#I NEED TO MAKE A POLAR PATCH

[nina-ya]

Synopsis: It's your first time seeing snow and you decide to make the most of the day until you wander off from the group and Law finds you admiring the scenery. Pairing: Law x reader CW: fluff, first kisses!! • ficmas masterlist • ko-fi • discord server •

The first snowfall of your life felt like stepping into a dream. Each flake tumbled gently from the sky, blanketing the island in a glistening white, transforming the island into something out of a storybook. Everything about this day made your chest flutter with an excitement that you couldn’t quite put into words.

You were barely two steps on land before diving into the snow, your laughter ringing out as you flopped onto your back in a pristine patch of snow. Sweeping your arms and legs back and forth, you formed a snow angel, grinning up at the sky as you worked. When you sat up to admire your new creation, you caught sight of Law standing a short distance away with amusement etched across his features. 

“Not bad,” he remarked as he glanced between you and your creation. 

“Not bad?” you repeated, feigning offense before flashing him a teasing grin. “I’d like to see you do better. Come on, make one!” 

Law raised an eyebrow at your challenge, muttering a ‘maybe later’ under his breath. You rolled your eyes, laughing as you dusted off your gloves. “You’re no fun,” you teased before bounding off to find your next snowy adventure. 

Your enthusiasm was infectious, drawing everyone around you into your antics. Snowball fights erupted with chaotic energy, your laughter mixing with yelps as you narrowly dodged some perfectly aimed throws. You sculped a lopsided snowman, its crooked grin and mismatched arms earning a beaming smile from you as you showed it off. When you weren’t building or battling, you were tilting your head back and catching snowflakes on your tongue. 

The day wore on, and some crew members retreated to the warmth of the Polar Tang, while others stayed behind longer. You were just about to join those going towards the warmth until you caught sight of something shimmering through the woods. 

It was just a glimmer, subtle and fleeting, but it tugged at your curiosity. A light? Ice? Something hidden in the forest? You couldn’t tell, but you didn’t think twice before wandering off and trudging through the snow toward the source.

Eventually, you emerged into a small clearing, and you let out a soft gasp. A frozen lake stretched out before you, its surface gleaming under the pale light of the late afternoon. The surrounding trees were dusted with snow, their reflections faintly visible in the ice, and the scene looked like something pulled straight from a dream. 

You stepped onto the ice cautiously, the crunch of snow now replaced with the faint creak of frozen water beneath your boots. The chill bit at your exposed arms, but you hardly noticed, too entranced by the beauty before you. You stared in awe at the surroundings, soaking in the moment in bliss, thinking nothing could ruin something as perfect as this. 

That was until one voice came and shattered the peace as it cut through. “Are you out of your mind?” 

You spun around startled to find him standing at the edge of the lake, his figure stark against the snowy backdrop. You could barely make out his expression to be something caught in between exasperation and disbelief at you. 

“What happened to your coat?” he asked, tone sharp as he started making his way towards the center of the ice where you were. 

“It was holding me back,” you replied flippantly, crossing your arms as if to emphasize your point. 

Law’s brow twitched. “Holding you back?”

“Yeah,” you said with a shrug, trying to sound nonchalant even as the cold began to seep into your bones. “It got caught on a branch, and well, I figured I didn’t need it.”

“Well you figured wrong,” he snapped back, voice losing some of the calm it once held. “You’re going to freeze to death out here.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but a shiver wracked your body, cutting you off. Law’s frown deepened, and he stepped closer.

“Don’t tell me you’re not cold,” he said, his voice low and firm. “You’re freezing. Come here.”

Before you could protest, he opened his coat, revealing the warm lining inside and gestured for you to step closer. The size of the coat didn't surprise you, as Law always seemed to favor clothes that dwarfed him, but what did surprise you was the way he pulled you into his chest, wrapping the heavy fabric around both of you.

The warmth was immediate, his body heat radiating through the layers and chasing away the chill that had settled into your skin. His arms circled you, holding the coat closed around you and you reveled in the comfort. 

“Better?” he asked, voice less harsh. You nodded and murmured a ’thanks’ in response. “Let’s get back to the others, you’ve had your fun for the day.”

You leaned back to look up at him, your eyes wide and pleading. “Can we stay a little longer?”

His brows furrowed, lips parting in an attempt to argue back, but you pressed on quickly, your tone insistent. “The sun’s about to set, and I want to see what this place looks like at night. Just a little longer, please?”

Law glanced around at the frozen lake and the woods that surrounded it. The temperature was already brutal and he knew it would only get worse as the night settled. “It’s going to get even colder,” he pointed out, tone sharp as he attempted to reason with you. 

“I know,” you said, your voice tinged with desperation and excitement. “But just look at it, Law. The way the ice catches the light, the way the trees frame everything so prettily. I just… I just want to see it under the stars. Please.” 

Your eyes met his, wide and shimmering with sincerity, and for a moment he was at a loss. Logic dictated that he should insist you leave and drag you back to warmth if he had to, but the look in your eyes shattered any logic he had in his mind. 

With a long sigh, he relented. “Fine. But we’re not staying on the ice. Come on.”

He guided you off the frozen lake, hand firm on your arm as he led you to a small patch of dirt nestled between the snow-covered trees. The area offered a clear view of the lake and the horizon beyond, and the ground was a much more comfortable spot to sit. 

He pulled you down with him as he lowered himself to the ground and you got comfortable as you settled into wait. The sun dipped lower in the sky, painting the world in oranges, purples, and reds, bouncing the colors off of the lake as the surface shimmered with the last rays of sunlight. 

The first stars began to emerge as the sky deepened into twilight, their faint twinkles growing stronger with each passing moment. You sighed in contentment, murmuring ‘It’s perfect’, more to yourself than anything. 

The stars above glittered like scattered diamonds, and you sat bathing in their glow, your breath puffing into the crisp air as your wide eyes scanned the constellations. Law hadn’t intended to linger, much less to find himself utterly captivated. Yet here he was, his attention irrevocably anchored to you.

He caught himself entranced by the small things: the gentle curve of your jaw, the way your eyes were wide, alight with a child-like wonder that shimmered with the reflected glow of the stars. The way the night wrapped itself around you, painting you in muted blues and silvers, made you seem untouchable. And yet, there you were, close enough that each puff of breath that you released towards the night sky mingled with the warm breaths of his own. 

You reached a hand towards the heavens, fingers outstretched as though you could pluck a star from its celestial perch, and when the illusion faded into your palm, your soft and breathless laughter filled the silence.

Law’s gaze softened further, lingering on the curve of your face, the way your breath puffed into the air like tiny clouds. His eyes lingered on your lips, softly parted as you signed in contentment, and he found himself captivated by their softness, their unspoken pull. To put it simply, he was mesmerized, caught in a moment where only you remained. 

It was rare for Law to let himself linger like this, to let his thoughts wander without restraint, but at that moment, your body pressed against his, he allowed himself to memorize you. To etch this instance into the depths of his mind, knowing it was a memory he would hold onto long after the cold had faded. 

Before he realized it, his hand moved of its own accord. Fingers brushed a few stray flakes of snow from your hair, the movement catching your attention. You turned to face him, and his breath hitched at the sight of your curious eyes meeting his. 

“What?” you asked, a soft laugh escaping your lips, a smile tugging at the edges. 

Law hesitated, his mouth parting as if to speak, but no words came. Instead, he shook his head, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Nothing,” he murmured, his voice lower than intended. “Just thinking.”

“About?” you pressed, playful and unguarded.

He swallowed, the air suddenly feeling too thin. He should have deflected, should have buried the words threatening to spill over, but instead, the truth fumbled from his lips in an accidental confession. 

“You.”

That one little word seemed to suspend the moment in time. You blinked, your lips parting as his answer settled over you. “Me?” you murmured, your voice soft and almost unsure, as though saying it too loudly might make this whole moment go away in an instant. 

Law didn’t respond. Not immediately, at least. His heart stuttered and he opened his mouth, but words failed him as his golden eyes, softened by the starlight, flitted from your questioning eyes to the faint quiver of your lips. The silence stretched out and he seemed like a man frozen in time, caught in a trap of vulnerability that he didn’t intend to expose.

A shiver coursed through you, and it snapped him from his trance. His arms tightened reflexively, moving to pull his coat closer around you. The movement was meant to shield you from the biting cold, but instead, it brought you both even closer. The press of your bodies was no longer incidental but undeniable. 

The breath you exhaled wavered as the sudden proximity left neither of you room to escape. Your hands, once bunched up in fists wrapped around you, now lay against his chest while his hands froze at your sides mid-movement, as though he too had just realized just how close you'd become. You could feel his heart beneath your fingers beat in a rapid rhythm that matched your own. Neither of you breathed. Neither of you dared to. 

Your eyes flickered to his lips, a breath away, the distance so small you feared even taking in a gulp of air would close the gap. The world narrowed to the warmth of your breaths mingling, his faint scent, and the feeling of the winter air kissing your skin. 

You couldn’t tell who leaned in first. Perhaps it was both of you. Or maybe the universe itself conspired to close the gap. All you knew was that the moment his lips brushed yours, the rest of the world fell away. 

The kiss started off as a question rather than a statement, as though both of you were unsure whether to continue. But that hesitation dissolved the moment you melted into him, your lips parting to welcome the warmth he offered. 

His lips were soft and tasted faintly of the coffee he had not too long ago, mixed with something that was wholly, undeniably Law. His hand rose to cradle the side of your face, thumb brushing against your cheekbone with a tenderness that made your stomach flip. 

You leaned into his touch, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you kissed him back, deeper this time. The cold seemed to vanish entirely, replaced with the heat blooming between you. His tongue brushed against your bottom lip, and when you parted for him, he seized the moment to deepen the kiss as his tongue brushed against yours. His taste was intoxicating, heady and consuming, and the way he kissed you, left you breathless. 

The moments blurred, reduced to the press of his lips, the muffled sounds that slipped past both of your lips and the faint crunch of snow beneath your shifting bodies. You wanted to draw this out as long as you could, not wanting it to end. 

When you finally broke apart, it wasn't out of desire, but necessity. Your breaths came in soft pants, visible in the air as the cold rushed back to remind you of its presence. His forehead rested against yours, and you could see Law’s lips quirk into the faintest of smiles as his eyes searched yours for a confirmation that you enjoyed that as much as he did. 

It was you who broke the silence when you asked between pants, “Do we… have to go back yet?” A smile stretched across your lips as you finished the question, the sight alone dissolving any final pesky bits of tension that may have been floating in the air. 

His smile widened, and he let out a huff of laughter as he wrapped his arms tighter around you, pulling you flush against his chest. “Not if you let me keep you warm a bit longer,” he responded. 

Such words of affection felt foreign coming from him, but you did not complain one bit as you settled into his hold, leaning into the warmth he provided. You giggled, the sound light and airy, as you leaned in again and captured his lips in yours. 

The stars above glittered on, indifferent to the magic folding just beneath them, but you couldn’t help but feel that they were shining extra brightly for just the two of you.

[elodieunderglass]

Honestly thought I'd never hear the word "usborne" again. My mom used to live and breathe that company, and while I certainly don't regret a fair chunk, I do find it amusing as I look back now. I legitimately thought it had fallen off faster than Juice+.

In reference to a post where i mention my kid has the usborne “see inside germs” book.

So if people don’t know, usborne is a weird publishing company that has done indispensable books for British children for generations; they’re in every library, school and nursery, and have shelves devoted to them in every bookstore. They are how many people learned to read, and are the originators of many hyper focuses. They’re famed for doing educational lift the flap books for all ages, like “see inside your body”, as well as as the ubiquitous touch-and-feel series, “that’s not my….” In which a mouse comments improbably on various creatures not being their creature. “That’s not my dragon,” the mouse says, inviting you to stroke a dragon with a patch of fur on it, “its tummy is too soft. That’s not my dragon,” on the next page, where the dragon’s ears are lined with textured paper, “its ears are too bumpy.” This seems like such an inefficient way to find one’s missing dragon, a fact that simmers underneath you through endless repetition. Why does the mouse own so many things (pirates, ducks, polar bears) and why is it interrogating other people’s pirates etc by feeling their legs.

At any rate, turn a parents’ house upside down and these books fall out.

Which is why it’s completely hilarious that they are also an MLM.

Well. Kind of. In the old school sense. It’s less about signing up a pyramid scheme and more about getting a random citizen to buy a crate of perfectly popular books and try to sell them on from their home. It’s very traditional for Mums On Maternity Leave to do this. Pre-social media and online ordering, they’d hook up other mums at toddler group. Today, they post awkwardly on social media. The idea is that buying from another parent is cheaper than the bookstore, and they get to keep the markup. They get intense about things, and I believe they attend conferences. Nobody makes a huge amount of money and it’s unclear how undercutting local bookstores is helpful; it’s also basically the same RRP as Amazon I think.

And the books are perfectly respectable and sell perfectly well in bookstores.

So. Like. This marketing scheme is completely weird. Why?? Why does it still exist? People buy the books normally! You don’t need to promote them aggressively! You don’t need elaborate independent local middlemen schemes! You can just buy them! I have never understood this. I just file it under one of those weird mat leave hustles.

But don’t worry OP. They’re still going. They’ll never stop. The thing is that your mom got bored and online sales probably ate whatever residual profit margins were left and it’s probably very liberating for everyone to grow out of the “that’s not my cow” stage, but Usborne books are going strong.

[theemissuniverse]

“THE HEART AND THE HEAD” HENRY HART X SCIENTIST FEM! READER

SUMMARY : You and Henry are polar opposites but Henry couldn’t care less. (Based on movie Henry so Henry is 24.) Reader is also based on Harper from Wizards of Waverly outfit wise.

WARNINGS : explicit content. Reader is meant to be on the plus size but it really doesn’t matter I don’t think

MASTERLIST

Ever since Henry moved to Dystopia, he had to get used to the weird characters he would come across. That included you, the quirky but insanely intelligent scientist he just happened to met.

It was all by chance. He ended up saving you from a burglary. And ever since then, the two of you were inseparable.

The two of you clicked, despite your differences. There honestly wasn’t anything about the two of that was the same and yet, the two of were stuck together like glue.

He appreciated how different you were. Your weirdness attracted him to you. Not to mention you could match his sarcasm well.

And he liked it.

The only thing you hated about Henry was how heroic he was. He took risks. Being impulsive was a trait you did not appreciate when it came to him.

And it was showing right now.

“Ah, shit.”

“Hold still.”

Right now you were patching Henry up from his recent fight. Henry ended up defeating the guy with the ability to control fire but he ended up with some battle wounds to show it.

You were cleaning out the wound down towards his abdomen. Henry could hear the attitude in your voice. “You’re mad at me.”

“I’m not mad.”

“You’re mad at me.”

“I’m mad at the things that you do now hush.”

Henry hissed a little, feeling you clean the wound with chemicals. He saw you were having a hard time cleaning it with his shirt on. “I can take it off.”

You paused, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “No, it’s fine.”

“Here, let me.” Henry pulled the shirt over him anyway, and tossed it to the side.

You always knew Henry had a nice body but seeing it up close and in person did something to you. You bit your lip, mumbling a quick “thanks” before going back to work.

Henry didn’t say anything. He just admired you. He knew he was developing feelings for you. He wasn’t stupid. He could recognize it. How could he not?

You were beautiful, intelligent, brave, caring, funny. All traits he loved in a woman. He was trying to push it away because he respected the relationship he had with you. You two were partners, helping get crime off the streets.

But he didn’t want to push it away though.

You were clearly going through making one of your crazy outfits that you always did. Today, you were wearing a dress made out of crayola markers. Yes, the dress would’ve been bizarre to anyone else but there was something about your uniqueness and you being unapologetically you that made you attractive to Henry.

Henry was looking you up and down, checking you out as if you were half naked and the hottest girl in the room. You could wear the stupidest of clothing to anyone else but to him you’d still be attractive.

As you cleaned the wound, you felt his eyes on you. When you looked up, you saw Henry was looking at you, dead in the eyes.

When you first met Henry, he was a nice guy. A little sassy at times but he was humorous and good and you needed a guy like that at the time. In a place like Dystopia, you had to treasure men like that.

Then Henry started to get a little flirtatious with you. You couldn’t tell if he was serious or just playing around so you’d always ignore his advances.

This time you didn’t think you could ignore it.

You looked away from him and focused on the wound. “I’m almost done cleaning it.”

Henry wouldn’t let you look away. He lifted your chin up and forced you to look at him. “I’m sorry, okay? Stop being mad.”

His voice was a little playful but you felt the sincerity in his voice which made it tug at the strings of your heart a little. “What you did was too much.”

“I know but you know I’m on autopilot when I get into the action.”

You sighed, knowing this about him. “You have a good heart, Henry.” You placed your hand over his heart. “But sometimes we need to use this.” You pointed at his head. “Because if we don’t then this.” You placed your hand back over his heart. “Doesn’t matter.”

Henry gripped your hand when you placed it. “I don’t need that. That’s what I got you for.”

You let out a smile, tilting your head at the former sidekick. When he spoke, it always felt like poetry to you. Or maybe you were a little bias.

You cleared your throat. Then took a bandage. You placed it directly on Henry’s wound. “All done.”

Henry saw you were trying to be quick to pull away at his touch and walk away. He got off from the table and grabbed your arm. Then forced you to turn and look at him.

A gasp came from your lips from his assertiveness. “Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?” You forced yourself to play stupid.

“Pushing me away. You’re driving me insane.”

“I’m not pushing you away, Hen.”

“Bullshit. I feel it.”

You let out a sigh before turning away from him. You rubbed the back of your neck out of frustration. Henry was right behind you, following your lead.

He started to rub the back of your neck with his strong hands. The tension from your neck instantly released. You let out a moan of relief.

His hands were on your love handles and he gave them a gentle rub, making you sigh more out of relaxation. “Stop, pushing me away.”

“Henry…”

The long moan of his name, made him force you to turn around and face him. His left hand stayed on your love handle while his right hand caressed your face. “Why are you doing this?” You asked him.

Henry tilted his head at your behavior, observing your reaction. He saw your eyes about to fill with tears. Then it was too late. A tear dropped down your cheek.

He quickly kissed it away. “Why are you crying?”

“Why are you doing this?” You repeated.

Henry brought your chin up, making sure you were looking at him in the eyes. Usually he did have a smart remark but now wasn’t the time for that right now. Now was the time to be real. “Because I have feelings for you.”

“No you don’t.”

He knew this was coming. You doubting his feelings for you just because you were different than the girls he would usually go after. “You don’t get to tell me who I can and can’t have feelings for. I decide that. Not you, me.”

You bit your lip. You wanted to look away but you knew Henry was just going to make you look at him. “I don’t want to get hurt, Henry.”

“I won’t hurt you. I promise.” He whispered.

It was your turn to make a move. You cupped his face with both hands, kissing him.

Henry quickly kissed you back. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to him. The kiss felt perfect. Everything he imagined it would be. He didn’t want to let you go, afraid if you pulled back he would never get you like this again.

He pushed you up against one of your desks. He knocked down all the stuff that was on it. You were thankful you didn’t have any important work on the desk.

He picked you up, setting you down on the desk, continuing to kiss you like his life depended on it.

Your hands went to his chest. You had forgotten he was completely shirtless. His abs were defined. The muscles along his arm hugged you like a snug blanket.

Henry moaned in your mouth at the feeling of just simply your hands on his chest. His hand went to the back of your neck. He gave you a big, sloppy, deep, but passionate kiss.

He pulled away and looked at you back in your eyes. “I’m not going to hurt you.” He told you again.

It was then you just had to take in a deep breath and nod in acceptance. “Okay.”

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Imagine calling Law ‘Captain-kun’ by accident while helping Bepo with his costume...

“Y/n, I need you to help Shachi with the- are you listening to me?”

You were scrambling around the room gathering varying styles of fabric and materials in light and dark shades. You had noticed the captain of the Polar Tang walk in but you were far too occupied.

“Sorry, I’m in a bit of a rush to work on something for Bepo.” You passed him on the way to the door, absentmindedly pressing a feathered kiss to his cheek. “I’ll help Shachi later, Captain-kun.”

Dashing out as quick as possible, your eyes drew down to the items in your arms, mind wandering to the bear in dire need of your creative assistance.

Scissors, glue, red fabric, kiss…

You nearly bumped into Penguin and a few other crew members in the rush, throwing out your mental list. Rounding the corner, you entered the room where Bepo was waiting. His paws rubbing together nervously as he looked at the various costume items that he had gathered on the floor.

“I’m back. Don’t worry. We’ll patch something great for you to wear at the show.” You assured and added the items in your hand to the small pile. “There’s different kinds of fabric and a leather belt that Shachi wasn’t using.”

“Did the captain see you?” Bepo asked and you knew how he had been denied to attend at first by the stoic leader.

“He was there and saying something about-”

Captain-kun…

You gasped and dropped a roll of ribbon you had been holding, fingers flying to your lips. Heartbeat drumming against your chest, your whole body suddenly felt uncomfortably warm.

How had you been so distracted? He was your temporary Captain and you treated him like a lover who had done this dance many times.

“I called him… I can’t believe I said it out loud.” You buried your face in your hands. How did you let this happen? You were due back to the Thousand Sunny in a few days. You shouldn’t have let these feelings grow.

Bepo’s eyes widened when he pieced it together - you were in love with Trafalgar Law.

“Captain!” He squealed and sped out of the room quicker than your mind could register.

Shit.

Collecting yourself, you rushed out and chased after the damn bear. If he spoke to Law, it would make things so much worse.

Zipping through the corridors, you ran back to the spare room barging through the doors and starling a few other crew members. They looked at you with puzzled expressions before returning to their business. Scanning the area, you saw no trace of fluffy ears or a spotted hat and your stomach dropped.

Where were they? Retracing your steps to outside the door, you turned to the left and stared at an empty corridor.

The library. Law’s usual haunt.

You took off in that direction desperately hoping that you weren’t too late. It was another series of twists and turns aboard the ship and you’d be sure to mention it to the Heart Pirate Captain on your way out.

When you made the last turn, it was a beeline to the library and as you neared, there was a black, white and orange object drawing close.

Bepo. He seemed frightened and was… running away?

Whatever he was up to didn’t matter. As you started to get a clearer sight, you stretched your arms forward with every intention to latch on to the furball when - very suddenly - you were enveloped in a blue light.

~ More imagines here ~

A/n: To be continued? I've actually yet to get to Law in the anime but I've seen so many clips, I just couldn't resist! x

Happy Valentine's Day!

[zosan-secondchances]

The Pirate King of the North: Part 10

Main Themes: Villain Sanji, Alternate Universe, Zosan Ship

Warning: Long post ahead with One Piece spoilers. Contains strong language and explicit content.

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17

It was an early morning start for everyone aboard the Polar Tang.

Zoro and Sanji had spent the night together in the bubble ship parked on deck for a much needed quality time, much to Niji's dismay. The helmeted blue-haired commander found them ass naked in their hiding place at first light and woke them up. He was finally able to finish Sanji's claw gauntlet fitting which took no time at all. While he was there, he saw an opportunity to improve the ship's primitive maneuvering system to ensure that the bulky vessel has the capability to take sharper, faster turns in case of any events of unexpected knock up streams.

After getting kicked out of the bubble ship by the demanding Niji, Zoro ran back to their room to dress up and finish packing for the trip. He had nothing but his underwear on him after getting his clothes torn up during his crazy night of passion with the blonde. He received a lot of stares and some light-hearted teasing from the crew during his walk of shame but he wore it with a shameless smirk. In his mind, it was all worth it. Though he makes it a point to try and patch up the garment that his friends worked so hard to make for him later.

Sanji stayed in the ship, also naked after having his clothes somehow lost in the process. He has entrusted the swordsman to fetch him his travel pack that he'd prepared the night before so he sat waiting on one of the passenger seats, snuggling himself in Niji's long cloak to keep warm. As much as he appreciates his brother's thoughtfulness by offering him his cape, and the extra effort he's putting in to improving the ship, he still holds a grudge on him for picking on his beloved Marimo, especially after last night's progression in their relationship. He glares down at the blue-haired commander who is currently in deep concentration, fine-tuning the steering wheel from the pilot seat.

Zoro returns wearing fresh new robes and holding two travel packs over his shoulders. He begins hauling them into the ship while standing outside by the door to respectfully keep his distance from the blonde's brother who is hard at work. He starts arranging bags under the side consoles to ensure that their possessions are secured and out of the way. Sanji gratefully grabs spare clothes from his own bag from where he sat.

Before dressing up, the blonde suddenly realises the perfect opportunity for revenge–in front of the very man his brother had picked on. He leans back against his seat, hugs his knees up to his chest, and strokes a lock of hair, trying to play it casual.

Sanji

So Niji, how's our chef Cosette doing?

Caught completely off guard, Niji yanks the steering wheel off its panel, tearing wires and other components that he'd meticulously been working on for the last hour. His face had suddenly gone scarlet red and blood trickled down his nose.

Sanji smirks at his brother's reaction. He leans his cheek against the palm of his hand and tilts his head innocently, watching the man practically start hyperventilating. He could have sworn he saw tiny sparks of electricity emit at the tip of his blue hair.

Zoro looks shocked and pissed at the commander for breaking Nami's old bubble ship.

Niji

I–hah–why would I…she's a servant. Loyal and… dedicated and… talented and…. How… why would you–hah–what possessed you to think that I would know–?

Niji looks down at the panel where he'd ripped out the steering wheel and then at his hand where he's gripping it. His tight hold around the handles had contorted its shape. Slowly, he realises what he'd done. He drops to his knees and starts repeatedly banging his head against it in frustration.

Sanji

So…I take it she's well then?

Niji pauses his movements to shoot him a furious glare behind his goggles, his cheeks still reddened.

Sanji hears a faint sound of their host captain from a distance talking to his crew while approaching the ship. He sounded excited for a change as they're finally lifting off to Skypiea. When Law hopped up onboard, he froze at the sight of seeing the Pirate King practically naked in his seat and the commander holding onto the broken steering wheel.

Law

What the hell is this? Why are you tearing apart my bubble ship?

I don't even know what's going on with you, Mr. Prince-ya.

Niji

I can explain–!

Zoro and Sanji 

Niji broke the ship.

Law practically had smoke coming out of his ears. He rolls up his sleeves.

—

Sanji

That's not… where I thought that was going to go….

Niji

Really now?

Zoro, Sanji and Niji all had bumps on their heads from the fuming captain. They all stood in pain behind Law who is making a final speech to the Heart Pirates crew before separating from them until they return from Skypiea. He wanted to make sure that everyone is fully aware of their plan to meet back near Jaya, and told them to stay under the radar by not staying in one place too long. They're to keep a constant eye on their long distant transponder snail in case there are any emergencies.

Niji had repaired the damage he’d done and replaced the disfigured steering wheel for a makeshift one. He still managed to do the maneuver upgrade that he wanted right on schedule so Law's punishment on him wasn't as harsh.

Sanji soothes his painful bump with a hand, wondering if he should have done his act of revenge another day. At least he has clothes now and his claw gauntlet fitted properly with its blades retracted.

Zoro had no idea what exactly just happened but given how much he'd been getting punished by Law recently, he just accepted his fate.

They sail the Polar Tang until it reaches a good distance away from Jaya to avoid any unwanted attention during take off. Niji launches himself in the air to scout ahead, hoping to travel high enough to potentially find the floating island by eye and watch out for any unwelcoming shifts in weather. They're to keep tabs with him through transponder snails. Bepo reported that there may be a storm later in the day but if they reach the sky island before late afternoon, they should be safe.

Zoro, Sanji and Law follow by bubble ship shortly, waving farewell to the rest of the Heart Pirates from inside as they lift off. The blonde volunteered to pilot as he claimed to have done it before. This proved evident when he started up the engines, inflated the float bubble and launched the vessel without a fuss. Before they know it, they reach their desired altitude just under the stratosphere where they reconvened with the commander as planned.

Zoro and Law watched the two siblings, surprised at how quickly their dynamic switched as they expertly navigated the skies together. Past all their snide jabbing and teasing, Sanji and Niji operated like two veteran mercenaries who clearly had years of experience in their arsenal. Niji flew ahead and continuously sent advice through his den-den mushi, and Sanji made executive decisions based on his brother's reports and piloted the ship expertly. They managed to avoid troublesome cloud formations without a navigator, thanks to their collaborative teamwork.

Law

How do you know how to fly so well, Mr. Prince-ya?

Sanji

Err…I'm the only one who doesn't fly in the family so I tend to take a bubble ship for myself when I need to.

Niji interrupts through the transponder snail.

Niji 

Correction–he chooses not to. He can, if he just wears his–

Sanji

Commander, we talked about this.

Niji

Tch.

Zoro was looking at Sanji curiously, clearly wanting to hear more about the whole subject of flying but the blonde wants to avoid the uncomfortable topic so he quickly shifts the conversation. He clears his throat.

Sanji

Marimo-kun, can you please remind us what we're on a lookout for?

Zoro

We're trying to find South Birds or one of its variants. They're native to Skypiea and a lot bigger up here. They should help us find the island.

Otherwise we should see thick solid clouds with houses or a jungle on them. It's pretty big so it's hard to miss.

Sanji

Did you get that, Commander?

Niji

Got it.

There is a painful stretch of silence as the ship floats aimlessly in the sky. This part of the troposphere should be thinning out of clouds but today seems to be an odd exception as it's more fogged up than usual. Zoro notices Sanji gradually getting worried after an hour with no news. He starts impatiently tapping his fingers on the steering wheel while his feet twitch restlessly, his hand almost reaching out for the den-den mushi several times but ultimately acts against it.

Zoro

Hey…is everything okay?

Sanji

Y–yeah…. I just… don't worry about it.

Law

If you’re that concerned, we should call him.

Sanji

Maybe…. Give him more time. He might be in the middle of something.

After several more tense minutes, they hear a long squawk from a distance behind them. Zoro, Sanji and Law turn their heads to find a large bird, more than twice the size of their bubble ship, writhing mid-air. Around its body, a familiar blue-haired man gripped around its neck, trying to force its wings closed with his legs. He carries it with difficulty towards the bubble ship, his boots kicking off pulses in different directions to try and gain some semblance of stability.

Law

What the hell–?

Sanji starts laughing out loud as the bird throws its head wildly in every which way. It relentlessly flaps its wings and kicks its sharp talons out madly, desperate to free itself from the commander's death grip.

Niji stops just in front of the ship while still wrestling with the bird.

Niji

Is this–?? OWW!!!

The commander only just manages to dodge the bird’s attempt to eat his face, but the side of his face gets whacked with its powerful beak with a loud crack.

Niji

IS THIS IT, SWORDSMAN?!?

Zoro

Err…

Zoro looks back and forth between Niji and the giant bird dumbfoundedly, still trying to take in the comical scene before them.

The blonde shuffles through his pack calmly.

Sanji

Does anyone else have a camera?

Niji

Fuck–! Answer already!! Is this a South Bird or what?!

Zoro

Yes…?

Niji

Why do you sound so unsure?!

Zoro

It's been a while, okay?! And I can't see the crest properly! Can’t you hold it still?

Niji

FUCK YOU, YOU BROCCOLI HEAD! You come out here and do it then!

Zoro

It's MARIMO!!!

Sanji

Yonji’s going to love this.

Sanji finally pulls out a photo camera and snaps a couple of shots of the action, cheerfully kicking his legs from his seat in delight.

Sanji

And for the fridge….

He turns his seat around and takes a nice photo of Zoro laughing at Niji. He also manages to catch one of Law who can't help but bear a small entertained smile on his face under the shade of his cap.

Law

Oi! Watch the talons! Back off, Commander or it will pop the bubble!

Niji briefly dips out of sight but manages to recover. Zoro takes his time thinking, his hand massaging his jaw as he digs through his memory banks while watching the commander wrestle the giant bird.

Sanji

You know, I've seen them in a book.

Niji

So what?! Is this it??

Sanji

…It was a black and white print. I don't know if the colour matters.

Niji

Oh, for fuck's sake! Don't give me useless information!

Law

Zoro-ya, just say something already!

Zoro

Curls made a good point…. Was it more blue or more pink…? Is the face really that long? I can't remember.

Law slowly pulls out the feather from his pocket that Corazon had left behind for him, very carefully taking his time to avoid damaging it. He holds it up in his hand for everyone to look at.

Sanji

It's a little more pale than the one Niji’s holding.

Law

Maybe it was younger?

Niji

I hate all of you.

Zoro

I think… I think it is a South Bird.

Niji finally releases the furious bird from his grip. He dodges its angry pecks and swooping before it flies away from them. His clothing had suffered huge scratches throughout his body.

Sanji

Great job, Commander! Need a break?

The blue-haired man flops over the side of the ship, half hanging off the edge as he catches his breath.

Sanji turns the vessel to follow the bird. Thanks to his brother's earlier modifications, they're able to keep up with it without an issue.

After a few moments, Niji pulls himself up to sit on the side of the ship with his feet dangling over the edge, all the while keeping a close eye at the pursuit. He clenches his fist over his chest, still feeling breathless and the altitude isn’t doing him any favours.

Sanji notices the commander’s state and he narrows his eyes at his damaged helmet. A large piece at the front is cracked so badly that it’s just about ready to fall off at any moment.

Zoro offers the blue-haired man his flask of water. Reluctantly, Niji accepts and drinks from it, too tired to say no.

Sanji

I need you to go home, Commander.

Niji

No, I can make it. I promised I'd get you to Skypiea–

Sanji

No, Niji. Not this time.

After another swill, the commander wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and glares at Sanji.

Sanji

We'll be fine, alright?

And…you still have that other mission. You can't dally.

Niji doesn't turn his head but behind his goggles, Zoro notices that he shifts his eyes between him and the blonde. Ultimately, the blue-haired man sighs exasperatedly and throws the half empty flask back to him.

Niji

Fine. But I'm not happy about it.

Sanji gives him a weak smile to try and reassure him.

Sanji

I know.

The blonde turns his attention back towards the South Bird. When he notices that Law gazes away from him as well, Niji takes the opportunity to quickly grab Zoro's arm and shoves something metallic and cold in his robe’s long sleeve, out of everyone else's sight.

The swordsman was initially freaked out but picked up on his discretion. He raises a brow curiously at him.

Niji releases him and gives a thankful nod. He turns his attention back to the blonde.

Niji

Later, Your Highness.

Sanji

Thank you for all your assistance, Commander.

And…get home safe. That's an order.

Niji

Ugh… don't be gross.

He angles himself on the bubble ship, facing the opposite direction where the group is heading. With a kick of his Raid Boots, he sends a strong pulse of force against the surface of the vessel, giving them a rapid boost forward towards the bird. The passengers onboard see him take off into the distance the other way.

Sanji melts in his seat from relief.

Law

What was that other mission, Mr. Prince-ya? …Or is this one of those on the “need-to-know basis” things that you mentioned?

Sanji purses his lips, seriously considering Law's question. After a while, he answers.

Sanji

I sent him to infiltrate Doffy’s ranks…discreetly.

I don't know if I should have done it earlier but…Doffy’s just been too quiet and I don't like it.

Law has a surprised look on his face but decides against arguing about it, detecting the man's genuine concern about the situation and risking his own brother to investigate. In his head, he weighs all the things that the blonde had done to help him during their quest so far. He hated him a little for not following through on any one of his plans, but he can't ignore the fact how effective Sanji has been. He decides to do the unthinkable and put his faith on him.

Law

Do you think there's a possibility that we're in danger?

Sanji

I always think that we’re in danger. How much exactly…is hard to say…. I don't like working blind, doctor. That's why I'm taking the risk. But this means that I have to trust my brother to do the right thing. You've seen him prove himself in the short time he's with us. I hope that's enough to give you comfort.

The doctor eyes the man up and down, considering his words and trying to get a better read on him. He crosses his arms and looks away silently. To him, it sounded like the blonde was trying to convince himself more than anything that he's made the right call.

Zoro felt that cold texture in his sleeve. When he peeks under his robe, he sees a dark canister with the number “3” on it. Confused but thinking it might be important for later, he shifts it somewhere more securely in his haramaki.

—

As they travel, the sky becomes too hazy to see through. After what seemed like hours of obscured vision similar to that of a whiteout during a blizzard, the South Bird descends just as the passengers in the bubble ship start to lose their patience. The fog parts before them and, up ahead, they see a vast sea of clouds stretching far beyond what the eye could see. 

Zoro

THERE! The White Sea!

Sanji

Holy shit.

Law

How is this possible…?

The South Bird that they’ve been following disappears somewhere in the horizon as Skypiea finally comes to their full view. As they near, they see a small settlement that consists of tented dwellings, various totems of cultural significance and a tall structure that looks like a wooden watchtower poking out near the edge of the dense jungle.

Zoro 

Odd…we should have seen someone by now. The last time I was here, someone was collecting tolls.

Sanji

Hmm…what do you think, doctor? Where should we land?

Law lays the map on the console in front of the blonde and points near the edge of the island.

Law

Let's dock at this shoreline near that village. If that's what I think it is, they would have seen us by now from that watchtower. I want to make sure that we’re not intruding on anyone's territory before we can properly introduce ourselves. I don't know what they're like but I'd like to avoid any political dramas if we can help it.

Also, we need to check our fuel before we get too far. We need to have enough to go back with.

Sanji follows his direction, and lands the ship near a sturdy tree, not bothering to deflate the bubble in case they need to take off soon again.

When they disembark, Zoro immediately secures the bubble boat using its mooring line, then sets to work to check on the state of the ship while Law walks off to investigate the nearby houses for any locals. 

—

After a loo break and doing some warm up exercises, Sanji is feeling excited for the new adventure. All his worrying about his brother had overshadowed the fact that he hadn't gone out to properly stretch his legs in a mission for a long time. But now, after seeing a few of the local flora and fauna that he'd never seen before, the blonde is positively enthusiastic for whatever is in store ahead. He approaches the tired-looking captain who is hunched over with the swordsman on the side of the bubble ship, trying to read the map in their possession.

Sanji

Alright, Traffy!

The blonde claps and rubs his hands together in excitement, practically bouncing on his step as he closes in on his companions.

Sanji

I am at your disposal, ready for anything! Just say the word! So what's the plan? I'm assuming you have a well thought through plan? Let's hear it!

Zoro walks to stand behind Sanji with a bright smile on his face, supporting the blonde's statement. He puts his hands on his hips, looking like he's also ready for anything the doctor throws at them.

Law kept still, remaining hunched over the piece of paper, his expression hidden behind the shade of his cap.

Zoro

I uh… feel bad for pretty much wrecking every part of your plans leading up to today so…I'm with Curls. We'll do everything you say. By the book.

Without moving his body, Law turns his head slightly towards them, still hesitating to show his face.

Sanji

Traffy? You okay?

Law

I…

Law finally straightens up to look at his companions eye to eye. He has a morbid look on his face.

Law

I…I don't have any plans.

Zoro and Sanji's jaws drop in disbelief as the doctor rubs the back of his neck shyly. They see his ears redden from embarrassment.

Law

I usually just…wing this part somehow. But I'm stuck without my guys…. I don't actually know how we've come this far….

There was an awkward pause then Sanji suddenly bursts into a fit of laughter and Zoro grins widely at the doctor. Between difficult breaths, the blonde speaks.

Sanji

I was–so, so prepared to do everything right by you!!!

I thought–the doctor is alright–he's great–he saved my life. I need to make up for it–show how much I appreciate him–

He falls to his knees, tears flowing freely from his face. His laughter has become so unhinged that even Zoro's shoulders start twitching from the contagion.

Sanji

And now–now we ask for it and you DON'T have anything?! BWAHAHAHA–!!

Law’s expression darkens just as gradually as Sanji's laughter gets more out of hand. When the doctor finally snaps, Sanji receives well-deserved smacks on his head and the bumps that come with them.

—

After Law tells him that the settlement is weirdly deserted, Zoro suggests that they make their way to Upper Yard, remembering the treaty between Skypiea’s citizens and the tribe of Shandia. They had the joint intention of reclaiming the land that the former God, Enel, once took control of. He thinks that maybe they had all moved there as their new home.

Law supported this as they simply just need more information at this point to see if anyone remembers any Marines or someone of Corazon’s description visiting. He makes an executive decision that they walk to the place, not wanting to miss out on any opportunities that might come their way and use up any more fuel than they already have.

They each carry their own packs and walk towards the general direction where the swordsman pointed to on the map, though Law doesn't have high hopes given the man's directional skills. The bubble ship was left behind after being relocated in the jungle, covered in leaves and other floor debris to keep it out of sight.

Eventually, they come across their first obstacle–a wide river of clouds that separates their side of the land and where they need to be. The moving puffs of cloud before them makes it look like water flowing between solid ground.

Zoro

You can swim in it but from what I remember, there are these things called err… hmm….

Law kicks a pebble into the river. It creates a ripple that spreads right through to the middle, causing a disturbance under the surface. A giant length of scales erupt through the puffs of white then the creature slithers away as quickly as it came.

Sanji

Woah! It's like…what–a Seaking in the sky or something?

Zoro

Sort of. There’s a lot of Sky Fishes. But there’s also Sky Sharks and these giant worms with teeth.

Law

So…no swimming then. That's not a problem.

Zoro

We passed by a big tree with vines. We can swing across–

Law

Don't bother.

The doctor brings up his hand and conjures his Room ability. With a couple of flicks, he teleports Zoro and Sanji to the other side, swapping places with jungle debris in the area. He follows them himself shortly after.

Sanji

Give us a warning next time!

The swordsman and the blonde struggle to stand from the ground, feeling woozy from the sudden vertigo.

They continue their journey forward, stopping often whenever they find an interesting specimen that they each want to look at. They felt like children with short attention spans, getting distracted at everything new everywhere they go. Sanji having a camera also meant more delays whenever he wanted to stop and take pictures. When Law told him to put it away, the blonde snarled and said it was the gift from his Heart Pirates crew. They had made him promise to snap shots of their adventure on their behalf. Law didn't bother him about it since then.

They come across two more gaps to hurdle. Each time, Zoro insists that they swing on a vine but they get teleported before they could say anything about it. Sanji's starting to get sick of being moved from one place to the next so carelessly. After the third time, he finally snaps.

He grabs Law's wrist just as he was about to use his Shambles ability again. The doctor glares at him angrily for the interruption.

Sanji

NO! NO MORE. I'M SICK OF THIS! I almost threw up last time!

Law

What the hell, Mr. Prince-ya?! Get your hands off me!

Sanji pushes Law on the chest childishly.

Sanji

You're taking the fun out of it!!!

Law

The…fun?

Sanji

We're adventuring pirates! We're supposed to go through struggles and find ways to overcome them! Not just…whatever the hell you're doing!

Law

You're complaining about…lack of struggle.

Sanji

You're making it too easy!

Zoro

Traffy, I know I said I'd do everything you say but…I kinda agree with Curly.

Law

…You just want to swing.

Sanji

Let the man swing!

Zoro crosses his arms and nods his head in agreement. Law slaps his forehead in frustration at the whole notion.

Law

It would be faster if–

Zoro and Sanji 

NO!!!

Law

Oh, for the love of–FINE!!! How do you propose we cross–

Flailing his arms forwards, Law gestures at the wide river separating them from the next piece of land. The distance is almost twice as long as the length of the Polar Tang.

Law

This?!

Sanji places his arms on his own hips and smirks.

Sanji

I propose a game.

Law

A game?

Sanji

Something that I like to play with my siblings when we're out on joint ventures. It'll be fun, I promise!

Slightly intrigued, Law crosses his arms and listens intently.

Law

Alright…. Let's hear it.

Happy with Law's willingness to listen, Sanji claps his hands together enthusiastically and begins to make hand gestures as he talks.

Sanji

We each hurdle obstacles however we want BUT we have to make it as cool as possible!

Law

…“As cool as possible”.

Sanji

Yes!

Law rolls his eyes looking unimpressed but the blonde continues.

Sanji

There's three of us, so we'll each take a turn playing judge on who gets from point A to point B the coolest way possible. When we reach our final destination, the one with the most points wins!

I’m talking flair–the badassery–even the underappreciated, underrated skills–the whole thing! It's the time to show off what you got and be creative!!!

There's about a million things Law wants to say about the silly game–how unnecessary it is and how many faults there are in the rules. Before he can say anything, the swordsman interrupts.

Zoro

Do I get to swing?

Sanji gives him a wink.

Sanji

To your heart’s content, baby.

Zoro

Let's do it.

Sanji

YES!

Law

Seriously, Zoro-ya?!

Zoro

It sounds more interesting than… “shambles” all day.

Uhm…no offense.

Law groans but waves his hand in dismissal.

Law

Do whatever you want.

Sanji squeals in excitement.

Sanji

That’s the whole point of it!

Zoro

So what’s the prize?

Sanji plays with his goatee thoughtfully. Then his expression darkens as his lips thin into a devilish smile.

Sanji

How about…a favour?

Zoro furrows his brow at that.

Law tips his head at the idea. He takes a step forward towards the blonde.

Law

Go on…

Sanji

Any time, anywhere in the world, no questions asked. The winner gains the favour from the other two contenders so that he may call on them at a time of his choosing–together or separately.

Zoro

Oh… Curls… I don't know…

The doctor unexpectedly chuckles, his tone just as dark as the blonde’s smile. He holds out a hand, which Sanji takes without hesitation. The swordsman looks between the two of them nervously.

Law

You’re on, Pirate King.

[vamp1reb1tez]

“Bar Tabs & Bandages.” Silco x Male reader

A/N: This is my first fanfic I hope you guys enjoy :3

Working under Silco and the Eye of Zaun, you never imagined the two of you would get along—polar opposites in every way. Silco, with his calm, calculating demeanor, could keep even the most unruly of his men in check without raising his voice, while you were the kind of person who couldn’t resist poking the bear. You found his cold professionalism amusing to test, and it drove him mad. The only reason you were here was to pay off your debt.

You still weren’t sure why he saved you during the enforcer raid all those months ago, dragging your bleeding body back to The Last Drop instead of leaving you to die in the gutter like everyone else. Maybe he just wanted another soldier for his growing army. Or maybe he saw potential in you. Either way, here you were, stuck under his roof and his rules. Not that you were complaining. It was better than the alternative—at least here, you had regular meals and a bed, which was more than most in Zaun could say. Still, being beholden to Silco grated on your nerves, even if you found a certain satisfaction in testing his patience whenever you could.

Lately, though, you’d noticed a change. Silco seemed less irritated by your constant sarcasm, meeting your remarks with an exasperated eye roll or even, on rare occasions, a wry quip of his own. You weren’t sure what to make of it. Maybe he was getting used to you, or maybe your banter was finally wearing him down.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

One evening, Silco was hunched over his desk, a lit cigar between his lips as he traced a blueprint of Zaun’s streets. The Chem Barons were at each other’s throats again, and you could tell from the tension in his shoulders that the situation was weighing on him. He didn’t look up when Sevika burst into the room, dragging you in by the arm like a misbehaving child.

“This is the third time this week, Boss,” she snapped, shoving you forward. “He keeps picking fights in the bar. I’m sick of it.”

Silco lifted his head slowly, exhaling a cloud of smoke. His mismatched eyes flicked to you, then back to Sevika. “Leave him here. I’ll deal with him.”

Sevika hesitated, clearly annoyed that she wouldn’t get to rough you up, but eventually stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

Silco leaned back in his chair, studying you with a mix of irritation and amusement. “You have a knack for getting yourself all messed up, don’t you?” His voice was smooth, with just a hint of mockery.

You shrugged, wiping the blood from your nose with the sleeve of your coat. “This one had it coming. Should’ve kept his mouth shut.”

Silco sighed, running a hand through his hair as he stood. “Maybe you should learn to control that temper of yours. I don’t need you bleeding all over my floor.” He moved to a drawer, pulling out a cloth.

You couldn’t resist. “It gives the place some character.”

That earned a scoff from him as he stepped in front of you. Silco knelt slightly, pressing the cloth to your nose. His touch was firm but surprisingly gentle, and you couldn’t help but notice how close he was—close enough to catch the scent of his cologne mingling with the sharp tang of cigar smoke.

“You can’t keep picking fights,” he said, his voice low. “Sevika’s already on edge with the way you speak to our patrons.”

You rolled your eyes. “Maybe Sevika should mind her own business.”

That earned you a sharp look. Silco’s hand moved to your jaw, his fingers firm but not harsh as he tilted your face up to meet his gaze. “That is her business. You’d do well to respect that and rein in that attitude of yours.”

You gritted your teeth but stayed silent, his mismatched eyes locking onto yours. He continued cleaning your face, his movements methodical despite the tension crackling in the air. When the cloth pressed against a particularly sore spot, you hissed and tried to pull away, but his grip tightened.

“Quit squirming,” he growled.

“I’m capable of patching myself up, y’know,” you muttered, glaring at him.

Silco smirked, dropping the cloth onto his desk. He leaned forward, his hands braced on either side of your chair, boxing you in. The intensity in his gaze made your breath hitch.

“Oh, you’re capable, are you?” His voice was silken, dripping with sarcasm. “Then why did you let me help?”

Your chest tightened at the question, and your usual sharp tongue failed you. Silco’s smirk deepened, and he tilted his head, studying your face. “You wanted my help, didn’t you, doll?”

“That’s ridiculous,” you mumbled, looking away.

Silco’s hand caught your chin, gently but firmly turning your face back to him. “Oh, it’s entirely ridiculous,” he said, his tone mocking but without malice. His thumb brushed against your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine.

For once, you were at a loss for words. This side of Silco—soft, almost tender—was something you’d never expected to see. And yet, you couldn’t deny the way your body leaned into his touch, craving more.

“Maybe I enjoyed being taken care of,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Silco hummed, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your cheek. “Maybe I enjoy taking care of you,” he murmured.

The air between you grew heavy, the tension almost suffocating. Silco leaned in, his lips dangerously close to yours. “Now,” he said, his voice a low drawl, “are you going to stop fighting in my bar?”

You swallowed hard, nodding quickly. “No more fights. Promise.”

Silco chuckled, his breath warm against your skin. “Good boy.”

The words sent a jolt through you, making your legs feel like jelly. Before you could overthink it, you grabbed his lapels and pulled him down into a kiss. Silco responded immediately, his fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss with a low groan.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing heavily. Silco straightened his coat, his expression calm despite the flush on his cheeks. “Don’t let me catch you out of line again,” he warned, his voice steady but tinged with amusement. “If you persist, I’ll handle you differently.”

You couldn’t help but smirk at that. Maybe one more bar fight wouldn’t hurt, just to see what he meant.

[pomegranate-pen]

Daym sis !! It took you this long to finally do your reqs ? Better late than never ig, ok but fr tho I’m glad you’ve decided to do your reqs for lackadaisy. Cause I was starting to worry !! So I’m glad your ok <33

Anyways, may I req a Rocky Rickaby x rich (closer to a billionaire) Fem! or gn! reader headcannons? Who is kinda polar opposite to Rocky? They’re kind, social, friendly yet calm, reserved, secretive and kinda mysterious because of their status? And it’s not like they got this money from some distant cousin, they had to work hard.

I can also see them spoiling Rocky in little, subtle ways. Like when his violin is broken from his rumrunning, the reader gifts him with a new one, and despite having no note to specify who exactly gave it to him, he can probably guess who it is. Can this also be like a friends to lovers kind of thing? That’d be cool.

Btw u dont have to do this if u dont wanna, or u can do this later, No pressure ! Make sure to take care of yourself, take breaks and have a wonderful day !!!

Rocky Rickaby x rich!gn!Reader headcanons

A/n: what?? Pomegranate pen actually keeping her promise and releasing something at a weekend?? That's impossible!!! Nsjwjwjwjw anyway, hi dear anon!! Tysm for requesting, I will admit, this was very fun to write,especially since I really missed writing for lackadaisy these few days. Thanks for requesting!! I hope you enjoy this!!

-----

Maintaining a bountiful fortune costs your time, soul and trust and in the world where greed overtakes all morals people have, you always need to be careful on whom you let see your weakness, whom you let see your heart.

So safe to say, you weren’t so keen on trusting a place so deeply rumoured as the lackadaisy speakeasy, let alone become a sponsor of it.

Or at least, that was the case before you met the infamous bootlegger of the place, Rocky Rickaby when he suddenly crashed face first with your car in a farmer's field late in the night. You truly thought he was dead at that moment, you were certain you just accidentally killed someone late into the night because the exhaustion of your soul-consuming meetings finally caught up to you. but then as you got out of the car, as you tried to reevaluate the situation and tried to find any sort of farm or shelter that you could ask help from, a sudden groan of pain gets your attention. The grey cat looks at you with the wooziest eyes and the silliest of grins.

One of his hands shakily goes up to point at you. “…has the nightingale sent her prettiest angel to take me away?” His voice was anything but coherent. “…why I must be quite the lucky…poet..”

As relief washes over you to the fact that he’s breathing, at the very least, you notice a nasty wound opening up on his head, a bit of blood ready to gush out of it. then you notice the box of what seems to be bottles of moonshine that spilled with him as he was running away.

 Before you could think of anything else- you hear grunts, gunshots and yells from across the fields, and in that moment of flight or fight, you grab onto the concerningly lanky cat and drive away.

Through all your yells to yourself about literally taking an injured stranger into your car and running away, you also realized why you felt such an urge. Your brain has seemed to connect the dots.whoever this guy was, it was obvious his job was the unsavoury kind, a bootlegger. An occupation you remember having a long time ago, a job you remember being your worst. Perhaps,you’ve felt sympathy for the guy and decided to save him before things got deadly.

Nevertheless, with an abundance of self-deprecation and worry for what will be the outcome of your quick and on-pressure decision, you took him to your house.

Maids and servants alike gasped in horror when they saw their boss caryying a man who looks like he took a deep swim in the mud, blood trickling down his blue suit and staining your own clothing. You quickly ask for their aid and bring him to the fireplace, let the maids patch him up while you get a proper change of clothes and soothing tea as well.

 The servants urge you to go to bed, to be rest assured that when the mysterious lanky cat wakes up they’ll be there to explain everything to him. Yet, you could not let anyone face the burdens of your silly and perhaps bad decision (though some of your employees commented that you could be deemed heroic in a certain lens. “some might even say a tad romantic!” a certain person with a known interest for romance novels added. You dismissed it all.)

You decided to stay the night sitting by the arm-chair next to the couch he laid on, awaiting his clarity while taking a small nap yourself. With a grunt and roll of their eyes,some from amusement and others from worry, they brought a blanket and a pillow and left you be. Next to the lanky, drifted asleep and bad-shape cat that was covered in bandages.

You were expecting at least a decent night’s sleep, since there’d be no way he’d be able to wake up quickly after the day he’s been through.his body would definitely take its time in recovery. What you hadn’t expected, was hearing rustling and shifts in the night, ones you dismissed as servants just shifted around to finish up the last of their tasks, but then hearing creaks, stumbles and the sound of something clunking and shattering on the ground before finally, a creak of a window opening. That is when your eyes immediately opened, and you were met with the cat who was hit with your car tangled up in his own bandages trying to make an escape. You both froze for a moment. Him, being midway out with his escape, his hand still latched on the window, and you, still in your armchair with a frazzled expression.

 “uh…sorry about that….” His eyes trail to the ground.”statue?...” he gives a nervous grin while pointing at the shattered artifact.he then looks up and gives a nervous chuckle. “and the torn drapes.” He then looks around again and winces. “annnnd the shattered vase.”

 After that failed attempt to escape seemed futile, you brought him back in and briefly explained the situation. Rocky told you his side of the story- though, with a few skipped parts and avoiding to get into details about what specifically failed so spectacularly in his task to retrieve some booze.

You talk for a little while, giving some small brief summaries about who you are and what you do, and gleefully answering some silly questions Rocky had about your status. You found yourself enjoying your talk with Rocky, talking to someone who's so incredibly lively. You've been around soulless businessmen for so long that you almost forgot what it’s like to actually speak to a person, to forget about status and money, to not read between the lines of every sentence someone utters. You finally felt like yourself for a moment, like something about Rocky’s eccentricities and unhinged nature has rejuvenated your soul.

 Yet, as Rocky looks back at the clock, he quickly gets up to leave, needing to go back to his work before anyone assumes he’s dead. You tried to convince him to stay a while longer, to sleep for the night so he can heal up. yet he didn’t falter. He quickly put on his coat and hat, looking at you with a charming smile. He tilts his hat, giving a small bow before graciously saying goodbye.

What he hadn’t noticed, was that your eyes trailed his clothing for a moment and noticed something intriguing. Something that could hint at where he truly works at. A small pin, in the shape of a club.

  After that, a few weeks have passed by before you decide to finally visit. Your main reason was to just make sure he’s  okay and that his injury has finally healed up. yet a part of you knew that you were also deeply curious about him, and had felt the urge to know more about his life. Perhaps, he’ll rise the ranks like you did. Or maybe just like old co-workers of yours at the bootlegging game, he’ll get himself into deep trouble.

Nonetheless, you visited the Lackadaisy speakeasy. The place you heard a cacophony of rumours and chats about, yet never visited it yourself. The empty mine with dark lights engulfed in the room left a lot to be desired. something was missing, something crucial that was holding the whole place up together. The very few guests that were there however, were noneother than the wife of Atlas May and…

  “…Wick Sable?!”

Wick chokes on his drink, tail frizzing up in distress as his ears perk up and take a note of the familiarity of that voice. He coughs out the drink he was meaning to enjoy (even if it’s taste wasn’t really in the highest of tiers in terms of ‘enjoyable’), looking at you with a stressed smile. “ah…L/n..what an unexpected surprise.”

Depending on your relationship with Wick, this interaction could go in three ways. If you're good friends, he’d have to suffer a bit with both your teasing and Mitzi's about not telling you about his frequent trips here. If you're mere acquaintances, then though he’d have to suffer only  Mitzi's teasing about him being so secretive about his visits, he’d still be forced to explain his relationship with the place to you over a few drinks. If you’re known to be rivals or enemies, well, not only would he be utterly displeased by the idea of you finding his go-to bar, but what would irk him more would be how Mitzi will try to make you a regular patron around here. often shutting up any sort of jab or retort Wick has to your musings and letting you have control over the conversation.

 As you start getting accustomed to the ambiance of the mine and the piercing galre of the bartender, the man of the hour-well, your hour, at least, comes in. this time with his suit only a tiny bit ruined by dirt and tears, but still not as bad as his awful state when you first found him.

His eyes beam when he sees you, and he immediately starts flirting with lines of poetry and song while he shoves the cart of illicit beverages he found into a small orange cat;s hands and takes the abandoned violin that was on the bar counter to strum up a tune.

Everyone expected him to be flat out rejected, to be ignored and maybe even weird out the new patron. But low and behold, the new patron merely giggled and smiled, matching his playful energy and cheeky jokes.

Safe to say, everyone’s jaw was dropped, while Rocky himself was beaming with joy and pride.

After that, you’ve become a regular at the speakeasy.often visiting the place to mainly speak with Rocky and develop a nice friendship with him. 

Your conversations with him were always insightful, since he was the very clear opposite of you. While you were known in society for your calm demeanour in different matters (often preferring to panic in the inside rather than out.), Rocky was known to be loud and spontaneous. No one knew how on earth you two got along so well, but you somehow did. He was able to bring charm and joy to a conversation, something that you desperately missed from your old life. While you were able to become the reasonable one in the relationship, often convincing Rocky to avoid causing some disastrous chaos that would’ve left the speakeasy in shambles.

Rocky’s clumsiness and acts of chaos has left him with more injuries and broken things than he can count. It’s something that you took note of immediately, and whenever you’d see his clothes, your heart would often ache for him. But you knew Rocky. You knew he wouldn’t accept something you bought with your own money, that though he’d act grateful, he’d somehow make some gleeful excuse to try to avoid taking it. And so, you’ve decided with the help of a few delivery boys to send these gifts to him anonymously instead. 

Now, though in everyone else’s eyes, Rocky doesn’t look changed at all, the keen observer would notice his new and clean clothes, and his violin of fine-quality and craftsmanship.

You’d often rant about your job with Rocky. Especially when you had had enough drinks in your system to forget the poised and strong demeanour you must uphold. Ever since you reached the top of the board, you’ve become a fish out of water. You cannot relate nor have any sort of fun with the people you’re often forced to speak with. Especially since the people in question are known to be incredibly judgemental and gossip-obsessed.Rocky would always hear your whines and try to cheer you up with a song, or maybe a funny story he can tell about another dangerous and concerning adventure he had for the day. Since he noticed how you always smile when he rambles on and on, and though you often give him a concerned glance, you never stop listening to him with a smile.

Another way you try to help Rocky is by helping the speakeasy itself, since you know how much it means to him. You sponsor the place and try to help Mitzi when she’s in any sort of financial difficulty, and you try to strum up some business by making your clients and fellow businessmen have meetings in the speakeasy.

This has created a sort of conundrum for the guests you bring. Because unknown to their own knowledge, they're often the same people you rant about all the time to Rocky. And so, Rocky always has the urge to somehow scare and intimidate them with his insanity. He treats them just as he treats Wick, sometimes even worse. He jabs, he nudges and he pretty much freaks them out when you’re too distracted talking about the business at hand to even notice his actions. And the worst part is, whenever you do look up, Rocky immediately stops his actions and gives you a charmed smile and innocent wink. As if he’s been as innocent as an angel the entire time. 

After a while, it didn’t take long for your maids to realize that Rocky wasn’t just some simple friend to you, but in fact, someone you’re into. And they made this theory of theirs become known to you when they suddenly start asking for details about your day at the speakeasy, specifically your hangouts with Rocky. You try to deny it at first, but you couldn’t help but admit that something about Rocky was different from others. To you, your friendship with Rocky was an entirely new and incredible experience, an experience that you cherish deeply, and…you wouldn’t mind for it to become something more.

So,you start initiating the flirtations, ones that Rocky immediately answers back with equal amounts of enthusiasm. Slowly but surely, your hangouts have become dates, and your rants have become more personal.

soon enough, and in the other’s point of view, shockingly so, you two have become a couple. An incredibly cheesy one at that.

 For a moment, everyone thought perhaps this was a sugar baby type of situation. That was until they all wondered what on earth could their lackluster bootlegger and not-half-bad violinist Rocky Rickaby offer in the sugar baby aspect of it all? they all came out with an utterly empty answer. However, though the relationship was far from such a thing, it doesn’t mean you don’t like showering Rocky with gifts all the time. Especially since you firmly believe he deserves at least some sort of nice luxury in his life. You’d often try to do the same old trick of anonymously gifting them, but he has caught you once in the act, and with a bountiful amount of kisses has convinced you to drop the whole act.

Rocky may at first be in somewhat of a denial for such attention. Though he will gawk, be giddy and awe-struck about the amount of gifts he is receiving, a part of him would also somehow feel guilty for it. like he doesn’t deserve such nice things in life. it’s a guilt that you quickly scold him for, and as punishment by even more gifts for him than before.

Though you are of high-status, both you and Rocky still prefer dates in the dark streets of Mississippi rather than any luxurious restaurant. You once tried to go to one  of course, but the night has ended with the kitchen going on fire and Rocky somehow freeing all the lobsters from their tanks. Nevertheless, it was still a great night, one where you couldn’t help but laugh in pure freedom because you felt all the societal pressure in your shoulders wash away. It didn't matter who the guests were in that restaurant, it was of no importance what they whispered about you or your partner whom you wouldn’t trade for the world. All that mattered was you and Rocky, dancing under the stars as rain started to pour.

Teasing Wick has become a mutual activity for you two. An activity Mitzi even joins in from time to time. Lord knows how many jabs Wick has to put up with whenever you both are at the speakeasy at the same time (which unfortunately for him, is quite the common occurrence.) it’s gotten to the point where whenever he sees you two together he gives out an exhausted sigh and asks Viktor to give him a stronger drink.

There are times where Rocky wonders if he’s worth it. times where the stink eyes and glances of high society get in his head a bit and he wonders if he’s truly worth all the reputational risk you’re putting yourself through. Those are the times where you must quickly go against such negative thoughts, to grab his hands and tell him firmly that he’s worth more than anything to you. though it never truly diminishes his insecurity in the matter, it does help lower it down.

You’re absolutely horrified and livid when you realize he’s living in his car. It’s something your heart breaks at and you quickly urge him to just come live with you instead. You have plenty of room to spare and would absolutely adore having him around. It’s an offer you wouldn’t let him say no to, no matter how hard he tried. You even offer to buy a house for him, if he’s uncomfortable with the idea of living with you. He quickly denies having such a thought, and in the end, he moves into your mansion.

Some maids are weirded out by him while others are a bit fearful. But they quickly learn to accommodate him, especially since he’s always bringing you into a better and happier mood. Hell, you even renovated one of the rooms to be his own workshop of sorts where he can write his poems. He never really uses it, preferring to work on his ideas with you beside him instead, but he does put some sizable amount of things in there. things he has definitely brought from his cluttered car.

Even though everyone had their fair share of surprised reactions when they finally found out you were dating, it was Aunt Nina who was the most shocked of all. she never believed Rocky could find a normal partner..let alone one that’s known for their wealth and successful businesses such as yourself. She even once wondered if Rocky has used some sort of devil witchcraft to steal your heart.

There are often times where both of you tend to falter, tend to become incredibly silent after a conversation that went wrong. You both have so many secrets you can’t share, so many thoughts and feelings that are hard to describe, let alone explain where they came from.Rocky admires you, he truly does. Because he knows you’ve worked hard for your status in the world, and that it’s normal for wealthy people to have secrets of their own. You are the same, you respect him, and know that his life wasn’t the most simple nor easiest. Yet both of you cannot help but sometimes get frustrated by the other for keeping important things a secret. You more than him, you will admit. You can’t help it. You don't want him to be in danger. But knowing how strange and unhinged his luck is, you’re certain he’s bound to get into deep trouble if he doesn’t find someone to help him. And that’s when you ask him, why can’t that someone be you? Why can’t he rely on you when he needs it? You’re not a simple person, you have more than enough resources and money to protect both you and him from any problems.

and that is when he asks why can’t you be more open to him,yet ask him for such an act? He knows very little about your family life, and there are times you skip a few stories and relationships you had with certain people you rant about. He has noticed, he just never spoke about it.and then, a chilling silence takes over the room. And you both need time to collect your thoughts before you talk.

In the end, you both reach out for each other at the same time and talk things out, and though you both know talking about each other’s past will take a lot of time and trust, you’re willing to wait for it, and will never forget that you’re by each other’s side for when you’re in need of help.

Though you both are an unexpected match for sure, that doesn’t falter the endless love and admiration you have for each other.

[lxshoxk]

Hi 👉🏼👈🏼 so I won’t be the first to ask for them, but if I could please see a really cute and snuggly Law x Luffy it would sustain me for the rest of my days?!

Luffy obvi being a silly goose, pulling Law in for a big smooch and Law’s barely letting his walls down, he’s definitely blushing but trying to hide it. I can see this unfolding at a celebration like after they win a big fight, so they’re probably patched up a good bit (if Luffy is in bandages and no shirt, hey it’s a chance to practice anatomy!

There’s a bonfire behind them, the soft glow of the fire illuminating them from a distance cuz they’ve wandered away from the festivities gassing each other up after seeing how hard they fought. I honestly cannot get enough of them, i love their polar opposite personalities and even though Luffys shorter, younger, and super unserious, I think he’d somehow make the perfect comment to melt Laws icy exterior and finally grab him for their 🥹first kiss🫣

I’m so giddy thinking about this

Law x Luffy | event masterlist / kofi

Wow! What a beautiful scene you've set here! Honestly, I get it. I absolutely think that Law kinda needs someone like that. It's...well it's a lot like how Rosi ended up acting with him. Goofy and outwardly affectionate. He certainly isn't gonna do that on his own. Well, first of all--you were, in fact, the only person to request lawlu for this little event of mine ~ so I can only *hope* you see it since your on anon and won't be notified directly lol

I tried to focus on mostly close-ups for mosts of the pieces for the event since I was putting out so much but I tried to capture the spirit of it at the least ^-^ thank you so much for participating and i hope you enjoy your piece for this event :3 and happy belated valtentines' day!

notes: i experimented with a different liner brush...yeah. i need to figure out how to color with soft lines before i try that again lol

tag list: @pandora-writes-one-piece @jintaka-hane @armiliadawn @fanaticsnail @chibinasuu @daydreamer-in-training

[moonydustx]

Law buying an Bepo bear to his shy girlfriend!

I loved the idea! I made a small adjustment on the "buy" issue, I hope you don't hate me for it. And of course, I hope you like it.

The Bear and The Target

Lawx F!Reader

warnings: fluff, F!Reader is a little more shy/reserved in this one, Law is a great boyfriend (as always)

a/n: I really loved this idea, Law doing cute things for his s/o is my weakness.

requests here | rules and guides | masterlist

Comments, reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated.

The Park's lights almost blinded you, as well as people pushing against each other, competing to get to the most sought-after attractions first. Despite having your arm side by side with your boyfriend and watching him dodge the countless proposals of "try this game and win thousands of berris" "bet and compete for the top prize", you were still dazzled by how magical the place seemed. .

"Are the two annoying people going to be a couple for the whole park?" Penguin appeared at your side, taking your arm and watching Law sulk. "Captain, don't be annoying."

"Unfortunately, I'm here for work" he pointed out, turning his gaze towards you. "But you do not."

"And I can't go to work with you?" you asked

"It's not really a job, I just need to figure something out." he tried to dodge the question, not wanting to give too many details. "In the meantime, why don't you enjoy a little night with them?"

"We can go on the roller coaster and then go to the monster house."

"No monster house." you and Bepo responded in unison, both of you clearly unhappy with the proposal. "Can we go in the bumper cars?" Bepo proposed and saw you nod.

"See you later then?" you turned to your boyfriend, who just nodded and watched as you and the group of friends left.

As much as Law was against lying in any situation in a relationship, he had just lied to you and it wasn't one of the things he was most proud of, but he had a good reason.

A few months ago, on another island, he had seen you looking at a huge teddy bear and not buying it. It took a few days for the subject to come up and he asked you why you didn't ask and again, shyness was an excuse.

Law was a reserved person, by pure choice - and almost as a personal whim. However, you were indeed shy. The only people who could break your shell a little were your crewmates and even Law had had trouble starting to flirt with you, not being able to know if he was understanding the few signals you gave in the wrong way.

For that reason - and because his eyes almost exploded when he saw you do or have something cute - he knew that that park was the best place to find what he was looking for so much, that cute and huge bear.

He just didn't expect to find exorbitant prices or bears uglier than any patch he had ever heard of, it was impossible to find something perfect.

In the distance, he could see you and the other crew members gathering around a little tent, as he got closer he saw it was one of those old throwing games, where there was definitely some trickery hidden. Seeing you further away from the others, he arrived quietly, stopping right behind you.

"What are we doing?" When he saw you turn around, scared, his hands soon found your shoulders, reassuring you. "It's just me."

"It makes me calmer, but not less scared." you laughed, your hands itching to clasp against Law, but it wasn't something the two of you usually did in public. "Well, we're trying to win something."

"And you, why are you staying away?"

"This guy at this stand is one of those funny charlatan types who love to meddle." You held back a laugh, seeing his expression darken.

Before you could continue complaining about the man, Law's mind immediately wandered to what was in the background: an immense, white, perfectly stitched polar bear that was just an orange uniform away from transforming into Bepo.

"I am going to try." Law's speech surprised you, making you follow him to the edge of the bench.

"The pretty lady decided to try?" the man said in the most charlatan way possible, but Law responded immediately.

"No, in this case, her boyfriend." He took out some coins and placed them in front of the man. "Which one do I have to hit to win one of the prizes in that row?"

"That one." he pointed to the smallest of them all, further back. "But I warn you that it may take some time."

"Captain, everyone tried and no one succeeded." Bepo commented, clearly more concerned than he should be with the simple game. Meanwhile, you remained closer to him, silently watching the bet unfold.

"There, five rings, five chances." the man passed the pieces to Law.

He tried a few times in a row and failed each time. Both Law and his friends were already sighing frustrated with the fact that almost twenty-five rings thrown in a row had escaped the hole.

"There has to be some trickery in this." Law snapped, frustrated with not getting the bear he knew you wanted. "You're fooling us all!"

"Me cheating?" the man said cynically as he accepted more coins and gave Law more chances. "You offend me like this."

"Well, captain…" Shachi approached his side and picked up one of the rings, slamming it against the counter in front of the two. Soon after, he threw a small piece of paper towards the bow and hit it. "See, you're the bad one, captain."

Law quickly connected the dots. The rings were made of some metal material - which could interfere with the weight or even have a magnet pulling it - and the paper ball was not. One look was enough for Shachi and Penguin to understand that they had to act.

"I'll try again." Law muttered, more as a point of warning to his colleagues than anything else.

"Come on man, confess, there's a scam here." Penguin pulled the guy's arm in a falsely gentle way, stealing your attention along with it. "There's no point in deceiving us."

"I got it!" Law's surprised voice drew the two of you back to the captain's attempts, who was now smiling broadly in the man's direction. "So, my prize…"

"How did you get?" the man shouted indignantly, going to check if he had actually succeeded. "I mean, okay, you can choose your prize."

"Come on, you choose." Law turned to you, seeing your eyes light up at the proposal. "Although I already suspect what your decision is."

"The cute Bepo over there?" Your voice was excited, but in a way that only he heard.

Immediately, Law pointed to the huge white stuffed polar bear, which the man reluctantly removed from the wall. Law's laughter remained contained as he watched you almost itch to reach the bear that the man handed you.

"It's so cute!" You squeezed him, burying your face against his soft fur. "It's so good, it's the best gift I've ever gotten."

"This version of Bepo at least lets us squeeze him." Ikkaku joined you, squeezing the teddy bear as well and listening to the real version of Bepo's mumbles.

"You guys squeeze me too much sometimes, I need to breathe."

"We have the need to squeeze cute little things!" you pressed the plush against your arms.

There was a little relay of who would squeeze your bear - which yes, you nicknamed B2 or as Bepo, the second of his name - until they were back at Polar Tang.

"So, did you like the gift?" Law's voice entering the room was enough to cheer you up. "Does that mean he's already stolen my side of the bed?"

"Just until you come here."

"As if I wasn't already offended since you have to squeeze cute things." he grumbled and it only took seconds for you to throw yourself into his arms, covering any trace of skin and face you could find with smacking kisses.

"You.are.the.best.boyfriend.in.the.world." with each pause, it was a new time that your lips met Law's, this time causing a louder laugh to echo from him. "I loved the gift."

"And I'm glad you liked it." He quickly kissed your lips. "I'm going to take a shower, then can we spend some time together?"

"Me, you and B2?"

"Okay, just tonight. I'm surrounded by bears that give me a hard time." he pretended to be offended, knowing that your reaction would be another kiss on him.

Despite the grumblings - and the exorbitant amount of money spent on the attempts - the vision Law found was worth it. You lay on his bed, one of his t-shirts on your body and attached to your arms, the huge white bear. You matched cute things and for him, that would be worth any game - even if a certain devil fruit power had helped him this time.

[grandlinedreams]

Hello, I've been reading Ur fics lately (esp with law) and I love them

I was wondering if you could make angst? Like... Let's say there's this big battle, like the one in wano, where reader and law gets separated, but after the battle Law finds reader unconscious and being treated by chopper who then explains they had severe wounds and might need blood transfusion.

It also just happens that he was gonna confess to them after all of the chaos so that they'd be safe in his arms. And that might not even happen since now they have each foot on both worlds.

I'd imagine Law going along with talking to them even if they're unconscious just to keep them here in the living. (If they're alone ofc)

I hope that's alright

OUGH some angst my beloved,,,i can absolutely do that, I hope I do this justice for you!!

[Heads up!: angst, serious injuries, some brief medical talk, hurt/very little comfort, keeping in line w Law literally calling none of the Strawhats by their names, open-ended]

Truth be told, Law doesn't keep much of an eye on you during battles. It's hard enough keeping an eye on what the enemy is doing ㅡ especially if the Strawhats are involved. They ㅡ especially their captain ㅡ have a knack for blowing careful plans out of the water and he's forced to play damage control until it's over.

You're also fully capable of looking after yourself, and he trusts you and your skillset. So when he doesn't immediately find you once things have started settling down, he doesn't think much of it.

When five minutes turns to ten, then to fifteen, then half an hour, however, alarm bells start going off in his head. You've never taken this long to check in with him. Has something happened? Have you beenㅡ

No, he won't let himself think of that option. Not now, not ever. So he keeps as optimistic as reality will allow him ㅡ until he hears his name being called.

"Oi, Law!"

It's Sanji. "What is it, Blackleg?"

The blond's expression is his first warning that whatever it is, it isn't pleasant. "Chopper told me to come get you."

That's his second warning. Eyes narrowing and trying to rifle through potential scenarios from best case to worst, he follows Sanji silently until they reach where Chopper is ㅡ and Law stares at who the little reindeer is desperately trying to patch up.

It's you.

Part of him whispers harshly that this is par for the course, that he's worn out his luck in terms of keeping you safe ㅡ another notes that he's never seen you look more fragile.

"What happened." It's a demand as he takes in the bandages all over you, trying not to think about how most of them are already soaked with blood. Your blood.

He barely hears the explanation above the rising ringing in his ears, but he gathers enough to find it in himself to mentally curse your perchance for heroics. He's told you time and time again that your self-sacrificing attitude will get you into trouble, and now it has. (As if he isn't guilty of it too from time to time, but that's neither here nor there.)

"They need a transfusion," he says, kneels to gather you into his arms, trying not to focus on how limp you are. "I'll take it from here."

If Chopper protests, he doesn't stick around long enough to hear it. From the second he sets foot back on the Polar Tang, it's a blur.

Bandages are stripped from you and replaced, an IV of fluid in one arm, blood in the other. One of the defaults to joining the crew is letting him know blood type so he has it on hand, and he's never been more grateful to have it and less so that he needs to use it.

For the next few hours, Law hardly blinks, barely lets himself breathe ㅡ afraid that somewhere between, you'll slip from him. He can feel the cold circle of death around you, measuring, evaluating. Deciding if you go, or if you stay.

He wants you to stay. If there were ever a way to guarantee that you do, he'd do it now ㅡ but there isn't. So he sits, counts your breath (in, out. Up, down.), and waits.

And he talks.

He tells you that you're a pain, that you need to stop thinking so much of others before yourself, that a quality like that is only admirable until it means a grave instead of life. That you shouldn't be so cavalier with your time, that there are people who care about you, and what are they supposed to do if you die?

He means himself in that too. He's gotten accustomed to your presence, the way you've slotted your way into his routines and habits like you belong, and perhaps, were he a romantic, he'd say you always have. But he hardly has time for that, barely lets himself entertain it ㅡ too soft, too ideal, too good to be true. Always too much of something.

But he wants it, wants you ㅡ wonders if he'll even get the slimmest chance to tell you now. Law could tell you now, but he doesn't. He's afraid if he does, it'll tip the scales further from his favor and he'll undoubtedly lose you.

He can't do that.

It isn't fair ㅡ but when has the world ever felt fit to treat him in a way that could ever be seen as kind enough to be called fair?

[worstjourney]

The Millennials' Polar Expedition

A year ago today (23 Nov 2022), I launched Worst Journey Vol.1 at the Scott Polar Research Institute. This is the text of the speech I gave to the lovely people who turned up to celebrate.

As many of you know, my interest in the Terra Nova Expedition was sparked by Radio 4’s dramatisation of The Worst Journey in the World, now 14 years ago.  The story is an incredible story, and it got its claws into me, but what kept me coming back again and again were the people.  I couldn’t believe anyone so wonderful had ever really existed.  So when I finally succumbed to obsession and started reading all the books, it was the expedition members’ own words which I most cherished.  These were not always easy to come by, though, so plenty of popular histories were consumed as well.  Reading both in tandem, it soon became clear that, while there were some good books out there, there was a lot of sloppy research in the polar echo chamber as well.

I also discovered that no adaptation had attempted to get across the full scope of the expedition.  There has never been a full and fair dramatic retelling, all having been limited by time, budget, or ideology from telling the whole story truthfully.  I was determined that my adaptation would be both complete and accurate, and be as accountable as possible to those precious primary documents and the people who wrote them.

So the years of research began.  I moved to Cambridge to be able to drop in at SPRI and make the most of the archives.  Getting to Antarctica seemed impossible, but I went to New Zealand to get at least that much right, and on the way back stayed with relatives in Alberta, the most Antarctic place I could realistically visit.  I gathered reference for objects wherever I could.  Because Vol.1 takes place mainly on the Terra Nova, which is now a patch of sludge on the seabed off Greenland, I cobbled together a Franken-Nova in my mind, between the Discovery up in Dundee and the Star of India in San Diego.  I spent a week on a Jubilee Sailing Trust ship in order to depict tall-ship sailing correctly.  I’m sure I’ve still got loads of things wrong, but I did all I could, to get as much as I could, right.

But still, everyone I met who had been to Antarctica said, “you can’t understand Antarctica until you’ve been there, and you can’t tell the story without understanding Antarctica; you have to go.”  So I applied to the USAP’s Antarctic Artists and Writers Program, with faint hope, as they do “Ahrt” and I draw cartoons.  But I must have blagged a good grant proposal, because a year after applying, I was stepping out of a C-17 onto the Ross Ice Shelf.  The whole trip would have been worth it just to stand there, turn in a circle, and see how all the familiar photographs fit together.  But the USAP’s generosity didn’t stop there, and in the next month I saw Hut Point, Arrival Heights, the Beardmore Glacier (including the moraine on which the Polar Party stopped to “geologise”), and Cape Crozier, and made three visits to the Cape Evans hut.  Three!  On top of the visual reference I got priceless qualitative data.  The hardness of the sound.  The surprising warmth of the sun. The sugary texture of the snow.  The keen edge on a slight breeze.  The way your fingertips and toes can start to go when the rest of you is perfectly warm.  The SHEER INSANITY of Cape Crozier.  The veterans were right – I couldn’t have drawn it without having been there, but now I have, and can, and I am more grateful than I can ever adequately express.  With all these resources laid so copiously at my feet, all I had to do was sit down and draw the darn thing.  Luckily I have some very sound training to back me up on that.

Now, this is all very well for the how of making the book, and, I hope, interesting enough. But why?  Why am I putting so much effort into telling this story, and why now?

Well, it means a lot to me personally.  To begin to understand why, you need to know that I grew up in the 80s and 90s, at the height of individualist, goal-oriented, success-driven, dog-eat-dog, devil-take-the-hindmost neoliberalism.  It was just assumed that humans, when you get right down to it, were basically self-interested jerks, and I saw plenty of them around so I had no reason to question this assumption.  The idea was that if you did everything right, and worked really hard, you could retire at 45 to a yacht in the Bahamas, and if you didn’t retire to a yacht, well, you just hadn’t tried hard enough.  Character, in the sense of rigorous personal virtue, was for schmucks.  What mattered was success.  Even as my politics evolved, I still took it as a given that this was how the world worked, and that was how people generally were – after all, there was no lack of corroborating evidence.  So: I worked really hard.  I single-mindedly pursued my self-interest.  I made sacrifices, and put in the time, and fought my way into my dream job and all the success I could have asked for.

And then I met the Terra Nova guys.

What struck me most about them was that even when everything was going wrong, when their expectations were shattered and they had to face the cruellest reality, they were still kind.  Not backbiting, recriminating, blame-throwing, defensive, or mean, as one would expect – they were lovely to each other, patient, supportive, self-sacrificing; in fact the worse things got, the better they were.  They still treated each other as friends even when it wasn’t in their self-interest, was even contrary to their self-interest.  I didn’t know people could be like that.  But there they were, in plain writing, being thoroughly, bafflingly, decent.  Not just the Polar Party – everyone had to face their own brutal realities at some point, and they all did so with a grace I never thought possible.

It presented a very important question:

When everything goes belly-up, and you’re facing the worst, what sort of person will you be?

Or perhaps more acutely: What sort of person would you rather be with?

It was so contrary to the world I lived in, to the reality I knew – it was a peek into an alternate dimension, populated entirely with lovely, lovely people, who really, genuinely believed that “it’s not whether you win or lose, but how you play the game,” and behaved accordingly.  It couldn’t be real.  There had to be a deeper, unpleasant truth: that was how the world worked, after all.  I kept digging, expecting to hit bottom at some point, but I only found more gold, all the way down.  How could I not spend my life on this?

Mythology exists to pass on a culture’s values, moral code, and survival information – how to face challenges and prevail.  Scott’s story entered the British mythology, and had staying power, because it exemplified those things so profoundly for the culture that created and received it.  But the culture changed, and there were new values; Scott’s legacy was first inverted and then cast aside.  The new culture needed a new epic hero.  You’d think it would be Amundsen, the epitome of ruthless success, but “Make Plan – Execute Plan – Go Home” has no mythic value, so he didn’t stick.  The hero needed challenges, he needed setbacks, and he needed to win, on our terms.

Shackleton!  Shackleton was a winner!  Shackleton told us what we knew to be true and wanted to hear at epic volume: that if you want something badly enough, and try really hard, you will succeed!  (Especially if you can control the narrative.)  Scott, on the other hand, tells us that if you want something badly enough, and try really hard . . . you may nevertheless die horribly in the snow.  Nobody wants to hear that!  What a downer!  I think it’s no coincidence that Shackleton exploded into popular culture in the late 90s and has dominated it ever since: he is the mythic hero of the zeitgeist. I am always being asked if I’ll be doing Shackleton next.  He has six graphic novels already!  That is plenty!  But people still want to tell and be told his story, because it’s a heroic myth that validates our worldview.

That’s why I am so determined to tell the Scott story, because Scott is who we don’t realise we need right now – and Wilson, and Bowers, and Cherry, and Atch, and all the rest.  The Terra Nova Expedition is the Millennials’ polar expedition.  We’ve worked really hard, we’ve done everything we were supposed to, we made what appeared to be the right decisions at the time, and we’re still losing.  Nothing in the mythology we’ve been fed has prepared us for this.  No amount of positive attitude is going to change it.  We have all the aphorisms in the world, but what we need is an example of how to behave when the chips are down, when the Boss is not sailing into the tempest to rescue us, when the Yelcho is not on the horizon.  When circumstances are beyond your power to change, how do you make the best of your bad situation?  What does that look like? Even if you can’t fix anything, how do you make it better for the people around you – or at the very least, not worse?  Scott tells us: you can be patient, supportive, and humble; see who needs help and offer it; be realistic but don’t give in to despair; and if you’re up against a wall with no hope of rescue, go out in a blaze of kindness.  We learn by imitation: it’s easy to say these things, but to see them in action, in much harder circumstances than we will ever face, is a far greater help.  And to see them exemplified by real, flawed, complicated people like us is better still; they are not fairy-tale ideals, they are achievable. Real people achieved them.

My upbringing in the 80s milieu of selfishness, which set me up to receive the Scott story so gratefully, is hardly unique.  There are millions of us who are hungry for a counter-narrative.  My generation is desperate for demonstrations of caring, whether it’s activism or social justice or government policies that don’t abandon the vulnerable.  We’ve seen selfishness poison the world, and we want an alternative.  The time for competition is past; we must cooperate or perish, but we don’t know how to do it because our mythology is founded on competition.  The Scott story, if told properly, explodes the Just World Fallacy, and liberates us from the lie that has ruled our lives: that you make your own luck.  What happens, happens: what matters is how you respond to it.  My obsession with accuracy is in part to honour the men, and in part because Cherry was the ultimate stickler and he’d give me a hard time if I didn’t, but also because, if I’m telling the story to a new generation, I’m damn well going to make sure we get that much RIGHT.  It’s been really interesting to see, online, how my generation and the next have glommed onto polar exploration narratives, not as thrilling feats of derring-do, but as emotional explorations of found family and cooperative resilience.  We love them because they love each other, and loving each other helps get them through, and we want – we need – to see how that’s done.  It’s time to give them the Terra Nova story, and to tell it fully, fairly, and honestly, in all its complexity, because that is how their example is most useful to us.  Not as gods, and not as fools, but as real human beings who were excellent to each other in the face of disaster.  I only hope that I, a latecomer to their ways, can do them justice.

[penkura]

Under the Mistletoe

Summary: The Heart Pirates try to get you and Shachi to celebrate the holidays under the mistletoe!

Note: I wanna kiss Shachi plssss

Note 2: Also tomorrow's is gonna be super self indulgent, hope you guys don't mind. 💚

“So, what’s the plan?”

“Just get them both and shove them under the mistletoe of course!”

Sighing, Penguin shakes his head at Ikkaku’s statement, though he knows that’s exactly that’s going to happen. It’s a good thing you and Shachi aren’t around to hear all of this, to learn your crewmates are going to do whatever they can this holiday season to get you together. Most of them who have noticed your mutual feelings have anxiously watched over the last few months to see if anything happened.

You haven’t been with the Heart Pirates for more than six months, but Shachi attached himself to you almost instantly, offering to show you around and teach you as much as he could when Law said he wanted someone to do so. You were nervous about the new place and all these new people, but with Shachi at your side you quickly overcame it and integrated into the crew easily. Ikkaku watched you closely when it was just you and Shachi together, leading her to fully believe there’s something there neither of you will admit yet.

A few times Shachi has tried to ask you out but backed down at the last second, you’ve leaned more into him, especially when the Polar Tang approached colder waters, Ikkaku watching and swearing to Penguin that you two are almost there. You just need one more push, she’s sure of it.

“Ikkaku, what if we just, you know,” Penguin shrugs, not sure how to word it, “Let it go and let them handle it.”

“Cause Shachi looks just as nervous as she did her first day here! He’s not going to make a move, so we need to do it for them!”

Although he does get it and agrees (only a little), Penguin still thinks you two should be left alone to handle whatever feelings you may have for each other. But he also knows Shachi like the back of his hand, and it makes him sigh before nodding.

“All right…how are we gonna do this?”

“I’m so glad you asked!”

~~

Penguin still isn’t sure about this, but he’s trusting Ikkaku and her plan. She’s got everyone set where she wants them for the party that night, the only people not involved are you, Shachi, and Law, since your captain wants nothing to do with this scheme. He’s of the same mind Penguin is, so Law ignores everyone getting into place with a roll of his eyes.

You’ve bene helping Hakugan in the kitchen most of the day while Shachi has been watching the navigation systems with Bepo, you two haven’t really been around each other much that day. Neither of you knows anything about what your crewmates have planned, though it’s very simple.

Ikkaku is going to meet Shachi when he and Bepo start heading to the party, moving him along faster while Uni starts talking to you about the known plans for the night, he’s going to start leasing you towards the doorway where Jean Bart has fixed up the mistletoe that someone bought on the last island for tonight. Once you’re both close enough, your friends are going to shove you both under it, Penguin is supposed to be the one to point it out and, for Ikkaku, hopefully cause you two to kiss.

She’s sure it’s fool proof, especially when her end starts to go well. She meets with Shachi and Bepo, talking with them as they head towards the common area. Ikkaku grins to herself when she sees you walking towards the doorway with Uni, she moves into just the right spot to push Shachi forward at the same time Uni does to you, only it’s a bit early and you almost fall face first to the ground.

Luckily Shachi moves fast enough to catch you before you hit the ground.

“Hey, be careful!” Shachi gives you a smile that you return, nodding at him, “Don’t need you to see Captain for a patching up before the party!”

“W-Well…” sighing, you sheepishly lift your hand that wrapped in a bloodied towel and Shachi almost goes pale, “Already on the way there! Knife slipped and I stabbed myself, Hakugan helped me stop the bleeding but I need Captain to check it.”

“I’ll go with you!”

He tries not to rush you out and towards Law, but does it anyway, making sure to keep your hand up so the bleeding doesn’t start again. Shachi apologizes if he’s hurting you at all and Ikkaku let’s out a frustrated sigh once you’re both gone.

“Damn it, that’s so unfair.”

Penguin laughs at her and the others when they look so disappointed, even as Ikkaku kicks him.

~~

“You know, you two should just tell everyone already.”

You and Shachi both tilt your heads at Law’s statement, confused by what he means. You got away with very few stitches in your hand, your captain said you were lucky but there must be something about the holidays and injuries since this has happened before with others.

“That you’re dating. Ikkaku-ya was trying to get you two to kiss tonight.”

“What?”

“In front of the whole crew.”

“Oh, lord.”

Shachi’s face goes red while you roll your eyes with a sigh. You hadn’t really wanted this out yet quite yet, but if there’s going to be plans to force you and Shachi into romantic situations, it might be about time, even though the whole thing is still new to the both of you as well. The only ones who know are Law and Penguin, the latter keeping it to himself even with all of Ikkaku’s planning.

You were thinking about telling her soon, but you’re not sure about it at the moment.

“Sorry, Captain,” Shachi gets over his embarrassment quickly and puts an arm around your shoulders to lead you out of the office, “We’ll talk about it so you’re not involved in this stuff again!”

“Sure, whatever.”

It makes you giggle lightly, hugging him around the waist once you’re out of Law’s office.

“I’m still surprised no one has figured it out.”

“Right?” Shachi leans down just enough to kiss your forehead, “I thought maybe Penguin would’ve told them by now, but he’s been great at keeping it secret.”

“I’ve got a great idea then,” you step up on your tiptoes just enough to kiss his nose, making him giggle at you, “Why don’t we go stand under the mistletoe for a bit and make Ikkaku’s plan work?”

“Sounds good to me~”

[brittle-doughie]

Hi! This is the Anonymous that asked if I could share my OC x Y/N character- here she is.

Heres some lore dump and ideas:

Concord Grape Cookie originated near the Kulfi Village in Beast-Yeast. Where she learnt basic first aid and even knew how to make Lassi herself. As a young cookie, she tends to sketch and draw a lot of the environment around her. So by the time she was old enough to traverse outside of where she lived, she went to Crispia by boat. While she lived in Crispia, she first explored the vast lands and sketched all of her adventures... But how, and why did she become a doctor? Well, on her adventures, she tends to see injured cookies from fighting and other natural causes. Which drove her to learn to become a healer under a mentor near the old ruins of Vanilla Kingdom, so she could patch up and help other cookies. (The mask she wears was a gift from her parents back in Beast-Yeast btw- oops-) And she ended up stumbling upon the... Well. Player's kingdom, and ended up meeting Y/N Cookie. Then after some mishaps from mostly Y/N Cookie both, eventually became friends despite being a bit of polar opposites. Concord Grape Cookie couldn't help but find Y/N Cookie a bit endearing, even if... They're a bit strange in her eyes. And found herself sketching them from time to time. ~~She never shows Y/N the sketches she made. ~~ and slowly Concord Grape Cookie realized she may... Like Y/N Cookie... Though she also realizes they literally have a fiancé. Albeit a bit insane... But don't tell her she said that! So she keeps them to herself. Even to this day.

Relationship/Dynamic:

She treats Y/N cookie like a mother does to her four-year-old who refuses to go to sleep at 11. Yet can also play therapist and comforter for Y/N if they need it.

((THIS IS SO LENGTHY, I AM VERY SORRY- Please have a great day! Once again I am sorry if her lore dump makes no sense, cause I'm still working on it ajdjsj. And ignore this if you'd like, and yes if you want to... You can use this OC anytime.))

I’d say this was a fine gathering of ideas coming together for a character.

[black-cat-luck]

hmm can I have dick Grayson head cannons when he plans a party

YEA!!!⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ༺♡♱⋆🦇⋆♱♡༻

𖥔 Dicks party planning is VERY serious and he will not hear otherwise on the matter. There are multiple steps, charts, lists, and a few clipboards. He will make sure everything is perfect.

𖥔 The first party of the year is usually New Years, Which technically is carrying over from the last year, (but don’t let him hear you say that). Dick loves New Years, he loves watching the ball drop, and has a drafted up speech about how much the people in the room mean to him, and how happy he is to start another new year all together.

𖥔 He doesn’t throw a party for the smaller holidays, Valentines is spent with his partner, or if he’s single, Wally. Easter is more of just a family dinner and some chocolate.

𖥔 Halloween parties are scarce because they’re usually all busy on the night because goons decide everyone wearing masks is a free pass to commit crimes.

𖥔 If he does throw a Halloween party it’s on a different day than the actual holiday and he does make everyone go to a corn maze and pumpkin patch all together.

𖥔 He goes big on Christmas, he loves the holiday and loves having everyone together. It’s less of a party, and more of a week long of just, family time.

𖥔 They go on drives through light shows, and to look at people’s lights on their houses. They go sledding, and make a snowman in the front yard of the manor, then mourn the snowman when he becomes victim of their snowball fight. He makes hot chocolate and cookies and everyone bundles together to watch the polar express.

𖥔 On Christmas morning he’s the first awake, like a little kid he goes to each persons door waking them up and dragging them downstairs, always priding himself on getting the best gifts.

𖥔 Dick absolutely loves the holidays, and throwing parties on them.

𖥔 But birthdays? Those are a whole other level of serious. Everyone gets a surprise party, everyone knows it’s happening but still has to act surprised, everyone knows exactly what time to be at the manor to be “surprised”.

𖥔 Dick usually doesn’t accept help with party planning, he wants it to be a him thing, and mostly because he’s worried someone else will mess it up, and it has to be perfect, because it’s a party for someone he loves and they deserve it being perfect.

𖥔 Eventually he accepts help when it comes to hanging banners or blowing up balloons. He has everything planned out to a T, who’s keeping the birthday person busy and away, who’s putting the candles on the cake, who’s helping Alfred set the table as he makes their favorite dinner.

𖥔 It always ends up being perfect, even the year when Dick fell from a ladder and broke a wrist. Even the year when Steph and Tim bumped into one another and sent the birthday cake straight to the floor. Even the year when no one realized Jason hadn’t been informed of their tradition and he pulled a gun on them when they all jumped out and yelled “surprise!”

𖥔 No matter what happens the party is perfect, even if Dick doesn’t think so, because even if there’s mishaps or slip ups, it was done with so much love that everyone is grateful and happy, even if they complained about not needing a party.

𖥔 At the end of the year Dick gets to wrap it all up again with his new year party, his cheesy “I love you guys” speech, and truly just being happy that everyone is together, and he gets to spend another year with his family. And when the clock strikes midnight, he holds his tradition and kisses his partner, or if single, Wally. And he’s just as excited to enjoy the first party of the year.

༺♡♱⋆🦇⋆♱♡༻

This was a fun one thank you for requesting!! I hope you enjoyed! ᡣ𐭩

[marvelmusing]

Helping Hand

Pairing: Alpha!Billy Russo x Fem!Omega!Reader

Summary: As your boss, Billy has always taken care of you. When your heat becomes too difficult to handle, he takes care of you once again.

Warnings [18+]: smut, unprotected sex, fingering, a/b/o dynamics and anatomy, brief mentions of Billy’s childhood.

Word Count: 5.4K

My Masterlist

“Where the hell have they gone?” you grumble to yourself as you open the same kitchen cabinet for the third time. Unfortunately, the little green box you’re searching for doesn’t miraculously appear in front of your eyes and nerves stir in the pit of your stomach.

Huffing out a sigh of frustration, you lean against the kitchen counter and pick up the tiny handheld fan, clicking the button on the side rather aggressively as you hover the fan over your neck, tilting your head back to achieve maximum cooling from the little device.

Just as you’re considering emptying the contents of your entire kitchen, you hear a knock at your front door.

His scent is recognisable before you even open your front door. Fresh cotton, expensive cologne, and his own unique fragrance that is undeniably Billy Russo. The alpha you’ve been working for over the last year and a half as his personal assistant.

He’s dressed for work, hair slicked back perfectly with his suit and tie all arranged neatly on his figure. The polar opposite of you, currently wearing a small cami top and a pair of sweatpants hanging low on your hips.

His nostrils flare slightly as he breathes in the scent of your apartment, the air thick with your oncoming heat. But you aren’t concerned by his reaction. If there’s one thing you’ve learnt about Billy, it’s that he has a godly level of restraint when it comes to his instincts.

It’s a little harder for you and the rush of his scent has you gritting your teeth to suppress the urge to tug him closer and bite.

“Looking for these?” he asks, holding out a small box. “You left them on your desk.”

Just what you had been searching for. The box of patches that would curb some of the effects of your heat, making it more manageable without a partner to take care of you.

“Thank you so much.” Heaving a sigh of relief, you take the box from him with a grateful smile. “You’re an absolute lifesaver.”

He flashes you a wide smile.

“I could get used to hearing that.”

Breathing out a small laugh, you smile at him.

“I’m sure you could.”

His smile softens as he leans his shoulder casually against your doorframe, giving him the proximity to study your expression intently.

“You need anything else?” he asks.

Shaking your head, you look down at his shoes, shinning with polish that you can still smell the remnants of on his fingertips, almost buried beneath the eucalyptus soap he uses. He must have polished them this morning.

“I’m mostly sorted, thanks.” He nods slowly in response. “Do you…?”

He lifts a brow, encouraging you to continue. Anvil is the closest thing you have to a pack, meaning Billy is the closest thing you have to an alpha, and your pre-heat omega brain is urging you to provide for him.

“Do you want to come in for some coffee?”

He glances down subtly towards his watch and warmth blooms over your skin as you remember that he has to get to work soon. Unlike you who has been given the entire week off.

“Sorry- I’ll let you get to work.”

He places his hand firmly on your door to prevent you from shutting it as you step backwards.

“No, no. I’d love a coffee,” he says, pausing to look into your eyes. “If that’s okay?”

You nod, leaving the door open for him to follow you into your apartment.

Selecting your two favourite mugs, you begin making the coffee, aware of Billy unbuttoning the front of his jacket before he rests his elbows casually on your kitchen island. The weight of his eyes on you send a flood of warmth through your body and you pick up the box of patches.

Gesturing lightly with the box, you don’t dare to risk a glance at him as you say,

“You don’t mind if I…?”

He shakes his head resolutely.

“Not at all.”

As the kettle simmers on the stove, you retreat to your bedroom. In your eagerness to remove your sweatpants, the cuffs remain stuck to your ankles, and you wrestle with the fabric frantically for a moment. Once you’re done, a thin sheen of sweat is glossing over your brow which you wipe away with your palm.

Rummaging through your closet, you tug out a part of loose cotton shorts and pull them on.

The patches you buy can be placed anywhere on your body, but for you the dose is most effective on your inner thighs. Peeling the wrappers off hurriedly, you place one on each thigh and feel them instantaneously ease the discomfort that had been building in your body. A soft groan of relief rumbles in your throat as you tilt your head back, breathing heavily as you are finally able to relax.

Freshening up in the bathroom a little first, you feel a lot more put together as you return to the kitchen and continue making the coffee.

“Better?” he asks, his gaze dropping down momentarily to eye your bare legs.

“Yeah thanks.”

He nods with a small smile.

“No problem.”

“Thanks for giving me the week off,” you add as you pour his mug of coffee.

He shakes his head, offering you a nod of appreciation as you nudge his steaming mug towards him.

“I’ve told you before, you don’t gotta thank me for that.”

“I know. But you don’t have to give me the week off.”

He shrugs casually, sipping on his coffee. There’s a pleased hum from Billy as he swallows the drink and internally you preen at the thought of pleasing him.

“You always make sure my schedule’s clear during my rut,” he reasons.

That’s true. Billy’s rut only usually lasts a few days, and you hum quietly in acknowledgement before you speak without thinking.

“A week on Tuesday. We started syncing a few months ago.”

Syncing usually happens when an unmated alpha and omega spend the majority of their time together, ensuring that your cycles wouldn’t coincide with one another’s.

Billy raises a brow at you, the corner of his mouth twitching when he observes you realise what you had just said.

“I know it’s got nothing to do with me, but I’m glad you don’t take suppressants. I’ve seen too many omegas make themselves miserable for the sake of pretending to be a beta.”

Looking down, you shrug lightly, not disagreeing with him but still feeling the need to defend omegas who do take them. Suppressants don’t stop a heat from happening, but they remove the scent and make the symptoms easier to manage, so that most omegas can continue with their daily lives during their heat. For some omegas, like you, the negative side effects outweigh the positives, but you can understand the benefits.

“Sometimes they’re the safest option.”

“I know,” he says softly. There’s a level of understanding in his tone that makes you frown.

Billy has always been a considerate boss when it comes to the differences between you and some of his other employees. Due to the nature of the business, there aren’t many omegas working at Anvil. The majority of the field operatives and trainers are all alphas, with a handful of betas. Even on the administrative side of things, it’s mostly betas. The number of omegas can probably be counted on both your hands, which is something that you think bothers Billy.

Aside from the private military services, a lot of Anvil’s clients are omegas, or high-ranking alphas looking for extra protection for their mate. There are times where Billy comes off as intimidating but having you by his side always seems to ease the tension from some of the more nervous clients – the omegas seeking protection from abusive or unstable alphas.

Shifting in your seat, you try to ignore the slick in your panties, hoping that Billy won’t notice the scent. Billy is ridiculously observant and highly tuned into what an omega needs. The moment a distressed omega is in his vicinity, he seems to know.

He swallows down the last of his coffee and you don’t want him to leave.

“I finished off those reports,” you say, eager to continue talking with him even for a few moments longer.

He frowns slightly.

“No more work from now onwards until you’re back in the office.”

When you smile at him, he gives you a look that has you sighing.

“Okay.”

He smiles, standing up and placing his mug in the sink.

“Thanks for the coffee.”

“No problem.”

He hesitates.

“I’ll send you a text in a few days, just to check in.”

You nod. Billy is somewhat aware of how your heats end up. The worst is usually over after the first two days.

“Thanks.”

“Look after yourself, alright?”

“I will.”

»»---------------------►

The moment Billy sees you calling his mobile he presses the answer button, standing up from his desk mid-conversation with the senator and turning to face the window as he says your name. The high-pitched whine that he gains in response sends a thrum of need through his body, but he needs a verbal confirmation that you aren’t hurt before he allows himself to indulge in thoughts of you.

He repeats your name and when you don’t respond he does something he’s never done to you before, putting a commanding edge into his voice as he says,

“Omega? Talk to me, sweetheart.”

“Billy. I need you.”

A pathetic half-cry half-sob escapes your lips, and when it reaches Billy’s ears he clenches his jaw so hard he feels it in the base of his skull. He breathes out slowly.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s so bad Billy. I’m so wet and empty and I can’t finish by myself.”

With Billy’s ears hyper focusing on every minute sound from your end of the line, he can hear the sound of your wetness as you slide your fingers erratically, chasing your pleasure. A low groan rumbles in the back of his throat that he fights to suppress.

“You tried your fingers?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“And your toys too?”

He hears you huff with a small growl as you snap weakly,

“Yes Billy. I can’t do it.”

There isn’t much bite to your words, but the fact that you’re talking back at him means you aren’t thinking clearly. Billy needs to bring you back to yourself enough to talk to him coherently.

“I don’t like that tone, sweetheart,” he says sternly. Then his voice softens, “I know you’re hurting but you need to be patient for me. Alright?”

“Sorry, Billy.”

He doesn’t like the sound of you whimpering so sadly.

“It’s okay. I’m gonna count to ten and you’re gonna breathe for me, alright? In for one, out for two.”

He talks you through the rest of the numbers, counting upwards until your breathing is less frantic and your whines have stopped. Billy stays quiet once he’s done, listening to your bed sheets rustling as you sit up.

“Billy?”

There’s confusion in your voice and the sound is clearer - you must have placed the phone up by your ear to talk to him.

“Hey sweetheart. How you feeling?”

“Awful.” He hears you breathe out a small laugh before you pause to think. “Did I call you?”

“Yeah you did. You were having a bit of a frenzy.”

“Shit. Billy, I’m so sorry-”

“Do you want me to come over?”

“What?”

Billy can’t stop himself from smirking at the dumbfoundedness in your voice, as his question catches you off guard.

For a moment, all you can do is stammer over your words but Billy gives you time.

“You don’t have to,” you whisper quietly.

“And if I wanna help you?”

“You’re at work.”

“I’m the boss, sweetheart. I can leave right now if you want me to.”

He can hear you thinking it over and he wonders whether your worry about being a nuisance will be overruled by the need between your thighs.

“I want you to.”

»»---------------------►

It seems like forever before Billy arrives at your apartment.

His scent and the sound of his voice are what alert you to his presence, even before the knock on your door is encouraging you to tug on a bathrobe and hurry to the door.

In the back of your mind, you’re aware that he’s talking to someone in the corridor but that hardly matters to you as you open the door and wrap your arms around his neck. He catches you immediately, firm hands on your waist as you press yourself against his chest and nuzzle your nose into the hollow of his throat.

He chuckles quietly and the motion of it sways your body as you cling to him.

“Hey sweetheart.”

“Missed you so much,” you mumble into his shirt, breathing in the scent of him.

The sound of someone saying your name draws your attention somewhat back to the present and you turn your head to see Emily, the beta that lives next door to you and always handles your deliveries when you’re in heat. She also wards away any alphas who linger too long beside your front door.

“I didn’t know you had an alpha,” Emily says.

A purr rumbles in your throat as you absentmindedly begin to nuzzle against him once again. Then you nod.

“I asked him to come over.”

He flashes her a smile that has you weak in the knees.

“Billy Russo.”

She nods.

“Okay, Billy Russo. But if you even think about hurting her…”

Billy removes his hands from you, holding them up in surrender as he nods.

“I wouldn’t dream of it. She’s more than just an omega to me.”

Weakly, you tug on his tie, fidgeting with the luxurious material as you struggle to remain focused on their conversation and wish it would be over soon.

Luckily, Emily seems to be appeased by the charming alpha and before you know it Billy is stepping into your apartment.

Alphas are naturally strong and you know that being a marine had allowed Billy to hone his strength to an almost supernatural level. As a result, it feels like the easiest thing in the world when he lifts you into his arms, your legs curling around his waist instantly.

“You came,” you sigh. He smiles at you.

“Course I did. I said I would, didn’t I?”

His forehead grazes against yours, the tip of your nose almost touching his.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks.

“Please.”

The moment your lips meet, pleasure buzzes in the back of your head, threading its way down your spine, and you moan softly. His mouth moves leisurely, but you can sense how eager he is with each determined tilt of his head in an attempt to get closer to you.

He sets you down at the threshold of your bedroom and a rush of self consciousness prickles over your skin as he observes the tangle of blankets and sheets and cushions that consist of your nest.

He presses a kiss to your temple and you shiver as he asks softly,

“You mind if we change these sheets first? They smell like frustration - need some happy smells for a little omega to relax on.”

You nod.

As Billy gets to work, tugging the sweat soaked sheets off your mattress, you walk over to the side of the room and switch on both your nightlight and air freshener.

He opens up your side cabinet, picking up the bottle of cologne that sits there. The same cologne he wears to work.

All omegas have a comfort scent, something that helps soothe them on lonely nights before they find their mate, and you’re one of the lucky ones that has found their comfort in a bottle that can be spritzed onto your pillow.

Billy sprays a little into the air above your mattress, allowing the tiny drops of fragrance to linger in the air and settle into the fabrics of your nest.

“You’re good at this,” you say softly. “Knowing what I need but still asking for permission for the important stuff.”

His presence alone has reduced some of the burning need inside you, though you both know that this calm won’t last long.

Billy keeps his eyes low as he soothes out a wrinkle in the sheets, shrugging lightly as he says,

“Lotta omegas present early when they have a dysfunctional pack dynamic and the group home I grew up in was run by a beta.”

Aside from mentions of Frank - an alpha he served with - Billy has never talked about his family. He gives Anvil the same dedication that would be given to an alpha’s pack, and now you understand why.

“You grew up in a group home?” He nods and there’s a small pause before you ask, “Is that why you don’t like the idea of suppressants?”

He lifts his eyes up to meet yours. Then he nods again.

“Kids shouldn’t have to deal with meds like that.”

Nodding in agreement, you sit down in front of him as he settles himself against your headboard.

“You’re a good alpha, Billy.”

He smiles softly as he loosens his tie, pulling the fabric away from his throat before he begins to unbutton his shirt.

“Yeah?” he breathes out.

Staring down at his throat, you hum as you nod.

“Why do you think that?”

A frown creases at your brows as you register his question. Knowing why Billy is a good alpha is the easiest answer in the world, but the sight of his bare chest has you scrambling for words.

“Because you’re strong and kind and you protect so many omegas. You make me feel safe.”

He hands you his shirt and suit jacket, giving you an encouraging nod to add the clothes into your nest. His scent fills your nose and you try your hardest not to moan.

His chest is smooth and the urge to lick over his skin, leaving bite marks and scratches, is almost too much to bear. There’s a few scars littered over his body and you want to kiss every single one of them.

Once he’s completely naked, and you’re enveloped by his scent, he hooks a finger under the edge of your bathrobe that’s hanging onto your shoulder. He nudges it down, and the silky material pools around your body.

“Look at you,” he breathes out.

His gaze falls downwards, to the spot between your thighs, and you flush with realisation when you see your legs already parted widely as you kneel in front of him, presenting your glistening wetness to him.

“Turn around.”

Confusion fills your features as you stare at him but after a small pause you do as you’re told.

“Come lie with me.”

Soon you’re lying with your back against his chest, his arms around your stomach as your ass sits perched on his adonis belt. He nuzzles his nose against your cheek and your entire body heats up within seconds, melting your coherency.

Billy smiles, hooking his legs over yours to spread them wide. He traces his fingers over your inner thigh.

“Little omega, you want to touch yourself like this, or d’you want me to do it?”

Dropping your head backwards onto his shoulder, you whine pitifully before responding,

“Can you do it, please?”

He presses a kiss to your cheek.

“Of course, pretty girl.” He reaches down to peel off the patches stuck to your skin. “Let’s take these off first…” He stills when your fingers curl around his wrist to stop him. “Something wrong?”

“If you take them off, it’ll get worse.”

He shakes his head, smoothing his thumb gently over the material of the patch and you shiver at the warmth of his touch.

“Sweetheart, look how faded they are, they’re not helping you anymore.”

He’s right. The patches have gone from a soft tan colour to almost completely white. Giving him a nod, you whimper quietly as he begins to remove them.

In your desperation, you had stuck two on each thigh and by the time Billy has finished peeling them carefully from your skin your slick has smeared all over his stomach and you’re burning with need and embarrassment.

His finger slides in easily and a gasp chokes you as he reaches a spot further inside you than your own hands have ever reached. He moans softly against your ear, mouthing a few kisses over your jawline.

He curls his finger and you cry out. Canting your hips forward, you writhe against his touch as he begins to thrust into you.

“Shit, sweetheart. I’m not sure if you could take my knot.”

“I could,” you protest with a breathy sigh.

“Yeah? Brave little omega wants to take my knot?” You nod. “Convince me.”

He reaches down to the spot underneath your pussy, stroking the length of his cock slowly with one hand.

“Cream over my cock, make it nice and messy for me, then I’ll think about fucking you with it.”

He rests his palm over your abdomen, fingers curling down over your mound to circle your clit and you jerk violently in his arms.

The sweat glossing over your skin is clammy, though you’re hardly aware of anything except how close you are to the edge, your stomach swooping every time you think you’re about to peak.

“There we go, good girl, be a good girl for me.”

He presses a delicate kiss to the side of your neck and you cry out as your climax hits you. Whispering his name over and over, you succumb to the pleasure as it floods through your veins, down to your clenching pussy. His touches remain gentle as he coaxes your bliss into a simmering heat.

When he withdraws his finger you whine, especially when he gathers your slick together and begins to stroke himself using the mess you’ve made to glide his hand over the length of his cock.

“Billy,” you breathe out in a sigh as your eyes flutter closed.

“You okay?” he asks, his jaw tight with tension. Even while pleasuring himself, your comfort is the most important thing.

Rolling over, you drape your body against his, your breasts hanging near his face as you look down at him.

“Alpha, I want you.”

Taking his lower lip into your mouth, you give him a small nip with your teeth, and he growls.

Before you can even understand what’s happening, your back is pressed to the mattress with your hands pinned by your head with Billy’s cock slapping against your entrance as he grinds downwards.

As he pushes his cock inside you, everything else in your mind is removed. The only sensation you’re aware of is the sweet drag of friction as more of him enters your body. There’s so much.

“Breathe, sweetheart.”

A shuddering gasp wracks your body as you inhale raggedly. When Billy releases your hands, you reach up and grasp at your pillow, nails biting into the soft fabric.

With his hands now free, he squeezes both of your breasts, simultaneously groping them, pinching and rolling your nipples as you lie pinned down by his cock. It’s the perfect level of stimulation and it has your body barrelling towards another orgasm at an almost frightening speed. This has never happened before and you fear you won’t recover from this.

“Your heat makes you sensitive, doesn’t it?” he asks, breathing heavily as you nod. “Then it’s okay to cum again.”

“Billy I can’t-”

“Yeah you can. Just relax, omega.”

He groans as your second orgasm hits you, your pussy clenching weakly around his cock as your poor body attempts to adjust to the size of him.

Tears spill down your cheeks as his finger slides inside you, opening you up even further. He shushes you softly, a stark contrast to the wicked grin on his face as his finger presses against your tight walls, the digit almost suffocated by his cock.

“Easy, sweetheart, just gotta stretch you open for my knot.” The thought of taking his knot, feeling the stretch of it being pushed into you, has a glassiness filling your eyes. “You’ve already done such a good job, making it all slick and messy for me.”

“Billy…”

He hushes you.

“It’s alright. I know. I’m gonna take care of you.”

He slides another finger into you and uses them both to stretch you open even further. Gasping at the sensation, you throw your head back, bearing your neck for him.

He growls, lowering his face into the crook of your neck as he rocks his hips forward harshly. As his knot slides into you, your mouth drops open into a soundless cry.

He continues to rock his hips forward, the head of his cock nudging that sweet spot that has you clenching tightly with every thrust, all while his knot ensures that he remains snugly inside you.

Billy’s mouth descends on yours and the sound of fabric ripping is a distant memory as you sink your hands into his hair, urging him closer.

Both of you are panting frantically as you move against one another, chasing your pleasure. Billy growls and swears quietly, whilst you moan loudly and cry out his name.

His pubic bone grinds against your clit and you gasp into his mouth. He cups the back of your head as he bites down on your lower lip, grinning as you whine.

With his other hand he squeezes your breast before he trails his fingers down your side to grasp tightly onto your hip.

Electricity sparks down your spine, and you trace your hands down his chest, digging your nails into his shoulders as you cling to him, before you leave a trail of red lines over his skin.

He groans loudly and you clench at the sound of him so wrecked. His hair hangs down over his forehead, the perfect strands ruffled this way and that by your frantic hands.

His cheeks are flushed, his lips pink and kiss swollen as he breathes heavily. Dark brows furrowing, his mouth parts, then he grits his teeth in a near snarl.

“I’m close,” he rasps.

“Inside, alpha please.”

“Fuck.”

He presses his forehead against your collarbone, his breaths hot and heavy over your skin as he continues to swear quietly and you feel him shudder.

Nails digging into his hips, you urge him closer as he spills inside you, his hot spend filling you which sends you over the edge for the third time. Reeling from your high, you slump back onto the mattress and Billy lowers himself carefully over you, propping himself up with his elbows.

Without thinking, you smooth his hair back into place, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

He smiles at you, his chest still heaving slightly with each breath. It’s thrilling seeing him like this, so worked up by you.

He tilts his face towards your palm and you begin to play with his ear, absentmindedly running your fingertips over the soft cartilage there. His eyes flutter closed as you run your finger over the shell of his ear, before you rub affectionately over his jaw. The scratch of stubble there sends a tingle down your arm.

“Want me to stay inside for a little?” he asks quietly, his voice rasping slightly in his throat. You nod.

“Please.”

He presses a kiss to your hand as you continue your exploration of his face.

Hands still shaking from the adrenaline, you trace over his nose and smooth down each of his eyebrows. There’s no frown lines marring his features in this moment and you smile softly at the sight of him so relaxed.

Once he finally does pull out, the action is accompanied by a flurry of kisses over your cheeks which makes your smile widen despite the pinch of discomfort.

“Come on,” he says with a sigh as he begins to move out of bed.

He chuckles when you loop your arms around his waist, nuzzling your face against his lower back as you prevent him from leaving. He gives your forearms a small squeeze before he pulls away from your hold.

When you whine, he turns around and cups your face between his palms. Without warning, he manhandles you into his arms, carrying you towards the bathroom as you shriek in surprise.

He leaves you to do your business in the bathroom, reappearing with fresh towels while you’re washing your hands. His cheeks flush a little when you take it upon yourself to clean him up, wiping a damp flannel gently over his skin.

This isn’t the first time you’ve seen Billy shirtless. Usually after training sessions at Anvil he’ll end up tugging it off as he heads into his office, meaning you’ve caught a few glimpses of his bare chest or abs.

But now you have the opportunity to study every inch of him and you find yourself tracing your fingers lightly over the scar on his shoulder. It’s bigger than most of the others on his body.

Billy keeps his eyes low as he speaks quietly to you.

“At the group home, there was this guy who used to visit a lot. None of us kids had a proper alpha in our lives and we all flocked to him.”

The corner of his mouth lifts ever so slightly before a shadow passes over his features. He rolls his shoulder lightly and you feel the muscle shift beneath your fingers.

“I was a small kid with a pretty face. He thought I was an omega.”

“Billy,” you breathe out softly, placing a hand gently on his forearm. As an omega, you’re well aware of what happens when a bad alpha thinks they can take advantage of an omega.

“I didn’t submit to him, even managed to land a few good hits before he broke my arm.”

“Does it still hurt?”

When Billy meets your eyes a shiver rolls down your spine. He shakes his head.

“It’s a little sensitive every now and then.”

Standing on tiptoe, you press a soft kiss to his collarbone, the spot just beside his scar.

“Thank you for looking after me, Billy,” you whisper.

He cups the back of your head, keeping your eyes on his as he says,

“You don’t have to thank me for this.”

His thumb rubs a small circle over the sensitive spot under your ear, right where the mating gland is, and your eyes grow heavy as a deep sense of contentment settles into your body.

“Let’s get to bed, hm?” he suggests.

With a sleepy nod, you take Billy’s hand and allow him to lead you to bed where your combined scents allow you to sink into a blissful sleep with Billy’s arms curled around you protectively.

»»---------------------►

Blinking awake, you mentally prepare yourself to be soaked with sweat, your thighs damp with arousal and desperate for Billy to fill you up again. Stretching a little, you frown when you don’t feel any of that.

“Billy?”

“Hm,” he hums, words muffled by sleep as he shifts closer to you, burying his face into your neck. “Yeah ‘mega?”

“My heat’s gone.”

He lifts his head up, frowning.

“Gone?”

He lowers his nose down to the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply as he traces his way along your throat.

“You’re still in heat, sweetheart. I can smell it.”

“Well it doesn’t feel like it.”

“What do you-”

His voice breaks off suddenly and you feel him stiffen. A stab of hurt plunged into your chest as Billy untangles himself from around your body.

Then his hands trace over your neck, tilting your chin from side to side as he examines the skin there with a deep frown.

“I didn’t bite you, did I?”

Puzzlement evident in your eyes, you shake your head. When he doesn’t find a mark on your neck, he lowers his attention to your shoulders and collarbone. Once again, he doesn’t find anything.

Still feeling half asleep, and confused, you place your hand over Billy’s chest.

“Billy? What’s wrong?”

He breathes out shakily before he lifts his gaze to meet your eyes.

“I think we’re mates.”

That makes you pause.

“But you didn’t bite me…” A frown creases at your brows and you look over Billy’s neck and chest quickly before you add, “…and I didn’t bite you.”

He nods.

“I know.”

Soulmates are practically unheard of - an alpha and omega that don’t need a bonding mark to become a mated pair. But that’s the only reasonable conclusion for why the symptoms of your heat have vanished.

The bewilderment you feel is mirrored in Billy’s dark eyes and the two of you breathe out a small laugh as you lean into one another. Mouths meeting in a kiss, you thread your fingers through his hair and he tugs you closer as you both smile.

Billy is your mate and you are his.

»»---------------------►

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur @ilikefictionmen @budugu @watersquirtpewpewboomm @mysweetlittledesire @dhampiravidi

Billy Russo Tag List: @blackbirddaredevil23 @rafaelakelley @theysayitscrazy @nyx2021 @skybridgerton @dragon-of-winterfell @chickensarentcheap @stardustmorozov @witchcraftandwit @ladyofsoa

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny @two-unbeatable-beaters

[herzzgeist]

hi, could you write about law where his gf is just a clumsy mess. And she just hit her head on a open drawer, pretty hard. And know she is embaressed to go to him and ask for a ice pack. So she try to steal it unnoticed from his room. But of course she got caught.

And now she just try to played down, but it hurts like hell. He just care for her lil wound and something fluffy down the road. Maybe she remind him of cora. Ahhhh sorry for the spam

Pairing: Law x Clumsy fem!reader | Word count: 1.4k | Warnings: none

Synopsis: Oh look, another bruise. Didn't notice this one, silly me! Law can't stand the way you hold yourself - without care. Everytime he hears a faint 'Shit' or 'Ow' in the distance, he immediately considers it to be you, hurting yourself unintentioally again. What a drag. And yet another day, he finds you in attempt to smuggle something from the infirmary, observing you how you disfigure the drug storage. He actually has to speak up, until you finally realise you're not alone. "Law, it's nothing." - "Nothing can't turn red and blue and starts to swell like that (Y/n)-ya! Now hold still!"

A/N: Anon, I LOVE spam! The more details the better :3 - Here we have a fluffy OneShot! Thank you for your request, I must say I adore the clumsy reader trope ఌ (erm, since I walk on two left feet myself)

Dividers by cafekitsune ~

What a night, you think to yourself, as you stretch and writhe underneath your warm and comfy sheets. The cold hits you like you're being thrown into a pool of ice water, as you lift the shield of comfort, goosebumps prickling along your skin. Yawning in a still jaded state, you crumble off the mattress and of course hit your toe on the cabinet's leg. As you do every morning.

In pain you yowl a distressed little curse, hopping in place. It's straining you beyond belief, praying for some sort of miracle to rid you of those cursed two left feet. If not for the better, you should wear bubble wrapper clothes, this way you won't hurt yourself non stop at least. However, it is, dare say, not the most attractive fashion option.

In addition, you are practically obliged to see the doctor, who you happen to be in a relationship with, verily frequent. Naturally, whenever you arrive at the kitchen or common room within the Polar Tang, it is of your highest priority to avoid Trafalgar's death gaze, before he opts to drag you to the infirmary with those, as you may call them 'little' aches and pains you always put on yourself. Until now, they were ever so often not to be taken lightly and Law patched you up in no time. Shame fills you, embarassed that you're, simply explained, a klutz.

You enjoy it no less, the attention your aloof lover gives you and the petty and sarcastic comments he throws at you. Him being close to you. His warm hands cleaning any cuts and bruises and his voice stern yet reassuring calms you, no doubt. With that in mind, you can't help but notice your heart beating faster to the pictures replaying in your mind. Squeezing your eyes shut, you shake your head wildly, in hopes to quickly forget what's caught up in your day dreams about a certain white hatted man.

Today is your turn in kitchen duty and you decide to prepare breakfast earlier than usual, for you have something special in mind to serve this fine morning. Looking through the storage, no drawer or door is left unopened and you search for the needed ingredients.

As you lean down to seek out the lower cupboards, your skill to dodge the edge of an open drawer abandons you. Close to your temple, you feel how heat shoots up that area, making you dizzy. Fingertips trace along your head, where the imprint has been knocked into. Everything threatens to grow black before you.

„Oh, please no. Not again.", you murmur in desperation, legs beginning to weaken and nausea builds up from your core. That was quite the hit. Sitting down on the cold tile floor, you hide your face in your shaky palms. In panic, you come to the conclusion, that you must reach the infirmary, fast. All without getting caught by your overly attentive boyfriend, seems close to impossible to you. "Ice pack . .", is what you groan and you are set on your destination.

On wobbly legs, you close the door behind you and follow the corridor, down to the infirmary. Paranoia creeps over your spine, eyes scanning every dark and shallow corner. Before you enter the room, you peek over your shoulder to make sure you aren't followed: „Good, coast is clear.", the metal creaks and you step over the doorframe.

In all nervosity you begin to mumble and rummage through the drug storage: "Where is this god damn thing. I remember him putting it-" - "A little to the left, sweetheart." Jumpscared by the deep rumble behind you, you turn in a quick spin and stand in your Captain's shadow. With all your might, you gift him your most hearty and lovable smile, greeting him: "Law?! Why hello my love I-"

Instantly closing the locker doors behind your back, you giggle exaggeratedly, trying to play it cool, avoiding the icy steel glare, coming from the doctor. He orders: „Show me." Almost too quick you retort his command with an overacted pout of your lips, questioning his indication. Closer and closer the heavy steps come your way, stopping before you. Law reaches for your head and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, revealing the unmistaken bump.

An exasperated groan reverbs from his chest and he points at the examination table. "Now.", he commands and without a squeak, you obey. There you are again, seated on the cold metal plate. „Tell me what happend.", he utters, while washing his hands and putting on rubber gloves. There is no way you can escape his room anymore, unironically speaking.

Thus you twirl your thumbs in abashment, explaining: „I hit my head on a drawer in the kitchen about five minutes ago. I swear it's nothing, just a little bruis-" - „(Y/n)-ya, a little bruise doesn't turn red and blue and begins to swell at such an alarming rate. Now hold still." Ever so slowly, he approaches you, his grey orbs fixated on the injury. Inked and slender digits glide through your hair to get a better concept. Involuntarily, a hiss shoots through your teeth, as he palpates your scalp around the bump. Pins and needles trickling over your skin wherever he touches.

„Any dizziness, nausea or general weakness?" - „All three yes . . and think I was on the verge of passing out too.", by hearing your statement, which you formulate such a situation so nonchalanty is beyond Law's comprehesion. Oh how infuriated he is. Not hesitating once, he grabs the cleaning tools, anticeptics and cooling salves to get to work, patching you up again. It's become an everyday life chore for your dear Captain. Though he detests how imprudent and careless you are, he cannot deny how utterly adorable you appear at times, puppy eyes attempting to white wash every scratch on your body, not wanting to disturb him by all means. It is something he learned to love about you.

Yet somehow you remind him of someone. Somebody he used to care about alot when he was just a boy. Could it be? Why of course, Corazon. Well, at least you didn't burst into flames, like he did. Fortunately, you're not prone to smoke, to Law's approval. However, all the other stunts you deliver, are rather similar to Rosinante's, one could think you are related to one another. A smile tugs on the Captain's lips, as he finishes the treatment.

„What are you so happy about, darling?", you hum sweetly, earning a disgruntled click of his tongue, telling you it's nothing. You show your gratitude with a kiss to his cheek. It managed to elict a skip of his heart and he furrows his brows subsequently, hiding the red tint on his face under the brim of his hat.

Seeing him tidy up the infirmary, you make it your task to help him clean up after that little ‚operation'. „You should get some rest. Drink lots of water and take pain killers if needed. And for the love of god, please tell me, if any symptomps get worse, understood?", he growls through a tensed up jaw. You playfully nudge his side and chuckle softly: „I think I learned my lesson today. I'm grateful. Really appreciate your kindness and patience with me."

Kindness? Who on earth would call a powerhouse, a man as known as ‚the Surgeon of Death', kind? Only shaking his head and scoffing to your heartstring pulling remark, he huffs: „You're a curious one, (Y/n)" Side by side, you stand next to eachother, cleaning up the tool station. Through the corner of your eye, you notice his fleeting gaze upon you. Hence you return it, facing him with a querying expression.

An unexpected pinch on your cheek takes you aback, a small ‚Ouch' escaping you: „Oi, what was that for?" Law's thumb and index finger linger on the round of your face, not moving away, muttering lowly: „This is for being a fool, the clumsy mess that you are" removing his fingers from you, he gently places his palm back on the spot where he pinched you a moment ago „and this is for your troubles, my clumsy mess that you are."

Slowly he leans down to your level and lets his lips enlighten yours with the love he harbors for you, his blundering woman.

And as if nothing happend, the throbbing pain in your head disperses into thin air.