, so yes”
nobody disagrees and hongjoong smirks dangerously
“ateez, ready the sails for banver isle,” he commands. “prepare for battle”
because not only have the silver light taken you away from ateez, but they have also annihilated the light from yunho’s eyes
gone are his warm brown orbs - they are now black holes thirsty for retribution
there will be lives to pay and even that will not be enough for the void
unaware of what your crew is capable of, jihoo looks down at you with a triumphant leer
“you’ll navigate us to the triangle in three days’ time. don’t even think about lying - you’ve already shown me where the location is”
with an even nod you reply, “of course”
it’s true though - you have absolutely no intention of navigating them somewhere else
because you know yunho will be waiting there for you
amidst chaste kisses exchanged between plush lips cold from the rain, yunho tells you in a brief moment of seriousness
“don’t show them where the real location is,” his breath is warm across your cheeks. “you know the coastal island roughly ten nautical miles away? show them that instead”
you tilt your head to look up at him, “you think they’ll betray us?”
“no,” he reassures you with a deeper, slower kiss, “but we can never be too safe”
and even if your vessels miss each other this time, you have complete faith that yunho will sail to the very ends of the world just to find you
two days before the originally-planned raid, the arriba sails as closely to banver isle as possible without risking running aground
yunho has navigated the ship around the back of the isle so that the form of the rocky terrain conceals them from sight
once the anchor is lowered, the crew members use every ticking moment to make preparations
swords are sharpened and firearms cleaned
mingi distributes the gunpowder and ammunition, which is pre-loaded into muskets, pistols and swivel cannons ready to be engaged
the ship’s sails and riggings are checked and yeosang keeps a keen lookout in the crow’s nest
and it’s as if the world itself can sense the brewing storm that grows inside yunho
the sea is eerily still and silent, but the sky is an omen to something impending, its rolling clouds dark and angry with the threat of rain leering over the waters
yunho doesn’t actually like the rain
he only likes it because it’s with you
rain with you is barefoot dancing, breathless confessions and bashful giggles. it’s drenched locks and fluttering eyelashes and the only thing that exists in the moment
but as the profile of the silver light finally approaches the isle two days later, the heavens split open and you are not by his side
rain without you is falling pinpricks, frigid winds and flaunting mockery and yunho despises it with his entire being
at yeosang’s call of, “vessel approaching from starboard,” up in the lookout, yunho smothers the fervid desire to barrage the other ship with cannonballs like hail from hell; to unleash an inferno that blazes through their hull as he sadistically watches the crew jump for their lives
he stamps out the hunger to shoot the ones that make it into the sea, not to kill, only to maim and induce a long, painful struggle in the open waters until death becomes inevitable - until there is enough blood spilt that it becomes the only stench in the air that stretches across for miles
yunho leashes his monsters with an iron fist
because he will not do anything that could even remotely endanger your life
even if it means that he has to hold back - to sit and wait like prey instead of advancing on the other ship like a predator
at least not yet.
silver light do not know, but this is the calm before the storm
the heavens may be crying, the winds may be howling and the waters may be roiling
but this is nothing compared to yunho
yunho is a tempest of unparalleled rage and their ship is in the eye of his storm
as the bowsprit of the silver light starts to appear around the isle, the members ready their grappling hooks and yunho draws his cutlass with a menacing whisper of unsheathing metal
you are his treasure, and pirates never lose sight of their treasure
today…you return to him
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yeosang
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pov: you're a tavern keeper
watching the ale reach the brim of the tankard you are holding, you’re about to step away from the barrel when the voice of a patron sounds behind you
“‘scuse me, could i get a mint-”
you look up and turn around in confusion as their voice cuts off
only to have the question taken right from the tip of your own tongue as you’re met with the face of the person you had loved for years
the same person you have spent twice as long trying to forget
eyes searching each other’s in a surprised stupor, seeing kang yeosang standing right in front of you takes you back to those memories that you have tried to remember and simultaneously bury
it thrusts you headfirst into what used to be of your shared love - like the feathery remnants of a dream, so distant from the fingers of your consciousness, suddenly returning to vivid existence when you least expect it
“hey, mint leaf. i’m back”
yeosang at least has the perceptiveness to appear a little apologetic, immediately pulling you into a hug and pressing soft kisses against your hairline uncaring of the other people in the tavern
it’s been several weeks since you last saw him, and whilst he had warned you he would be gone for longer this time, you hadn’t expected it to mean two whole months
he’s a small merchant who also fishes along the coast to earn enough to make ends meets, so he’s often gone for a few days or a week or two
you knew what you were in for when you first made it official with him, but just because you become accustomed to something, doesn’t mean it gets any easier
and he’s never been gone for this long
something must have happened - something good - because he looks alive, cheeks glowing and eyes fiery
“i met the crew”
“the crew?” you ask, hands reaching for the bourbon to prepare him a drink as he lets himself behind the counter to stand beside you in your workspace
he nods excitedly, "wooyoung’s pirate crew, ateez"
you think you know where this is going to go and you hate that your stomach sinks at the thought of what your future may become, because yeosang looks so happy to tell you about this and a happy yeosang is all that you could ask for
“the captain offered me a position as their lookout”
you pick out your next words carefully as you hand him his finished drink - a mint julep with two sugar cubes, just the way he likes it
"aren't…isn't being a pirate dangerous?"
“not as dangerous as you might think, actually. they’ve been showing me the ropes the last couple of weeks and…and i think i want to join them. officially”
there it is
the forked end of the road
you wonder how far two people can keep walking with their hands intertwined before the distance becomes too great and they have to let go
his words become a little muddled when he goes on to tell you about how they divvied up their recent loot to include his share too
how he’s gained more money than he’s made from the last two years of working as a merchant and fisherman combined
if he joins his old friend and his crew, he could earn enough to buy his parents a proper house; earn enough to build you your very own tavern
you want to tell him that you don’t need the tavern, just him, but you also know just how important his family is to him
his filial desire to take care of his parents was one of the very reasons you fell in love with him in the first place
before you can say anything though, the tavern keeper is interrupting to let you know that your shift is over
yeosang immediately perks up and herds you out of the place, claiming that there is a new fishing spot he discovered that he has to show you
and so you sit while he rows his modest boat, only the splash of his oars disturbing the peaceful stillness that has settled over the waters as the sun dips below the horizon
the waning light casts a soft, warm glow over him, like a gentle kiss against his skin and birthmark
if angels graced the earth, there would be one sitting right in front of you
“i missed you, mint leaf,” he confesses, gaze shyly averted. “i thought about you when i was gone”
“did you think about showing me this place?” you feel a little breathless
he nods, “every single night”
and that’s enough for you
it feels like everything is okay again
it doesn’t matter if you’re standing at a forked road
you think that perhaps, for him, you can walk on an unpaved path - just so that you can keep holding his hand
“y/n”
yeosang’s voice is deep
the word sounds foreign to your own ears but you don’t dwell on it
(because if you do, you’ll wonder whether it’s because you’ve forgotten the sound of his voice or because you want to hear him calling you something else)
“what would you like to order?” you ask
(because it’s easier to pretend that he’s just another patron than to admit that he used to be all that you ever knew)
yeosang fumbles a little but then regains himself, “oh, um- just a mint julep, please”
you turn your back to him to prepare his drink, hands reaching for the barrels lined along the bottom shelves without needing to look
you’ve made this drink too many times to count
half of those times were in the safety of the darkness that midnight offered; when the tears could flow freely without anyone seeing
it’s only when you start to mix his cocktail that yeosang realises he didn’t ask for his sugar cubes, but he figures the drink will taste bitter tonight either way so he opts to watch you instead
he wishes that he could walk past the counter like he used to and wrap his arms around you
he wishes that he could whisper endearments into your ears and press them against your lips
he wishes that he could show you that he still loves you
“do you still love me?” your voice wavers with hurt as you stand in front of him
he’s finally back after being gone for four months this time and you hate this conversation as much as he does, but it was bound to happen eventually
yeosang pleads, “more than anything”
“then why does it hurt so much? loving you…and being loved by you”
he doesn’t have an answer
but god be damned if he doesn’t try to find a way to fix things
“tell me, mint leaf, what can i do?”
you blink back your tears furiously, having already made up your mind while he was still at sea
“let’s break up”
because in the end, unpaved paths have too many rocks, too many thorns and too many arched roots; they were never meant to be walked along
you pass yeosang his finished drink without another word and then move further down the counter to serve a different customer
his eyes linger on you wistfully before he tears them away from you
it’s a good thing his hair has grown long enough to cover his face when he looks down
because his eyes start to grow wet at the sight of the mint julep you have made him
with two sugar cubes in it, just the way he likes it
perhaps, once you’ve loved somebody, you never really stop loving them
yeosang shows up again the next day and seats himself at the bar
you don’t serve him though, actively avoiding his end of the counter and letting another of your staff tend to him
he orders his usual but he leaves out his request for additional sugar cubes
it feels wrong for him to order it from someone that isn’t you
but you’re watching out of the corner of your eye as the worker mixes the bourbon, sugar and water, topping it with a few mint leaves and then sliding it across the counter for him
you let out a little sigh, half amused, when he takes a small sip and smacks his lips together at the bitterness
you take two sugar cubes and drop it unceremoniously into his pewter cup before you realise what you’re doing
yeosang immediately seizes the opportunity to talk to you
“my crew’s docked for the fortnight…” he waits to see if you’ll respond. you don’t, but you also don’t move away, so he continues. “we’re making some repairs to the hull and sails before our next raid”
you have half a mind to walk away after you reply, “i didn’t ask” 
he forges on regardless
“we’re going to work with another crew for this one. it’s going to increase our chances of a successful raid because-”
your voice comes out a little harsher than you mean for it to when you hiss again, “i didn’t ask”
yeosang’s mouth closes as he pulls away slightly, back straightening
then he says in a softer voice, “i’ve been doing well. wooyoung still takes care of me, even though i’m not new to the crew anymore. i also saw my parents today and they’re happily retired now…”
you don’t stop him from talking this time
because how many sleepless nights have you spent sitting outside your tavern looking up at the stars; how many times have you served a mint julep to a patron and accidentally added sugar cubes; how many moments have you been consumed by the thought of him, simply wondering if he is living well?
this is everything that you have ever wanted - yeosang in the flesh letting you know that, yes, he has been well
but it is also everything that you have ever feared - that he has been well even without you
you don’t know what to feel
“my parents asked about you,” he says gingerly. “how have you been?”
his voice is barely audible, as if he is afraid of what you might say
or perhaps, afraid that you might not say anything at all
“good. excellent,” you force a small smile, your eyes still focused on the mint leaves floating in his drink. you don’t think you can look at him. “i own this place now”
his body loses its tension, cheeks rounding as he looks at you with genuine relief
“that’s…that’s really good to hear”
his words sting
you are unsure if it stings your ego or if it picks at the wound in the shape of the person you have lost
but it hurts to know that he has worried over you in the exact same way you have over him, the whole time you two have been apart
you’re suddenly overwhelmed by the realisation and hot tears well in your eyes almost immediately
your bottom lip starts to crumple so you rush into the back room to escape
“y/n!” yeosang calls out after you, alarmed
when you don’t stop, disappearing into the storage, he jolts up from his seat and follows
your body shudders with every heaving breath you take, unable to stop yourself from crying even harder when you feel him tug you into his chest
you try to pull away but his sturdy arms tighten around you
yeosang refuses to let you go once more
“i hate you,” you sob, struggling against his hold as you hit his chest weakly
he hushes comforts against the crown of your head, soothing noises as he endures your fists
“you have every reason to”
yeosang holds back tears of his own
he feels your body gradually losing its fight, sinking into his embrace instead, hands desperately holding him close
your voice is so impossibly small when you tearfully confess, “but i still love you”
“oh, mint leaf,” he brushes the stray locks of hair away from your face and cradles your jaw tenderly, “i still love you, too”
he presses a soft kiss against your forehead, pulling away once only to reaffirm, “so, so much”
when he kisses you again, his lips taste salty against your own, but nothing has ever tasted sweeter than this
your breath no longer stutters but the tears continue to run down your face because your heart finally feels right after all these years apart
and yet-
you pull away
“we can’t do this”
yeosang feels his heart shattering
“why not? i don’t understand,” he whimpers
“you know why,” you say distressingly, “my life is here, yeosang. i can’t just leave and return whenever i want. but you, on the other hand? you can. you go where your crew goes - you belong with them”
“but my heart belongs to you. please, y/n,” he begs
his arms are still wrapped around you and you feel his desperation as his fingers cling onto you like a lifeline
you look earnestly into his bloodshot eyes, your own vision blurry, “yeo, you’re not the one who gets left behind here. you’re not the one who waits weeks, months, years on end, just hoping that the next person to walk in is the person that you want to see”
he wants to plead that he waits to see you, too, but he knows that he’s the one who leaves, too
“you’re the right one for me - the only one for me - but it’s not the right time,” you tell him gently
slowly, his arms lower themselves from around you
“it wasn’t the right time then and it isn’t the right time now,” he repeats, “then when is the right time for us?”
you shoot the question right back at him, “when is the right time for someone whose life is to sail the world?”
neither of you know the answer
nobody does, because loving a pirate has no certainties
but yeosang doesn’t give up
“if we can’t ever be sure, why don’t we just make it the right time ourselves?”
you caress his cheek sweetly, and despite having stepped away from you earlier, he leans into your hand, starved of your loving touch and affection
“yeosang…what if we’ve already had it? what if…meeting each other was already it? what if we’re just meant to love from a distance, not side by side?” your voice is poignant but resolute
he brings up a hand to cover yours, still warm and tender against his wet cheek
how is it that he can be touching you yet simultaneously feel worlds apart from you
“okay,” he accepts with a whisper
if loving you silently is the only way he gets to love you, then he will choose it in a heartbeat over losing you entirely
he thumbs away the remainder of your tears
“can i kiss you? one last time?” he asks
you nod
“one last time”
your lips slowly meet, slotting together as they find their home in each other’s dips and curves
his hands cradle the small of your back and neck and your own hands rest against his chest
the kiss you share is steady, longing and bittersweet
it conveys everything that you want to say to each other, and even then, it is hardly enough
thank you
i’m sorry
i love you
goodbye…
you can feel your eyes burning up again, but you focus on the feeling of yeosang’s lips against yours instead
because you know that the moment one of you pulls away, that is it forever
in the world of love, there are people who are ill-fated
they meet the right person, but at the wrong time
and then there are people like you and yeosang
not ill-fated, but star-crossed lovers
the right person…
but just not meant to be
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2K notes ¡ View notes
themxtleycrew ¡ 10 months ago
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"Hello?"
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"Hey, what's up?"
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"I need your help, can you come here?"
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"Uhh, I can't, I'm buying clothes."
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"Alright, well, hurry up and come over here."
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"Uhh, I can't find 'em."
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"What do you mean you 'can't find 'em'?"
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"I can't find 'em, there's only soup.""
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"What do you mean there's 'only soup'?"
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"It means there's only soup!"
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"Well then get out of the soup aisle!"
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"Alright you don't have to shout at me!"
*footsteps*
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"There's more soup!"
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"What do you mean there's 'more soup'!?"
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"There's just more soup!"
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"Go into the next aisle!"
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"There's still soup!"
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"Where ARE you right now!?"
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"I'M AT SOUP!"
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"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'RE 'AT SOUP'?!"
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"I mean I'm AT SOUP!"
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"WHAT STORE ARE YOU IN?!"
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"I'M AT THE SOUP STORE!!"
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"WHY ARE YOU BUYING CLOTHES AT THE SOUP STORE?!!"
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"FUCK YOU!"
2 notes ¡ View notes
teastyun ¡ 17 days ago
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¨༺ the sweet taste of submission
arcane sevika x female reader pirate au (nsfw)
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being blackmailed into piracy, you never expected anything less than cruelty to encounter you in your foreseeable future. but what happens if you become best friends with the captain's quartermaster? are you able to prevent any further feelings from developing?
a/n: happy release of season 2!! i'm watching the first arc at a public viewing event in my city with my closest friends and hope to win all the plushies hehe,, update: i did not win any plushies but i got a vi voodoo-doll from the series made by jinx and several other things including a coin with sevika on it 🥹
mastlerlist
walking into your crews' favourite tavern called The Last Drop, the hot and stuffy atmosphere immediately hits you as you're able to only her the chatting and brawling of your crew mates. the tavern is filled with almost your whole crew drinking and singing popular sea shanties as one of two guys would drunkly wrestle in the farthest corner of the wooden tavern, but your eyes only caught on Sevika at the biggest table through the dimmed lights talking to her mates despite all the commotion surrounding her.
Sevika is in her usual thin black linen shirt, where a few buttons were missing and her sleeves rolled up to her elbows, revealing her slightly damaged prosthetic arm from today's battle. her other biological muscular arm looks taken up by scratches and bruises, which also coats her collarbone and cheek with hints of dried blood and forming bruises. her revealing muscular cleavage is layered with sweat, making it hard for you to look away from someone who was once only a close friend to you.
"y/n! you're in a for round or not?" your best friend calls over the loud noises of the crew from the table they managed to claim. your eyes left Sevika and followed the voice, where your friend held up a tankard of rum and deck of cards which were about to spill all over the table due to your already tipsy friend.
grinning, you pushed yourself through the crowd, desperately hoping no one saw you gawking at Sevika a minute ago. battling the hot and damp temperatures of the room, you opened a few buttons of your linen shirt beneath your leather vest before you sit down on the seat your friend saved you.
"at least try to not gawk at her like a nasty dog," your friend murmurs as they filled your tankard with rum and eye you with playful eyes. "eyes on the drink," you counter your friend who was about to spill your tankard.
you take a silent gulp of your drink and a mouthful of bread, before y'all's night officially start with your first round of poker, trying desperately to forget Sevika, who is plaguing your mind.
only a few weeks ago, you and Sevika were inseparable from the day you two were blackmailed to join piracy with Slico as your Captain. at first, you two started as mere sailors, but Sevika eventually became the Captain's trusty quartermaster. you, on the other hand, voluntarily remained the chef cook of the ship, loving your own big quarters that was daily filled with most of the crew eating whatever you managed to provide that day. Sevika would always stay in late in your kitchen, eating with you after the crew left and helping you wash up the mess of the day. you two were always touchy, especially when you two were alone in each other's quarters, separated from reality. she would always put her lower hand at your back when she reached to grab something next to you and rest her arm on your shoulder as you tell her your most private thoughts on anything. as much as she liked to touch you, you would always massage her sore muscles she requested after any battles (aching to hear her rare small moans casually escaping) and help her fix her mechanical arm anytime she's too tired for it.
the problem is, your liking for her didn't stop just there. recently, you've noticed the uneasy feeling in your stomach whenever she was with you, which you desperately tried to get rid off in order to save your friendship. you tried to put as much distance between you and Sevika as you could, which she slowly but surely noticed over time. confused by your actions, she also distanced herself from you. your once close friendship turned into confusion and slowly into unaccounted hatred. not only did you loose your friendship, but the romantic feelings for her grew even stronger due to the lack of interaction with her. and fuck, you hated everything about it. you're hyperaware of her presence anytime she's near you and you can't help but grow agitated at her presence that fills any room you're in.you even tried to fuck your horniness out of your system with several other women, but nothing hindered the constant thoughts you have of Sevika plaguing your mind. the image of her touching, groping, fucking you eft your knees weak at the mere thought of it.
as you sip from your tankard and relish the sweet burn in your throat, a gaze lingering on you burns into your consciousness. your first instinct is for your eyes to wander to Sevika, who's eyes seemed to be fixed on anything but you. as your eyes wanted to wander back to your group, all of a sudden you notice the tavern girl sitting down in Sevika's lap. her lacy white straps of her garment fell off her shoulders, revealing her bust to Sevika's sight, who grinned at her before her eyes knowingly set on you. questioning your gaze, her eyebrow arched as she kissed the woman's shoulder. her grey piercing eyes never leave yours as her lips trace her collarbone.
your breath starts to quicken up, not able to leave your eyes off of her kissing the woman's bare breasts as she moans and throws her head back, unaware of the game you and Sevika were playing in that moment with each other.
"i need to go," you tell your best friend, before you leave them the rest of your deck and finish the last drop of the tavern's burned rum, desperate for any numbing of the storm of emotions that were risking to bust inside of you. your friend stops mid-action to examine your unclear gaze.
"don't do anything stupid," they tell you with affection in their eyes, but respecting the distance you seem to need. you smile before you wave at your crew to call it a night. you desperately try not to throw another glance at Sevika as you exit The Last Drop and enter the humid night.
inhaling the smell of sea, you push the sweaty strands of hair off your face and exhale shakily before you try to process whatever happened inside the tavern.
desperate to feel the deck beneath your worn leather boots, you walk away from the loud tavern and head to your ship.
arriving at the docks, a mate on night watch nods at you before he returns to his duties. his gaze towards the vibrant town. the slight sway of the ship immediately calms your senses as you walk further on the ship.
stopping at the worn wooden railing, you rest your weight on your forearms and link your fingers to stop them from trembling. the sea always mesmerised you since you work for Captain Silco. it's truly the only place in the world that calms you merely by it existing. beneath the silver moonlight the sea glitters magically in reflection to it. the only sounds audible are the waves hitting the shore and the rafts of the ship occasionally flapping with a hue of wind, leaving you at ease.
the heavy creaks of wood beneath someone's feet rip you from your peace as you immediately recognised the person behind the sound, but your eyes maintain fixated on the waves dancing around the ship.
the person joins you as she turns to lean against the railing with her back to the sea, watching you as you still avoid eye contact with her.
"why are you avoiding me?" Sevika crosses her arms and cocks her head closer in your direction. her grey eyes slice you open and all the peace you just restored was instantly destroyed.
"why would you look at me with someone's tits up your face?" you counter bluntly, still avoiding any eye contact with her.
she chuckled merely at your response, "why, would you have preferred them to be your tits?"
shocked, your eyebrows furrow and you loosen your hands to grab the railing, "what? fuck, no!" your voice rises.
"then why would you care about whose tits are in my face?" her voice sounds unusually calm, sending you into a spiral of emotions as you turn to finally make eye contact with her for the first time since the incident at the tavern.
your hand automatically grabs the hilt of your sword tugged into the leather scabbard around your waist, needing any support as you try to challenge the grey eyes piercing into yours. Sevika notices your motion but chooses not to comment on it.
"answer my fucking question," she takes a step towards you and you can feel her breath mingling on your skin. "tell me, why are you avoiding me?" she says slowly, watching every move of yours closely.
unsure about how to react, you maintain the tense eye contact with her. you're trembling on the inside and your grip on the hilt of your sword hardens to avoid your muscles from starting to shake.
"because i can't stand your face," you lie to her. "i can't stand your presence anymore," you continue. taking a deep breath, you whisper with only truth "and i don't know how to feel about you anymore."
her eyebrows furrow as she comprehends your words. she seems to look for any signs of emotions on your face, before she bluntly says "i don't believe you."
"prove it." she pushes you with her biological arm, "fight me, love. show me how much you can't stand my presence."
you stumble a step back at the nickname, gripping your sword even tighter as you free it from its hilt. she pushes the sleeves of her shirt up as she stretches the sharp pointy fingers on her mechanical arm, watching every move of yours. you are a skilled fighter, but you prefer to not fight your beloved ones, especially those who you secretly adore to an extend that's slowly killing you inside.
Sevika flicks the blade of your sword against her mechanic arm, but you were quick to dodge her swinging her arm back. it only results in you two going further into the fight, leading her to leave several small cuts across your torso as you managed to dodge any of her attacks on you. across her eyebrow sat a small deep cut from the tip of your sword, the blood dripping down her face. the fight becomes more serious and deadly with each second you fight.
the eyeing of night watchers expands into a crowd including half the crew watching the ongoing fight. "looks like we've got an audience," Sevika mumbles as she smears the blood off of her eye with her bare hand.
catching your breath, you turn to examine the audience around you two. "i assume our fight has became more interesting than their gambling games in the tavern?" you say in a low tone only Sevika could audibly understand. she grins at your question before she counters, "how sweet of you to think that we haven't become their new gambling game, love."
"what?" you exclaim in surprise as she arches an eyebrow at you and her grin deepens. "Renni?" she calls into the audience, revealing a tall guy with a mechanic nose and green vibrant cords attached to it. he's handling any gambling games in your crew.
"yes, quartermaster?" he responds, resulting the chatter in the audience to silence immediately. "how many people bet on me winning the most rounds?"
the gambling master grins at her question. "the whole crew, quartermaster. all but one," he calls, eyeing the girl in striped red trousers and long blue braids dangling as she spins to him. her dirty gunpowder-covered hand shot into the air.
grinning, you watch Sevika narrow her eyes at the girl who's showing nothing but pride in her evaluation of you winning.
huffing, Sevika turns to you and mumbles, "don't get your hopes up, the Captain's daughter never won a bet in her life."
cocking your head at her damaged ego, you whisper with a wicked smile "i don't care," before Jinx intervenes with a pointed finger at you two, "actually, i've won several bets concerning you guys."
you watch Jinx with curiosity as Sevika only narrows her eyes at her again.
"several?" you question in confusion.
"how many times have you guys bet on us?" Sevika asks, her eyes wandering through the crowd as she watches everyone's reaction.
"i lost count." Renni states simply. "but it was usually whether you guys would fuck or kill each other." the crew laughs at Renni's blunt truth. you blankly stare at him as you loosen the grip on the hilt of sword. Sevika chuckles at the situation as she whispers to you, "so, they actually believe we'd fuck each other rather than kill."
"what's your take on that, y/n?" she continues as the tip of her sharp finger trails your jawline. the sensation of the light pressure clouds your mind and no words can be formed in your head all of a sudden. she knowingly smiles at your reaction and her finger travels beneath your chin as she guides your eyes to look at her, her breath mingling with yours.
your unoccupied hand pulls your hidden dagger out of your vest as you press it against her throat. her grey eyes darken as she grins at your unexpected move. she holds her hand in the air, showing any submission that was left in her.
"do you actually want to know?" you whisper as your eyes move between her narrow eyes and full lips despite her grin, the tip of your dagger pressing into her dark skin as a drop of blood runs down her neck.
her eyes darken at your question and the next thing you felt was her hand at your lower back pulling you on the hard wooden deck. your sword loudly slides across the wooden deck, hitting several obstacles of all kinds on its way.
she straddles your hips as her mechanic hand squeezes your throat and the biological one pins your wrists above your head, the dagger still in a tight grip in your dominant hand. "fuck," you murmur but wouldn't dare to break eye contact with her. "that was a dirty move."
"you can forfeit now, if you want." she suggests. "and why the fuck you wouldn't even dare to look at me all those weeks." she moves closer to whisper in your ear, "Jinx will loose her bet either way, may as well save your energy."
you gasp as a shudder ran down your spine as her breath tickled your sensitive skin beneath your ear. gathering all your strength, you try to pull your wrists out of her grasp. "i never yield," you say as she looks at you with the wicked smile of hers. your conversation was so quiet, only you two were able to hear each other as the crew chatted and the waves were dancing.
"i strongly recommend you to yield, love. save yourself some embarrassment," she tells you, but you're not having it. you try to lift your hips, but her core presses you even harder into the wood. "if you want me to yield, you have to make me," you whisper with a shaky breath that escapes mouth as you feel heat shooting down your core at the position you two are in. she quirks her eyebrow at you as she watches you writhe beneath her. your eyes wander down her neck to the her buttoned down shirt, revealing heavy breasts and pointy nipples through the thin linen. wandering down further, you see the swell of her core pressed into yours and you feel your breath becoming uneven.
"you're obviously loosing," she whispers. you squirm beneath her and your movements seem to affect Sevika as well. she presses her legs even harder against your waist, but can't help the heavy sigh that left her mouth as the scabbard around your waist seems to graze her core. "just yield," she said breathlessly as her eyes darken.
a shaky breath escapes your lips and you stop your squirming, visibly satisfying Sevika as her grip on you loosens. you immediately start fighting again and almost knock her off, but she grumbled "fucking stop," before she readjusted her grip on you and slid her leg beneath yours.
her mouth corners pull into a sly grin as she watches your reaction. your eyes went wide as you gasp, your warm and soft core directly pressing onto her knee. still, you try to push her off by trying to lift your hips, but the thin cotton of your brown trousers didn't do you any justice. your clit pulses at the friction and you try not to roll your eyes. she leans down to whisper, "what's wrong, love?" as her eyes switch between your eyes and your lips. "yield," she commands as her shining grey eyes pierce yours.
"no," you whisper and you feel her mechanical hand tighten around your throat. her knee pressed upwards and your head falls back as your eyes flutter closed from the friction you're experiencing down in your core. you name rolls of your tongue as you moan, arching your back as she readjusts her knee against you.
"i can basically feel your heat through your trousers," she whispers breathlessly, "you must be so wet right now."
shocked if anyone would hear you two, you gasp and tried to wiggle your wrists free, but miserably fail again. "what if anyone hears us?" you ask, but your eyes wouldn't leave hers to look around. that piercing gaze of hers results in another rush of heat spiking through your legs right into your core. "so, go on and yield," she tells you as she's grinning again, "so we can finish it in your quarters."
exaggerating her point, she presses her knee upward, sending your back arching. you almost forgot where you are, until crew mates were chanting Sevika's name. despite the crew's chanting, she keeps her gaze fixed on you as she closes her eyes to whisper against your lips, "please."
"yield, so i can finally fucking kiss you," she whispers breathlessly and you feel her lips grazing against yours. exhaling, you look at her with such intensity in your eyes, wondering if she really just said what you heard.
"fine," you murmur. smiling, she finally releases her hold on you as you push yourself up to yell, "i yield!"
standing, Sevika reaches out to help you stand up as the crowd cheers as if they've just won a triumph in a battle. you swear you heard a frustrated Jinx trotting off, leaving you chuckling in disbelief. the crowd disperses over the whole deck and Sevika whispers "i'll make it up to you, love."
"just," you start, "just shut up and hurry." you go to grab your sword as you push through the group of people. you hear her chuckle somewhere behind you and you can't suppress the smile that's growing on your lips. pushing your sword back into your scabbard, you walk down the stairs to your kitchen quarters with Sevika close behind you. her real hand rests on your lower back until you reach downstairs, away from any noise and other drunk pirates.
you turn around to pull her into an aching, hot and longing kiss. fuck, her full lips felt so soft compared to the rough and deep kiss, leaving you moaning as she bites your lower lip.
your sword hits the wooden table behind you as Sevika hoists you up on it. the kiss grows more frantic with every second, both of you sighing and moaning as the other would occasionally bite at the others lip. your arms slip behind her neck and her mechanical arm pulls you even closer to you as she stands between your thighs, which are hooked around her waist.
moaning, you grind against her trousers' seam, which you felt her press onto your core a few minutes ago. you break the wet kiss as your head falls back, feeling the perfect angle pushing against your clothed clit.
she grunts before her hands slip to hold each side of your hip to stop your frantic movements.
"fuck, i'm about to come undone if you won't stop, love," she says as she rests her forehead on her shoulder to catch her breath after she manages to stop the grindings between the two of you. before you could respond, she kissed you rough and messy as her hands slide over hips up to your waist.
her name spilled out of her lips after her real hand moved further up to cup your tit beneath your leather vest. her thumb teases your still clothed nipple as both of your hands softly pulled her hair, urging her on to continue. "Sev-," you gasp as her index and thumb pinched your nipple.
she's watching every single move of yours like you're the most beautiful person she ever witnessed. your eyes hazily fix on hers and you feel the emotions rising in all of a sudden. looking at her, you’re reminded of the feelings you’ve recently developed for her and the fact that you still owe her an explanation for your behaviour the last few weeks.
nonetheless, she smiles at you as you’re seemingly lost in your own thoughts. "Sev," you say again, trying to start whatever coherent sentence you were about to voice, but her lips on the shell of your ear interrupted the last string of thoughts you had.
"go on, love," she whispers and a shudder runs down your spine from her warm breath tickling your nerves. inhaling, you try to not concentrate on her lips that were moving down further and further with every wet kiss she presses on your skin. not to forget, her hand was caressing your tit, although it already moved on to your other one.
"i‘m sorry," you say, your hands playing with her hair to calm yourself. "i‘m so sorry, Sev," you continue, in- and exhaling to calm yourself "i really didn’t want to treat you like an enemy the last few weeks."
Sevika stops in her kisses as she expands her posture to look eye-to-eye with you. her mechanical hand still rests on your lower back as your hand drive off of her. continuing on, you look away almost in shame, "i don’t know why i haven’t communicated my feelings with you from the start. i hope you can forgive me for the last few weeks."
a smile grows slowly on her lips as she’s lost in her own thoughts, "so you have feelings for me, love?"
surprised by her reaction, you answer "i mean, isn’t it obvious considering what we’re doing right now? you’re hand is still on my tit!"
laughing, you shake your head at her surprised face but the smile on her lips never left. her mentioned hand moves up to your neck to pull you into a heartbreakingly loving kiss that you never want to stop.
"i forgive you, love," she whispers against your lips, "under one condition."
breaking the kiss and looking at her expectingly, she continues, "promise me to always come to me if something is in your mind. i don’t want us to end in a fight again."
smiling, you answer, "i promise." hooking your arms around her neck again, you say with a grin on your face "speaking of our fight, you still owe me something."
"you don’t have to remind me," she says with a laugh before her lips find yours again before her hand finds the opening of your scabbard. skilled with only her mechanical hand, she opens your trousers and traces the lines of your underwear.
"just so you know," she says as the sharp tip of her index finger slides down your pussy, "when we grew apart, i slowly realised that you mean more to me than a best friend."
she presses a kiss on your forehead, then on your cheek and lastly on your lips before she pulls away to react to her finger circling your clit over the cotton of your underwear. sighing from the sensation and love at the same time, you smile at her through hazed eyes as your hand slides down to trace her suggestive cleavage you were eyeing the whole night before you pinched her pointy nipple underneath her shirt.
exhaling in pleasure, her movements quicken on your clit. your breathing grows more rapid with every bolt of sensitivity you feel in your core. realising how close you were, she releases her hold on you and swaps her mechanical hand with her biological as she slips two fingers into your fold underneath your underwear. you whimper when she enters you with both thick fingers at the same time, but her kisses around your throat soothe the sting, which quickly turned into pure pleasure. moaning, you feel her curling her fingers to test your g-spot, making you see stars as she sucks and bites hickeys on your neck.
grasping for any hold on her, one hand fists the back of her shirt as the other one pulls on her hair as her movements quicken with every moan that escapes you. the table beneath you creaks loudly with every thrust of her, but when you come, the only thing you were able to process was the stars you were seeing and the sound of your heartbeat pulsing in your ears. you scream her name as your long orgasm takes several seconds, leaving you panting with tears in your eyes.
when you're able to recognise your surroundings again, you see Sevika watching you with unsteady breaths and clouded eyes. "fuck, my soul left me for a second," you indirectly praise her and she immediately smiles at your sentence. again, she leaves several kisses around your face.
"i'm so glad to finally call you mine."
554 notes ¡ View notes
tetzoro ¡ 2 months ago
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☽◯☾ - SWORD AND SHEATH
꒰ synopsis ꒱ : After another slew at sea, you and Zoro have the ship all to yourselves as the crew restocks up on the island. They say that curiosity kills the cat, but what happens when you've tamed the beast?
꒰ content ꒱ : MDNI. zoro roronoa x f!reader ; swordplay, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, mentions of spit, pet names (baby, pretty girl), mentions of squirting, lots of teasing and praise — WC : 5.2k
⭑ 𓂃 ꒰ First Quarter ! ꒱ ― Kinktober Masterlist
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Each glide of the polish-infused cloth along the Wado Ichimonji is slow, refined. Zoro was using his practiced hand to do the process he’s done thousands of times with the blade he cherishes most.
It was a form of art — the way the blade would be reborn with the shine it was always meant to have, no longer weighed down by the blood, dirt, and sweat that would so often coat it.
The sun beats down on him as he continues his ritual. Sword maintenance was just as important as training; it was cathartic, another form of meditation that Zoro relied on to center himself, grow stronger, and keep his tools as efficient as he could. 
Wiping away the horrors each weapon has seen makes him feel a little more cleansed himself. Zoro has never been one to shy away from a fight or doing what he needs to do in order to survive, but the process just reminds him that he won the battle; he’s the one who gets to clean his blades and move onto his next enemy — the next step in his dream.
His wandering mind can’t help but drift back to you — his bright star in the night sky, the one that silently guides him along and encourages his every step on his journey, even going as far as lighting the way when the path seems too dark. 
After a few moments of being with you, he too feels the weight of the blood on his hands fade away as soon as you lovingly take them in yours. The tender skin of your palms kissing, the buzz of being grounded by each squeeze you grant him and he finds himself able to begin again.
Seagulls chirp overhead as he works, polishing his blades with intent, his focus unshakeable even though the world around him demands attention. The gentle lull of the waves, the whispering breeze in the air, he was able to tune it all out.
But the moment you came waltzing onto the deck, his ears perked up and his nose scrunched, signaling that he knew you were there and mentally preparing himself for whatever you had planned next. If only he knew.
“What do you want now?” The last word dies in his throat as he takes you in, freezing in place. You only see it because you know him so well, and have studied his face and all of his expressions far and wide. 
The subtle widening of his eye, barely a fraction of a difference but it’s a difference all the same. The stoic mask he so often wears, acting indifferent to things such as clothes, slips away as no one could ever ward off the power of beauty - especially yours.
The facade begins to chip away as a blush spreads across his face, gears turning in his brain to find something to say as you make your way over to him.
Because today, the Sunny was docked at an island for a routine supply run and you were all too quick to volunteer you and Zoro to stay back and watch the ship together. He should've known right then and there that you were up to no good but your syrupy sweet eagerness disarmed him. 
But now you were stalking closer to him, dressed up entirely in his clothes – or at least some of them. Adorned in his notable green robe, his haramaki, and completed with his bandana securely tied around your head. His gaze rakes over your figure, taking in the way you look wearing one of his favorite outfits. Swallowing hard, his adam's apple bobs in anticipation. He can’t help but feel his throat close up and trap all the words he wishes to say behind a wall of surprise.
“What do you think?” You ask, your lips bending in a coy manner. 
A blush blooms across his tanned skin in a slow crawl, blossoming into a darker shade the more you twirl in his robe that very clearly shows you’re not wearing his pants underneath it.
His jaw clenched, unable to form any words as he continues to drink you in. This was the last thing he expected from you today, but he really should’ve known better.
“You’re blushing.” You grin, going to poke his cheek. But his reflexes were too sharp, instantly swatting your hand away before turning his head away from you.
“Am not! Shut up!” He hisses out, the blush only deepening as you call him out. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, woman.”
“Don’t I?” You move to get back in his line of sight, that disarmingly sweet yet taunting smile still resting on your lips. “Just tell me what you think of the outfit, Zo.”
“You’re wearing my clothes.” He points out, stating the obvious. You don’t bother to hide the way you roll your eyes.
“Very astute of you. Did you have to use your Haki to come to that conclusion?” 
Without another word, Zoro throws you over his shoulder, marching back into the ship and straight for the bunks. You squeal, accusing him of being a brute as you lazily pound your fists against his back. 
Zoro slaps your ass with a sadistic grin that you don’t have the pleasure of seeing before he begins to squeeze and knead the plush flesh, unable to move his firm hand away from it.
He makes his way into the cramped room. It wasn’t his favorite place to take you but it was the closest and climbing up the crow's nest would only cause a delay between him and what he desired most.
After closing the heavy wooden door with the back of his boot, he tosses you onto the bed, letting you sprawl out for him while he places his swords to the side – perfectly lined up as always.
“Wearing my clothes around like this…” Zoro trails off as his eye zeroes in on the way the robe slides off of your shoulder, teasingly exposing the sliver of your chest. He can feel his face heat up all over again. “Are you really not wearing anything under this?”
“Well, the pants didn’t fit me and you don’t normally wear a shirt under this.” The impassive manner in which you said that did not hold a candle to the way your eyes were fired up with a diabolical mirth wrapped up with mischief. Always playing the little minx that would find a way to burrow under his skin and make a home there just to torture him. Or so he says.
“You little...” Zoro quickly crawls over you, caging you in under him, elbows digging into the mattress by your head. “You make it so hard for me sometimes.”
“Do I? Let me feel—” You reach toward his pants but his hand encircles your wrist.
“Oi! That’s not what I meant.” he almost hisses out. He took your wrists in his hands and pinned them over your head on the flattened pillow on his bunk.
The thread of control he was clinging onto was no match for the ember of desire you spark in him. One single strike and it would be burnt out, turning into ash and falling right into the palm of your hand. 
“I know.” You giggle. The damn giggle that never fails to cause something within him to flutter, stirring it around until he had no choice but to act on it. 
Surging forward, his lips aggressively capture yours. There’s no room for easing into it, just a clash of teeth knocking together, swirling with a mix of heady groans and needy moans.
But that’s one of his favorite things about kissing you — how you were just unabashed about how messy it would get. Swapping spit through the sheer force of each other's tongues shoving their way into hot, receptive mouths.
The amount of passion and unspoken feelings he’s able to express through this simple act is something he flourishes at, excelling at unraveling you. Gripping your cheeks, he tilts your head back slightly so he can deepen the kiss — as if he was trying to spill the words that stubbornly sat on the tip of his tongue and have it reach the bottom of your heart.
The call for air was growing too difficult to ignore and reluctantly he pulled back, letting the string of saliva snap and drip down your chins. He leans down, kissing the droplet off of your skin, ingesting as much as he possibly can before looking at you.
You look back at him through half-lidded eyes, melting into the bed already from the ferocity of the kiss. His steely eye trails away from your swollen, lust-bitten lips in favor of taking in the way you’re panting under him. Need takes over him as he reaches for your — his — clothes.
Zoro has disrobed himself many times, but he’s never had to take it off of someone else like this. He knows the way it unravels open and leaves his chest all exposed before he fights someone, but this isn’t one of those times.
With a gentleness that only love could bring, he languidly undoes the robe, pulling back a bit so he can see how the green fabric bunches around your sides, your heaving chest now out on display for him.
Peppering a few kisses down your jaw, his tongue trails your neck as he works his way down to your collarbone and your supple chest. Each delicious drag has you squirming under him, whining about him being a tease.
“You’re one to talk.” Zoro gruffs out with a bite of sarcasm, giving your nipple a quick pinch. He relishes in the yelp of his name that you beautifully let out before carefully trailing his slick tongue along your skin. 
The way you mewl as his lips enclose your pert bud only reinforces the primal desire that’s been raging inside of him since you first came out dressed in that damn robe.
After giving your other breast the same treatment, he presses his lips in the middle of your chest and lets it linger so he can inhale one of the sweetest parts of your body — the one that lays closest to your heart.
Zoro presses wet, open-mouthed kisses all along your stomach, moving further down until easily slipping your panties off and tossing them behind him.
Running his fingers along your glistening folds, he holds back a groan at the strings of arousal already clinging to him.
“Already so wet f’me.” His eye was trained at the apex between your thighs, his tongue poking out to lick his bottom lip. “Gonna prep you now.”
Bringing his face closer, he shuts his eye in a hazy bliss as he takes in your scent. The action always made you squirm but he was addicted to every single aspect of your cunt. He could never get enough of your musk, knowing that heaven was only a taste away.
Before you could complain about him taking his time, he dives in.
It wasn't often that Zoro was in a position to praise you relentlessly while his head was normally buried in your heat where you took everything so well for him. 
So, he’s learned to show you his adoration by the precise swirl of his tongue, making out with your clit and giving into every one of your demands. Groaning against your cunt as soon as he got his first taste, never quite getting his fill of it no matter how much he lapped at it.
“Zo – fuck.” The words rush out from your lungs and assimilate into the hazy tension that’s hanging in the sex-filled air. “Feels so good.”
His hands grip your thighs, throwing your legs over his shoulder before moving to grab your ass, digging into the plushness and bringing you impossibly closer as he continues his assault.
“Tastes s’fucking good.” He slurs, the sound presses directly against your clit. Zoro's attention flickered back up to you, dark and stormy eye swirling around with a primal hunger as if he couldn’t ever get enough. “My sweet girl.”
You let out a soft whine as you clutch his hair, guiding him even closer as his tongue slips into your entrance.
He keeps at it, pinching your thigh — a demanding little code he uses when he wants to hear you more. Your saccharine moans, addictingly lewd mewls, and honeyed murmurs of praise.
“Please don’t stop, ah, ‘m getting close!” There was no way Zoro would stop. Not even if he wanted to tease you, not when he was so lost in your taste that all he wanted to do was let you pull him under your current and drown in it.
He vigorously continues to lap at your entrance, attempting to collect every drop of your sweet essence. His nose nudges your clit and he can feel your thighs begin to tremble, locking his head in place. He moves to focus his attention there, the flat of Zoro’s tongue adds more pressure onto the throbbing bud.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your back raises from the mattress when Zoro collects your puffy clit in his mouth, sucking as hard as he can. You choke back a whimper, letting out a noise you’ve hardly ever released before as you claw at his head, humping his face for more.
“Zoro — fuck! Wait, it’s too much!" The words melt into an elongated moan, losing yourself to the drowsy delirium that zoro is spelling out against the bundle of nerves. He gives out a resounding grunt, gripping you tighter in encouragement. 
It’s all you need to let go.
Thank god no one else was on the ship because they might’ve heard the way you cried out his name in ultimate bliss as the taut band within you fully snapped. Zoro didn’t stop, lapping up the slick that gushed from your sweet pussy.
The bottom half of his face glistens in your arousal and he was absolutely drunk off of it as if it was a bottle of the finest sake in the world.
“Keep 'em spread open for me baby, ‘m not done yet,” Zoro said, sitting back on his haunches and taking in your already fucked out expression. “Need you to do that again.”
After sliding off his pants, he grips the base of his cock, giving it a few tentative pumps as his eyes trail back over your body, covered in a sheen of desire. 
If he didn’t crave to be inside of you so badly he would’ve come all over you, making you as messy as possible. His dick twitches at the thought, heat curling in his gut as he imagines you covered in the white of his essence.
“Zoro.” You gasp out, hands digging into the slightly sweaty sheets. The desperation and utter need that coats your husky voice almost does him in. But you’ve had too much control over him today, and he had to gain some of that back.
“Look at you.” Zoro's voice is low, dark and merciless. The deep desire that overtakes him and makes his words more gravely and coarse, sanding over your skin so gratifying it leaves your hips bucking up for more. The sight below him is surely one of his favorites and he plans on drawing it out for as long as he can. “All spread out for me in my bed, still in my clothes.”
Zoro leans forward, lightly tapping his cock against your sticky folds and nudging it through to your entrance, just resting it at your opening, not yet pushing in. His fingers dig deeper into your waist, keeping you in place before you can think about rolling your hips against him, trying to suck him in with all your might. 
“You’re so mean.” A pitiful pout rests on your pretty lips and he almost gives in. Almost. But he knows you so well by now, knows that you’re used to getting exactly what you want and it only makes him want to ruin you more. To put you in a place where all you want is him, all you crave is his touch. And you’re teetering right on the edge, only a simple nudge and you’ll be falling right into his trap. 
“Yeah?” One of his hands returns to his cock, reddened tip angrily staring at you as he starts to pump himself over your mound, spreading his precum all over his length as he preps himself for you. “That’s not going to get you what you want though.”
“Please, Zoro.” You barely breathe out, your need for him so great that it starts to turn painful, the dull ache spreading through your body like a wildfire, screaming out for relief as the flames of desire consume you. You’ve had a taste but you needed more.  The only thing that would satiate you was his cock sliding deep within you. “Please, I'm sorry. Please don’t tease me, come on.”
The whine in your voice has his dick twitching in his hand, ego fueling the blood coursing through his veins. Zoro wasn’t a power-hungry man, he never cared for it in the same way most people did. He liked being strong, he demanded respect, but never wanted to lead — to rule.
But that all changed whenever he’d have you sprawled out beneath him. feeling like the king of the world as one of the most desired women only has eyes for him, begging for his cock, yearning for his love. 
He’d give into you every time, his heart too weak to win against the love he had for you, but he tried to stave it off as much as he could.
“Only if you think you can handle it.” He smirks, tip catching against your clit, your body jolting forward. “See? You’re already so sensitive just from my mouth.”
“Dammit Zoro.” Another mewl that his cock leaps at. Frustration etches across your features, water pooling in your eyes as you continue to paw at him. It’s what he was waiting for — his pretty girl reduced to putty in his hand, ready to be played with. “Please.”
Something possesses him with the plea that pierces his heart — takes over the last cognitive brain cell he has as he lets out an exaggerated spit, the glob landing on his length.
Your breath hitches as he finally pushes himself all the way in, the stretch splitting you open to the point that no noise can come out, finally feeling full of what you’ve been waiting for all day. 
“You turned me into this — fuck — made me like this,.” Zoro swears, his arm wrapping around your back and pulling you flush against him as he feels the way your greedy cunt keeps him snugly in place.
“Are you really complaining about that?” Your voice almost slips into a whine as he pulls back out a little before bullying his way through you as your cunt accommodates his girth — eagerly welcoming him back in. 
“So tight, look at that.” He ignores your snark, opting to fixate on the way you’re swallowing him whole, slack-jawed and practically drooling over the sight. “Made for me.”
You clench at his words which rewards you with one of his sinful grunts, his head bowing slightly as you pulse around his throbbing length.
“Mhm,” You hum, digging your nails into his shoulders, little crescent moons blooming in its place. He lets out a hiss, snapping his hips all the way back in, nudging against your cervix. “Just fuck me already.”
“Always running your mouth off like a damn brat.” He glares down at you but there’s no bite to it — not with the amused crinkles that cradle his eyes with care.
“What’re you gonna do about it?” Famous last words.
But Zoro didn’t do what he usually did; flipping you over and fucking you deep in the mattress until the only thing your mouth can do is sing out his name like a mantra.
His eye held the secrets of unspoken words, a question that he refused to waste his breath on — not when he already knew how to decipher the language of his gaze.
You trust me?
As easy as breathing.
Breathy pants escape his lungs as he keeps a steady pace, looking at you. No matter how many times he’s had you under him, you never fail to weaken him.
“I think it’s time we complete your little ensemble here.” 
“Huh?” Zoro doesn’t answer you as he reaches for the Wado Ichimonji. You shift under him in anticipation.
“Relax, baby. I just want you to hold this for me.”
The heavy hilt lays in your mouth, muffling any of the moans that tried to escape it. Zoro's calloused hand runs along your cheek, down your jaw and chin as he appraises the view before him.
The look in his steely gaze was one you were familiar with but with an edge of possession — pride.
Countless times this treasured weapon has been wielded in his own mouth, fighting to protect himself, but more importantly, his crew. Seeing you laid out under him with a lust-blown look in your eye as tears brim your lashes is something else entirely.
“That's it. Keep holding onto it,” His gaze doesn’t leave yours as he slowly begins to thrust back into you. “Just like that.”
You let out a soft whine that sounded like a muffled version of his name. Compulsion drives him to quicken his pace, moving slow and steady until your body jiggles under the ferocity of each stroke.
“There you are. Keep it there for me and I'll take care of you, alright?” 
True to his word, Zoro keeps pounding into you, his other hand trailing down your body and grabbing every bit of you he can get his hand on before his fingers catch your neglected nub between them.
The way you effortlessly clean his dirty hands, having his sword fit in your mouth like this makes it feel like it’s being cleansed in the most pure form possible. Each rapid rock of his hips has your jaw clenching down against it further, all of your enticing noises are muffled by the intricately woven hilt.
“Fuck, perfect.” The praise spills out of his mouth and pools into your gut. “So fucking perfect.”
The hilt started to slip, threatening to clatter against the floor and finishing all the work he had done on it earlier. 
“Hold it.” He hisses, “Don’t let it fall.”
His hips urgently move faster, thrusting harder into you as you try your best to grip the sword in your mouth. But he knows how strenuous it can be on his teeth and jaw, so his hand slips up to cup yours. 
Once you steady the sword, his hand trails down the sheath but his eye never leaves yours. With a bated breath, he begins to slide the sheath off, watching as your eyes widen in curiosity but make no protest to stop him.
The blade was now out, facing him and gleaming under the rays of light that poured into the room from the tiny window. The sight had his hips stuttering — the element of risk now flirting with his innermost desires. 
You were perfectly safe in his arms, he was the one who should be worried. He knows how sharp those blades are, how a tiny graze could pierce his skin.
Yet the siren call of the silver glint beckons him as it sits so prettily in your mouth — a tantalizing sight. You may be the one under him but he was the one surrendering to your power.
Many more possibilities flashed in his mind, darker desires that had him pressing his chest flush against yours, the Wado Ichimonji only a few inches away from him.
But perhaps another time he could fully indulge in the temptations that swam around in his mind, wondering how far you two could go for each other.
For now, he missed kissing you, missed your lips on his, consuming the very air from his lungs and replacing it with your sweet noises that breathe him back to life. So he bends down further, expertly taking the hilt in his mouth and pulling it from yours.
He gives you a few deep thrusts before he rises up, ready to put the sword aside but your arm stops him.
The look in your eyes mirrors the same desire that licks at his gut, and he knows you two are on the same page — just like always. 
“You want me to keep it out?” Zoro can’t hide the tone of surprise in his voice as he lazily humps against your hips. You give him a shy nod. “Why?”
“It could be fun.” The way you’re looking at him right now is killing him, slowly shredding away all of his worries and pushing him into the pits of temptation. 
“It could be dangerous.”
“But isn’t that exciting?” Zoro swallows hard. It could very well be exciting, showcasing your trust for one another but…
“I don't want to hurt you.” He couldn't live with that, knowing that one of his blades had hurt you in a way you didn’t want. He'd rather slit his stomach open than do that. 
“You wouldn’t but I'll tell you if it does, I promise.” You reach up and caress his cheeks with a tenderness that has him choking for air. “Our safe word can be… sake.”
“Okay.” The unease that previously rested on his shoulders flows down his back and far away from him as he lets out a soft chuckle. “Sake it is, you ready baby?”
After a quick nod, Zoro brings the Wado back between your two joined bodies.
The cool metal kisses your skin as it trails along a precise path with absolutely zero intention to harm. But to have the infamous pirate hunter Zoro hover over you, a dark gaze latched onto the point of his katana to your skin that’s budding with gooseflesh sends a chill down your spine.
It takes everything in you not to arch at the thrill, the simple act could nick your skin and end this before it even begins.
“How's that?” Zoro's voice sounds a million miles away as your blood thrums loudly in your ear. The swordsman lets out a groan as you salaciously clench around him, his fist tightening around the hilt as he continues to glide the metal along your skin. 
“So good,” Your breath hitches as he continues to graze it over your collarbone. “Knew you wouldn’t hurt me, Zo.”
“Never.” He gruffs out, trying to keep his eye open although the fluttering of your walls tempts him to shut them in bliss. He doesn’t know how much longer he can hold out like this.
Trust could be hard to find in this new world, he was lucky to find a crew that he knew would always have his back throughout everything. but this? This was so much more than that.
To be able to have you in the most vulnerable position imaginable with a blade dancing along your skin, and enjoying it not because of the act itself, but because of the trust and respect the two of you have built for each other, growing into something he’d never dream of attaining. 
If he wasn’t careful, he could finish right now as pleasure shoots down his spine, desperately begging to fill you up. But the last thing he’d ever do was leave you ever wanting more. 
Gently putting the blade aside, he ravenously crashes back into you with a new spark of ardor — chest to chest, ferociously driving into your cunt before his lips meet yours once again.
He kissed you and tasted the familiar steel, but mixed with your sweetness that he’d never stop chasing as long any time he’d have to put this blade in his mouth.
“So fuckin’ good.” The words sink into your lips, unable to move away from you for too long. His hips erratically move now, no set rhythm as they chase the high you both desperately seek. Your nails claw into his back and force a guttural groan out of him, wanting nothing more than for you to mark up his whole body. “So fucking good for me.”
Zoro never minded pain, it came with the territory of who he is. But having you inflict it on him was the sweetest sin he’s ever known, his body bursting with pleasure as it threatens to come undone and feed into all of your desires.
“Zo-!” you gasp out, tears brimming with droplets of devotion that he can’t wait to lick up. “‘m close!”
The sweet sound of your cries only fuels him more.
“Go ahead baby, let go.” His gaze is trained on your expressions, soaking them up as it morphs into an unyielding force of pleasure.
As your back arches up into him, he’s quick to flatten his palm there, keeping you flush against him. He can feel every tremor and tremble, each of your nerves and neurons firing off and coursing through your veins.
A wave of ecstasy crashes over your body, freezing each of your limbs in place and threatens to drag you to oblivion. 
“Almost there, just a little longer.” Zoro pumps into you, your cunt clamping down on him to the point he almost has to pull out as you squirt all over his lower half and the already messed up sheets. “That’s it, fuck yes-“
Zoro begins to release in your cunt with a grunt of your name, letting you milk his cock as his body shudders in the eternal bliss you so readily provide him. He pulls out at the last rope of cum, letting it land on your mound before he nudged your clit with his softening cock, ensuring to make a mess all over your pussy.
“Zoro!” your body jolts, fingers gripping his bicep. “‘m sensitive.”
“Then come here baby.” Zoro pulls you into his strong arms, carefully eyeing the blade that was still unsheathed and still set aside. 
Zoro's calloused fingers catch your earlobe, gently massaging it as he inspects it.
“You know, you still need one more piece.” Zoro's gaze is intense as it sets on you. His hands trail down your body, lightly massaging it as he works his way down in a soothing manner.
“Yeah? And what’s that?”
“When the others get back, we’re going into town so we can get you your own pair of earrings.” He gives your thigh a gentle squeeze. “Just like me.”
“Really?” The mind fogginess of the shared desire breaks away from the way beams of light emit when you smile at him.
He nods, brushing his lips alongside the temple of your head. Zoro presses his nose into your hair and inhales it.
“Quit sniffing me.” You let out an amused scoff.
“Nah, you just smell so damn good like this.” His lips move to kiss along your face, pressing into your neck before inhaling once again.
“You mean sweaty?”
“Drenched in sweat, arousal and me.” His voice is low in your ear and you crinkle your nose at the strange, but endearing compliment.
“Freak.” You tease, snuggling into him, feeling the way his muscles ripple around you in his strong, unrelenting hold.
“Takes one to know one.” He chuckles, feeling his body start to settle from the intensity of his high, melting into you and the mattress as a nap threatens to take hold. But he just had one more question. “So, if you’re dressed as me, does that mean you can drink sake as well as me?”
“Maybe we should find out.”
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tags: @thesunxwentblack @autumnstuffs
592 notes ¡ View notes
ram-bles ¡ 13 days ago
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HELLOOOO
I got a silly little ask, just a drabble from you would be fine 😁
Like- the reader (gender neutral) wasn't very open about their hobbies and such. One of their hobbies was like martial arts or smth (THIS IS VERY CRUCIAL ☝️☝️☝️)
Wellll, one day Jimmy (🤮) decided to try and touch the reader inappropriately and they just throw him over their shoulder saying something along the lines of "Do NOT touch me."
I KNOW IT'S CRINGE BUT PLEASEEEE, IT WOULD BE SO FUNNY 🙏🙏🙏🙏
I saw you're writing for only Curly and Daisuke, but if you wanna you can add other characters into the mix. It's all platonic, just a silly little ask cuz I wanna laugh 😁😁😁
[ Tulpar Crew & Reader ]
Oh I love this one. Also this reminded me to update my list thank u 4 unintentionally reminding me anon.,.,. ALSO DONT WORRY I DONT THINK IT'S CRINGE !
gender neutral reader, it gets silly later on i promise. not proof-read. wrote this really quick.
⚠️ tw: stalking, jimmy being a little too forward and close
The day was pretty much mundane, like always. Everyone was in their designated work stations, including you of course. Though, something felt off. It had been like this for the past week, and you hated it. You even blamed your lack of sleep for it. It seemed like there was something— someone, watching and following you when you were alone.
One time, you'd even woken up to the sound of your quarter's door closing. You stayed up all night, not wanting to inconvenience the other crew members for what you think might just be all in your head. Well, that is until psych evaluation day came and you opened up about this to Anya who so easily believed you, but seemed so uncomfortable with the topic. You decided not to pry out of respect. She offers her company when you need it.
That same night, Daisuke offered to host a game session to which everyone reluctantly agreed to.
Establishing good bonds between workers is key to an efficient working environment!
Anya, Swansea and Daisuke were sitting by the sofa, Curly dragged a chair just beside the game table, whilst you and Jimmy sat beside each other on the floor. The game involved four players and the crew decided that whoever loses first has to swap with whoever hasn't played yet for the next rounds. The game was getting heated, Daisuke and Anya, neck on neck. Unfortunately, not the only thing neck on neck. Everyone else was too focused on the game to even notice what Jimmy was doing. You can feel his breath against your skin. You eyed the others in hopes that they would see. Too busy. Annoyed and grossed out, you elbowed his ribs in warning, glaring at him. "Jimmy, don't touch me." He seems pissed, but that doesn't deter him from getting his entertainment. Jimmy presses on and you swear you felt your eyebrows twitch. The balls of this guy to even do this here.
Daisuke throws the dice, the three leans in in anticipation as they watch it slowly roll to a stop and—
CRASH!
Some game pieces flew in different directions, two table legs snapping from the force and Jimmy's weight. It was radio silent for a moment. The crew having different variations of shocked expressions. You had grabbed his arm and flipped his body onto the furniture.
"Fuckin' pervert. Are you deaf, or what? I said do NOT touch me."
Daisuke threw his hands up in the air and settled it on each side of his head, frustrated. "Oh, come on, man! I was so close to winni—!" His whining ceases when Swansea nudges him, instantly shutting up and processing what had just happened. It took a few blinks for him to register and he eventually bursts out laughing and pointing at Jimmy. It took everything from Swansea not to burst out laughing as well. Instead, he crosses his arms and huffs with a proud smile. 'Atta' kid.'
Anya on the other hand slips out a gasp, covering her mouth. Mostly out of shock, and no sympathy for the man whatsoever. When the other intern started laughing, she had to bite her lip and look away to suppress her own fit.
[ History of glenohumeral joint subluxation.
It happened way too fast for Jimmy to even process what just happened. He spits out something hard, probably a tooth. His shoulder slightly stings as well, probably dislocated. He'll get back at you some other time, he can't get back at you when everyone else is here and that pisses him off even more.
Curly had mixed feelings. But of course, he prioritizes his role and he has to mediate everything first and foremost. Rubbing his face, he sighs and stands up, putting his hands on his hips. He calls your name and you tilted your head to look up at him. "I have to discuss... this with you later on. Please drop by the cockpit, yeah?" You roll your eyes and nod, pouting. "Swansea, could we borrow your intern real quick?"
"Shift's over, go ahead."
He gives the eldest a nod. "Daisuke, please assist Anya. Help her bring Jimmy to medical."
"Youuuuu got it, Big C." He finger guns towards the captain then stands up to hover over the co-pilot. Curly could only give Daisuke an awkward smile at the nickname.
"Never call him that again."
"El Capitano." Daisuke helps Jimmy up, making sure he's pulling them up by the injured arm, making the man grit his teeth and groan in pain. Before the guy could even cuss at the intern, Swansea continued bickering.
"Do your damn job."
"Yessir. Swansir."
Anya and Daisuke finally went off the bring the poor injured co-pilot to treat him. And if you'd like to know, Anya taught Daisuke how to pull Jimmy's shoulder back to place. Yes, everyone heard him when it happened.
You helped Swansea clean up the mess by the lounge and in apology, offered to help repair the table the next day. He agrees and even offers Daisuke to assist you.
Curly had to lightly reprimand you for your actions, but you'd explained to him what happened. The best he could do for you for now is lie on the report.
Sustained through occupational accident.
Employee confirmed inebriated while working.
Property damage docked to Jimmy.]
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shy-writer-999 ¡ 1 month ago
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Summary: You and Zoro take advantage of an empty ship. Or at least, you think it’s empty. Ft. a healthy serving of Zosan. I think this is my best for October by far… 3k words.
CW: Afab reader, gendered language (“pretty girl”), non-consensual voyeurism, pathetic horny Sanji behavior, dirty talk, P in V, masturbation.
MINORS DNI. NSFW CONTENT.
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Finally, the Thousand Sunny docked on land. The crew was restless to get off the boat and go explore. Nami and Robin were going to go shopping, but you declined, feigning exhaustion. Zoro made the excuse that he was going to stay on the ship and train some more. Properly excused, you and Zoro finally had time alone together. The ship was empty and it was a gorgeous day. You hadn’t had time to sneak off together in a couple days and you both were going crazy with desire.
As soon as the coast was clear, Zoro dragged you to the dimly lit men’s sleeping quarters and crashed his lips onto yours. He closed the door and pinned you up against it, biting on your lip, feeling your waist, hips, and ass, hands reaching upwards to massage your chest, lips wandering to suck harshly on your neck. He was ravenous, starving for you.
Zoro quickly peeled off your top and bra, and you shimmied out of your pants. He freed himself of his clothes and picked you up by your waist, carrying you over to his bed. His starving kisses continued, and he positioned himself on top of you—his hard erection started to rut on your stomach and thighs.
When Zoro pulled away from you, his eyes were on fire with need. He picked up his black bandana from the pile of clothes on the floor. Manhandling you with ease, he maneuvered you up by the headboard. He held your hands together and looped his bandana firmly around them, fixing you to the wood. The position was uncomfortable.
Positioning you just how he wanted, he pushed your thighs and knees up so they were propped and spread, exposing your bare core. You couldn’t move your hands at all with Zoro’s bandana wrapped around them, and your legs were spread so wide that the angle felt embarrassing.
Zoro took in the view, proudly. He leaned forward and braced one hand on the headboard next to yours. Putting his other hand on your waist, he leaned in to kiss you. The shaft of his cock rubed back and forth on your folds, building heat and snagging on your clit.
“Zoro,” you moaned his name as the tip of his cock dragged over your sensitive spot. You were already wet, needy for him after seconds of friction.
“You want it, baby?” His voice was gravelly and deep already, greedy desire seeping through every word.
When you locked eyes with him and nodded vigorously, he lined the red and weeping head of his cock up with your entrance and began to press it into you. He stared at his shaft disappearing inside of you, swallowing up his girth like it was nothing.
The thick wiry hair at the base of his cock finally met with your flesh as he bottomed out inside of you. He let out a loud and delicious groan. “Fuucckkkk.”
As Zoro’s grip on your waist tightened, you pulled on his bandana and struggled, trying to push down on his cock, trying to fuck yourself with it—you were relatively unsuccessful, going crazy with need.
“You look so fuckin’ hot tied up for me,” Zoro purred in your ear as he began to move his hips slowly. You were starting to make a mess of your thighs and his cock, matting down the ring of hair at the base of his shaft with your slick. “Your little cunt is so wet already, baby.”
Zoro picked up the pace and obscene sounds started to echo in the room as his cock rhythmically rammed into you. “Juuuussst like that. You’re takin’ me so well, fuck.”
About fifteen feet away, Sanji stirred awake, roused from sleep by the wet sounds of Zoro fucking your cunt and his deep growls.
Sanji usually wasn’t one for napping, but the night before he had cooked a huge feast and cleaned the whole kitchen. He was exhausted. He planned on sleeping for a few hours before going into town to grab supplies that night—but he was rudely awakened by you and Zoro going at it like animals in heat.
As Sanji’s ears adjusted to the foreign noise, his heart started to beat faster. He realized what it was. Sanji’s breath hitched and blush took over his cheeks—he was shocked. He didn’t want to open his eyes or move to cause attention, so he held still and listened for a moment. He was totally awake by now, and each grunt and slap he heard from the pair of you made him harder. After a few minutes of listening to you have sex, Sanji’s cock was twitching and fully erect, forming a tent in the covers of his bed.
He didn’t know what to do. Should he just lay there until the pair of you were done, and then pretend like he was sleeping the whole time? Or would it be better if he got up and just ran out of the room? His cock was aching already, hard as a rock. He could touch himself right now, and neither of you would know, if he did it carefully…
At one particularly deep grunt from Zoro, Sanji snuck his hand down as inconspicuously as he could to palm his raging boner through his underwear. The friction from the fabric on his cock felt like fire, pleasure increased by the fact that he was touching himself mere feet away from you two, who obviously had the impression that he wasn’t there. He grinded his palm down, over his shaft, producing small waves of euphoria.
He knew it was wrong. He felt disgusted with himself, but he couldn’t stop touching his cock, it felt too good.
Sanji could tell that precum was already seeping out of his tip. His heart started to flutter every time one of you made a noise. He couldn’t take it any longer. He turned his head gently to the side and stared at the pair of you, sneaking a hand into his underwear to stroke his bare shaft while he watched.
“You’re so fucking tight,” Zoro groaned as his cock plunged into you with a squelch. “You like how my cock feels, baby? You wanna cream on it?”
Sanji’s hand grasped the base of his shaft, holding it there for a second, stopping the blood flow so it throbbed and jumped. He felt repulsive for getting off on this, but fuck, it felt good.
“Mmmm, Zoro, please, fuck me harder.” You sighed sweetly and it made Sanji's heart thump.
Zoro’s grunting got Sanji so hard it was unreal. His heart flipped as he watched Zoro’s muscular body roll into yours, admiring how each toned muscle rippled with minimal effort. Zoro’s brows were furrowed, his muscles were tense, flexed, and all his attention was laser focused on you. Likewise, you just looked up at him and begged him to fuck you more, fuck you harder, and fuck you deeper. You were desperate for it, pleading for more of Zoro’s cock.
Sanji’s eyes darted from Zoro’s toned body to your tits bouncing from each thrust of Zoro’s hips. He stared at Zoro’s girthy cock sliding in and out of your glistening core with ease and his eyes widened when he realized how big Zoro’s cock really was. He noticed that you were tied up with Zoro’s bandana and he was shocked but wildly turned on as you struggled against your restraints.
He hadn't known that you and Zoro were actually intimate, but he had long suspected it. This was fulfilling some sort of fantasy for him. Not only was he ferociously attracted to you, but he recently started to get flustered any time the mosshead yelled at him or got up in his face. He was in denial about it, but he sort of, no, he really thought Zoro was hot when he was angry. Seeing the swordsman grunt and plow his cock into your folds made his heart pound.
Sanji didn’t think that seeing you two fuck would have this dramatic of an effect on him, but his hand felt amazing around his cock. Some of it was definitely that neither you nor the swordsman knew that Sanji was getting off on the sight, and that it was sickening of him to indulge in his lust like this… but he was at his wit’s end. He bit his lip to keep the sound in, tried to stifle it as much as he could, but a small, barely audible whine slipped out.
Zoro’s head snapped and pinpointed Sanji immediately, registering that the blonde cook was fucking his hand under the covers. Zoro had half a mind to go over there and wring his neck, but something about being watched made his cock jump. Instead, he smirked and jerked his hips harder.
You were too fucked out at this point to notice. The only thing you could focus on was Zoro’s cock bullying your g-spot relentlessly. You were so overcome with pleasure that you had lost all touch with reality. Your eyes were glossy, your jaw was slack, and the moans tumbled out of your lips in a constant stream.
Each nasty thing Zoro said wrenched more pleasure from both you and Sanji. He needed to rub it in the cook’s face, to rub in the fact that you were his, and to rub in the fact that Sanji talked shit but was masturbating right now like some perverted brat. Was he really that depraved?
“That shitty cook is getting a real good look at you baby, watching me fuck you.” Zoro growled and locked his pussy-drunk eyes with Sanji, who was now stroking his fist shamelessly with the covers pulled away. “Yeah, idiot? Getting off on seeing me fuck her? Pervert.”
Sanji twisted his hand around the head of his cock, swiping up the pooling precum and pulled it down his shaft. He let out another whine at the wet sensation, wishing that he could be buried inside of you right now instead of touching himself.
When Zoro spoke down to him, it got him off. He didn’t know why, but it felt good when the swordsman called him an idiot and a pervert, especially when he could see his cock slide in and out of you. He also didn’t know why Zoro hadn’t come over and attacked him yet.
Zoro doubled down on the dirty talk, addressing you with particularly filthy words. “You’re milking my cock so good in front of him, baby. Get yourself all messy so he can see it.”
His voice was husky and voracious. He was getting wrapped up in the feeling of your walls clenching and throbbing around him, and the sight of Sanji fucking his fist. You hummed in response to Zoro’s praise, cunt clenching around his girth, and it spurred him on.
“Am I making you feel good, pretty girl? Tell me how good it feels so Sanji can hear it.” Zoro emphasized Sanji’s name. The cook’s heart did a flip—his mouth was hanging open now and his cock was pulsing.
While Sanji watched, Zoro reached two fingers and shoved them in your mouth. You were practically drooling from pleasure. He pressed his fingers down your throat so forcefully that you gagged on them.
Zoro groaned—he loved that sound and loved playing with your body like that. When he took his fingers out, a strand of spit connected his fingertips to your lips. He sucked his fingers clean and leaned into your face, fucking you deeper.
“Does it feel good when he watches you, sweetheart? You like the shit cook touching himself while you get fucked dumb by my cock? Getting so wet and dirty for me, I like making you feel good.” Again, Zoro emphasized the last few words. His eyes locked on Sanji’s and the cook’s heart skipped a beat—the last few words of that sentence felt like they were for Sanji, too. Like Zoro liked making Sanji feel good.
The cook stroked himself faster and dug his thumb into his slit a bit, drawing out more pearly white precum. The pressure made his hips buck.
Zoro’s voice got louder as the pace of his hips increased; by now, they were spasming into your cunt, fucking you at breakneck speed. His eyes were riveted on Sanji’s for the good majority of the time. You matched the swordsman’s volume and writhed in ecstasy.
“F-feels good, Zoro. Don’t stop. Feels good.” You keened his name and arched your back.
“Mmhmm? Does it? Cum on my cock, sweetheart. Wanna make that little pussy feel so fucking good. Want Sanji to see how much you like it. Bet he wishes it was him.”
The cook’s heart pattered and you attempted to mewl out a response to Zoro, but you almost couldn’t get out a word. You started babbling incoherent nonsense like the fucked-out wreck you were.
“Your c-cock, ‘Zo, Zoro, feels so—so good I can’t—too good, ‘m gonna cum—make me—fuck.”
“Cream for me, gorgeous. Show Sanji how good you feel.” Zoro’s hips convulsed as your walls clenched around his cock again. He moaned as your walls squeezing him, producing a sound more desperate and feral than Sanji had heard before. “You like that, cook? You like watching us?”
Sanji whimpered with an eager nod out and stroked faster. He felt like he was going to pass out from pleasure—the way Zoro was talking to him felt charged and erotic, like he was trying to get Sanji riled up.
You were at your limit.
“C-cum—fuck, Zoro, cum in me,” you spat out the words with the utmost effort. "'m so close."
One last thrust of Zoro’s cock and you were in toe-curling ecstasy, writhing on his shaft, pulling on the bandana, and mewling so loudly it could have been heard across the whole ship.
“That’s it, just like that, baby, fuck, your pussy is so good, fuck, fuchhhccckkkk.” The sight of you cumming from his cock was the last thing Zoro needed before he joined you in bliss.
Shaking uncontrollably from his orgasm, he pumped milky white ropes inside and you could feel it filling you up. There was so much of his seed that it was starting to drip out of you.
Moments after Zoro, Sanji came. He was thinking about fucking you while Zoro watched, and how that would feel. Would the swordsman sit up in a chair and stroke his cock slowly while you rode Sanji? Would you straddle the cook or wrap your legs around him while Zoro touched himself at the end of the bed? Would he throw his head back and groan as sweetly as he had just now?
Sanji’s mind wandered to previously un-indulged in thoughts—what if Zoro fucked him while you watched and fingered yourself? Would he watch your fingers pass in and out of your cunt while Zoro’s huge cock brushed his g-spot? Would the swordsman encourage or degrade him? What would Zoro feel when his name trickled out of Sanji’s mouth? What would it feel like for the swordsman to fill him with cum?
When the cook came all over his hands and abdomen, his hips jerked up, pulling his pelvis up off the mattress. He came loudly and explosively, letting out a lewd, drawn-out whine. Unbeknownst to him, the sound made Zoro’s cock twitch. The swordsman (in denial) ascribed that to his orgasm (though it had passed already).
Zoro practically fell forward onto you, panting there with heaving breaths before he regained composure and untied your hands.
He kissed you passionately for what felt like a long time, and then stood on shaky legs and scooped you up to take you to the bathroom. “Our turn first, shit cook.” Zoro smirked and carted you off, walking out like nothing weird happened. Your eyes were half-closed and a soft smile played on your lips as you waved bye to Sanji.
The blonde couldn’t even help but admire Zoro’s backside as he walked away. Fuck, he was just so toned and tan and hairy and… manly. His mouth went dry with the realization that damn, he really did want to Zoro to fuck him. Or vice versa. Fuck.
Sanji thought about that incident for months afterwards and developed a habit of touching himself to the scenarios he imagined. He was particularly taken with the idea of Zoro’s cock in him while you finger fucked yourself.
And interestingly enough, when Zoro touched himself he thought of your cunt around his shaft and the sight of Sanji fucking his fist. The cook’s eyes looked animalistic that day, his cock was so red and dripping with precum, your moans had been deafening, Sanji’s whimpers were kind of…
Suffice it to say, the three of you had no problem with this occasion and each of you thought that you would like it to happen again. The only issue was how to go about that.
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*whistles* sheesh!! i greatly enjoyed writing this one. i've been looking forward to posting it for ages (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ i hope you enjoyed it!
here's my masterlist and my posting schedule for october!
finally, trick or treat? (tumblr links)
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